[center][color=00ff66][h1][b]J'eon the Blacksmith[/b][/h1][/color][/center] [hr] An arrow burst into flame midair as the blacksmoth glanced up at it. “What’s this? What’s this?” he bellows, glancing towards the archers as another fireball began forming over his palm. “How do you like mine?” The fireball darted towards the assassins, the tops of weeds suddenly bursting alight in its wake. [hr] [center][color=00ff66][h1][b]Jack Mallory[/b][/h1][/color][/center] [hr] The creatures were reeling from the counter-attacks, probably not expecting the fight they got. Mallory fired two shots at a mimic who turned towards him and the Glen he rode, darting past without seeing what happened. “We need to make a safe passage for the others!” Mallory yelled in the Glen’s ear, narrowly avoiding their antlers.