#but Dariax better bloody be okay!

[terrible-as-pie]

I am obviously handling this well

[saphirered]

Orym and a arcane Archer reader, maybe the group is in some fight and everything is looking bad for them but them out of nowhere all the bad guys are getting sniped left and right! After everything cools down this beautiful/handsome Archer steps out of the shadows and is checking up to see if their all okay while orym is just quietly freaking out cause WOW THAT WAS COOL AND HOT lol. Sorry that this is long I really like orym!

Here you go. Enjoy! 😘

They knew Poska’s folks would catch up to them at some point and maybe they should have prepared for that while they had the time. However, they got caught up in the mix of life and forgot about the entire fact they were on the run. The good thing about being in a forest; there’s loads of trees to take cover behind. The bad part, there’s little to no space for a cart to move through off road; especially not one dubbed the ‘glitter shitter’ and the moment your enemies make it up close, you’re already screwed.

Where are these guys coming from? Orym thinks. There’s more than they expected. Apparently Poska had learned her lesson after the whole ordeal; sending just the two to kill them, then falling under Fearne’s spell herself. She wasn’t going to let them get away a third time. Opal is about to take another hit but Orym swings in, covering her with the shield and successfully deflecting the blow. Then need a game changer and they need it quickly.

“Opal, if you ever thought apologising to your sister was a good idea, please let it be now.” Orym suggests and while Opal already had a brush with death once, she’s a stubborn one. She’s not backing down now. Ted’s wrong. She’s right but Orym does have a point. Could she fake apologise? Orym doesn’t care. As long as this works and they get out.

Dariax goes down but luckily Fearne is nearby to get him back to his feet. Dorian is in a scuffle with two of the Nameless Ones and there’s no disengaging with where he’s at so he keeps swinging his weapons trying to inspire the others to help the group as much as he can. Fy’ra is kicking some ass but she can’t save them all and she knows that. Orym gives Opal the chance to back off and get out of the thick of it. Their assailants are pushing them together, slowly enclosing them and they’re succeeding. Within a few rounds they have nowhere to run.

“We’re surrounded. What now?” Fearne looks at the faces of the Nameless Ones. One of them jumps a little meeting her glare. Good she left an impression but it’s not going to help her much.

The first one gets ready to strike, opens his mouth to speak but the words fall silent. Instead the man lets out a soundless scream. The bloodied head of an arrow visible to the group. Frantically the Nameless Ones look around for who just shot their buddy. Sinking to the ground clutching his throat that one’s out of the game. One down, several to go.

Sticking to the shadows and hiding in and behind the trees you keep moving every time you release another arrow. This group needs some desperate help so when you got a call from an old friend saying adventure and trouble’s on the horizon, how could you refuse. These poor suckers look like they could use some help. Seriously, they have two people that look like they’re properly prepared for a fight? How have they lasted this long? Granted, you came in a bit late and missed most of their fight but you’re here now so does it really matter?

“This is your first and only chance so listen carefully. You leave these people be. Return to your boss and tell her to piss off or you’re going to end up just like your buddy over there.” You hide up high among the branches. The thugs search the grounds but don’t spot you. Idiots.

“Yeah! You better listen to them!” The dwarf cheers on but is quickly silenced by Orym. How could they even be sure you’re a friend and not just someone else looking for the bounty on their heads? Then again, you did tell the thugs to leave them alone and pretty much told Poska to shove it.

You notice one of the thugs reach for a sword, making a move to attack the group. The halfling deflects the blow and swings back. This kickstarts the whole fight again. Okay, playtime’s over. You rain down hellfire from the comfort of your trees picking them off one by one. Both the groups and the thugs catch sight of a shadow moving through but you’ve disappeared before they can track you. In a matter of seconds with the collective fighting back of the group you’ve taken down most of their assailants.

