The pain tortured Ryden so much that, for an extended period of time, all he could focus on was nothing but his physical misery. He managed, with painstaking effort, to pull the dairy concoction out of his satchel and put the lip unto his, but it did nothing to soothe his pain or heal his main injury, for the damage was far too great. He dropped the bottle feebly and slowly began to pass out as a wave of drowsiness took over. He was shaken awake, however, by a man who ran to his side and started muttering about not being able to do a whole lot for his broken ribs. He almost yelled in agony, but down hard on his lip, causing the skin to break and bleed, as he felt the magic move his tattered bones about his body. The dark, titanic monster let out an earth shattering shock wave, so he braced himself for the extinguishing of his life and conscience as he knew it. Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted up, unfortunately sending jolts of pain all throughout his midsection, but thankfully out of the way of the enemy's attack. He saw the blast of dark energy whiz by, too close for comfort, as they ran through the doors of the church. He felt himself being sat down rather roughly, causing him to groan and wheeze as the force moved about his very sore spot. He was very tempted to fall flat on his back and pass out then, not caring for life or death at that moment, when he heard absurd, religious, Elvish mutterings coming from the man who saved him. He shot himself awake, glared at the person before him, undoubtedly of the race that persecuted him for his own differences, bared his sharp canines and hissed. "You're an ELF!" He exclaimed with both genuine surprise and a furiously embarrassed tone. [i]Saved by one of those pompous, incorrigible snobs... What luck do I have,[i] he thought sarcastically to himself as he rolled his eyes, and although he wanted to scramble away from the presence of this abhorred being, he could not. Still, it could not hurt to be slightly grateful, right? 

He took a deep breath and steadied himself, letting his hot blood settle down, and with surmounting hesitance, muttered his gratitude. "Thanks.. I guess I...." He spat on the ground and his face contorted into a heavy, distasteful frown. "I owe you one," Ryden finally said as he sucked in his pride and breath. He looked around warily, as he felt a strong force shield them from the dark magics of the Sacrificial Spirit, and charged his gauntlets with a bit of magic power, just in case. The slits of his scarlet red eyes slithered thin as his keen senses heightened. "Don't let your guard down. We never know if more of those crazies are still around.."