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Author Topic: Hospital at the Army Headquarters  (Read 4333 times)
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« on: February 16, 2009, 12:51:53 AM »



Wyshnir-eck- Honeyr Traylon Grillus hobbled along, the snow and ice crunching under his heavy footsteps.  His breath was laboured and his pace was slow.  He was heading for the army hospital.  He was, however, not the one in need of a doctor.  He half walked, half carried another man, a young soldier who had been hit by a random arrow.  Traylon felt that it was morbidly ironic that the young soldier had survived without a scratch the fighting throughout the night, yet in the relative calm of the morning hours, had taken an arrow in the chest.

Traylon felt the soldier with him stumble, then cough up some blood and go a little more limp in his arms.  The weight was beginning to get to him, and he was still a few streets over from the hospital.  His arms were beginning to burn, and he was starting to panic that he might not make it.  If he was going to save this man's young life, he was going to need help.

He looked about frantically, but there was no one to be seen.  The early hour, and the war had conspired against him, leaving him alone on the Remusian street.  "Help!  Someone, I need help."  Traylon called out hoping someone would hear him.  A few moments went by, but no one appeared.

The weight was getting painful on him, and he knew any moment, he was going to drop the young wounded soldier.  His spirits then lifted when he spotted movement ahead.  An older gentleman, dressed in robes and very obviously not a Remusian, rounded a corner and was now on the same street.  "Hey!"  Traylon called out, a cloud of frozen mist emanating from his mouth.  "You there!  Help me.  I need your help.  I have a wounded soldier here."  By Kor'och's grace, he hoped the man could hear him.
« Last Edit: February 16, 2009, 03:50:33 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

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Zann Lightbringer
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« Reply #1 on: February 17, 2009, 01:30:47 AM »

"Hey!"

A faint voice echoed forth from the eerily quiet streets of the Remusian city. Zann glanced around him, hoping that the source was a living being and not a fleshless spirit. Somehow, the snow filled avenues and dark back alleys seemed to cast a fear spell on him, and the old cleric thought it best to hurry his steps towards the Beard before he dies of sheer terror on the otherwise deserted street. The creepy voice sounded again, this time more clear and accompanied by footsteps sloshing through the snow.

"You there!  Help me.  I need your help.  I have a ......."

Zann paused and slowly looked sideways, towards the direction of the sound. He had heard stories of ghastly beings seeking the help of mortal men, though he can't understand why this particular one wants an attendant of the Lone God to aid him. Isn't that what those disgusting clerics of Queprur are for? He peered through snow covered eyebrows and squinted hard. Light at this part of the day is scarce, but he could make out a man, with a very large hump on his back. Perhaps he needed help in carrying that load? It looks very heavy to him. He sighed with relief. At least it was not a specter.

He walked slowly towards the gentleman and was to call out a cheery good morning when his eyes noticed the the burden he bore. It was not some kind of baggage, as the old man initially thought of, but a man, white with cold and shivering in the freezing air. The cleric widened his eyes in alarm and half walked, half limped to the aid of the wounded soldier. He nearly tripped, but caught himself and rushed towards the burdened man. He noticed blood stains all over the back of the young man, and took this for an ill omen.

"Good Nehtor, what has happened to this man? Can you carry him a little further? We must find a warm place for him!" Zann looked frantically around him, trying to find a good soul who could house this young man for a while. First the collapsed barmaid from the Beard. Now a wounded young soldier. What on earth is happening to this city?
« Last Edit: February 17, 2009, 01:32:15 AM by Zann Lightbringer » Logged

Show me a man who walks into a sick tent with no thought of his own health and I'll show you a brave man.
Zann Lightbringer, servant of Nehtor.
Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #2 on: February 22, 2009, 07:10:28 AM »



The old Remusian doctor made his way over to the young man whom had come in last night from the battle, one of the first injured.  Zaven sat heavily on a stool that was next to the small cot, his body weary and aching from a long night of tending to the more serious of battle wounds.  Too many young men had died, and far too many had lost limbs.  His arm ached from the constant sawing through bone.  This small break he took now was the first time he had sat since yesterday at the inn, and he had not slept in over a day.

He reached over and touched the face of the young man, a foreigner who, if Zaven remembered correctly what the men bringing him in said, was an officer in the cavalry.  The young man had taken a club or similar object to the skull and was knocked unconscious.  The face was warm, but not fevered.  That was good.  Zaven gently opened the man's left eye, but there was no movement, not even of the pupil in the light.  That was not so good.  Truth be told, Zaven had done all he could by stopping the bleeding.  The rest, was up to the gods and to the young man himself.  He had seen men die from this type of wound, some wake up and not be "right" anymore, and others awaken after a few days, and be healthy as they ever were. All he could do was wait.

