The archer was, by this time, heartily sick of all these armored people that seemed to shrug off his arrows like so many bees. Having a sword thrown at him, of all things, seemed just to make him more angry. The arrow flew true, despite the fog, but once again
glanced off the big man's armor, leading to another string of cursing followed by a 'splash' as the archer gave up and flung himself over the side.
One of the guards with whom they'd come, seeing the escape, was quick to call out to those watching on the dock. The hapless archer was turned into a pincushion in short order.
{{Combat Over}}