Tavor N'eveth had fought very few battles in his life, none as great as the one yet to come. Mustering his courage, the crocodile stepped through the portal, and appeared on the other side, where the loud clinking of metal armour greeted him. He stared at the approaching army before him. These were forces greater than an he had seen before in his life. These numbers were great, not hundreds or thousands, but tens of thousands, even.
He glanced behind him into the vast sea, and even he couldn't help but admire how a whole world, hidden as such, so close to the battle yet so peaceful, with such power that could destroy the whole continent, that could change life as known. The crocodile turned back to the armies and drew his khopesh, and studied his companions. His eyes landed on a creature like him; a reptile standing on two legs, a few inches shorter than he. N'eveth swiftly followed the reptile, but right before he reached him, something large slammed into the gates, causing anarchy among the ranks; a battering ram. The crocodile stopped in his steps, standing high and mighty, and bellowed, "STAND YOUR GROUND ! PREPARE FOR BATTLE !", and the men listened, not bothering to look for the source. The battering ram slammed into the gates once more, and as the enemy realized this wasn't going to work, they seemed to have placed some sort of bomb, for the gates exploded, but the men had formed a shield wall, and the orcs charged from the opening in the wall.
The onslaught of attacking orcs seemed to have taken many by surprise, and Tavor knew that this wasn't going to work. He raised his staff into the air, and bellowed a spell in ancient tongues, causing a great tendril of seawater to rise from behind him and slammed into the army of orcs, but of course, this only killed a couple hundreds, if not less. As the ranks of men were breached by the assault, he ran forth, swinging his blade before him, blocking or slaying enemies.
He now stood before the incoming armies and pointed his staff forward, and a black mist emanated from the dark mark at the crooked tip, spreading forward, curling at the legs of the enemy, gripping them ever tighter, causing whatever it touches to rot and decay. But as the crocodile turned, the mist slowly dispersed, but a good deal of dead bodies lay at the gates, yet more orcs and undead came, over the dead bodies of their peers. He did all he could have done.
Tavor turned and slashed his sword, stabbing an orc in the back, then running into the ranks of men, once again hacking almost mindlessly before him, before swiftly turning. His body extended, growing a tail, his staff, sword, and shendyt melting into scales, then the twelve foot long crocodile, the sarcosuchus, grabbed a large orc in his jaws and started shaking him wildly, throwing him aside to die from his wounds, and charging once again at the enemy alongside the reptile with the stone weapons.