((OOC Thread Here))
The brisk autumn air brought along with it rapidly changing weather, and a shift in crime as Bandits and thieves stole more for their winter stocks, beggars struggled to find places to remain and families rushed to sell what was left of their summer goods. As more bandits, hasty to gather enough for their winter stores, committed dangerous although disorganized raids, more would be captured, and tried, and hung. It was why the Bandit activity in the winter was rare, but very dangerous- only the most cunning survived.
Her fingers dug into the cool soil, pushing past the fallen leaves as the woman attempted to drag herself towards the main road. It was dangerous, venturing into the open, but with the condition she was in, staying in these woods would be a death sentence. Her slate blue eyes stared towards the lanterns that were lit; dusk was approaching, and the creatures that lurked in these woods would be dangerous opponents for her.
She wouldn’t make it far; the woman let out a faint wheeze as she reached forward again, opening her mouth to make a final, desperate cry for help, but her eyes rolled back to show the whites, and her head fell to the dirt with a dull thud. Above her, the wind whipped up into a strong gust, knocking leaves from their branches and scattering the ones around her.
Her pale hair remained splayed out on the ground, her shoulders covered by assorted furs and a heavy, red wool cloak; she seemed to be far from home, with clothing like that, fit for the harsh chill of the mountains. But the crest on her back would most likely deter anyone from helping her; a simple shield shape, with a black oval and two crossed daggers. Nothing fancy, until the gold embroidery around its borders signaled her rank.
Perhaps a passerby wouldn’t understand, or maybe someone inexperienced in the underworld of criminals. But to those who had that knowledge, she was a risk, a high ranking member of a dangerous Bandit Clan from the north— Onyx. A gemstone that protected against adversaries and defended in battle, it was a bit ironic one of their members was helpless now, lying alone in the rapidly darkening woods.
Though she was breathing, it was raspy and shallow, and the deep bruise on her head didn’t signal anything better. Her wounds could be lethal, if left alone as they were.
But in that moment, the road was silent, save for the rustle of the autumn leaves in the wind.
The brisk autumn air brought along with it rapidly changing weather, and a shift in crime as Bandits and thieves stole more for their winter stocks, beggars struggled to find places to remain and families rushed to sell what was left of their summer goods. As more bandits, hasty to gather enough for their winter stores, committed dangerous although disorganized raids, more would be captured, and tried, and hung. It was why the Bandit activity in the winter was rare, but very dangerous- only the most cunning survived.
Her fingers dug into the cool soil, pushing past the fallen leaves as the woman attempted to drag herself towards the main road. It was dangerous, venturing into the open, but with the condition she was in, staying in these woods would be a death sentence. Her slate blue eyes stared towards the lanterns that were lit; dusk was approaching, and the creatures that lurked in these woods would be dangerous opponents for her.
She wouldn’t make it far; the woman let out a faint wheeze as she reached forward again, opening her mouth to make a final, desperate cry for help, but her eyes rolled back to show the whites, and her head fell to the dirt with a dull thud. Above her, the wind whipped up into a strong gust, knocking leaves from their branches and scattering the ones around her.
Her pale hair remained splayed out on the ground, her shoulders covered by assorted furs and a heavy, red wool cloak; she seemed to be far from home, with clothing like that, fit for the harsh chill of the mountains. But the crest on her back would most likely deter anyone from helping her; a simple shield shape, with a black oval and two crossed daggers. Nothing fancy, until the gold embroidery around its borders signaled her rank.
Perhaps a passerby wouldn’t understand, or maybe someone inexperienced in the underworld of criminals. But to those who had that knowledge, she was a risk, a high ranking member of a dangerous Bandit Clan from the north— Onyx. A gemstone that protected against adversaries and defended in battle, it was a bit ironic one of their members was helpless now, lying alone in the rapidly darkening woods.
Though she was breathing, it was raspy and shallow, and the deep bruise on her head didn’t signal anything better. Her wounds could be lethal, if left alone as they were.
But in that moment, the road was silent, save for the rustle of the autumn leaves in the wind.
