"Warren get that one!"  By the time Terryn had commanded the order the Black Shield had drew his blade and sped towards the group of archers.  The first Cherwin archer saw the charging man and dropped his bow to withdraw a short steel blade.  Warren was running to fast for the archer and slammed the rim of his black heater shield, courtesy of the Black Shields of course, into the man's chest, ploughing right through him.

By then one of the archers diverted his attention to the clash, strung a bow and loosed it.  Ducking, Warren managed to deflect the arrow with his shield, giving a loud 'thunk' off of the metal before rising and continuing his charge.  Before he could make a move on this man, however, the third archer came to the rescue with his shortsword, prompting Warren to turn his sword int hat direction and knock away a fatal jab.

He bashed at the archer who was trying to draw his own sword, sending him stumbling backwards and turned to face the third archer, knocking away another blow and sending sparks flying, but that's when 'it' kicked it.

A large burp of blood erupted from his throat, like magma from a volcano, emptying itself through his mouth, into his closed helmet, and falling through onto his armor.  The archer looked stunned at first, as if some divine miracle had killed his opponent, but Warren instinctively reached up and quickly removed the helmet.  The archer moved forward for another attack but Warren spewed a host of bloody droplets into his face, effectively blinding and stunning him for a moment and slammed the rim of his black shield into the man's mouth.  The nearly-unconscious archer gave out a yelp, fell back, spit out some blood and broken teeth, and stayed down; he was out of the fight.

Metal upon metal, sparks in the air, the sound of battle, it erupted from the hall and Warren dueled the remaining archer while the others dealt with the footmen.