Blood still streaming from his nose, ribs aching, and the amulet around his neck burning hot against his skin, Salvio was a vessel of righteous fury. He didn’t hear the muttered thanks from his makeshift ally, he didn’t hear anything except the roar in his ears, and the soft, angelic voice that echoed around his head, the hammers slipping from his grasp and falling to the floor. 
While the witch handled one of the remaining footmen, Salvio’s burning eyes turned to face the other. He saw the glimmer of fear in the man’s eyes, and it was the only window he needed. Even above the sound of battle, Salvio’s voice was a roar.

[b]“Drop it!”[/b]

The soldiers spear fell from a suddenly loose grip, clattering against the cracked stone at his feet. He only had an instant to look down at his discarded weapon, dumbfounded, before Salvio was upon him. One hand grabbing the front of the footman’s leather jerkin, the warrior priest punched him across the face. Once. Twice. Three times. Salvio could feel the bones shifting beneath his fist with each blow, and when he finally lowered his bloody, aching fist, the soldier’s face was little more than a mangled, broken mess. 

With a wordless shout, and a clenching of his free hand, Salvio felt the power from the amulet, the heat of it flowing through him for an instant, and with a sudden crack, the earth itself burst upwards a few feet. The ruptured earth had the appearance of some strange, twisted stalagmite, but Salvio paid it no attention. He leant close to the face of the soldier, the only sound the rasping breath through broken teeth, and he spoke in a low voice. 

[b]“I hope your gods judge you fairly.”[/b]

Teeth gritted, and very limbs aching, Salvio lifted the soldier into the air, holding the man up for an instant, before bringing the limp body crashing down. The pillar of broken earth punched through the man’s chest with a splintering of bone, spraying blood across Salvio’s already blood-stained face. The screams of pain were horrific, but they were short-lived. Salvio straightened up, and glanced down at the twisted face of the corpse. He couldn’t be sure if it was the shock or the horrendous injuries that had killed him, but Salvio couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

The power of the amulet suddenly left him, and the weariness, and the pain, hit Salvio like a wave. He groaned slightly, dropping to one knee for a moment. His chest still ached, the ribs still sore from the collision with the warhorse, what seemed like an eternity ago. The flow of blood from his nose had subsided, but the pain had not faded. And the sheer exertion had drained his body of much of it’s strength. 

A voice called him back to the present, and he turned slightly to see that the foul witch had knocked the other footman to the ground, four bolts of what looked like ice pinned the terrified man to the floor, and Salvio couldn’t help but feel a chill in the air. 

Glancing around at the carnage of the battle, Salvio saw that their attackers had all been slain, or were otherwise handled. Allowing himself to relax, he slowly rose to his feet. Picking up his hammers from where they had fallen, Salvio walked back to their campsite, wincing slightly with each step. He vaguely noticed that another of the ‘possessed’ had followed suit, but he paid the young woman no heed, instead moving to his own pack of modest belongings. Picking up his heavy plate armour, Salvio began the rhythmic process of putting it on, lest there were any other uninvited guests.