A young man would be near the back of the crowd as the precessions would be happening. He began making his way forward bottle of liquor in his hand as he held it under his cloak. But his breaths still smelt it, and the small dribble on his somewhat unshaven face would show it. He would be confused by the beginning of the demonic part of the precession, but it would not affect him until the light. The screaming and panic would allow the man to easily get to at least the middle of the room before it was clear. 

The blinding light would force him to raise his bottle to shield his eyes, but it would make it worse so he turned his head instead. 

"What in God's name is today?" he would ask as the light would dissipate to the groups of people still in the room. Why were there still people in here, and why were they fighting the demonic creatures, shouldn't he be fighting those creatures? Probably, but intoxication will hinder that for the moment. He stared at the group and would mosey over to the outer wall away from the group of combatants. He would find himself in the corner with his bottle looking at the crowd and the combat. 

A man wounded would eventually make his way to the drunken fool and collapse beside him, Leopold sat his hand upon the man's stomach and a light would shine from it, it would mend the wound for now, and stabilize the poor man beside him. Blood covered his hand, and he then wiped it on the man's clothes that poked out of his armor. "Stay with me, comrade, all will be alright."