Lokir waited to see what Cymbel's reaction would be to the situation; would be balk and force Lokir to help himself? Or would he take up that small spark Lokir had granted and make into a flame? So when Cymbel spoke Lokir stifled a grin, it was a slow start, but it was a good start, in Lokir's opinion. Go nonlethal first if possible, no need to take a life if possible, but the bandit wasn't having it. Lokir couldn't read minds, so he didn't know what was going through Cymbel's mind at the moment, but there was that pause before he spoke again, trying to use reason first.

That didn't work, however, as bandits weren't known to be into reasoning with anyone. The bandit spoke up, and Lokir watched as Cymbel's reddened a little bit, again Lokir waited to see what Cymbel would do. ~Come on, you can think of something.~ Lokir thought as he watched.

Sure enough, Cymbel did think of something! Lokir watched the beads come out and felt the bandits holding him tense up at the sudden action, and then more so when copies of Cymbel appeared around them Lokir grinned as the bandit started to become afraid. Lokir felt it in the man's body language, easily read since they were up against each other still, he was now on the defensive and probably hadn't thought about magic being used.

As the copies started to pray Lokir looked around as much as he was able to, while the bandit started to panic. Lokir turned his attention to the knife at his throat and as the bandit started to glanced around in his panic, the instant the blade was slightly moved away Lokir made his move. His hands came up in a practised motion and caught the man's wrist and twisted, Lokir avoided using any extra strength, forcing the man to drop the blade. With that done Lokir turned and struck the man hard enough to knock him cold but do no lasting damage, well, besides a nasty headache and bruise.

With a grin Lokir looked up to the copies and, using his heightened werebear senses, found the real Cymbel. With a smile Lokir walked over to him and, carefully, slapped him on the shoulder. ”Good job, got his attention long enough for him to panic and give that opening.” Lokir praised. ”Couldn't have done that without you.” Lokir added at the end. ”Now, how about we help the rest of the villagers out with the rest of the bandits? Could use more of your magic I think.” He left the how to the young man, allowing him to think on his own some more and on his feet.

When Lokir knocked the bandit unconscious he heaved a sigh of relief. Cymbel was glad that his attempt at a distraction was a success. He still had it in him after all. For a moment he was worried that his capabilities in disguise and illusion had failed him. Being praised was something he was gradually growing accustomed to. Although it had been years since he had left to live on his own, the past still lingered like a shadow trailing not far behind. Knowing he had helped make the situation better was a small comfort. With the effects of his mist wearing off the rest of the people, the fighting resumed. Nodding to Lokir, he turned his attention to the new battles beginning around them. With shield in hand, he sought out the wounded tribesmen and restored them back to full health. However his efforts did not go unnoticed by the invaders, and they soon set their sights on him.

Afraid of being cornered, he hastily cast a small spell and used it to trigger the special property that particular shield he had possessed. Shutting his eyes just before the magic hit the silver and black tourmaline, a blinding explosion of light sent all caught unaware in its blast staggering with hands clutching their faces. Quickly he moved on, before the bandits could recover and give chase. All the while he was a nervous wreck, but he wasn't succumbing to paralyzing fear. Whatever small assistance he could lend was given, and he was often pushed onto the defensive. One good turn led to another, and those he had healed were fit to fight often coming to his aid. Cymbel even had to use that shield of his to forcibly disarm a few attackers before putting them to sleep.

As time went on, Lokir's encouragement began to open up his thoughts. Employing his skill in illusion, he mimicked the appearance of the marauders to blend in and proceeded to knock them over the head once they were alone. Teleportation helped keep him out of their reach, but he kept his awareness high to ensure he would never find himself truly cornered. With the deity's efforts and the combined strength of everyone from the encampment, the bandits were beat back and several more were taken captive. Only a few managed to make off with a few mounts while escaping the Bohari's arrows and lances. Finally, peace returned. 

The fog and his efforts to reduce the casualties had helped. Only a few had passed away in defending the camp, and he began the next portion of his work in bringing them back to life. Each person revived took a great toll on him, and he had to ask the people to keep the fallen bodies from further damage. Any potions to renew his magic were quickly used up, but there were still more waiting to be returned to their families. Sitting inside a tent the Bohari had given him for treating the injured, Cymbel was struggling to keep his eyes open. Everything within him was exhausted, but that was the price one had to pay for returning others to life. 

The fight was back on and Lokir was doing his part, still unarmed he was proving himself a decent pugilist against armed attackers. It helped that his new God power that allowed him to learn on the fly any martial skilled used that he could see, he started to notice that they all at least in part learned the same techniques. So they had some kind of trainer among them, but they still for the most part had their own styles. That made it even easier for Lokir to move them quickly and disarm and then subdue them, he didn't want to kill what he didn't have to, he'd leave the justice part up to the villagers, justice wasn't his domain after all.

All the time however Lokir was keeping one eye on Cymbel, watching the young looking man as he fought and helped the villagers. He did well, in Lokir's eyes, using his illusion magic to confound the bandits by looking like one of them and then knock them out while they were distracted. In time the bandits were beaten back with some being taken captive, and peace started to return to the village. Casualties for the defenders were low, thankfully, once Lokir found out and helped get things back in order. But Cymbel continued to impress as he helped heal and even revive some fallen villagers, sadly some were beyond is help and would slip into the Soul Stream but such was the way of life.