The halfling is being attacked by one of the thugs who relentlessly keeps hitting. The intent is clear; kill. While the halfling deflects and dodges a fair amount of hits, still plenty of them come through and he’s looking a little worse for wear. You land down on the forest floor with grace, light on your feet you barely even make a noise. You draw an arrow calling upon your teachings of old. You pull back the string to the corner of your lips keeping you shoulders low allowing the back muscles to do all the work. You release the string, letting your fingertips slide off, watching the arrow fly and hit the halfling’s attacker right in the chest. It’s a true hit.

When Orym sees another hit incoming he lifts his shield to take cover but the hit never comes. Instead the attacker is gone and there he sees you, bow lifted, still in the aftermath of releasing the arrow you fired. You give him a little wink as you draw another arrow. Your place given away, one of the last thugs runs for you. You before the idiot can even reach you, draw another arrow, repeats the process but this time when your arrow strikes a burst of brambles takes hold over the thug. The thug tries to get out but the poison is strong enough to finish him.

“You might wanna move out of the way.” You turn your attention back to the halting who isn’t going to question your suggestion. The thug that disappeared reappears in the previous spot striking down and hitting nothing but dirt. You nock another arrow and fire. Killing shot. You’re on a roll. With the tides sufficiently turned and the thugs strongly outmatched you finish off the last of them. You certainly knew how to catch their attention.

You’re going around, collecting your arrows, or whatever still usable, letting the group do their thing. Finally getting a good look at you Orym hesitates to interrupt you. Perhaps it’s because you’re intimidating, your looks certainly fit the badass angel of death aesthetic. You’re dropped gorgeous. Or maybe he’s hesitant to approach for another reason. You saved his ass a few times during that fight and you’re highly skilled with a bow. He’s heard stories about archers like you and you’re like a myth standing right in front of him. Everything about you calls for his attention.

You notice the halfling keeping an eye on you. What were you told his name was again? Orym. He’s definitely cuter than you were told. Maybe you’ll stick around for a little while? Arrows gathered, unusable ones disposed of as a nice message left behind for the Nameless Ones that dare tread behind and make a move. The group has gathered most of their bearings but you need to move on soon. Others might follow.

“You all good? Because we need to move as soon as possible.” You come over to the group and you can feel Orym staring, his eyes following as you go. You’re unsure if it’s because you’re the stranger out here, the stunts you just pulled off, you being completely unimpressed by absolutely laying waste to these thugs or something else.

“Thank you. For your help and saving us, saving me. I don’t think we would still be standing weren’t it for you.” Orym tells you, gratitude and admiration written over his face. He’s surprised he doesn’t stumble over his words. You’ve caught him off guard in such a way he’s unsure how to handle it.

Helping them pack up and het back on the road you find yourself sharing the reigns of the ‘glitter shitter’ with Orym. You keep an eye out on the road jumping off every so often to do a perimeter sweep just to make sure you’re not being followed. You have a few conversations, mainly just trivial stuff between the two of you but the man hasn’t made a move yet to go into anything beyond surface levels of personal. After a good hour of silence, conversation seemingly having come to an end, nothing left to talk about just yet, Orym surprises you by breaking that silence.

“I just need to get this off my chest. When you came in, dropping those thugs dead like flies, you took my breath away and I don’t know how to say this the right way but you’re as gorgeous as you are deadly.” Flustered Orym keeps his eyes on the road not daring to look at you for a response. What if he said the wrong thing? He didn’t want to make things awkward between you and him and the group but he’s also at the point where he couldn’t not address this in fear it might get in the way in the future. Better to speak and be let down than say nothing and act solely on attraction later.

You face him with a grin. While somewhat socially awkward, but a good fighter, you appreciate his courage. The dusting of scarlet spreading across his cheeks really warms your heart. You’ve said it before; cute.

“Well, don’t hold back on these compliments on my account. Flattery will get you everywhere.” You offer him another wink. This might just be the start of something fun. Maybe in time Orym will be able to flirt without getting flustered and that day might come sooner rather than later. He, just like you, is full of surprises. Maybe he’ll even get you to blush if he’s feeling particularly courageous.