With a gout of flame being launched into his face at an arms width, Varick didn't even attempt to dodge. Instead he tucked his chin to his breast, turning his face to the side so his helm would take most of the flames. The temperature was maddening but at least the flames couldn't sneak through the eye slits in Varicks helmet. Then the Orc systematically dropped the sword and attempted to take stock of what he could do, a vast array of thoughts vying to get to the forefront of his mind in the crystalline moment created by adrenaline.
Being a purely physical attacker, Varick was unsure that he could do anything to the embodiment of flame in front of him. Certainly tackling it would do nothing. On the other hand, it seemed to be some sort of magical construct and if it had magic flowing through it, then the Aegis may be able to do something. So Varick threw a savage bash with his bejewelled shield before backstepping to gain some measure of distance. Varick then noted Nevilles' spell, the target area enveloping him and a vicious snowstorm enveloping the area around him. The Orcish Warrior raised the Gemstone Aegis, taking shelter beneath it from the magical storm as best he could, confident his armour would hold off what the Aegis did not.