Arnir, your arrow strikes the thug unerringly in the sternum. At such close range, the full draw of your bow plows the arrow through his armor, snapping his ribs, rending internal organs and finally, severing his spine as the arrow head exits his back. His body is thrown back and he lays, quite dead, on the frosty cobblestones.
"Rantle!" cries Torrent as she steps to I18 and lines up another swing from her axe, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her axe catches the thug on the back of the skull and with a sickening crack and a spray of blood, he falls to the ground. She takes a moment to wipe some blood from her face before cracking a smile and saying: "You're obviously not here to save me."