This time there's no hesitation in Raylin's movements as he draws his bow. True, the man doesn't exactly have 'non-lethal' arrows...but he does consider himself to be an excellent marksman, and there's plenty of body parts he can aim for that won't immediately kill a foe. Besides, just a quick initial shot or two will help to distract the Miserables while his own party gets into position, so he doesn't necessarily need his shots to actually hit anything this early into the fight.

That said, the nobleman still frowns as both of his first two arrows go completely wide, flying well over the heads of the opposing team. "What in the world? I know I couldn't have been that far off!"

"If you don't put your full effort into it, you don't have a chance!" Barlond pulls out a flail and begins building up momentum for a swing, but the elf has to quickly halt his advance to grab on to Raylin's collar and pull him aside. A bolt of lightning passes through where Raylin was standing a moment before, cracking against the support pillar behind them, and he shivers at the close miss.

"So be it, then - full effort! Sweet, track down that rogue of theirs and make sure she doesn't get behind us! Taylim, try to distract their leader so he can't block our shots! Weaver Pizola, can you weaken their ability to act?"

"Oh, I have quite a few options at my disposal. Perhaps we'll start with a classic, hrmm?" With a slight grin the drider gets to casting a spell, and soon half a dozen other Raylins have stepped forward, drawing their bows. It doesn't take long before a hailstorm of illusory arrows are firing across the arena, and the original Raylin quickly moves to take advantage of the distraction, firing his own among the swarm.

This time however he only gets a single shot off before Slinz has cast a flare spell that briefly blinds the man, and when he blinks his eyes clear he realizes that his false companions are nowhere to be seen. "A counterspell?"

Pizola growls at his side, showing perhaps the most displeasure he's seen from her yet. "A light-based spell of some sort, with a disruptive effect. The girl is no illusionist, but it was enough to disrupt visual illusions regardless. That said, I've been manipulating light since before that lass was born - we'll see how she likes her own medicine!" Her next spell is far less subtle, with a series of differently-colored sprites flying from her fingers and into the air, bathing the area in varying shades of light. It has an immediate effect of revealing the Miserable's half-elf rogue, although Sweet's excellent sense of smell had already been leading her that way regardless.

Between the Bloodletter and the Backstabber Rogue, there should seem to be no contest. Both of the two wield daggers, but Sweet's come closer in size to Nalaney's full height than to Nalaney's blades, with a single swing likely being capable of cutting the smaller woman in half. Yet Nalaney shows no fear as she charges the towering plains gnoll, dodging through both of her initial swings. Sweet then attempts to move to a more defensive posture but it's already too late - Nalaney's goal wasn't to simply strike at her, but to grab on to one of the gnoll's thick arms and swing herself upwards, landing on Sweet's left shoulder. Just as Sweet's about to pluck the offending rogue from herself one of Pizola's sprites chooses that inopportune moment to flash in front of her eyes, slowing her down just long enough. Before Sweet can recover both of her shoulder blades are sporting brand new dagger-shaped piercings, and Nalaney has already launched herself back to the ground, pulling out fresh blades and seeking out her next target.

Barlond, at least, seems to be enjoying himself. The Thunder Priest, Nalaff, keeps hurling lightning bolt after lightning bolt at the man, but in this case the arena's rules are working against the half-elf. In order to avoid striking the Paladin with a lethal blow, Nalaff has to ensure that his magic doesn't reach too high a level of charge. And yet, what should be sufficient to send the leather-clad elf to the ground twitching and screaming instead only seems to be causing the man to smile. "Oi, don't be a fool, now! If you make me strike you harder, it's your life at stake!"

Barlond chuckles in return. "Harder? Please. I once dated an Elementalist who would burn more magic than this during foreplay!" The elf charges forward, flail swinging, and Bank is soon there to intercept the man. Unfortunately he's soon struck by his own opponent, as Taylim practically tackles the other human to the ground. It's far from the most elegant takedown, but the obscene luck of the Miserables can only bend the laws of physics so far, and sometimes there's just no avoiding several hundred pounds of armor-encased man meat.

The two end up rolling on the ground, their swords and shields forgotten as they begin exchanging blows, and the odds ought to favor Taylim in such an exchange. While he's not as massive as Sweet may be, the Royal Sentinel has at least half a foot and probably a good fifty pounds over the younger Bank, not to mention far more experience. Yet every solid blow turns into a glancing hit, and Taylim soon comes to the surprising conclusion that Bank's armor might actually be superior to his own. Taylim's equipment is far from cheap, with a few basic enchantments for improved durability, but the charisma effects of Bank's armor reveal themselves to have unexpected properties. Despite himself Taylim has trouble taking his eyes off of the elegant patterns carved into the collar and shoulder pauldrons of the set, each time causing his strikes to land a little too slowly.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Seeing that his blows aren't having the effect he's hoping for, Taylim decides to take...drastic measures.

