[i]"Suggestions, lad?”[/i]

The familiar world-weary voice, scored by innumerable journeys past came like the tide of frigid air that accompanied the freely flowing, now freezing water of which blossomed upward and formed an icy shell. Not that the huntsman paid it any unneeded mind for the moment while he remained within cover, out of sight; the old man had done something, but at this point it was par for the course. He seemed to have a number of tricks, ones that had certainly seen him through the long years worn into his appearance and salt stained robes.

"If your hands can still manage a bow and its arrows," Brannor started with a loud bellow, the knocked arrow lurching back as the sizable human frame revealed itself on to the ramparts again with weapon at ready and tracking the draconic threat, "... pray then to your patron that they guide your shots."

The immediate implications were a bit grim, suggesting the old druid relieve one of the fallen of their weapon, but more loosed bolts were superior than fewer and the dead would likely want their revenge were it possible, even more so as it seemed the town had not kept up with their defenses; many brave men and women paid dearly for that fact now.

As fate would have it all the same, guided by the mystic lights that fluttered about the dragon's great frame, tracing over its wings, about its neck and its skeletal cobalt features, the arrow launched free of Brannor's worn longbow came with an accurate, deadly whistle into the chaos.

[hider=Rolls]
Rolled a [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/1744]24[/url] and an [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/1745]18[/url] from advantage for a longbow attack against the dragon. [i]Bless[/i] was internally added to the results as a function test.
Rolled a [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/1746]4[/url] for piercing damage.
[/hider]
Undoubtedly the shaft fired free of its string was to sink itself into a more exposed part of the scaly beast, placed with an accuracy granted by blessings from on high. It was after the shot that Brannor's hand fought with his tattered cloak for a moment as it fluttered about from the beat of the dragon's wings pushing it further from the keep, but he prepared another arrow from his quiver out of repetition, muscle acting in place of thought.

Back into cover he returned; having the dragon answer his shot was not a retort he wished to experience. That was simply a matter of no-contest.

[@Hekazu][@Ryonara][@Lucius Cypher][@Gordian Nought][@Norschtalen]