no mead, no mercy

Jorrik grimaced as the runes flashed orange and black across his vision. This was a dangerous kind magic alright. He drew his bow and nocked an arrow.

"Everyone, find cover," he growled, blinking rapidly. "Anyone with any ranged attacks get ready to loose a volley."

He sprinted for the bush next to him and trained his eye on the approaching valkyries. When they got within range, he'd loose a shot. If only the runes would stop flashing...