In the crisp autumn air a creature flew over the forest; at a glance from on the ground a person might mistake her silhouette as a large bird of prey. With the lamps now lit and the sky turning ever darker it would be difficult for any human to see the harpy for what she was, so she lazy followed the curve of the main road from high above. The lamp lights that dotted the road would guide her to her destination of an abandoned barn that she had discovered on the outskirts of a sleepy village. For a few weeks now she had been using it as a home base in preparation for the winter months to come, and by now it was nearly fully stocked with a stockpile of stolen food and other items that would keep her cozy.
A satchel was slung over her back as she flew, having finished sneakily raiding a far off town’s supply house of salted meat. The harpy considered it to be quite the feat seeing she was alone.
As she flew onwards a strong gust caught under her wings and the trees below gave a hushed hiss as their leaves fell; but something else caught her attention. Her sharp green eyes darted towards the thing just outside the glow of the lamplight. Furs…An animal? No…a human? She slowly glided closer when there was no movement in the surrounding area.
The pale hair had first caught her attention, but as she came closer what drew her eyes now was the embroidered crest upon their back. Atoli landed atop the lantern’s wooden post and stared down at the fallen human from a few yards away. She gave the area one more preliminary scan before flapping down to the ground to stand over Iskra curiously. She crouched and pushed the platinum blonde hair aside to get a better look at the crest.
“Onyx?” She murmured aloud. She knew of the group; being a bandit herself. Though the harpy was not affiliated with any clan herself, she made it her business to know of the biggest/infamous groups in the land… and this one she knew was from the north, so why was this female here?
She tilted her head in thought, and carefully went to turn her over onto her back to see their face. If the female was still unconscious she would tap on their collar bone with a gentle force to see if they would awaken.
A satchel was slung over her back as she flew, having finished sneakily raiding a far off town’s supply house of salted meat. The harpy considered it to be quite the feat seeing she was alone.
As she flew onwards a strong gust caught under her wings and the trees below gave a hushed hiss as their leaves fell; but something else caught her attention. Her sharp green eyes darted towards the thing just outside the glow of the lamplight. Furs…An animal? No…a human? She slowly glided closer when there was no movement in the surrounding area.
The pale hair had first caught her attention, but as she came closer what drew her eyes now was the embroidered crest upon their back. Atoli landed atop the lantern’s wooden post and stared down at the fallen human from a few yards away. She gave the area one more preliminary scan before flapping down to the ground to stand over Iskra curiously. She crouched and pushed the platinum blonde hair aside to get a better look at the crest.
“Onyx?” She murmured aloud. She knew of the group; being a bandit herself. Though the harpy was not affiliated with any clan herself, she made it her business to know of the biggest/infamous groups in the land… and this one she knew was from the north, so why was this female here?
She tilted her head in thought, and carefully went to turn her over onto her back to see their face. If the female was still unconscious she would tap on their collar bone with a gentle force to see if they would awaken.
There was no movement from the strange blonde when she was turned, but the other injuries became clearer; a stab wound, by the looks of the blood, not to mention what was probably an arrow jammed into her side. She had broken it down it seemed, just enough so it would be out of her way when she ran.
It also exposed a strange set of bruises on her neck, almost rope-like the way they stretched, and in deep hues of purple and blue.
There was a promising reaction at the tap; the woman let out a soft, pained groan, her eyelashes fluttering as she struggled to come to, “Ngh...who do you....” her words became reduced to nothing but mumbles in a few moments as she lost that fight, slipping back into her unconcious state. But she appeared alive, at least for now. And probably not for long, with wounds as dangerous as her own.
It also exposed a strange set of bruises on her neck, almost rope-like the way they stretched, and in deep hues of purple and blue.
There was a promising reaction at the tap; the woman let out a soft, pained groan, her eyelashes fluttering as she struggled to come to, “Ngh...who do you....” her words became reduced to nothing but mumbles in a few moments as she lost that fight, slipping back into her unconcious state. But she appeared alive, at least for now. And probably not for long, with wounds as dangerous as her own.
Atoli’s brows furrowed as the woman murmured and faded back to unconsciousness. The dark stains of blood and the broken arrow shaft that remained in the female’s side was easy to see even as dusk approached. The harpy wasn’t heartless… letting this human die human alone wasn’t an option in her mind.