He watched Cymbel get the tent and for Lokir stayed out and let him work, while at the same time one of the villagers figured out who he was and had one of the elders come to meet him. They spoke at length, thanking Lokir for his aid, but Lokir was sure to put more of thanks towards Cymbel, after all, the young man was healing and reviving as best he could. And if it wasn't for his sleeping fog, even if it wasn't meant to happen, the fighting could have been worse, at least some of bandits were restrained before they fully woke up.

Lokir was offered a bottle of booze to drink, something the locals made, and he happily took it and took a pull, and wow was it strong! But tasty, so he had some more. The bear god made his way over to Cymbel's tent and let himself in, seeing the young man barely able to keep his eyes open. Lokir grinned slightly, he had to hand it to Cymbel, he had a lot of heart. ”Good job today.” Lokir stated simply and held the bottle out in case Cymbel wanted to partake, still, Lokir placed a hand on his shoulder again. ”Damn good job, the villagers will thank you properly I think afterwards. You helped save a lot of lives today, friend.” As he spoke Lokir let trickle some of his magic into Cymbel, a little extra strength to keep him from falling asleep or passing out, at least for a little while longer. ”I never did catch your name, friend, in case you missed it I'm Lokir.” He introduced again with a grin.

A hand was on his shoulder, and he wearily looked up. It was the man from before, Lokir. "Good job today. Damn good job, the villagers will thank you properly I think afterwards. You helped save a lot of lives today, friend." Hearing that from someone like him made the healer smile. Knowing he was able to help eased the fatigue; at least his efforts had not been in vain, regardless of how small they might have been. "I'm glad…" 'I'm glad I could be of use', he nearly said. But Shiloh told him he shouldn't think like that anymore. And she was right–before he only had her, but now there were so many others who cared about him and his well-being.

Unaware of the deity's quiet assistance, he still couldn't believe how he had managed to do what he did. In response to being asked for his name, he responded. "I'm Cymbel. Thank you again, for helping me back there, Lokir. I truly cannot thank you enough." Seeing Lokir offer a flask, he declined politely with a tired smile. "No thank you, sir. It wouldn't be good for my constitution, I'm afraid." Though he was feeling somewhat better, the fatigue from reviving so many people was still lingering. He was wondering if he had enough in him to bring one more person back to life, but his legs were heavy like they were cast in iron. "Seems like that will be all I'm capable of doing for day." He let out a sigh. "If Walter were here, he might speak at length on serendipity."

Not able to move much with his body so tired, he turned to speak with Lokir. With things now calmed down and the initial unfamiliarity of meeting a stranger over, the fey proved to be quite affable when not suffering fits of panic. "Pardon me for asking, but will you be staying here long?" Cymbel himself had mentioned waiting for Walter to come back through the Corval Basin before leaving the plains together, and he had hardly asked anything about the warrior.  

”You are most welcome.” Lokir replied with a grin, offering the then declined flask with a slight nod of understanding towards Cymbel. The healer mentioned that this was all he was able to do and Lokir smiled slightly. ”You have done your best, more so than that I believe, Cymbel. You have done very well, you deserve the rest.” Lokir spoke calmly as he took another drink, oh this stuff was good!

After a moment Cymbel asked a question of Lokir and the knight nodded. ”For a bit, yes. I was on my way here to speak with the local leader to strike up a deal. I have recently made a new, uh, home in the Plains,” Lokir didn't want to give away who he was right now, he felt that it might undermine of the progress that Cymbel had made with his confidence if he realized that a God had been helping him the whole time. ”and I wanted the Tribes out here to know that we are no threat. I'm a knight, so we have a large group of us out here training and such. We don't want the tribes to think us stealing their game, we'll only take what we need when we need it, and will trade with them if they are willing to do so. In exchange, they will feed us information and rumours that they may hear and we'll help defend their camps if needed from attack. I figured we should extend this idea now while we're still new out here before they start to get the wrong idea.” Lokir explained, of course, about the only new structure that had gone up in the Plains lately was the Fort itself, but it was still fairly new, so maybe Cymbel hadn't heard of it? He'd have to see.

A snort from the door caught Lokir's attention and he stood while taking another drink and opened the door and his mare poked her head in, still covered in full armour. ”Ah, good, you stayed safe.” Lokir grinned and patted her nose as she stepped back outside again to graze in the shade until it was time to leave. ”Really should pick a name for her.” Lokir sighed to himself with a slight shrug and turned back to Cymbel. ”If I'm keeping you from rest, do tell, I don't want to interrupt it.”

But as Lokir finished a local poked his head looking for the God. ”Ah, my Lord, the Elder is ready for you if you are ready?”

Lokir smiled and nodded. ”I'll be there in a moment, thank you.” Lokir looked back to Cymbel with a slight grin and a shrug. ”Well, that answers that. It was a pleasure to meet you, Cymbel, take care of yourself, you're capable of more than you know.” He had that same grin and winked as he left Cymbel to go meet the Elder as was planned from the start, knowing that he would put in some good words for Cymbel at the same time.