“Ser Ramza, I can get him!”

That was Muriel, ponytail jouncing as she turned her head. What he could see of her face through the eyeslits of her helmet was streaked with sweat and dirt, but her eyes were bright. That’d be the haste spell– it always made him feel a bit giddy. He watched as she bounced on her toes, swinging her lance around to point at the goblin that was glaring at them from beyond the ridge.

“If I go now, I’ll be on him before he even sees my shadow,” she insisted, knees bending.

Ramza held up a hand to keep her from leaving. Dragoons, lightly armored and excitable, tended to pop off into the air whenever the mood took them, which was often. “Wait until Dametta comes down from the trees; I’d like to know how many of those things are hiding up there before we go charging in.”

“Looks like four goblins,” Dametta panted from behind him, “and a chocobo that was minding its own business, but it’ll charge us if we get too close. From the look of it the beasts already have our scent. Best that we move soon.”

“So it’s settled, I’ll just get that one on the ridge, and you can sort out the rest,” Muriel grinned.

Ramza let out a breath through his nostrils. Letting Joyse practice time manipulation spells on an already-hyperactive Dragoon had probably been a bad idea. He turned to the soft-spoken mage, who was standing in the shade of the tree Dametta had just climbed down from. “Is there anything you could do to give us a bit of advantage? I’m afraid we’ve lost the element of surprise.”

“Mm.” Joyse tipped her hat back to squint at the ridge. “I might be able to slow him down a little.” She raised her hands. “Stand back please.”

Stepping back to a safe distance, Ramza reached out again to keep Muriel from launching off. Joyse’s eyes glowed briefly beneath the brim of her hat as she chanted. Dametta twirled a shuriken between her fingers, bored. After a moment Joyse’s shoulders relaxed a little, and her hands vanished into their sleeves again. “Hm. Didn’t take,” she said. Ramza rolled his eyes.

“Well, Muriel, if you think you can–”

Ramza winced as the Dragoon rocketed up into the air, seeming to come to a stop at the apex of her jump before crashing down on the hapless goblin, who hadn’t even thought to look up. The other goblins, however, all turned at the deafening pots-and-pants sound of a person in armor landing on a soft body.

Ramza drew his sword. “Dametta, get up high and keep them busy with your shuriken, but keep out of that chocobo’s reach. I’ll try to corral them into a group so Joyse can get a good shot of fire in. Muriel, I’ll leave our feathered friend to you.” He glanced around. “Has anyone seen Agrias?”

“You left her at the bottom of the hill with Mustadio and Beowulf,” Dametta reminded him. “She said she didn’t fancy climbing this hill in all that armor, remember?”

“Ah. Yes. Not to worry, I’m sure we can handle these on our own. Let’s go!”