A few options flew through Atoli’s mind now as she tried to decide what to do. They were at least several miles away from the nearest town, but maybe there was an inhabited home somewhere in the forest? It was a long shot… and even if she did find someone’s house who would believe and follow a harpy through the forest at night?
The harpy looked up to the nearest lamp thoughtfully; she was no healer by any means, but surviving alone meant she knew how to cauterize and look after her own wounds. She stood, leaving her pack by Iskra, and flew up to the lamp post once more to untie and carry the lit lamp to the ground, which she placed near the woman’s side.
“Light and fire is important…” Atoli murmured, half to herself and half to Iskra, though she didn’t expect her to hear or listen. She crouched again and rifled through her satchel. Besides the dried and salted meats, she had a small dagger that she often used to cut ropes with, a small water skin, and some extra cloth that she used to wrap the food she stole.
Atoli took out everything from the satchel except for the meat and looked back to Iskra. With careful hands, she went to lift the injured bandit’s shirt to expose the stab and arrow wound. She winced when she got a better look at it. If the wound was still bleeding the harpy would take the dagger rinse it and the wound, and open the lantern to start heating the metal. This was going to be ugly…
A few options flew through Atoli’s mind now as she tried to decide what to do. They were at least several miles away from the nearest town, but maybe there was an inhabited home somewhere in the forest? It was a long shot… and even if she did find someone’s house who would believe and follow a harpy through the forest at night?
The harpy looked up to the nearest lamp thoughtfully; she was no healer by any means, but surviving alone meant she knew how to cauterize and look after her own wounds. She stood, leaving her pack by Iskra, and flew up to the lamp post once more to untie and carry the lit lamp to the ground, which she placed near the woman’s side.
“Light and fire is important…” Atoli murmured, half to herself and half to Iskra, though she didn’t expect her to hear or listen. She crouched again and rifled through her satchel. Besides the dried and salted meats, she had a small dagger that she often used to cut ropes with, a small water skin, and some extra cloth that she used to wrap the food she stole.
Atoli took out everything from the satchel except for the meat and looked back to Iskra. With careful hands, she went to lift the injured bandit’s shirt to expose the stab and arrow wound. She winced when she got a better look at it. If the wound was still bleeding the harpy would take the dagger rinse it and the wound, and open the lantern to start heating the metal. This was going to be ugly…
Quintus walked through the winding path away from the small village, covered in fur and wearing his armors under-suit with a few hard points attached he was relatively warm.The fur coat, made of a snow wolfs pelt was a gift from his first encounter with the citizens of the small village. At the time of his arrival the village had been ablaze, attacked by feral goblins of all things. He'd made a choice then, revealing himself to a family who had been attempting to keep a gang of the little green bastards away.
The results of his work throughout the village had been gruesome, creatures of legend with little to no armor against his armor piercing plasma tipped bullets had ensured there was no contest in who the victor would be. The amount of blood and grime on him had made him seem as a vengeful spirit, black armor and reflective visor allowing his dying foes to see their horrified expressions. When the creatures where routed he'd helped tend to the wounded, put out fires, search and rescue and distributed the food supplies he'd had on hand. It was no surprise then that they'd all seen him as a hero, though it had taken a small frightened child to break the ice all the villagers had had around him. His armor however had resulted in them believing he was a knight and some, having seen the flaming wreckage as he had descended from the skies and deduced that it he must of come from it called him the Starknight.
Hard to believe it'd been a year since then.
He'd aided in building better defenses for their village, helped trained a militia and medics and on occasion helped defend the villagers from bandits and creatures alike. Though he was glad he managed to make their lives easier it had reduced most of his supplies, his food was gone, his rifles emptied and medical supplies reaching critical levels. He'd thought of making more but with limited supplies it could take years to create the machines necessary to create the machine he needed to make new bullets, gear,etc.
The villagers however had helped him immensely, refusing to take no for an answer. They'd helped him clear a plot of land about 5 hours time from the village, gave him the title of patron Knight of the village of Alnwick (purely honorary) and had showed him how to read the land,hunt and cook. He had in turn, offered to teach any who wished how to read and write as best he could, he'd never really been good at teaching. Quintus smiled.
