The enemy was as seemingly foolish as they were zealous, as it was made clear several times over they had hacked down the best of the regulars they had in mere moments; their own champions were the few things that had even posed them, let alone a town, a threat at all. Whatever promises of greatness and glory they had been sewn with, the knight-ranger was determined to reap from them. So with the beating of the horses' hooves and their shouts, the presence of the riders of the clustered together, they made for a relatively easy shot; spurring the man to draw an arrow from his quiver. The tension on his longbow stringing out in response, this was all true except for the fact that the rest of the escaping entourage had been lagging behind for any number of reasons; blaming any one or any individual was moot.

There was no time to adjust the shot, a blind arrow that missed friends was better than a sure arrow that hit any one of them as there was no telling where they would go to avoid their pursuers. Thus the warrior committed and the shaft loosed, darting through the night, whipping past the monk and bear, down the corridor that was between them and the other archer of Greenest. Unfortunately, it too sailed well wide off from the two east-most riders, who had slowed to either maneuver or dismount into battle. But the wildblooded paladin was not through with them yet, taking off to press the moment forward, back past his compatriots and where he could meet the enemy; perhaps dissuade them further, this time in close with steel.

Unsheathing the blade, he bounded through the tall grass, cloak turned now to the forest and allowing the bear to pass by. There was no time to flee anymore, just fight, and to be perfectly honest with himself, the tiger in him wanted a fight. Brannor could not be sure if this was the beast he was - the true him beneath the flesh - or the holy compass in spirit, the pull to at last strike back against his enemy rather than skulk away, or even the melding of them both as one pure, divine, wild thing. Either way, be it animalistic anger or sanctified vengeance, these men came here full aware they were likely to die, still stained with all of the evil things they had done.

Why not see them to those ends?

So the sword was loosed from its scabbard and the bow was cast from hand, Brannor rising in voice, hoping the scene at hand now made the issue clear despite his comment some minutes before, "[i]Now[/i] is that time to fight."

[hider=Effects]
Brannor fires an arrow, which is a near assured miss on a [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/11628]4[/url]. He then moves 30ft, his maximum movement, to the south-east-most corner of the bear form Torus and drops his bow. He then prepares his greatsword and will use his opportunity attack on the first humanoid enemy to provoke one, regardless if they remain a rider or decide to dismount, attempting to keep them away from Leosin the monk. Unless noted otherwise, he will not target the horse over the rider.
[/hider]
[@Hekazu][@Gordian Nought][@Ryonara][@Lucius Cypher][@Norschtalen]