A slight warmth travelled through his hand but as the high wore off the pain returned with a vengeance. His shoulder felt like it was being crushed beneath a mill stone and his left ribs were throbbing like a blacksmith was beating on them.

Beorn groaned and spat out some of the blood in his mouth before pushing off the corpse and swaying to his feet. His arm jostled with another spike of pain reminding him of his dislocated shoulder. Trying to keep it as still as possible he jerked it back into place and nearly fainted from the pain. The piercing pain subsided to a dull throbbing as he looked around and retrieved his knives. As he bent to retrieve the last one, he heard a faint whistling noise, Beorn’s hair stood on end as he ducked. He felt a sudden punch to his right shoulder, risking a glance to the back he saw the feathered shaft of an arrow sticking out his armor while someone shouted in the distance, “He’s near the centre. Get him!”

Beorn cursed and glanced at his sword before turning around and scrabbling into the nearest intact house. An arrow thudded right next to his head just as he managed to duck into the crumbling hallway. He rolled into the second room and snapped off the arrow before sitting with his back to the wooden wall, his heart thudding in his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

‘Can you sense any essence?’, Beorn asked in Wilhelmina

‘There’s one near the entrance.’

‘Must be the archer.’

He heard the heavy thuds of footfalls as his pursuers reached the entrance. They paused at the entrance before stomping in

Beorn huddled into a shadow and tightened the grip on his dagger.

A hoarse voice sounded, “He’s injured, just go in.”

His partner replied, “He killed the boss…”

“Alright you coward, move aside we’ll go in together.”

Beorn readied himself as the footsteps grew closer and closer slowly. He squinted his eyes and as soon as the curved sword appeared gleaming in the slivered moonlight, he pounced, trapping the sword between their bodies and stabbed his neck.

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His companion froze for a moment before swinging his sword. Beorn didn’t bother dodging the blade as it caught on the frame of the doorway, he slid past the falling body and stabbed him through the gaps in his breastplate. He wiped the blade on his trouser and sheathed it. Looking at the dead bodies, he shook his head, now he had to deal with the archer.

If it was Beorn, he’d stay in place pinning him down while he waited for backup to come and clean up or just light the house on fire, he looked up at the state of the wooden rafters, it was just kindling at this point.

He tore some clothes to bind his left arm to his body and crept to the entrance. He peeked out only to be rewarded by an arrow thudding next to his face.

Still there. Well he's accurate enough.

Born started limbering up, his only chance was to find cover in the trees. He looked around for anything he could use as a shield, and all he found was a broken plank. He took it up and tied it onto his left arm.

He counted down under his breath

Born bolted out, keeping his head down and covering his head with the plank. Each step jolted his arm sending lightning bolts of pain through his shoulder, but he grit his teeth and squeezed out as much speed as he possibly could, running in an erratic pattern trying to throw off the archer's aim.

He was halfway to the cover of the trees when the first tore through the sorry excuse for a shield and punctured his upper arm. The head grated against his bone and Beorn blacked out for a moment, stumbling for a step. But he bit his tongue and bounced up to continue running for his life as arrows whizzed past.

Just as Beorn was about to leap into the forest, an arrow blazed a searing stripe of pain through his thigh. Shuddering from the pain he kept a tree between him and the arrows and looked down to see blood flowing from a gash from the tear in his trousers. Luckily it had just torn through the meat, his left arm on the other hand was completely out of commission.

‘Can you help me out with this?’

‘I already am, the pieces of your shoulder are being held together by, and the pain would have rendered you unconscious.’

“Huh.” Beorn grunted out and looked at the arrow again. He clutched at the shaft and spoke,

“Countdown to 3 for me.”

Wilhelmina sounded puzzled by the request but she complied, ‘Very well, 3.. 2..’

He snapped the shaft... a hiss of pain leaking out from between his clenched teeth before tossing it aside.

1..’

“Thanks”

Beorn ripped out a part of his trousers and wrapped it around the arrow-head embedded in his arm before gulping down a complete vial of potion and emptying a part of another on the gash in his thigh. With a groan he clutched at a nearby branch and pulled himself to his feet.

Beorn moved deeper into the forest, trying to get back to Tyvjyo and some real bandages before cutting out the arrow-head.

Fumbling along in the gloom of the forest, he started shivering and stumbled.

"Just a bit further…"

He saw the ground rush up to him and then darkness.