Looking around the trail all he could think of was how calm and beautiful this world was, much different from his past life. Shifting the sack on his shoulders from his recent trip to Alnwick he resumed his long trek home, the lightly blowing wind swirling red and golden yellow leaves around, reflecting the red light of the sun. He began marching faster, without fire even the furs would let the chill in, and without his helmet even his eyes would have difficulty navigating if he lost the path.
Eventually he reached a fork in the road, one led to his home, the other to some far off town,in the distance he could see a fire, perhaps some late comer headed to the village? No matter, with a decent pace they'd make it back in time. Taking the right path he continued onward, past willows creek, through a small meadow before standing before his home. Three stories tall it was amongst one of the bigger structures in the area, and the only one with metal supports for its structure. Walking up the porch he placed down the sack and began lighting the lamps around the front before entering inside.
The inside of his home would look almost otherworldly in architecture and positioning, with titanium tables, a counter made of marble, square tiled light beige tiles (gifts from the village, though he'd given them some gold, extracted from his ships computer systems). Bedding, couches and chairs made using his fighters internal crash webbing and such. most of his fighter had been scrapped and reused to build this place. 'AND' he thought to himself as he entered the pool room, 'I finally got the electrical circuits to work he thought as the inside of his home lit up brightly. taking of the fur coat he went down into the cantina placing salted meats, fruits and other goods he'd traded for inside. Refrigeration was still something he was working on, as well as getting the plumbing to work properly. It'd had taken him all year to set up the bases for both, the struggle making him wonder if giving away the gold had been worth it. Returning upstairs he lay on a couch and finally, drifted off to sleep.
The results of his work throughout the village had been gruesome, creatures of legend with little to no armor against his armor piercing plasma tipped bullets had ensured there was no contest in who the victor would be. The amount of blood and grime on him had made him seem as a vengeful spirit, black armor and reflective visor allowing his dying foes to see their horrified expressions. When the creatures where routed he'd helped tend to the wounded, put out fires, search and rescue and distributed the food supplies he'd had on hand. It was no surprise then that they'd all seen him as a hero, though it had taken a small frightened child to break the ice all the villagers had had around him. His armor however had resulted in them believing he was a knight and some, having seen the flaming wreckage as he had descended from the skies and deduced that it he must of come from it called him the Starknight.
Hard to believe it'd been a year since then.
He'd aided in building better defenses for their village, helped trained a militia and medics and on occasion helped defend the villagers from bandits and creatures alike. Though he was glad he managed to make their lives easier it had reduced most of his supplies, his food was gone, his rifles emptied and medical supplies reaching critical levels. He'd thought of making more but with limited supplies it could take years to create the machines necessary to create the machine he needed to make new bullets, gear,etc.
The villagers however had helped him immensely, refusing to take no for an answer. They'd helped him clear a plot of land about 5 hours time from the village, gave him the title of patron Knight of the village of Alnwick (purely honorary) and had showed him how to read the land,hunt and cook. He had in turn, offered to teach any who wished how to read and write as best he could, he'd never really been good at teaching. Quintus smiled.
Looking around the trail all he could think of was how calm and beautiful this world was, much different from his past life. Shifting the sack on his shoulders from his recent trip to Alnwick he resumed his long trek home, the lightly blowing wind swirling red and golden yellow leaves around, reflecting the red light of the sun. He began marching faster, without fire even the furs would let the chill in, and without his helmet even his eyes would have difficulty navigating if he lost the path.
Eventually he reached a fork in the road, one led to his home, the other to some far off town,in the distance he could see a fire, perhaps some late comer headed to the village? No matter, with a decent pace they'd make it back in time. Taking the right path he continued onward, past willows creek, through a small meadow before standing before his home. Three stories tall it was amongst one of the bigger structures in the area, and the only one with metal supports for its structure. Walking up the porch he placed down the sack and began lighting the lamps around the front before entering inside.
