Leon
Marsila was currently in too much pain to register what was happening around her. All she could focus on was the arrows that had lodged themselves in her body, making it impossible for her to move without the arrow causing further harm. How had she gotten herself into this situation? All she had wanted was to retrieve her locket that had been stolen and now they were being hunted down by multiple men. It seemed more than unfair in her opinion. 

Eventually she began to grow nauseous, blaming it on the pain throughout her body. It didn't help that all she could see was red, in a literal sense. Within the next second, she could smell the upchuck of the men who still had a beating heart but soon forgot about it as she cried out from being moved. 

Her body hurt, and badly. She had never felt this type of pain in her whole life, shot by multiple silver arrows. One she could barely handle but three? It made things a lot more difficult for Marsila. 

Small whimpers could be heard from her as she was dragged from the danger they had been placed in. She hoped Rekkan was alright and wondered if more mercenaries had filled the town they occupied. They shouldn't have risked stopping to rest and heal, they should have placed both Rekkan and Bran in the wagon once they were stitched up and safe from infection. If only she could reach out to him. 

"We need to find Rekkan." She breathed out quickly, holding her breath almost in hope it would make her situation less painful though that was unlikely to happen.
Daniel
Eotum looked at Marsila's current state, doing a quick assessment over her body. He took into account the two crossbow bolts buried into her leg, also remembering that the silver was giving an intense burning sensation due to its magical purification properties.

Eotum's first instinct was to immediately extract the projectiles, the only problem being that if he pulled out them out now he would have to tend to the wounds whilst still being chased by the men. While his little potion may have caused the men severe nausea, there was no telling if one or two would bear it and they would seek them out, and Eotum going against an armed soldier with Marsila as a sitting duck would not be an ideal situation.

But they were severely weakened now. Eotum had this chance. 

"We will find Rekkan. But not like this." The scholar said after a moment of deliberation. "I will be right back. I need to handle the men first before they find us. Be right back."

If Marsila had any objections, they were promptly ignored as Eotum returned to where the men were. Where was she going to go in that state anyway?

Loading a bolt into the carved slit of the crossbow, Eotum held several other bolts with the hand he used to support his weapon. He crouched and crept over to the back of a bush so as not to make a sound. The potion he had was meant to deliver disorienting nausea, but only in one big burst. The men had started to recover and look around, so he acted quickly.

Observing the men, she decided to shoot first the ones who had their crossbows on hand. Not to mention they had fired their bolts at Marsila, and they were still feeling a bit too sick which would inhibit their eye and hand coordination if they tried to reload a bolt. 

He quickly leaned out from the bush, fired a bolt at one of them and leaned back into the bush. He heard a heavy *Thunk* As it lodged itself into his target's head, joining the two dead soldiers lying on the floor.
David
The second group that entered the forested hill overlooking the village from the north was more cautious than the last. They formed a tighter line and crept forward, keeping a compact surveillance over their surroundings. They looked left and they looked right, back over their shoulders and forward to the trails that stretched in twists and turns of uprooted flora.

But they made a mistake as well, natural of men that were paid to hunt people and not track wild animals. They entered the hunting grounds of a newly arrived fiend without heed to the marks scattered on trees and bush alike.

Rekkan appeared before them, several feet away and past the first area he looked out at the village from when they were gathering the two groups. He had a surprise stored for the men that had their attention drawn to him. They didn't rush, but they did quicken their pace, falling for the cooking ember's trap. It glowed before it shattered into a powerful flash of light. Incandescent white blinded them momentarily, burning their eyes and making them apply evasive tactics. One rolled to the left, another took stumbling steps back. They mixed and broke formation for the fiend to take advantage of, glaring down with zigzagged reds centered on the crossbowman to the far right.

Its black furred form was atop a thick branch of oak. Rusted and rustling chain slowly rolled out of its body's twisted sides and surely draped around the shoulders and wrapped the neck of the man. He shouted for the others, but his voice was tamed and made coarse with a tug and a snap, making his body dangle as feet and hands convulsed to the feeling of ancient metal squeezing his throat. His eyes bulged and teared as life was fleeting. Also the others could listen to were the gravel cries of the man before the snap of a maw and shatter of skull bone was heard. Then there was an eery silence.

At that point, the men could already see. They looked forward but Rekkan was no longer there. They looked to the right and found the headless corpse of their companion falling from the tree. The chains were there, but where was the culprit? They just hung from the branch, ominous and daunting. The sensation of fear was instilled in their hearts. The hunt was turning inside out, the hunter becoming the hunted.