[h2]Jerel Ban[/h2] Chaos unfurled, an unwelcome flower. Ter took off in a flutter of blue. The world lurched as William reared, but Jerel had stayed put to much worse before. Pulling on the reins, Jerel urged his horse to spin around; his eyes went immediately to search the scrub and bush that circled around behind them. His comrades could handle all else, he’d wager his life upon it. Like a heavy river stone, Jerel sank into the Stillness. Cold calm consumed him. The clamour and din of battle that fell over the forest seemed so distant. Breath, the in and out rhythm of life, slowed, under total control. Anger and fear slipped along the surface of the Stillness, but deep within Jerel was untouched. Emotions left him like water sinking into the earth. He was in control. Light cut everything into sharp focus, as though a million hues were suddenly revealed from their hiding places. Movement. The scamper of men covered in mud and earth and green, moving to flank the party from the rear. A hand came up, his own, and knocked an arrow. Tension. In and out. The arrow was loosed, and struck deep into the chest of an approaching man, the flame of his life extinguished. Another arrow was knocked and drawn before he even hit the ground. The rest gave up all pretence of sneaking and charged. Two men were running close together, so Jerel leant back in his saddle, tapping a rune on his bow with a thumb, finding the right angle to… fire! A silver-blue streak marred the air, and in the far distance a tree shed its bark in a small shower, an arrow embedded deeply within. The trail hung in the air for a moment - it had passed through the two men - then faded. They both stumbled forwards, bereft of life, the arrow having cleanly passed through their vitals. One man left, eyes wide, ten metres out. Fearful eyes, full of white, eyes like those of a deer dying in its own blood. Desperate, helpless. He turned to run, stumbling. To show mercy now would be folly. Jerel looked down the shaft of another arrow, ready. He let it fly. His mind, detached as it was, muttered a small prayer for all the poor souls here. They were only a handful of poor or cowardly decisions removed from the people the knights were sworn to protect. Pain. Deep, and burning. It reached down into the Stillness, and threatened to break it. The world shifted as the Stillness flexed. Jerel hit the ground hard. The air was driven from his lungs. The Stillness shattered. The world rushed back, slamming into Jerel’s mind, his ears, his body. He cried out. A spear was driven into his left shoulder, a bandit above him, fully utilising the leverage to keep Jerel pinned. Both the knight’s hands were clenched on the shaft, trying to push back, arms quivering, failing fast. He could not die here. Not like this. A flash of blue. A new cry of agony to mix with the medley of death and dying. Red spattered, mixing with Jerel’s blood on the leaf covered floor. The bandit dropped the spear, pressing both hands to his eyes. Ter cried out, circling about to strike the bandit again, gashing the side of his head and knocking the man to the floor. Jerel tugged the spear free and scrambled to his feet, drawing his sword. The bandit lay writhing and whimpering. Ter landed on a nearby tree, watching. Jerel raised his sword, then lowered it, and looked about. The battle was over. He orientated himself; the River Knight unmistakable, the large group of knights unmissable. To kill now would be butchery, worse than they had already committed. Jerel sheathed his blade, retrieved his bow, and whistled for William. He grabbed the bandit by the scruff of the neck and hauled him over in the direction of the Knight-Captain, ignoring his ravings. The smell hit Jerel sure as any fist - detritus mixed with blood and other bodily substances. It was all he could do to keep standing. The aftermath of the main battle was… Jerel was, for a brief moment, envious the bandit that he dragged behind had lost his vision. “Dame Eleanora,” Jerel said, “This one needs your arts, perhaps bind him before,” he shoved the bandit forward, and winced, hissing through gritted teeth and more blood pulsed from his shoulder. “As do I,” he added, “I was careless.” Jerel watched as Fanilly held the man at swordpoint, his expression unreadable as they rested on the young captain. His eyes flitted to each of his companions, eyebrows raised in unspoken question. “What now then?”