Khaylan struggled back onto his feet, shouting in defiance of his pain. The crossbow bolt was firmly wedged in his shoulder, making his left arm all but useless. Fortunately, he knew enough about combat to know not to pull the bolt out, lest he lose even more blood from such a large wound. He knew he needed to end this fight now, before he lost consciousness and perhaps, his very life. As though from a great distance, he heard a woman screaming.

His fellow knights had already turned the what was a largely one sided battle into a full rout, falling amongst the brigands and almost casually slaughtering them where they stood. Already the men with crossbows lie dead, and each crossbow was shattered on the ground so they could not continue being used. What few outlaws remained were already making a run for it, no longer a match for steel swords and plate armor.

Khaylan gasped loudly in pain, stumbling over to the horses and calling out. "Brothers... I need a healer..."

He looked over to his two fellow knights, who appeared to be finishing off the wounded and cleaning their weapons on the fallen. The grisly task finished, they made their way towards Khaylan, each of them staring at the bolt embedded in his shoulder.