He sat back, resting against the wall and letting his eyes close for a moment.  It would be so easy to fall asleep.  So very easy...
« Last Edit: February 22, 2009, 11:18:11 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

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Capher
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« Reply #3 on: March 23, 2009, 08:22:35 AM »



The figure slowly came into Traylon's view and Traylon saw that it was an old man, who seemed to be limping along and almost fell in his rush to help him. Great, I suppose if he falls I will have to carry him as well. Why could I not have gotten help from someone who was a bit...younger and stronger? Traylon thought.

"Good Nehtor, what has happened to this man? Can you carry him a little further? We must find a warm place for him!" The old man exclaimed.

Traylon peered into the old man's eyes. Could it be? Could this man be a healer? Traylon thought, hope rising in his heart.

"He has an orc arrow in in his chest. I need help to get him to the hospital. Do you think you can help me please," Traylon pleaded.

« Last Edit: March 23, 2009, 08:28:22 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged
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« Reply #4 on: April 14, 2009, 11:06:16 PM »



Zann hooked his arm under the wounded soilder's arm and lifted him. "Thanks," Traylon sighed with relief. The weight of the wounded man was almost too much to bear for him. "My name is Traylon," Traylon said as they slowly stumbled their way to the hospital.

"Name is Zann, young fella. What is going on in this city?" Zann asked.

Traylon stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the wounded man as he stared at the old man in utter surprise and shock. "Have you been in a cave old man? Have you not heard that we are at war with the orc's? They attacked the Western Gate. That is where I have just come from and where my comrade in arms was wounded. It was a surprise attack and it took a lot of men to keep it from falling." Traylon shouted.

When Trayon stopped suddenly, Zann almost pulled the wounded man's shoulder out of his socket and heard the man groan in pain. "Are ye crazy, boy? Stopping like that? I could have dropped him, as it is we caused him pain," Zann said angrily, not really listening to Traylon until he heard something about the Western Gate and orcs.

"Attack? By orc's you say?" asked Zann.

"Yes! We were attacked by orc's," Traylon answered in disbelief. "Did you not hear anything I just said?" Traylon asked. "Are you blind as well as hard of hearing? Cannot you see the orcish arrow sticking out of this man's chest?"

Orc's, no wonder this city is going crazy. Zann thought. He heard the boy yelling at him disturbing his thoughts. You are a rude boy, he thought, as he listened to the boy's ranting.

"There is no need gettin' personal, boy. I hear just fine. I was just surprised by the news that's all. Well, let's not just stand here lollygagging, this man needs a doctor, not just healer."

Traylon stared for a moment at the old man and then began to carry and walk toward the hospital which he knew was just up the alley and around the corner. He was quiet as he thought, did not the city realize that they were under attack? Or was it just this old man?

Zann was lost in own thoughts as they walked up the alley in silence, rounded the left corner and then a few buildings down the street they came to the hospital.

Traylon opened the door and then they both carried in the wounded man. Traylon shouted, "We need a doctor! We have a wounded man here!"

« Last Edit: April 15, 2009, 12:40:31 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged
Zann Lightbringer
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« Reply #5 on: April 17, 2009, 03:53:26 PM »

"Orcs! Attacked by orcs, and in the middle of a frozen wasteland to boot! Ohh, I do hope the port is still open , or else I'll be stuck here fearing for my life!" Zann kept muttering to himself despite the fact that they were inside the army hospital. Many soldiers lay wounded on bunks; others had bandages covering half their body. Still some weren't so lucky as the others, having lost their lives to defend their homes and their families. This is exactly the reason why he didn't join the Erpheronian army; it's idiotic and absurd to risk one's life just to ward off invaders. Commendable, yes, but way too stupid. He felt he could be more useful in tending to the wounded. That way fewer fighters will die, and the country will have a greater chance of effectively warding off any attacks.

"I can heal him." The cleric told the young soldier. Then he remembered that not many people in this city would entrust their comrades, much less their life, to a foreign healer with strange methods of practicing medicine. Goodness, they don't even know who Nehtor is! "uhh, forget I said anything. We need to find a physician to attend to him as soon as possible."

