[center][img]http://orig15.deviantart.net/2fa9/f/2016/187/8/b/thedoc_by_zelosse-da8xqso.png[/img][/center]
[center][h1]"[color=00a651]Teller[/color]"[/h1]
Anton Duboi[/center]

Anton ran into the camp on the heels of the knights and aided their forceful push into the center of the camp. Those that were struck with an arrow or crossbow were quickly hauled aside, the projectiles yanked from their wounds, and a bit of healing salve was applied via syringe. Small wounds healed with little effort and saved valuable time. No sooner had one man been aided than seemingly another fell to the ground. But his place was to aid the fallen and aid them he did. The push was solid and the momentum seemingly unstoppable until the group had hit the 'king' chair. Anton had stayed behind momentarily to give what aid he could, trusting the group to handle one man and whatever resistance still stood in the orders way.

Teller gave a knight who had taken a bad cut to the chest a sedative and deftly sewed the wound shut amidst the chaos, his hands slippery with blood but more than capable of finishing the task one stitch at a time. Satisfied, another soldier helped the wounded to escape the confines of the seemingly burning bandit base. It was only when Teller got to the front lines of the fight that he realized something was amiss. 
An armored knight in solid plate had been cleaved in half like paper in front of the captain. The beast of a king, Jeremiah, unphased by the numbers against him. A cold shudder spread down the doctors spine but he stubbornly refused to let it go. He was needed.

Anton rushed up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him to get a better vantage. The beastly man, Sir Garett, was trying to force the behemoth of an opponent back while another fighter extracted Fanilly. There wasn't much time and Teller was running out of options. Adrenaline would keep Garett in the fight for so long and there was no time to administer any kind of aid. The doctors sword and likely his spine would be cleaved well in half if he got close.
Last ditch effort. 
Anton reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarrel with the numbing solution and loaded it into his hand crossbow. It was a risk, but it was one he needed to take for the good of the order. Those who felt no pain fought on well after their bodies could not continue. Teller aimed his crossbow and fired, the bolt sailing true and straight to collide with the back of his arm in a shallow hit. The crossbow was not effective at piercing, even at close distance, but at this point it just needed to apply its package. If Garett survived and remembered, Teller would apologize to him. 

With a bit of luck, and the luck of the gods, the barbarian would only notice his fury and focus beyond his pain. The numbness of the sedation would not slow him down or cause a drowsy effect, as his toxin would.