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[sub]Late Noon///Floor 3[/sub]
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A jet of mud swamped Oben completely, but all Varanense thought about was how lucky they were that the lizard wasn't a fire-breather. Someone else could get the masked swordsman out; he'd have to continue the onslaught instead. Both eyes were down. His breathing was still under control. Setting the crossbow against the ground, the tanned archer slotted in the next bolt and pulled the string upwards with the entire strength of his body. There was a click, and he kicked up his oversized weapon once more, weaving behind the pillars to get the angle on another vital target.

The monster wasn't moving now. The next will be its sense of smell. Positioning himself in front of the beast, Varanense let out another sharp breath. [b]"Firing!"[/b] he called, praying that the others would have the sense to stay still while a projectile shot from behind them.

And then, of course, he [i]did[/i] fire. With a powerful whump, the arrow flew for right nostril, and already, he was reloading. It wasn't normal for him to try so hard, but then again, Dahlia was looking rather spartan and might actually allow them to get a couple of broken bones and ruptured organs before stepping in.