Going to the hospital is easy, with the young soldier carrying most of the heavy burden. Finding a good doctor is the hard part. Everybody is busy tending the dozens of warriors too wounded to walk. Silently he thought to himself. Should he offer his services to this hospital? What if it was invaded by the orcish horde? He won't have that much time to escape because he's slow. Plus, quality medicinal herbs are hard to find in this land. Where would he get some to replenish his stock? He could try using conventional methods of healing, but again these people aren't that trusting. The cleric kept quiet, lest he disturb those who were resting, and calmly waited for someone to attend to this poor soul.
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Show me a man who walks into a sick tent with no thought of his own health and I'll show you a brave man.
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« Reply #6 on: April 18, 2009, 12:18:07 AM »



Zavens head snapped forward, and his eyes fluttered open.  Had he fallen asleep?  No, he couldn't have.  He checked the unconscious man beside him, and was reloieved that he still breathed.  Climbing stiffly to his feet, he saw two men enter the hospital room carrying a third man  Another assault?  He hoped not.  He was hoping the orcs would be a little quieter during the daylight hours.  But maybe that just wasn't to be.

He started toward the men, just as another healer was about to, but Zaven waved him off.  He had a moment, and he was not about to do less than his share.  "What have we got here?" he asked, as he approached, but did not wait for, or even expect an answer.  The man being carried had obviously been wounded, as a great deal of blood had covered the front of him, and had stained his pants as it drained out.  Zaven quickly assessed the wound. 

A gash in the flesh of the man's chest appeared to be an arrow wound, and someone, perhaps the wounded man himself, had foolishly pulled it out.  As the orcs had devised a terribly effective barbed arrow point, if one was not careful in removing them, they often tore the flesh severely, which it had done in this case.  A great amount of the muscle, and even some bone had been simply torn away with the arrow.  And the resulting blood loss had been excessive.

He reached out and pressed two wrinkled fingers against the man's throat, searching for the rythm of life.  He shook his head slowly, then looked grimly into the eyes of the two men.  "I'm sorry, but your friend is dead."  He stepped back and pointed to a far corner, where many bodies were placed with care on the floor.  "Put him over there, there is nothing for me to do.  He is with the gods now.  Necteref has led him through the frozen fog."

He looked at both men, who had worked so hard to bring their dead comrade here, and he felt a sudden rush of remorse.  "I'm sorry," he muttered again.
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
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« Reply #7 on: April 20, 2009, 03:35:45 AM »



Traylon blinked and swallowed hard when he heard the doctor say the man he had been carrying was dead. He turned on Zann. "If you would have moved faster instead of asking me all of those fool questions we may have got him here in time. But no, you had no clue, no one in this city has no clue, no idea that we have been attacked," tears began streaming down Traylon's face, "going on about their lives while others are dying!

Traylon shook his head sadly, shrugged his shoulders and then began carrying the man to where the doctor had told him to put him. He slowly wrapped the body in a sheet, gazing at all of the other shrouded bodies. He whispered to no in particular, "i wonder if the King even knows?"

Finished he walked over to Zann. "I apologize for what I said earlier. It was not your fault. He probably would have died even if we had made it here."

Traylon looked up into the old doctor's face. "This man says he is a healer, perhaps you could use him here. I am going to my bunk," Traylon turned to walk out of the door.
« Last Edit: April 26, 2009, 08:35:12 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged
Isoto
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« Reply #8 on: April 21, 2009, 12:57:56 PM »

Isoto shrugged through the hospital door. His wound had reopened and was no freely bleeding. He turned his head to see a bright read trail leading from the headquarter tent. This accursed wound was worse than I thought, but its still nothing. However the general wants it checked out. Isoto thought as he straightened his posture.

Isoto walked into the hospital little more and looked around. He was somewhat reluctant to ask for help...it almost seemed like, a weakness. Suddenly a dread filled Isoto, the thought of asking someone for help was bad enough, but he now had to admit that he was injured. What kind of incompetent solider was he.

Isoto could feel his pride dwindling...he didn't like it.

But it was an order, so taking a deep breath Isoto, raising his voice, asked, "Who is the chief surgeon here. As the words left his mouth he was filled with a strange feeling or embarrassment, anger, and nausea. If this is what asking for help felt like he rather be dead.

Isoto stood there waiting for the for the surgeon to respond. As he waited the feeling in his gut grew and was fuled by his impatience. This surgeon better hurry the hell up before I take the blasted thing out myself. Isoto began to tap his foot and was becoming increasingly more annoyed with the situation.
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Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin
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« Reply #9 on: April 26, 2009, 12:10:51 PM »



Zaven listened to the young soldier introduce the older man as a healer.  The news was welcomed to Zaven's ears.  If this were true, they could surely use the help.  The older woman, Simonne, was in the back resting, having exhausted herself during the course of the long night.  Zaven tried to smile, but it only came out as a grim line, too tired was he to do it properly.  "If that be true, stranger, we surely could use the help.  The other healers and myself are worn to near the breaking point as is."

