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The Drakkar’s reactions are handicapped by his heavy armour, and he is beaten by the speed and accuracy of your shot. Your Arrow strikes him in the throat before he can raise his shield, and it brings him crashing to his knees. Groaning in agony, his gauntleted fingers scrabbling uselessly at your feathered shaft, he topples backwards and tumbles down the stairs, felling his comrades like skittles as he careers through their ranks. The few who are not bowled over by their leader immediately open fire at you with their crossbows, forcing you to dive for cover behind the parapet. As you crouch beside Lone Wolf, a sudden shriek echoes across the observatory platform, making you glance over your shoulder in fearful anticipation.
