The magical arrow from nowhere took the lone cultist by surprise, death claiming them before they had even realised what had happened. The corpse that now lay on the ground emitted a shimmering glow, the magic still ready to complete its task despite the obvious redundancy of it. This left only one of them standing, though as Kyra looked around she managed to catch a glimpse of worrying news. While the tent was largely filled with objects of everyday living suitable for the race of kobolds, it was what she picked up from outside of the tent flaps that was the problem. More were coming. Though that had been obvious from the start.

The remaining cultist did not follow in the footprints of those the heroes had often seen. Despite the overwhelming opposition, despite the fact his friends, or at least allies, were falling all around him, he raised his weapon and screamed his battle cry into the nighttime air, to join the smells of battle and death as an auditory companion. "FOR TIAMAT'S GLORY!" the Cultist screamed, bringing the weapon down on the one opponent within his reach.

The fervent strike driven by the man's beliefs found purchase on the hooded man's arm, the weapon managing to find a spot where armour gave way to a softer joint. While only a minimal amount of blood was drawn, if that, the strike had harmed the last night's champion. The Cultist knew he was staring death into the eye. But he had chosen to not die with his back turned to the enemy.

[hider=Mechanics&Rolls]
Kyra slays the Cultist. One more remains.

Speaking of whom, said individual uses their turn to make a defiant strike against Brannor, the attack roll settling on the same total of [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/11564]20[/url] as their now late companion's. The damage dealt would be [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/11565]4[/url] prior to any potential resistances.

It is Brannor's turn to retaliate [@The Harbinger of Ferocity].
[/hider]