[i]Thanks for the late miracle[/i], Bram composed in his head. He felt pain in many parts of his body, but it wasn't anything new. He forced himself up, as the thugs were occupied with the young woman. She had approached them quite handily with the axe, but it was time to even the odds. Bram still had the walking stick with him. It was made of thick pine, and while it wouldn't crack any skulls, goblin or human, it would make nice bruises.
	Bram was standing, and took a swing with the stick at the fourth man, who had emerged from the alley. He had a woolen tunic, though it was hard to see his face in the darkness. Bram aimed at his head, and the stick struck true to the side of the head. The man fell, not knowing what had hit him. "Bastard!", the man grunted grunted, spitting.
	Bram struck him again to his head, this time knocking the man out of the fight. The last attackers, though still in the fight and circling the young woman, they seemed to be getting nervous and insecure. They were holding their distance from the woman, weighing their options. To fight or to fight, that was the question.
	And the answer came quickly. After a couple tense seconds, a shout came down the street. Bram didn't turn at the shouter. "Halt, in the name of the Earl. You're under arrest." Bram recognized the voice, and it belonged to one of the guardsmen of the town. He had fought with him on couple occasions, although Bram didn't remember his name at the moment.
	The attackers didn't halt, but turned their tails and ran away, both sprinting into different alleys. Bram didn't want to go and chase them, as his head was still ringing. It would turn into a headache by the morning, but he'd survive.
	"Nicely struck", Bram said to the woman He checked on his friends, although they were bruised, they'd be all right in the end. "I didn't catch your name, by any chance. Mine's Bram."