Maxim blinked. The routing of the wild-men had been simple enough, but this . . . the dark elf seemed almost aggrieved by the local girl's injury. Perhaps he'd misjudged her . . . ? And then the priest was there, working whatever magics he could summon. Maxim felt somewhat awkward, as there was nothing more that he could do for any of them. Reloading and priming his pistol, he left it uncocked, and tucked it back into his holster as he bent, and wiped his sabre off on the loincloth of the wild-man he'd shot. He'd have to properly clean and oil the blade later, but that could wait.<br/><br/>Presently, he stood behind the trio, making himself useful by standing guard against any other potential interlopers. There didn't seem to be an awful lot more that he was particularly useful for, and he found that thought mildly nagging.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>