[@OtomostheCrazy]

Bartuc wandered through the village in silence, shaken by the harsh defeat but eager to return to combat. His sole purpose to the Order was a soldier, trained and eager to fight even after all these years. He had seen grotesque killings of every sort, delivered a couple personally, and pulled more than one man from the jaws of destruction. 
But still he wandered. Never content to sit.

More and more knights drudged in through the day, having escaped from the grim fate their friends had suffered, likely in the hopes of another chance. Bartuc seriously doubted any of these men would be staying much longer. 

His rambling thoughts ceased as he caught site of a familiar clothing, spilled in blood. "Kaathe." He called out to the dark elf, a good man in his own way, but more than a little jaded. "It is good to see you made it out, sir." Despite the armor, he bowed low to his superior. "Forgive my manners. Bartuc Crestfallen. Have you any word on future plans, or would you like an escort for the time being."