Melbrecht took him by the scuff of his robes with his good hand and drew him up to the air. “And- not- even- bloody- YOU!” He brought his head crashing down to Jaelen’s face as he said each word, punctuating every syllable with the clashing of his head against the monk’s.
Jaelen slumped to the ground, his nose broken and bleeding, grunting with the pain.
[...]
Sigurrós leapt from her bed and knelt down to put Jaelen’s head on her lap, making gestures in the air as she began to cast a spell.
“I didn’t mean to-“ Melbrecht began again.
“Save it, Grandmaster.” Sigurrós’ cold reply came, catching the Grandmaster off guard. “What has happened in the city so far?”
“T-the city is on the verge of open revolt, Lady. The Altostown and River Quarter are c-currently quiet, so is the Agathan, but the Spirit Quarter…“
“By Bright…” Sigurrós exclaimed as she finished casting her spell, leaving Jaelen unconscious as he began to heal.
The Siege Looms Heavy (Part One)