Rolan didn't waste either his breath or the daemon's attention on vocalizing just how much he did not appreciate the situation he found himself in. Was it advantageous for the others to be able to focus on advancing up the hill? Yes. Would it force the mage to spread her attention out more across the rest of the knights? Certainly. Was it going to get him slaughtered in a fight that he was sorely unprepared for? Very likely. In the moments of the daemon crushing the fired bolt in her hand, the hedge knight slung his crossbow and drew the hunting knife he always carried. Not that it was going to deflect anything, let alone block, as laughable as that consideration would be, but Rolan did have one thing going for him. He was fast enough on his feet that he could, in the moments the weapons remained formed, deflect himself away from the attacks. He was trying to draw her as far away as possible despite the teleportation showing that to be less than relevant. His mind was racing through the tools he had on hand, most of which did not fit here.
Most of his prepared alchemical compounds had been tailored almost exclusively towards the impending Dragon encounter, and Rolan wasn't going to entertain a flask of alchemist fire doing more than getting him burned alive by the daemoness just grappling him once doused. Even the reagents and components he had decided to pack were almost useless on their own, but one came to mind as he felt several hairs get clipped off his head from the backswing of an axe larger than he was. Aqua Regia, he had packed a vial mostly because the compound fascinated him, its interaction with various metals something he wanted to experiment with when he had the time, and part of him had assumed there would have been travel and more time between contests. Hand darting under his cloak, every attack driving ever closer to his luck finally running dry, hell odds were good the knife wasn't going to take much more of this and it wasn't even taking much more than glancing force from being used to guide his own evasions.
Rolan waited for an opportunity, gritting his teeth as death kept creeping closer, using the cloak to conceal what he was up to while trying to obfuscate his form at least a little, to buy him a few more seconds. Panicking now and just throwing it wouldn't help, he had to try and wait for the right moment to go for her eyes. If it had the effect he was hoping it would, she would not be able to visually track him long enough to get some space and try to employ what he was actually good at, putting a bolt somewhere where it would hurt. Rolan would thrust the vial towards the daemoness when the best chance he could spot arose, uncorking the vial as part of the motion and aiming to get as much of the mixture in her eyes specifically as possible. If he were a faithful man he would probably offer a prayer up at this point, but it would ring kind of hollow for him to suddenly start doing so now. Hoping to at least get something out of his last ditch effort would have to suffice.
Most of his prepared alchemical compounds had been tailored almost exclusively towards the impending Dragon encounter, and Rolan wasn't going to entertain a flask of alchemist fire doing more than getting him burned alive by the daemoness just grappling him once doused. Even the reagents and components he had decided to pack were almost useless on their own, but one came to mind as he felt several hairs get clipped off his head from the backswing of an axe larger than he was. Aqua Regia, he had packed a vial mostly because the compound fascinated him, its interaction with various metals something he wanted to experiment with when he had the time, and part of him had assumed there would have been travel and more time between contests. Hand darting under his cloak, every attack driving ever closer to his luck finally running dry, hell odds were good the knife wasn't going to take much more of this and it wasn't even taking much more than glancing force from being used to guide his own evasions.
Rolan waited for an opportunity, gritting his teeth as death kept creeping closer, using the cloak to conceal what he was up to while trying to obfuscate his form at least a little, to buy him a few more seconds. Panicking now and just throwing it wouldn't help, he had to try and wait for the right moment to go for her eyes. If it had the effect he was hoping it would, she would not be able to visually track him long enough to get some space and try to employ what he was actually good at, putting a bolt somewhere where it would hurt. Rolan would thrust the vial towards the daemoness when the best chance he could spot arose, uncorking the vial as part of the motion and aiming to get as much of the mixture in her eyes specifically as possible. If he were a faithful man he would probably offer a prayer up at this point, but it would ring kind of hollow for him to suddenly start doing so now. Hoping to at least get something out of his last ditch effort would have to suffice.