[h2][color=lightblue]Rolan[/color][/h2]

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[color=lightblue]"What, no eleventh hour desperate gambits? I expected another one at the current rate of things."[/color] Rolan had a neutral tone, quietly grateful that the Houndmaster had elected to finally run out of hounds to consume and collapse from the sheer focus of violent attention it was getting. Still, the hedge knight reloaded and kept a steady hand and eye on the battlefield, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Was it paranoid to expect something more to come barreling out of the woods, what with Rozenalt dead and the various champions bested or dead? Certainly, but paranoia wasn't exactly unhealthy when dealing with unnatural forces in the world, so while he didn't show any overt shock as the carcass of the Houndmaster began laughing, he did snap his crossbow to take aim in case it did anything more. He wasn't going to even try and guess as to its laughter, applauding, and eventual collapse. One of the more socially gifted could puzzle that one out, and another sweep showed any remaining members of the Hunt that were not already dead surrendering and departing. Well, that was one for the legends, the Hunt bested by the Iron Roses, and he even got a front row seat and at least a little bit of involvement.

[color=lightblue]"Seems like even the best of regenerations couldn't stand up to a fraction of your efforts, Gertrude, well done."[/color] A token gesture, but Rolan had gathered the easiest way to keep goading her into being useful was to at least play along with the praise. A few kind words could be spared if it meant keeping her from being quite as much of an overt nuisance as she could be, at least while he was working with her. How the others chose to handle cooperation was strictly up to them, though he cast an eye not on the Captain and the other knights of her immediate retinue, but on the others who had accompanied them and aided in providing the numbers and flank coverage to allow each of them to act at what they did best. Though immediate names escaped him, he still had much of his more curative supplies intact and could get most of any injured back into a walking state to seek out healers proper, and not overtax their limited supply of the magically inclined, doubly so after sufficient strain of a combat encounter with such a dangerous foe.

[color=lightblue]"If you would, please drop me off with the knights over there, the largest number who held the flanks. I'm not much of one for celebrating necessary victories and need to see to the injured, get them walking again at least."[/color] That would also leave discussion with the helping Nithyr to one of the others, which suited him even more, he supported the discussions and negotiations when able, but was far from a diplomatic soul, and saw it better to leave that to those more experienced with Fae dealings. Or partners with one, in a particular case, but he didn't judge when it came to who one chose to spend their time with. Once back on the ground, Rolan would begin looking for those he could aid the most, putting the more natural and curative nature of his alchemical skillset to use. Staunching bleeding, treating wounds, getting any injured into a walking state, now that the fight was done, without further orders Rolan focused on keeping himself busy in a way he knew how, that would at least be helpful.