<div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">EDIT: Reposting, since I've pretty much rewritten everything but the first two paragraphs since Sunday.  <img alt="&gt;.&gt;" src="./images/smilies/shifty.gif" title="Shifty eyes"/> The actions are the same crunch-wise, just a lot of different fluff. Anyways, re-read if you care to!<br/><br/>- Allie (who <span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">really</span></span> needs to be tested for OCD  <img alt=":P" src="./images/smilies/icon_razz.gif" title="Razz"/> )</div></div></div><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">This was not a good plan,</span>Alyssa thought to herself.<br/><br/>Of course, it didn't occur to her until she was halfway across the open street, clear of cover with a mad naga's bow sight on her heels. That was the trouble with having second thoughts: they were never the<span style="font-style: italic">first</span>thoughts, and by the time they did arrive their usefulness tended to be greatly diminished, like the perfect test answers that always came to mind the day after grading was done. There was probably some special homunculus of the limbic brain responsible for that sort of plodding insight, but Alyssa couldn't recall its name at the moment. She made a note to check on it later, when she wasn't being shot at.<br/><br/>Nevertheless, the second thoughts were right, as usual. There were too many variables she hadn't taken into account before she'd leapt to action. Leena's presence was one of them. The werekin would be a serious hindrance to Kaelen, assuming it was in fact his silhouette she'd seen - another uncertainty. Moreover, she had no guarantee that Kaelen would be able to handle Zeb by himself, even if he could get through Leena's blockade.<br/><br/>Most importantly, though, she'd failed to consider how hard it was to dodge a sniper with her back turned.<br/><br/>Hearing Zeb's bowstring twang behind her, Alyssa pushes herself into a faster sprint, avoiding the shot by mere inches; far too close for comfort. Logic and instinct pull her tactical sense in opposite directions; one urging her to keep pace and eyes ahead; the other, to slow down and guard her flank. Splitting the difference, she hazards a quick glance over her shoulder to confirm Zeb's position, then resumes her sprint at full speed, unwilling to risk further delay or misstep this close to her destination. She has more than her own safety to worry about...<br/><br/>"Dagnyr," Alyssa calls out as she falls into position next to the paladin. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner. Are you and Miss Rynn -<span style="font-style: italic">nnh</span>!" Her query concludes with a sharp gasp as Zeb's second arrow materializes in her shoulder, burying itself bone deep with a staggering impact. Recomposing herself quickly, she raises her bow to the skyline and takes aim at the naga, ready to give him a taste of his own medicine...<br/><br/><div style="padding: 3px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 1px solid #d8d8d8; font-size: 1em;"><div style="text-transform: uppercase; border-bottom: 1px solid #CCCCCC; margin-bottom: 3px; font-size: 0.8em; font-weight: bold; display: block;"><span onclick="if (this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display != '') {  this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = ''; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;hide&lt;/a&gt;'; } else { this.parentNode.parentNode.getElementsByTagName('div')[1].getElementsByTagName('div')[0].style.display = 'none'; this.innerHTML = '&lt;b&gt;Spoiler: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=\'#\' onClick=\'return false;\'&gt;show&lt;/a&gt;'; }"><b>Spoiler: </b><a href="#" onclick="return false;">show</a></span></div><div class="quotecontent"><div style="display: none;">Shortbow (Zeb): 1d20 (1) + 15 = 16, critical miss  <img alt=":oops:" src="./images/smilies/icon_redface.gif" title="Embarassed"/></div></div></div><br/>At least, that was the plan in her head. Unfortunately, her shoulder wasn't consulted in the decision, a mistake the damaged muscles are quick to punish by stitching up as she she prepares to loose her first arrow. The sudden insult ruins her concentration, and her aim, sending what might have been a promising shot sailing high and off course. Wincing in embarrassment, Alyssa lowers her bow and turns back to Dagnyr, fully aware of how the entire scene must have looked to her more professional companion.<br/><br/>"Sorry again, Constable," she says, reddening slightly. "I came to cover you like I promised, but I seem to be having some difficulties." A sheepish smile momentarily lightens her expression, vanishing back under a shadow of consternation as the flicker of movement atop the boathouse draws her attention back to more important matters.<br/><br/>"Constable Locasta is in trouble as well," she adds quickly. "He's on the roof with the bandits, outnumbered two to one. If we don't reach him soon..." She trails off, leaving Dagnyr and Larynn to fill in the details with their own imaginations. It doesn't take an adjutant's training to guess how a fight against two experienced predators will end for the lone watchman...