Raylin blinks as he lines up his next shot. "...Taylim? Are you...embracing that young man?"

"Their luck protects them from harm, my lord. It has less to say about protecting them from a good, manly hug."

Bank squirms as Taylim lifts him up, nerves growing as he realizes that his superior armor does nothing to bridge the gap in strength between himself and the Sentinel. "This is - very uncomfortable! And hardly fitting for a duel! How do you even expect to actually defeat me with a hug!?"

Any possible answer is drowned out by the sudden sound of a thunderclap exploding next to them, followed up by Barlond's body smashing into the pair. Nalaff barely looks much better himself, with the priest collapsing to his knees at the exertion of the spell he just pulled forth. "I...have drawn heavily on Roe's favor for that one. Bank, you're not too badly hurt, I - aggh!"

The man's collapse is quickly accelerated by an arrow finding its way into his right leg, and Raylin sighs in relief. "A dozen shots for a single hit, dear gods. At least their luck also managed to keep the blow from being a lethal one. Now Taylim, move away from - phaw!?" The archer's own command is interrupted by the flash of a dagger not far from his face, and while Raylin's relieved to find his neck still intact after it's gone, he's less pleased to realize that the string of his bow has been sliced. He can't see what Nalaney is up to, but knowing that the woman prefers attacks from the rear he quickly rolls forward, just barely dodging an attempt at his right shoulder.

"Gah! How'd you see me from behind you? Got eyes in the back of your head? No matter, I can catch up!" With that said the half-elf continues swiping at Raylin's limbs, just barely missing as the man continues to duck away. Melee combat isn't Raylin's main strength, but he does at least have the height advantage over the smaller rogue. The man attempts to draw his own blade, only to watch it fumble from his fingers as he does so - certainly due to luck shenanigans and not clumsiness on his own part, he's sure. He is relieved however to see a furious Sweet charging in his direction.

"Sweet! Buy me time and I can re-string my bow!"

"Certainly, my lord!" The Bloodletter raises her daggers in a strike the distracted rogue couldn't possibly avoid - only for her eyes to grow wide with pain as her foot lands atop a dropped dagger, unfortunately planted in the sand pointy-end-up after its recent fall. Her charge quickly falters into a crash into Nalaney and Raylin, much like that which stunned Bank, Taylim, and Barlond a moment earlier...except this one involves quite a few exposed blades in the middle of the pile, many of which manage to find new homes in various organs as the trio collapse into a pile.

This still leaves the two driders on their many feet, although both seem far too busy with each other to notice the troubles of the rest of their teams. As a Solar Arcanist Slinz's spells focus on the generation of light, along with a few more general spells such as arcane blasts and so forth. This leaves her far more limited than the variety of performing tricks Pizola has apparently picked up over the years, however to Slinz's advantage her focus is far more offense-oriented. The illusions Pizola weaves are quickly blasted apart by solar beams, if they manage to fool Slinz at all in the first place, and the basic shields and counterspells the woman knows are barely enough to keep up with the younger drider's magical reserves.

"You are a determined one, aren't you, dear? But I'm afraid you'll need another forty years of experience if you want to show me up!"

"Or I could wait another four months before you get sent back to the nursing web, elder Weaver! I'll land a hit sooner or later, meanwhile I doubt your tricks will do much to harm me!"

"We'll see about that! My preferred school was illusions, but I spent some time as an acrobat myself, you know!" Twirling her wand, Pizola changes her target to her own feet, and with a sudden boost the drider is leaping through the air directly towards Slinz. A solar beam does skim the side of her torso, making her groan, but it does nothing to halt her momentum and a moment later Pizola's landed on the younger woman's back. She quickly gets to spinning in two senses of the word, dancing around in rotations as web ejects from her abdomen, coating Slinz's spidery half to her embarrassment.

"You're webbing me!? Are you - are you serious!?"

"If you can't respect your elders, then we'll just have to bundle you up like a child! I'll also take that, while I'm at it." With a flick of her wrist Pizola's yoinked the staff from Slinz's hands, and she looks on with a pleased expression at the other drider's immobility. That pleased expression fades soon after though as her hand suddenly reaches for her chest.

"Oh...oh, I...may have...over-exerted myself there..."

Pizola tumbles off of Slinz's back, and a few dozen feet away a spider in a suit looks on with a bit of confusion. Everywhere he turns his eight eyes see people on the ground stunned, wounded, bound, or possibly suffering a severe heart attack, and he comes to the only conclusion he can.

"Ladies and gentlemen! We...have a tie?"

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