The crossbow bolt hurt, but it was bearable. The sword stung, but it was bearable. The tiny needle? Leifr was amazed he was still sitting up. Pulling the slightly torn cloth from his mouth, he nodded in appreciation – with the slightest hint of resentment for the treatment – and breathed out a quiet “thank you, milady” between pants. With a few deep breathes he regained a bit of his composure and was about to answer the bandit's plea before the unknown woman (after a rather chilling statement) answered for them.
She was cold and intimidating, but that is one way to get information and most of the others seemed preoccupied. Forcing himself to stand up, thankful that the once blazing pain had subsided into an dull, almost ringing sensation. His warhorse snorted heavily and shook its head as if to shake away its own pain, but it stayed in its position as both it and its rider seemed safe for now. Leifr flinched a little when he heard Lyrisa's age, and nervously chuckled when his idea of treating a little girl as an adult seemed to have prevented him from getting on her bad side. Seventeen, huh? Well, with her knowledge, it probably wasn't a lie.
Leifr decided that he would do the unkind job of disarming and scavenging from the other unconscious bandits. As he approached the axe-wielding bandit, Leifr noted the man's main axe a good distance away and then kicked his secondary axe away from the bandit. With a deep breath and furrowed brow, he slowly pulled his shield from his arm, pulled the strap over his head, and let the shield come to a rest on his back. With a sigh of relief that the ordeal of testing his stitches' bindings has ended, Leifr crouched down and searched his body as well as checked his pulse to make sure he was still alive.