Oh boy, I'm having too many of these moments where I just blank out. I swear for what sometimes feels like weeks.

Er, right. We were fighting... archers I believe? A drake and human pelting arrows at us on the back of a cart (they probably thought we were bandits/'xp' to them, likely the latter)... I was going to say they were screwed more or less, but it seemed as if the drake got clemency and the human became an athlete. A good one at that, stopping briefly at times to shoot arrows while running like a mad man.

When it came to the drake, I was pleasantly surprised that we didn't have to kill everyone we met (at least the non-psychotics). That said, I only recently loosened my tight grip, knives warm to the touch as the archer's odd ability of running and shooting was matched by a knife. Our goblin thief Backstabs actually had a great shot at the guy's leg with said knife (something we could exchange a few skills in) whilst Dorisma stormed towards the archer, preparing to end his crippled misery.

Thinking my presence would just be overkill, I walked steadily towards Robert, unmarked by the fighting and inspecting my somewhat unkempt clothes. (Well, I'd probably need a good wash on my rather misleading noble clothes, based on the specks of blood, gashed tears and dust blots that have since developed.) "Robert-" Just as I said his name, I flinched somewhat from the arrow yanked from his chest, half-feeling the supposed sharp pain in my chest. "Alright, a small gash was one thing, but an arrow wound to the chest might be out of my league." I spoke, having composed myself whilst paying attention to the fighting a bit further away. Whilst basically waving my palms at the wound slowly and without much of a fuss.