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Even more annoyed now that he was forced to take his attention off the idiot prince, Jorah scanned the fringes of the battlefield from his prone position, eyes burning as he searched for that last bastard archer. Goddess above, he wasn’t a violent person—disregard the arrows—but he wanted nothing more than to ring Kayden’s stupid neck for his recklessness. He obviously knew the appeal of risky behaviour, but Jorah’s stunts only ever put his [i]own[/i] life at risk, not other people’s! [i]Especially[/i] not healers from another House forced to walk into danger to save his sorry ass! 

His anger threatened his concentration; he knew well enough that Clarissa could handle herself, but he also knew she was altruistic to a fault, and while he’d never admit it, he worried about her. That must be the difference between lordlings like himself and royalty: apparently Kayden had enough fawning servants at home willing to lay down their lives for his petty whims that he didn’t give jumping into danger a second thought.

Fucking Imperials. 

In an instant, though, Jorah’s anger melted away; only a cool, empty calm was left behind, like the still air of a cathedral after the worshipers had left. At first, he thought it must have been magic, but his theory was proven wrong when Kaira came into view on his periphery, laying a hand on his shoulder. He felt her magic then, soothing the sting in his cheek, but her calming aura definitely came from his Crest; he remembered a similar feeling when he met her in the infirmary, mistaking it for a calming enchantment placed on the room. 

[color=palegreen]"If Euphemia was here, she'd say you're doing well,"[/color] She offered him some encouragement. [color=palegreen]"I'm going to draw the archer's attention, when you see them shoot for me, make sure to shoot them back, okay?"[/color]

It was passing strange indeed—Jorah couldn’t recall meeting anyone with such a neutral aura before, not even his sister—but Kaira had a point; there were more pressing matters to think about. Thus calmed by her presence, the apprehension his brain told him he should feel at the concept of using a woman as archer bait never came; instead, he trained his eyes on the battlefield with newfound focus, an arrow nocked and ready for the inevitable shot. 

But even with bait, sniffing out this archer was no easy task. Smoke still stung his watering eyes, fires grew larger as they consumed thatched roofs, and the constant movement of bandits and civilians alike distracted the eye every which way. The burst of healing magic that sprang forth from Kaira was energizing, though, and soothed soreness Jorah hadn’t even noticed he had, making the search a little more tolerable. And apparently, that was the boost he needed: Not seconds later, an arrow came whistling toward Kaira, its heading a dead giveaway to the last archer’s hiding spot. This one was sneaky; apparently they’d been on the opposite slope of an as-yet unburnt roof the whole time, hiding behind a chimney. At long last, Jorah was able to loose an arrow, and another for good measure, sending the archer’s body tumbling off the roof. 

[color=FFAB66]“Okay, finally cle—!”[/color] Jorah cut himself off as another projectile came screaming toward the group, revealing itself to be none other than Professor Euphemia. He might have wondered what could possibly have sent her flying so quickly, but as soon as his eyes left the Kalonics, they were met with a new adversary that seemed eager to draw the eye: an absolute beast of a man, swinging an axe like a giant at the ants that were his classmates. 

[color=FFAB66]“Saint’s taint, what is [i]that?[/i]”[/color] Jorah exclaimed, watching in muted fascination as one of the Lions and one of his own were flicked aside like ragdolls. Shit, was that the Ordelia chick? She didn’t look dead, but she didn’t look great either; hopefully Clarissa could heal from a distance, cause he wasn’t fond of the idea of her entering that monster’s sphere of influence to help. 

When he could finally tear his eyes from the nightmarish sight before him, he noticed the figures [i]behind[/i] the beast, a small group of mages who looked to be reciting an enchantment. They were far from him, but that cart full of barrels didn’t look like it was up to any good, doubly so if they were casting some kind of spell on it. Auberon seemed to want to draw the giant’s attention, and Jorah watched in interest as Kellen—that was his name!—and Imogen tried to dart around it, apparently headed for the mages. 

So what now? Jorah might have thought to shoot for the mages; they were the farthest foes on the battlefield by a fair distance, and with the line having moved forward, they were far enough away that he wasn’t confident he could land any good hits. He might have shot for them anyway—an arrow landing near them might at least startle them out of concentration—but the two friendlies closing the gap were too close for comfort—if he shot, he risked catching one of them in the back. So did he shoot at the big guy from up here? He wasn’t sure if that would even do much; that thing looked like it ate arrows for breakfast. 

Strategy was not his strong suit, and it hurt his head just to get this far, but he had to do something—and then it came to him. Strategy [i]wasn’t[/i] his strong suit, but attention grabbing? Why, he might as well have made his living off that. 

Acting on his decision before Kaira’s rational influence could make him think otherwise, Jorah leapt off the carriage, landing acrobatically and running to the front to take up a spot by Auberon’s side. 

[color=FFAB66]“Sounds like you’re starting a tavern brawl; I’m insulted that nobody invited me,”[/color] he quipped to the Lion leader when he arrived, planting his feet and pulling two arrows from his dwindling quiver. Nocking them both at once, he tilted his bow on an angle and took aim at the giant. 

[color=FFAB66]“How about a taste of this?”[/color] he shouted, contining the theme of Auberon’s taunting as he loosed both arrows at once in the giant’s direction. It was more of a flashy party trick than an archery technique of any use, but at this range they’d at least land [i]somewhere[/i] on his enormous target. Besides, two arrows flying in his direction at once would at least have to make it take notice, and that was all Jorah was really after. 

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