And here the beast came, enraged by the sorcerer's attack. At least that looked like it had some kind of effect on it, but nevermind that. Russ took a deep breath, and as he did so focused down the barrel of his weapon and took in the details, the little things needed to set up a shot with something as unreliable as a smoothbore musket, even one as well-made as Nat. He took careful note of the dragon's awkward stride and its speed, both likely somewhat impaired from its injuries. He took note of the wind, which wouldn't matter much at that distance but it was best to make sure. He took note of the angle, put it all together, and picked a target.

He would've liked to hit one of its eyes cleanly, but the situation didn't lend itself to it. The charge, complete with the occasional shake of the head, made it more complicated, and the shut eyelids might just make it an annoyance rather than a clean, blinding injury. Better to exploit the damage others had done on easier targets was his lightning fast judgement. Russ exhaled slowly, relaxed and squeezed the trigger, and the unmistakeable detonation of gunpowder rang out in the forest as a lead ball capable of piercing plate armor and killing a man made its way towards one of the open wounds on the dragon's more vulnerable gut.

Soon as he was done firing the shot, he opened up Nat's breech with practiced, mechanical motions, taking in the smell of the recently fired gun as he prepared a new cartridge to load, while also keeping his eyes fixed on the target and his body ready to jump off the roof and seek cover should it be drawn towards him. Hopefully, the others' actions would keep it occupied.