Aaron
Vaughn, Harronheart Village Streets

Vaughn fought long and hard in the face of battle as he swung his double edged blade from left to right. A sense of unwavering tenacity came over him as he desperately wanted to save the village people. To his surprise however, a bandit would charge him as the man came charging down toward him with a spear. Luckily for Vaughn, he quickly leapt to the side before swinging his sword toward the man's chainmail armor. As it landed a small sleek sound was heard as the man fell back onto his back. Red crimson droplets made there way from the wound as Vaughn dug his blade into the man's chest. As he removed the blade his sword, stained with blood shimmered from the daylight. He would continue to push through with his small group as a fierce look crossed his face. He kept his ground as he did not shy away from a fight worth fighting. In his left hand, his shield rose as he noticed the archer from afar aiming to take him out. As the arrow landed, hitting the shield he was shifted back a bit before making a charge for the archer. With a hard grip his hand held the double edged blade.
As the archer continued to fire he kept the shield raised until ramming into the bandit. The bandit was taken off of his feet before ramming into a wall. Before the archer knew it, a sharp, iron short sword was stabbed into him by Vaughn. As Vaughn heard the man's last dying breaths he would mumble "Peace be with you", before turning back into the raging battle.
Dianne
**Harronheart Village**

Despite being outnumbered, the men of the Ibbish army began to gain the upper hand, the attacks of the bandits were ever weaker, and the iron wrought discipline of the soldiers was more than enough to outmatch the unruly mob of reavers. The lordsblood reavers of the sable brotherhood were individually skilled, but fought without order or cohesion. Soon, they began to flee, in spite of Randholm's commands.

The bandits began to find themselves short on men, many of them had abandoned the fight and didn't return. They could be preparing an ambush, but if they were doing so, then they were tactiacally incompetent: there would get no other chance to crush the garrison after this fight.

"Rout the bastards!" Shouted Horace. He killed methodically and mercilessly, carving a path trough the retreating ennemy formation.
It was at this moment that Randholm fled the battle. He abandoned his minions and jumped on a horse to attempt an escape, but Hubert pulled a lance from a corpse and threw it at the young reaver, impaling him before he could kick his horse.
After that the battle was won, the remaining bandits and lorsblood punks turned tail and tried to escape any way they could, but many got killed in their retreat.

Eventually, only the bodies of nineteen bandits and eight of the sable kids remained. It had cost the garrison the lives of four of their men.
Ralph
Seeing the bandits along its allies flees, Bryan returned his longsword back into its place easefully as he should be. He opened the visor of his helmet, filled with blood splattering on the side of it. And eventually, he took off his helmet shortly after. "Set up a camp nearby," He said, looking over at one of the soldiers at his side. "We gotta tend to the wounded, help those who still can be saved." He stated, before looking back at the elderly knight with a concern look.

"We should head back to the castle, we leave a few of us at here to kept a lookout for the village. We need to gather the others over here and some supplies as well." He suggested.