Myrist put his glaive through the heart of one goblin as it tried to untangle itself from its unconscious brethren. Then, with a twist of the weapon, he slit the unconscious oneâ€™s neck right down to the spine. That afforded him a seconds relief before he remembered a battle was still going on beyond his little corner of it. He quickly scanned his surroundings and didnâ€™t particularly like what he saw. He turned just in time to see Winwe take a spear to the leg. He was pretty far from the caravan, too.<span style="font-style: italic">Iâ€™ll never make it there in time. Iâ€™ll have to shoot.</span>he thought as he scooped his bow back up and notched an arrow, but his guard was right on top of the goblins and Myristâ€™s fingers felt slippery on the bowstring. â€œdamn blood.â€ he muttered aloud and lowered the bow long enough to wipe his fingers on his pants; then it was back up again and â€œDamn it damn it, get out of the way.â€<br/><br/>Thatâ€™s when Myrist heard the scream of someone a lot more panicked than the swordsman. He spun around again towards the direction of the sound. It was one of his drivers being trampled by his own horse. Myrist almost buried his face in the blood palms of his hands as he saw this, but there wasnâ€™t time for that kind of bemusement or destine, so he threw down the bow and rushed to save his inept driver, silently begging the guardsman for forgiveness.<br/><br/>By the time he had the pull-horse, and the driver, calmed down, the field was a lot quieter. Myrist wispered a quick reashurance that heâ€™d be right back to the panicked horse, stroked the length of its neck one more time, and stepped away to see what was happening. He was relieved to see that Winwe was alive, though one the ground. The other driver had managed to calm his horses, though not before one had broken the lead-bar from the wagon. A quick jog around the side of the wagon showed the young elf girl wounded on the ground and Boundary rushing over to help her. And after a moment, Taliha came out from behind the last wagon looking relatively unharmed; her leg was bloodied, but she didnâ€™t seem to have trouble walking. Her mouth was evidentaly in even better shape, as it started running the moment it was in view.<br/><br/>Myrist listened quietly only for the fact that he needed a few seconds to asses the situation. He already knew what to do with her; they would be having a little â€œchatâ€ latter. The world was full of big-headed guards and Myrist felt as if heâ€™d â€œtalkedâ€ to all of them. Twice over. As for the caravan in general? He started his yelling as soon as the she-ogre lumbered off towards her masked friend. â€œDonâ€™t you dare unhook those horses from your wagon.â€ he barked at the half-trampled driver. â€œSheâ€™s not the boss of you. I am! And I want that horse strapped in when I pull the bolts from its ass! Just go and find the dragon.<span style="font-style: italic">And donâ€™t let him near any of these horses!</span>And you,â€ he added in a less frustrated growl to the other driver, â€œyou get yours off the front of that wagon and tied to the back before they hurt their legs on that splintered lead-bar. Then repair the lead-barâ€ The caravan leader didnâ€™t wait to finish talking before walking to his carriage and grabbing bandages and water, then bringing them back to the horse he calmed earlier. It had taken the most bolts. The only other horse to be hit had taken a single crossbow bolt to the haunches. It hardly noticed. This one on the other hand took several to the rump and one to the shoulder. It would walk, but he would let anyone tie it to a wagon for a few days.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Taliha smirks, "Next time be quicker to punch and I won't have to do your job for you" she said to Myrist with some tease in her voice. She only acted because everyone else was either, swooning like immature lovers or just standing about. Guess she just had a faster reaction time from spending so much time in the mines. If you are slow down there you are usually dead.</span><br/><br/>Myrist ignored the jab as he tended the horsesâ€™ wounds. Luckily, goblins were small, and that meant their crossbows were, too. This horse would be pulling again in less than a week. The wagon would be down to two horses till then. He might have to move goods around or rotate horses, but it wouldnâ€™t cause too much trouble. Still, that thought shouldnâ€™t have invaded this valuable thinking time while everybody was doing something. The other half of what Taliha had said was more worrisome. Mostly because she had a point. Myrist never should have taken that elf on in the first place. He knew this road was dangerous; okay, maybe not as dangerous as it turned out to be, but there was a fairly good chance of trouble. She had just stumbled up, looking so ragged and pathetic, not knowing what to do or where to go. Myrist held no good feelings for elves, but it was such a sad sight that even<span style="font-style: italic">he</span>couldnâ€™t let it go.<br/><br/>Now, though. Now things were different. It was all too apparent now that trouble would be unavoidable. Her injured leg was evidence enough.<span style="font-style: italic">An injury that was my fault for bringing her.</span>Myrist sighed heavily. She was a liability now more than ever. So, after a while of grooming he looked up to the crowd and spoke. â€œWell, Ronin, our mutual employer gave me the option of relieving any guard of their contract if I thought it necessary. And the elf was never under contract at all. So Iâ€™ll leave it up to you, but Iâ€™ll say this,â€ he took on a sterner tone â€œshe should<span style="font-style: italic">not</span>continue. She, and maybe even you, will now be putting everyone in danger.â€ And with that, he sent one driver off to loot the bodies while he assisted the other in repairing the broken wagon.