The commotion of his comrades being attacked made the stocky man—who Rayadell figured could very well be a dwarf beneath his rocky armor—scowl and mutter a string of curses.
	She heard the rustle of other archers rushing to the aid of their fellows, and the corner of her lips twitched upward.
	The man gave a loud, guttural roar and rushed at her, murderous anger shining in his eyes. Now, it was personal.
	Not having to worry about avoiding arrows as well as axes, Rayadell easily blocked his blows in a single, swift movement. The strength of each hit as her staff met the axes’ handles just below the blades reverberated through the staff, but her weapon held faithfully firm. She put all her weight into the staff to thrust him backward, ordering the flames to burst from the blades.
	The man stumbled back, the fire licking at his unique armor and threatening to sear the skin visible beneath his rocky helmet. 
	As he moved, she caught a glimpse of a crack in his armor. A small, easily overlooked slit between a couple of the rocks creating the otherwise overlapping pattern, it was just what she needed.
	An arrow [i]thunked[/i] into his helmet, making his head jerk to the side as he stumbled a couple more paces. An arrow Rayadell recognized from Calanon's quiver.
	She spun her staff to point one of the blades at him, then lunged at the stunned man, aiming for the slit.
	Slower than before, he tried to raise one of his axes, but the fiery blade slid through his armor and into the man’s gut with the squealing rasp of metal on rock. The man gave a shocked, gurgled cry, and his body went rigid for a moment, pain and disbelief flashing over his eyes.
	The white flames died away and Rayadell yanked the blade from him. She jumped back as he collapsed to his knees, dropping his axes, then fell face-first into the path.
	Her attention snapped to the tree line when movement met her peripherals, but it was only Calanon. She looked back to the dead man and snorted. “Never cared much for the Promixtra.”
	She placed one blade against the ground, the other coated in red at the tip. She summoned a short burst of flame once more to the blade, and it quickly burned away the crimson as Calanon approached. 
	She shrugged in response to his apology. “You did what you set out to do.” She turned to him, and raised her brows at the archer he dragged behind him. “Do I want to know?” she nodded to the archer as she pulled the blade from the ground. With a thought and gentle magical push, the thin, deadly blades retracted back into the staff.