The Rangers' arrows sailed in from their firing line. Kaird dove to the side, pushing his back into a pile of rubble. Why had Akrelmar had to...well, be himself? That detestable excuse for a human being had proven to be nothing more than a hindrance masquerading as the most experienced sellsword this side of the White Woods. 

"McGrath!" hollered one of his comrades. "For the love of the divines, start fir-" The man's words were cut off by the meaty [i]thunk[/i] of an arrow slamming into his shoulder. He fell to the ground, wriggling and moaning. Harmed, and probably on his way out, but definitely alive. That was strange. Rangers didn't usually leave survivors. Unless, of course, it suited them. 

"Stand your ground!" Kaird hollered. "Stand! They mean to scatter us and pick us off one by one!" He withdrew one of his wickedly-pointed arrows and slid it into place on his bow, aiming for the line of rangers. He didn't need to look over to see Akrelmar's furious gaze. He could feel it burning a hole in the side of his face. 

However, a quick glance showed his fellow mercs had, in some capacity, followed his order. A select few had followed his example, taking rudimentary cover behind cobblestone slides and readying for a fight. Most of them hadn't, and were focused on dodging arrows and trying to get a bead on the rangers. 

Kaird fired at the left-most Ranger, slid down the pile of stones, withdrew another arrow, and waited. Rangers, bandits, Akrelmar...he had no intention of letting anyone get in the way of his true purpose here.