At that moment, the old Remusian heard the voice of an elf calling out for a healer.  The elf looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't quite place him.  Oh yes!  At the headquarters.  He was there when Zaven had healed the scout brother of Orsah-Arroch Altario.  He looked at the old healer and nodded to the elf's position.  "If you be a healer, there is someone in need."  This would give him a chance to observe the stranger and assess just what type of a benefit he would prove to be.
« Last Edit: April 26, 2009, 12:14:41 PM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Galthas
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« Reply #10 on: July 01, 2009, 08:40:14 AM »

The door to the army hospital flew open, letting in cold and snowy air that was unwelcome by the wounded. Two men, each looking strong and burly made their way into the building, each carrying one end of a large crate. They struggled over and set the crate against a wall. Exhausted, they stood for a moment, catching their breath. Into the doorway appeared a fat dwarf, looking rather tired but carrying nothing that could be construed as heavy. He was wearing a gray suit with a brown plaid underjacket, which, along with the unbuttoned gray suit jacket he wore over it, had brass buttons.

"Thanks boys," Galthas said as he moved over to the two crate-carriers, "these will help ta heal many o' the men that're wounded." The round-faced dwarf slipped each of them four sans and sent them off with a smile on their face. Grabbing a flat bar that was on top of the crate, he opened the lid with much difficulty. As the wooden top of the crate fell to the floor, it revealed that it was stocked full with green herbs.

Galthas turned around, and even though his face was flushed, he was smiling as well. He lumbered over and sat down heavily in the chair closest to his crate. "Now," he said, opening the pack he had under an arm and taking out a brown cat, which he held and stroked, "who here is tha chief surgeon?" Also bringing a sandwich out of the pack, he took a large bite of it and chewed voraciously. Swallowing the large chunk of food, he said, "Ahm, Galthas Tavaria, a healer from tha Mithrals, and ahm 'ere ta help tend tha wounded."

Looking around the hospital, and seeing the shocked faces of many of the people there. He realized that he probably should have been more polite in the way he entered. Thinkin' back on it, he thought to himself, I prob'ly shoulda int'raduced maself before I sat down.
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A person who is not willing to give assistance should not ask for it.
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« Reply #11 on: July 04, 2009, 01:19:32 AM »



Zaven was aware of someone shaking his shoulder.  This came as great annoyance to him, as he had finally gotten to sleep, and he grunted miserably towards the person who stood over him.  "What is it?"

"Uhm, sir, there is another foreign healer here.  Just walked in."

Zaven opened one bleary eye.  "Another? Fine, if he looks like he knows what he's doing, then put him to work.  No shortage of people needing healing here.  Now, please let me sleep for a few minutes.  Wake me when the sun is at its height."  The bleary eye closed once more. 

Another gentle shake of his shoulder was accompanied by the voice again.  "It's after nightfall, sir.  And I really think you might want to see this one.  He's a dwarf, sir."

Both eyes opened.  After nightfall?  Surely not.  It felt like he had only just closed his eyes, not like he had slept most of the day.  Sighing, Zaven lifted himself off the bed, and swung his weary legs to the floor.  He was getting too old for this.  It would be his last war.  With any luck, he will have moved on to the next life by the time the next war was fought.

"Show me."  He said as he pulled himself to his feet.  He folowed the man to the main entrance, where a portly dwarf was sitting on a crate eating a sandwich.  With eyebrow raised, Zaven stepped forward.  "I'm Zaven.  I'm in charge here.  You are a healer?"
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Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Galthas
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« Reply #12 on: July 04, 2009, 02:36:27 AM »

An old man had just been woken up from what looked like a much-needed sleep and was walking over to Galthas, as he sat finishing his sandwich. As the stern-looking man approached the dwarf, Galthas stood up and placed the little bit of his sandwich that was left into his mouth.

"Like I said, sir," began Galthas, "Ahm a healer from tha Mithral Mountains, though ya probably didn't hear 'cause ya was asleep."

The dwarf turned around to the crate he had been sitting on and pulled out a good-sized bucket of dried herbs. He took a large sniff of what was inside and sighed, handing it to the old cheif surgeon. Stroking Almond again, he began to explain how and why he had come here.

"Ahm sorry fer wakin' ya, it looks like ya've been workin' on these boys all night," he motioned a hand around to the tired healers and wounded soldiers sitting around the room. "At ma home in the mountains, sick dwarves come from far an' wide ta let me treat 'em," he smiled proudly. "One of 'em came in one mornin' and told me that them orcs was attackin' yer city. I'd heard it was real bad, so I packed up what herbs I could and bought ma way on a merchant caravan that was headin' up this way.

