"It's alright. You're safe now." the guard with the scimitar had smiled while the Succubus was still concious. There was a kind of alien prettyness about the Demon, something that just compelled him to help her. Doubtlessly, she would look beautiful when she was patched up.
In that moment, he made a vow. Whilst he was around, no further harm would come to this demon.
He felt her grip weaken. He saw her eyes shut and felt her breathing shallowing. She was dying.
"Nonononono!" he gasped, lightly smacking her face to wake her up. "Stay awake, damnit. Stay strong."
Everyone else, as far as he could see, was dealing with the Big Fomorii at the other end of the boat. He was truely on his own.
"Balor's eye!" he cursed, gently lifting the incapacitated Succubus, one hand supporting her head, the other supporting her legs. He moved as quick as he comfortably could, trying to exit the boat to get back to Niraph. There were doctors there who could save her - he could do no more with out the proper equipment. Thankfully, the village was quite close to the crashed boat. As long as nothing happened, he could get there within a minute or two.

The girl with the Imp supported him as he tried to walk, reaching out when it looked like he was going to fall over. As he got closer, an injury on his thigh became all too clear. It was nasty, preventing the poor thing from walking normally. Hopefully, there was nothing that serious about it, or any other wound that he would have sustained.
"Ok, little guy, you can relax. We'll get you to a doctor and you'll be fixed up in no time"
It never occured to the guard that the imp was older than he looked, or that he might not understand her language. Rather, she took the dwarvish demon by the hand and began to lead him off the boat.

The captain was suprised at how simple it was to get the Fomorii to put his weapon down. Usually, negotiations take much more effort and time, but this one seemed... almost resigned to his fate.
The meaning of the beasts words was lost on the soldiers, but his tone was clear - he had given up.
"Fight" the captain said, making swordplay gestures. "Are you hurt?" he grimaced and pretended to hold a wound, his tone one of sympathetic questioning.