The Archivist sped past with swordsman-like grace, his sword cleaving a vicious arc to scrape the armour of his foe’s lower body. Strangely, though she seemed to flinch back from the blow the real damage of the attack was not noticeable. Simultaneously however, he heard a grunt and the dying rattle of the Archer to his left, blood spurting from his body as if he were instead struck by the spider’s attack.

“Interesting.” The Archivist muttered, instead turning immediately to face his foe roughly five feet away, he waited by the boulder. Quickly, he summarised the link between the lack of damage he inflicted on his target, and the unexpected death of the minion. They were connected, he should have guessed, the information would be important in the ensuing battle of that he had no doubt.

His lower hands came together, rolling and spinning together as a strange substance began to form between them. His sword was held in a ready stance, as was his shield, he strafed slowly rightward, circling his foe, moving away from the obstructing boulder so his back was once again towards the road.