Torben had picked up the half axe and dispatched the remaining two injured bandits with brutal efficiency. It hadn't escaped his notice the towering knight, who had just tried to slay his companion, and who was currently looking at the tired and spent Elias. Torben focused on his breathing, finding it in short, ragged gasps. He was bloodied, exhausted, and had no hope of taking the knight on. "You have only prolonged the inevitable sorcerer" the knight, his voice raspy and full of malice. "Come down here and face me!" he said, pointing at him with a gloved hand.

"You can leave alive" Torben said, gripping tightly onto the half axe. This got the knight's attention, who spun around and surveyed the carnage.

"These were good men, and you fight well for a man who wants no part of this" he says using his longsword to gesture towards him.

"You know nothing about me" Torben said shakily.

"You are Torben Brookes! And whoever wants you dead is paying me a good amount for your head" the knight said, gripping tightly onto his sword. "Now enough talk little man, time to see if you can use that axe" and with that the knight launched forward, slicing diagonally. Torben rolled in the other direction and slashed out with the half axe, which bounced off his armoured legs. The knight spun around, using his armoured fist to swipe at Torben. The blow handed, almost knocking Torben to his knees. Acting on instinct he swung wildly; the blow being knocked away before the butt of the longsword was planted into his gut. At that moment all thoughts turned to his lands, his people. They were all in jeopardy due to a run-in with bandits. Despite the injustice, he couldn't stop the knight as he sent an uppercut to his jaw, his eyes blurring as he was lifted off his feet.

Elias jumped from the cart when his companion fell to the ground unconscious, the knight laughing as he turned his attention to the sorcerer. "So, you decided to join us" he mocked, flicking droplets of blood from his gauntlet. Elias, fuelled by adrenaline and survival instinct cast an orb of golden light around himself which faded, and charged a firebolt which he shot at the knight. He shot a gauntlet to cover his face, an orb of his own blocking the worst of the fire. With a grunt he shook some of the flames away, his hands gripping tightly onto the sword as he advanced. Elias knew he had only one chance of winning this battle, so instead of retreating he advanced on the knight, dagger drawn and a spell charging in the other. With a great swing, the knight went for the sorcerer's head, and with a flash of golden light, the blade was knocked out of his hands. Seizing on this, Elias targeted a chink in the knight's armour, a gap near the stomach. The blade sunk in and the knight howled in agony, and the other hand pressed against another exposed area. Flames engulfed the knight as he trashed violently away, a glancing blow knocking the frail Elias down.

The knight clawed at the armour on his chest, too late as the flesh fused to the armour. Pain racked his body as he ran to a small pool of water near the cart. Temporary relief washed over him as the fires were stopped, soon replaced with pain on a scale he was not used to. For the first time in a long time, fear filled his heart, almost taking over the anger he held onto. But he would not fail, too much was riding on his success. He would kill them all. With an effort he stood up, water pouring from his armour as he returned to finish the job. He would not be slain by a bunch of conscripts! Each step hurt as his nerves were fusing to the armour itself, but he persisted, past the unconscious Torben to Elias, who was cradling the side of his head, looking at something in the cart. The knight was almost curious to see what it was, but that would wait. A look of shock was on the weary man's face, as the knight bent down and picked the sorcerer up by the neck.

Elias looked at the cart, allowing himself some relief to flow over him as he knew what he carried was safe. Somehow his plan had worked, with the knight dropping into a pool of water likely dead by now. With his vision blurred by being fatigued, both physically and mentally. He sat there for what seemed an age, never taking his eyes from what he had. What he would set right. He was only aware of the knight when the singed gauntlet wrapped around his throat. With an unnatural strength, he was hoisted into the air until he was face-to-face with the knight. The smell of burnt flesh and hair filled his nostrils with what breath he could take, his windpipe under immense strain. It took all his strength to try and pry the fingers away, but it was futile.

"You put up a good fight Elias. I shall grant you a quick death" the knight rasped. Elias tried to plead, tried to ask why this was happening. But no answer came. Slowly he felt the pressure on his windpipe increase until at last relief came to him.