[center][h3][color=8493ca]Hector Wyland[/color][/h3][/center]
[@Polaris North], [@PaulHaynek], [@AzureKnight]
[hr]

Just when Hector was getting proud of his newly upgraded rifle, death was staring him in the face. Even so, he wouldn't abandon Einer, ready to pull out every trick he had to try and keep their attackers at bay until their fellow Magi could help them...that was the plan anyways, until he was decked squarely in the jaw, sending his brain reeling. Hector's vision blurred a bit as his brain rattled against his skull, his eye squeezing shut as his senses slowly caught up to the pummeling he was receiving. Blow after blow against his face, the distinct feeling, smell, and taste of copper letting him know he probably just got his nose broken. Not one to take it lying down, Hector was [i]absolutely, most definitely, not defending himself in hindsight[/i], about to sock him into next week before a burst of light and a flash of steel signaled a turning of the tides.

Imre had emerged adorned in an armored dress and swiftly cut down the man atop Hector, the marksman staring in awe as he sat up, blood flowing from his nose as he stared, mouth agape at his savior. Hector was already certain that Imre was quite the beautiful lady but..somehow, amidst her stunning victory and her shining armored dress, Hector could have sworn that he'd died then and there, and that an angel had arrived to take him. His heart was racing, and he couldn't take his eyes off of Imre as she spoke to Ruecian. So lost was he in his delusional infatuation that Hector would need to get spooked by Herne hissing to remember that he was still bleeding with a broken nose. Einer had been scooped up and everyone was getting into the carriage once more, and Hector wasted no time grabbing his rifle and scurrying after, with Herne crawling up his leg as he sat down.

In lieu of not having a mirror to help, Hector would have to instead rely on some basic first aid and his trusty snake companion. 

[color=8493ca][b]"So...how bad is it, Herne?"[/b][/color]

[i]"*Hiss."[/i]

[color=8493ca][b]"...I assume that means it could be worse. Alright. Point your head in the direction I need to move it back to,"[/b][/color] Hector said, biting down on his wadded up shirt to keep from screaming, which...he likely would have, given the somewhat disgusting crack that his nose made. But, it was at least back to its usual angle, and the panting marksman would begin to mend the internal damage with his thaumaturgy. Sadly, he wasn't quite strong enough to mend bones yet, and the last thing he wanted was for his healing to start and bend his nose permanently. Plus...Hector already felt ashamed of having the person they were escorting swoop in to save him. He wouldn't bring himself to ask her to heal his injury for him.

Occasionally, he would steal glances at Imre and Einer, silently cursing his own lack of ability. He'd never had a hand for magic as a boy, so his father decided it was a waste of time for him to try. It wasn't until the disastrous end of Hector's fledgling military career that he'd even begin to learn magic, and...it was painfully clear, while his tricks worked well enough when he had the advantage, nothing he had was good enough to help Einer, or himself, and in all likelihood...he might not have been able to fight off his attacker had she not stepped in. 

Hubris was a funny thing, that made you soar near the sun, then plummet rapidly when you remembered your wings were wax. Hector was certain the bandits would just go running once they saw his firepower, not thinking past each shot. That's why Einer got hurt...an enemy with a gun was best fought with a gun in turn. Hector wouldn't be damaged enough to need an infirmary, and as such would stay with Imre while Herne idly coiled around his arm. Finding the nerve to speak after his embarassing display, Hector would say: [color=8493ca][b]"...Thank you, Lady Imre, for coming to my rescue. ...I got careless. I'll have to re-evaluate my training once I return to the tower."[/b][/color] The marksman seemed to consider what to say next carefully, deciding to make small talk. [color=8493ca][b]"If you don't mind me asking, do you know who those brigands were, Ruecian? They seemed rather...well-armed, and single-minded in going after the carriage. Normally, bandits would know when to cut their losses, but they fought to the last man."[/b][/color]