Herschem gasped in pain as the arrow hit him. It went through his back and out his side. While it missed the more vital organs, the enchantments within it were potent, and sizzling pain and disruption ran along his nerve endings. Almost dead he floated in air.
By sheer force of will he pulled the arrow out, and started to fly upwards. Two more arrows flew past him, barely missing him, one raising sparks as it hit the magical fields of force around him that was his armor. Herschem drank his last two potions, feeling his body reconstitute the interior parts that the arrow had fried.
Another arrow hit him, but this one only gave him a slight gash. Forcing his mind past the pain, he pulled out a wand and began firing blobs of sticky webbing. While designed for use against combat troops, he hoped that the falling strands would catch whoever the expert archer was and keep him from struggling.
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