Gillian could not help but feel a momentary pang of sympathy for the bandits as the iron wave of knights bore down on them. While the bandits were not caught with their pants down (well, most he would note, seeing a surprised pair of young men rush from their tent swords in hand and trousers nowhere to be seen), there were few who managed to recover from the sudden shock of a deadly rain, nor could he blame them. The sympathy, however, quickly vanished as the charge pushed him forward, threatening to trample him if he did not keep pace. 

He chose his first target quickly, a shorter woman currently fumbling to load a crossbow, too far forward to use the weapon effectively and too stunned to care. His arm shuddered as he felt his spear bury itself in her chest as the two forces slammed into one another, confusion followed by grim recognition flashing across the woman’s face before he wrenched the weapon back and the body falls limply to the ground. He raises his shield and advances over the corpse, doubting the other bandits would fall so easily now that the ambush had been sprung. 

The next bandit had fared better than his companion, having found a kite shield and sword to hold as the knights charged forward. He sneered at Gillian, holding the shield high to cover his torso as the knight advanced on him. As the spear forced its way through the man’s leg, he and Gillian began to understand the huge disparity between the two forces training and how effectively the knights were slaughtering the bandits, tactics aside. [i] “Sorry Klien, seems you will lose this one…”[/i] Gillian thinks, drawing his sword staggers and falls backwards shield and weapon abandoned to claw at the offending intruder to his formerly impregnable defense. [i] “Even that child would have difficulty loosing this engagement.”[/i] Gillian mused as he thrusted the blade through his opponent’s chest. 

Over the roar of clashing blades Gillian hears, “Cover me! I have an idea!”, as he pulls the blade free with a quiet wet pop. He turns and sees a blue haired young girl fiddles with bottles and some section of cloth, and large pair bandits with clubs advance on her.  Where there time, Gillian would have loved to complain of her brazenness. Stopping in the middle of a battle to tinker, what hubris! 
Instead he stowed those thoughts for later, rushing the bandit pair. The first feel easily, not having seen the rushing knight in the chaos of the fight, and only becoming aware of his presence as a blade slammed itself into his side, freeing his arm from his torso and creating a lovely new orifice. The second proved more a challenge, turning to face Gillian as his friend squealed in shock, swinging wildly. Gillian raise his shield as the club came down, the painful buzz of metal meeting metal in his ears confirmed blow had been blocked. The bandit struck again adjusting his strikes angle, taking advantage of the pause the knight needed to free his weapon from his dead or dying comrade. Again the buzz of metal rang in Gillian’s ears, but he felt a sharp pain as the club slammed into his shoulder. The partial block did its duty tough, as the knight freed his weapon from the bandit and stabbed at his unarmored assailant. 

As the bandit dropped something arced over Gillian’s head, shattering against the wood throne at the heart of the camp. “….that is not a plan.” Gillian says (as much to himself as to the blue haired young woman), watching as orange flame began to consume traitorous furniture where the butt of evil once slept. “That is barely even arson, much less a plan”, he says, checking his shoulder, albeit a wasted gesture.  The artificial arm did not bruise from such a glancing blow, though that did not stop it feeling like it would. 
[@AtomicNut]