Tommel only saw a flash of blonde before the wind left his lungs, his body barreling head-first into the grass under the weight of what felt like a rock. Three squeals cut out from behind him, and he was shoved yet again down the hillside.
Where his body had been, an arrow pierced into the dirt with a twang. It burst into flames.
"Run!"
Tommel gasped for breath, unable to push himself upright. His head spinning, he could only watch as the blonde stranger ripped the arrow from the ground and leapt onto an orange brute, twisting and flailing in a massively imbalanced wrestling match. Two pale hands ran the arrow through the creature's left eye, and an ear-splitting scream escaped its mouth.
Three stable-men with spears and shields appeared from around the hill, and the momentary distraction was all the brute needed to cut its hand into the stranger's throat and slam him into the rocky cliff-side.
He cried out, blood running into his tunic, inching backwards in the dirt as the brutes loomed over him. He was nearly on top of Tommel now. "I told you to run," he snarled, anger laced with desperation, but Tommel couldn't move under the weight of him.
"I'm trying—" he wanted to reply, but a weight crushed into him, and he saw black.