As Traben stalked his way towards the fight, more fighters appeared seemingly from nothing. One moment, the elf he had saved was surrounded by goblins, and the next a sorceress blasted them all with arcane energy. At the use of magic, the wolves following Traben growled low, but didn't slow any. Traben himself was only a few yards from the kingsroad now, the battle-turned-massacre on the other side of the wagon he was approaching.

Seeking the goblin he had slain, Traben wordlessly retrieved his arrow, wiping the blood staining the tip off in the grass. For a few moments, his gaze passed between the injured elf and the newly arrived sorceress. His weapons had returned to his hips as the goblins had died, and his hands were currently occupied by the heads of two of the wolves. They pressed close to his legs, on edge in the presence of one who worked unnatural magics. While not sharing the same hostility, Traben himself was no fan of the arcane.

"It seems you are fortunate," he said in the direction of the injured elf, "but that arrow needs to be removed. If you would permit me, I will help you with it. And if you could help me help her," Traben said to the sorceress, "it should go even easier."