Every jink, every juke and every attempt to dodge by Morag was met by a searing blast of pain as another arrow found its mark. The mercenary leader was starting to resemble a pincushion by now as he stumbled forward, another arrow embedding itself in his thigh, a spurt of blood rushing forth. As he drew back the last shot, the raven and cardinal feathers pressing against his cheek, the archer reconsidered. With heavy, laboured breaths, Morag struggled to even stay standing, collapsing to all fours. His inner demon cackled with joy and a hidden smile appeared under his hair. With his hand still on the bowstring, Archibald slowly stepped closer until he was a single step away from Morag, who tried to lift his heavy morningstar. With an uncharacteristically brutal kick, the bandit leader slammed his bootsole into the mercenary's face, breaking the nose with a loud snap and forcing him onto his back where he struggled weakly to get up. 

Pressing his weight down onto his chest, Archibald leaned closer to the pox ridden wretch. "Normally I am not one to kill," he said indifferently as he started to grind his heel into Morag's chest, "but one does not make one of my lads suffer without undergoing similar treatment..." As he leaned further down, his hair finally parted, drifting towards the floor and revealing a ghastly image. A red sclera-ed, bloodshot eye pulsed from above a grisly mess of a face. Where one would expect rosy cheeks were instead replaced with a tangled wreckage of skin and muscle, dominated by the sheer whiteness of bone which seemed to grin menacingly. "If you catch my meaning," Archibald hissed as he ground further down with his heel, eliciting another wince of pain as a rib snapped.

"Boss..." came the whiny, nasal voice of Aiph from behind him. Archibald didn't even so much as look around to him. His underling knew what was happening, but was unsure of how to proceed as he reajusted the weight of the heavy sacks he was carrying. It was then that Darius rounded the corner and grabbed Archibald by his arm. "Archie, remember you oath and your own rules. Do not break conditions of your own covenant," he said with a tug. Shaking him off, Archibald removed the red and black fletched arrow from his bow and placed it on Morag's neck. "You know what this pox ridden wretch did to our comrade," Archibald replied as he applied slight pressure, releasing a pinprick of blood from the almost comatose Morag, "I'm just returning the favour."
"Then will that not make you one of them?" Darius replied, "One who will torture for their own satisfaction?"
"Do not presume that you know all of me Darius..." Archibald replied as he twisted the shaft of the arrow, widening the hole to a steady trickle, "that rule does not apply to scum like this."
"It applies to any living creature, Archie," Darius said firmly as he grabbed Archibald's arm again, "you made the rule yourself. What will your men think if I tell them what you are going to do?"
Archibald looked up as he stared Darius down. Wordlessly, he flicked his hair over to one side and did a final stomp on morag's chest before walking away. "Darius, Aiph. We leave." he said with no chance of argument.