[u][b]Martin Hollowsland[/b][/u]

Battle. A brutal, unforgiving clash of will and skill. Martin by nature avoided conflict. It was terrifying being caught amidst the maelstrom of conflict that surrounded him, the various knights employing differing means of breaking their enemies both physically and mentally. The Iron Rose's tactic ultimately won them the battle as the enemy were now fleeing. Fleeing past him.

He hunkered low, praying hard that he wasn't seen by the many vicious mercenaries who were scattering past him. Heavy boots of heavily armed men stomped nearby. He couldn't see for his head was low, the bushes being the only thing in his sightline. He was neither brave nor fierce like the knights he had come to serve. He was a pitiful sight indeed. Luckily no one was able to see it, else he'd be caught by stray enemies and most likely killed. So he waited, biding his time until the foes were well and truly cleared from the battlefield.

_
With time he soon found an opportunity to peek his head from his hiding spot. Only corpses and the Iron Rose knights remained, along with the woman and that... [i]Thing[/i] that seemed to be wandering about, grasping for it's missing head from the looks of it. He really didn't know what to make of it, not without further inspection. His curiosity was far lesser than his discomfort with being near the strange thing.

Still, it had done an admirable service. Protecting the knights and dispersing the enemies, this headless knight was a big part of their victory here. He wasn't going to fault the other knight's efforts but this now headless swordsman sowed a great deal of discord and racked up a fairly large body count too.

He was conflicted. For his reticence towards the headless knight he still felt it would be wrong to slight it after all that it had done. It was far more than what he had done, hiding there whilst the battle ran to it's own conclusion. Had the knights lost or suffered it would of been his fault, at least in part. Doing something was better than doing nothing, however little it might be.

_
Stepping forth from the underbrush he tentatively approached the site where the headless knight's head laid, cautiously stepping around the dead bodies both to avoid unnecessary bloodstains upon his garb and out of his relative squeamishness. Gingerly he lifted the decapitated head from where it lay, turning to face the knight's body as it searched for what he held. He could feel his stomach in his throat as the fear seized him, this intimidating unnatural entity standing before him, no indication as to what it may do next.

Preemptively grimacing so tightly his eyes were shut he held the head out, offering it back to the knight it belonged to.

It wasn't much but at least he was doing something.

_
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