Darion and Garren were in the middle of a conversation when the doors opened.
Darion heard them before he saw who it was. He turned in his chair.
Three knights came through the door and two of them didn't make it past the entrance before their legs gave out.
The third managed four more steps and went down on one knee, catching himself on the floor with one hand, head hanging.
They were in their undergarments.
All three of them, nothing else. There was no armor, weapons or boots on two of them.
Their faces were split and swollen, like they had been hit repeatedly by people who weren't in a hurry about it.
One had a cut above his eye that had bled down his face and dried there. Another was holding his ribs with one arm.
Garren was already moving, crossing the hall and crouching beside the nearest one before Darion had fully processed what he was looking at.
Darion stood up.
