[center][h3]Hugh, Jakobe, Nick, and Marcus V Archers[/h3][/center]

Hugh, totally recovered from his near-embarassing flounder when assailed by Taene's stirred wind, sensed victory in the air when the sky darkened.  Another airborne reptile, not just a dragon but a wyvern and its rider, swooped in to finish the fight.  Making a mental note to thank Kel later, Hugh left the area, signaling for Nick, Jakobe, and Marcus to join him.  "Looks like our smoky friend is going to deal that changeling the final blow.  Our next act is to engage the archers and flush them out into the blades of Jeane and Gaius.  Are we all good?  Any wounds for the good healer?"

"No wounds to report as of this moment." Marcus said standing up from where he'd finished healing Nickoloas. "However the injury the dark mage sustained was quite grave. The magic I have worked over it is only a temporary patch. He has perhaps fiftenn minutes before he'll collapse with pain." Marcus glanced down at the strange smelling man. "He's not suffered any permanent damage but his leg will require a number of days and treatements before it is made whole."

"I don't think it'll be so much from pain as it will be from the fact that my leg won't work anymore." Nickolas managed to get out a weak chuckle. He'd lived in Augur all his life before the journey down south to join the Reclaimers. He'd seen what overexposure to the cold could do on a first-hand basis.

The overpowering scent of a forest inferno had died down as the dark mage closed his fire-based tome with a [i]snap[/i]. Smoke rose from the edges of the book, and it looked a lot more... singed than before. He stood up, dusting himself off and pulling out his Flux tome.  "I'll be fine. I'm ready to move on the archers when you are, Sir Hugh."

Shaking his head to clear the battle haze, Jakobe felt a twinge of pain in his arm. "Damn dragon got me in the arm, it looks like. Little more than a flesh wound, thankfully. I'd not waste the healing on it unless it gets worse, so don't worry." Taking a deep breath, he looked between his fellow Reclaimers, hoping that Kel would be able to defeat his new opponent. "Anyway, I'm good to go. Shall we?"

"Indeed.  Time for the archers' curtain call."  Hugh led the party away from the scene where two dragons now faced off in the sky.  Mindful of Nick's condition, he knew that time was of the absolute essence.  According to Kel's recon, there weren't that many archers, but to his knowledge three arrows could spell the end for an unarmored soldier.  When he rounded the corner of the town's general store and found the cluster of archers blocking the street, a volley of arrows almost immediately shot his way, but mercifully met the ground or wood rather than cloth or flesh.  "Hmm..." he murmured to his allies, safe for the moment behind cover.  "Let's rush them in a two-by-two formation.  Me and Jakobe in front.  Ranged support and healing behind.  As long as we move forward faster than they move back, we'll flush 'em no problem.  Just hope the others are waiting in the wings.  Now!"

The team fully rounded the corner and began to advance.

As they turned the corner, Jakobe replaced the halberd on his back, drawing his longsword and gripping it with both hands. Prodding Thunderclap to gallop forward, he relied on speed to avoid being harmed by the volley of arrows. On their own, a few archers likely wouldn't be able to hit a charging cavalier, at least not until he got in close. While a bow wasn't the best weapon in close quarters, the extremely large target that a mounted soldier's horse provided required little in the realm of aiming to hit. As such, Jakobe made sure to start circling around to hit the archers in the back during his approach, intending to sandwich them between himself and the others.

Nickolas peeled open his Flux tome as he jogged to keep up, ducking behind the charging form of the cavalier as an arrow whistled past his head. He began to recite the words of power as another arrow buried itself next to his foot, warning the dark mage of his limited time.

Though arrows whizzed dangerously by, bounced off armor, were toasted by flux, or simply hit their targets, the squad advanced.  Any hits were quickly addressed by Marcus, who managed to keep himself from becoming a major target in the process.  Sensing danger, the archers were already beginning to retreat by the time the knight, the cavalier, and the mage crashed into their ranks.  Unable to contend at melee range, the bowmen took to their heels and fled, though they hadn't far to run as the trap snapped shut.