Well, that was all she wrote for the time being. There were no more goblins in sight. No living ones, anyway. This was good. However, there were still more scattered throughout the town, Hukmen would guess, gauging by the screams that had been heard and the general state of unrest the town was still in. Time to take brief stock of the situation. There weren't any majorly serious wounds amongst the civilians, save for the scullery maid, and the wild-eyed half-elf had taken a rather nasty wound to her leg. She'd been highly useful thus far, as had the half-orc, and most recently the well-placed arrow from the elf maiden. Fortunately, though, neither of them had sustained injury. So he had a choice to make here, as he knew the healing magic he was capable of was finite without sufficient rest.
In the short term, he'd choose the one who'd just decapitated a goblin and clove open the head of a second with an axe. A few spirited steps bring him over to the half-elf. The adrenaline she was probably experiencing was kept in mind as he extends a hand to her. "You're wounded. If you'll let me, I can tend to that." It might seem odd, to ask one who was injured if they wanted to be healed, but when the one who was injured was carrying a bloodied woodsman's axe, he understandably wouldn't want to risk that axe ending up anywhere in him.