"When we stopped in towns I told tha townsfolk what was goin' on and they donated bits o' money. After collectin' a good sum o' money, we stopped in the last large town up this way, besides thisn', and I bought up 'bout everything medical they had and stored it in this crate. We finally got up here and I payed them two boys ta carry it in."

He shut his mouth in a way that said he had finished his story and set his cat down on the crate. Suddenly, Galthas stuck his hand out at the old healer and said, "Sir, I'd like ta help these boys, and I'd be honored ta serve in this hospital."
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A person who is not willing to give assistance should not ask for it.
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« Reply #13 on: July 08, 2009, 02:54:34 AM »



Zaven listened to the dwarf, scrutinizing the man as he did so.  The story he had to tell was an amazing one, he decided.  Another surprising fact, which was strange for him, was that he decided he liked this dwarf.  Not too many people he chose to get along with, especially outsiders, but yesterday he met that older healing woman, and today a healing dwarf.  Nechya was a surprising god.  He grasped the dwarf's thick hands in his own.

"I can use the help, there's no denying that.  These boys are on their way to being healed, but there will be more.  Damn orcs always see to that.  As for any supplies you bring, I can see what I can do about getting you some fair compensation, but I make no promises.  I don't hold much sway when it comes to the General, and the purse strings."

It was at that moment that a young soldier came crashing into the hospital, followed by men and litter bearers, bringing in wounded men, many of whom appeared to be very badly burnt.  "We need help!"

Zaven's face went dark.  "It looks like it begins again."  He yelled out to the man who came in.  "How many?"

The man hurried over to where the old doctor and the dwarf were conversing.  "A lot, sir.  Some of those burned the worst, we did not move for fear of killing them.  Do you suggest we bring them anyway?  Or would you rather we simply comfort them until they die?  We aren't sure what to do, sir."

Zaven grunted.  Burns were not good.  Many who received bad burns would not survive.  If they did not die immediately from their injuries, many became sick with fever in the days after and died.  It was a terrible way to die.  He wanted to go there and see what he could do, but he knew that was out of the question.  He was needed here, with the men that he could save.

He glanced back at the dwarf.  He suddenly had an idea.  "I can't leave here, or these men might perish.  How would you feel about going to the wall and comforting those men there?  Most of them will probably die, but you might be able to save some that wouldn't otherwise survive."
« Last Edit: July 08, 2009, 02:57:13 AM by Altario Shialt-eck-Gorrin » Logged

Favorite Cartoon Quotes
"It was a dark and stormy night."  - Snoopy
"Ack!" - Bill the Cat
"I did not have sex with that woman, Monica Lewinski." - President Bill Clinton

My Character can be viewed @Angelina Jolie's house.  But knock first, in case I'm in my underwear.
Galthas
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« Reply #14 on: July 09, 2009, 04:56:11 AM »

"How would you feel about going to the wall and comforting the men there?"

"Of course, sir," replied Galthas, looking rather excited. I thought convincing these people to let me help them would be a lot harder than it turned out to be, he thought as he walked over to pick up his pack, at least now I have a chance to prove myself.

The dwarf looked down at his cat, which was sitting contentedly on a crate. He picked up Almond and walked over to the soldier who had brought the news, who was now sitting on a bench. "If you'll just take care of ma cat fer me," he mumbled gruffly as he laid the brown cat on the man's lap.

Galthas lumbered out of the door and began to walk down the snow covered streets of Remusia rather quickly. As he walked he contemplated what had happened in the hospital. That man seemed to have taken to Galthas, who couldn't beleive that he had. As he remembered the conversation he realized he had forgotten to tell the man not to worry about compensation, for Galthas was happy to help the cause, and wouldn't accept the money if it was given to him.

Huffing and puffing, the fat dwarf finally reached the city gate, which was shut tightly, but he could hear and see thumping on the other side of it. On the top of the wall he saw humans and orcs fighting. Horrified, Galthas noticed that one of the vats of boiling oil on top of the walls had flipped backwards and spilled on the men on this side of the wall. He saw men groaning and screaming and managed to make his way over to one that looked like he might survive with a little help and fell to his knees in a dry area beside the groaning man.

"There, there," he was muttering as he started to treat the boy, "ya'll be fine."

OOC: Continued at Southern Gate
« Last Edit: July 22, 2009, 01:10:18 AM by Galthas » Logged

A person who is not willing to give assistance should not ask for it.
       -Galthas Tavaria, Dwarven Healer
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