[h2][b][center]Gillian[/center][/b][/h2]

As the other knights scrambled about the battlefield, Gillian almost lazily steered Julia off the path and dismounted, taking his sweet time with the act. Parnella long since beat into him the lesson of staying calm during a fight. Not for any overly strategic reason, obviously. It was just that most folks were very hesitant to attack someone who walked through a battlefield like they owned the place. Less so if said person had several layers of metal grafted to their limbs.

After a quick moment to pat Julia on her flank he walked back into the chaos, as casually as one might a stroll through the woods. He took a moment to survey the goings on of the fight. The melee was pretty much handled, though it was hard for him to call it an elegant strategy. Most of the knights seemed only half interested in listening to the 'Captain's orders, barking their own commands as additions or throwing out their own counter strategies from what he could hear. But, credit to her where it was due, she'd atleast been the first one to give the order. 

He broadened his circle around the combat, content to stay out of the brawl and work his way towards the back lines as the little girl had ordered. He got about half way when the crossbowmen-bandits finally noticed him, a small cluster of six closer to him turn and firing on him hurriedly. Gillian dropped low, his hands grasping into the earth as three poorly aimed reactionary shots whizzed past him. To give the poor bastards credit, they atleast proved to him in that volley they weren't entirely incompetent. Crossbows were great for ease of use, but most greenhorns tended to forget you were vulnerable during the slow reloading process. These gentlemen compensated as best they could, one half providing covering fire while the other reloaded. 

Gill locked eyes with an aiming bandit, a honest and easy smile spreading across his lips as he silently congratulated as a familiar unnatural strength oozed into his arms. The bandit in question had about half a second to pull the trigger before Gillian launched himself at the squad, basically firing himself like a slingshot, deadly bolts thudding uselessly into the dirt where the knight once stood. 

Gillian slammed into a bandit feet first, feeling something beneath the mans armor give way as the knight suddenly and violently decellerated on top of him and throwing him to the group. The bandit to his left, a short man with ruddy hair, screamed a curse as he turned his crossbow to Gillian, only to find a clawed hand slapping the weapon from his grasp and another plunge itself into his chest. 

With the faint stunned gurgling from the man now impaled on his wrist, Gillian swung his free hand wide, clipping a retreating bandit across the shoulder and stumbling him as the four remaining members of the squad attempted to gain some distance. "FUCKING KILL IT!" One of the men screamed, firing his newly reloaded crossbow at the knight, the bolt going wide and sinking into the captive dying bandit. Gillian reached forward, snatching the bandits skull in his grasp and yanking downwards, a sickly crunch echoing in the vicinity as bone shattered against dirt. 

Gillian wrenched his hand from the red heads chest, a soft squelching noise erupting from the soon to be cadaver as it feel limply to the ground. The two remaining bandits stared at him, both having abandoned their crossbows in favor of drawing short swords. Their guards were poor, arms too far apart and blades wavering in their shaking hands. Beneath him, his landing pad wheezed wetly. [color=00aeef][i]'Punctured lung. Probably two.'[/i][/color] Gillian noted dully, stepping off the man slowly as he kept himself low to the ground. Hunched and animal like, feeding into the remaining two bandits fear of the inhuman like thing that just tore through their companions and shocked them into stillness.

Fear tactics like this didn't always work. Especially not against more learned opponents. But Gillian knew from experience how well even a  normally skilled fighter could simply dissolve into uselessness when scared enough. The left most bandit broke first; dropping his blade and turning to flee. His remaining companion turned to follow, a panicked scream cut short as white hot pain seared through him as claws rippled and played along his spine. 

"I...I YIELD I YIELD!" The final bandit wailed, flinging himself into the swarming melee and rushing to the young captain as fast as his legs could carry him. "Call it off! Please call it off!" From the back of the bandit line, Gill watched the exchange for a moment, an amused grin slipping past his lips for a moment before turning his gaze to what few bandit crossbow men remained, slinking towards them with a predatory gait.