06-12-2014, 06:31 PM
Yves coughed and sat up on his elbows. He didn't remember getting knocked down, but from the look of the scorching on the ground around him, some idiot with an Elfire tome had blasted him off his feet. He'd be lucky if he had eyebrows after this nonsense. His armor was singed and sooty from the blast, but his limbs seemed mercifully intact. Pure water did tend to stick around on skin longer than it did on armor, thankfully.
The armored man stood and lifted his shield, picking up a fallen steel lance as he rose. The mage who he assumed had knocked him on his armor-plated rear end was standing about twenty feet off, and from the chanting Yves picked up on, it wasn't going to be a fun time for him if he didn't do something quick. Casting a glance around him, he spotted a mostly-intact javelin sticking out of someones back. He'd never been particularly good with ranged weaponry, but push was definitely coming to shove: a screeching ball of yellow flame was forming above the mage.
Yves offered up a swift prayer to whoever was listening, took two steps forward, and hurled the spear at the robed enchanter. It struck the woman in the side, but Yves had no time for celebration. The spell she had been casting instantly destabilized without her concentration on it, and a shriek of hissing flame sounded above the sounds of combat.
"...Son of a-"
The explosion rocked the ground around them both. Yves had raised his shield at the last second, but the heat and blast still drove him to his knees. Everything hurt. He managed to peer over the rim of the very, very blackened kite shield, and fought the urge to empty his stomach as he did. It would be the last thing he fought for a while. Battered and singed, he sat back on the ground, planting his lance and shield beside him.
"Saint Elimine, we must have seriously pissed you off."
The armored man stood and lifted his shield, picking up a fallen steel lance as he rose. The mage who he assumed had knocked him on his armor-plated rear end was standing about twenty feet off, and from the chanting Yves picked up on, it wasn't going to be a fun time for him if he didn't do something quick. Casting a glance around him, he spotted a mostly-intact javelin sticking out of someones back. He'd never been particularly good with ranged weaponry, but push was definitely coming to shove: a screeching ball of yellow flame was forming above the mage.
Yves offered up a swift prayer to whoever was listening, took two steps forward, and hurled the spear at the robed enchanter. It struck the woman in the side, but Yves had no time for celebration. The spell she had been casting instantly destabilized without her concentration on it, and a shriek of hissing flame sounded above the sounds of combat.
"...Son of a-"
The explosion rocked the ground around them both. Yves had raised his shield at the last second, but the heat and blast still drove him to his knees. Everything hurt. He managed to peer over the rim of the very, very blackened kite shield, and fought the urge to empty his stomach as he did. It would be the last thing he fought for a while. Battered and singed, he sat back on the ground, planting his lance and shield beside him.
"Saint Elimine, we must have seriously pissed you off."