The inside of his home would look almost otherworldly in architecture and positioning, with titanium tables, a counter made of marble, square tiled light beige tiles (gifts from the village, though he'd given them some gold, extracted from his ships computer systems). Bedding, couches and chairs made using his fighters internal crash webbing and such. most of his fighter had been scrapped and reused to build this place. 'AND' he thought to himself as he entered the pool room, 'I finally got the electrical circuits to work he thought as the inside of his home lit up brightly. taking of the fur coat he went down into the cantina placing salted meats, fruits and other goods he'd traded for inside. Refrigeration was still something he was working on, as well as getting the plumbing to work properly. It'd had taken him all year to set up the bases for both, the struggle making him wonder if giving away the gold had been worth it. Returning upstairs he lay on a couch and finally, drifted off to sleep.
The crunch of footsteps in the distance alerted the harpy, causing her to freeze in a momentary panic. 'Was whoever did this come to finish the job?' Her head whipped around in time to see a man take the fork in the road. She waited a few moments, her eyes and ears straining to catch any sight of any attack or approach. When there was none the tensed harpy let out her breath in relief. It wasn’t the culprit.
Atoli jumped to her feet in realization; 'There was likely a house nearby, maybe they could help! But the bleeding should be stopped first, and then…' Atoli frowned. She had never tried carry anyone before, and it would be a difficult task to lift the woman without causing more stress to her already injured body.
She took the dagger she had been heating and tossed it to the side to cool, opting to try to staunch the bleeding with the cloth instead, and with some effort, dragged the bandit off the road. She placed her bag on top of the cloth for added pressure and whispered, “I’ll be back, okay?” and ran off without waiting for a reply.
Atoli quickly took to the sky in the direction of where the man went, following the fork in the road and passing a creek and meadow. She began to worry she lost the trail until she saw lights come on in the distance. The harpy blinked at the sight; It looked more like a castle than a house in her eyes. The little harpy landed in front of the front door and pounded on the solid wood. “Hello? I need help! Oi!” She crowed out loudly.
Atoli jumped to her feet in realization; 'There was likely a house nearby, maybe they could help! But the bleeding should be stopped first, and then…' Atoli frowned. She had never tried carry anyone before, and it would be a difficult task to lift the woman without causing more stress to her already injured body.
She took the dagger she had been heating and tossed it to the side to cool, opting to try to staunch the bleeding with the cloth instead, and with some effort, dragged the bandit off the road. She placed her bag on top of the cloth for added pressure and whispered, “I’ll be back, okay?” and ran off without waiting for a reply.
Atoli quickly took to the sky in the direction of where the man went, following the fork in the road and passing a creek and meadow. She began to worry she lost the trail until she saw lights come on in the distance. The harpy blinked at the sight; It looked more like a castle than a house in her eyes. The little harpy landed in front of the front door and pounded on the solid wood. “Hello? I need help! Oi!” She crowed out loudly.
Something was banging on wood, something loud and obnoxious, suddenly followed by screeches that slowly evolved into words.
Quintus sat up his eyes opening as adrenaline pumped through his blood. Someone was at his door was all he could tell. Perhaps one of the villagers had come by late to trade? unlikely as the knocking was loud, almost anxious. He yelled out, "one minute!" before moving towards one of the storage rooms as his thoughts immediately went to the thought of a possible attack on the village. Quickly opening one of the lockers in the room he began attaching the missing sections of his body armor before rushing to the next room to grab his weapons, medical supplies and his attachable equipment pack. Running to the doors he opened it expecting a panicking villager, instead, a set of green eyes stared back more than likely just a shocked as he was. He'd never actually seen a harpy up close, but oddly enough they looked more human than some of the tales he was told by villagers at the tavern. Some his thoughts went to wondering if she would run, after all she probably wasn't expecting what she could only assume was a fully armored knight, then again making assumptions without evidence was pointless. Shaking free from his thoughts he spoke up, " uh, Good evening miss, do you need assistance? you were knocking pretty frantically..."
Quintus sat up his eyes opening as adrenaline pumped through his blood. Someone was at his door was all he could tell. Perhaps one of the villagers had come by late to trade? unlikely as the knocking was loud, almost anxious. He yelled out, "one minute!" before moving towards one of the storage rooms as his thoughts immediately went to the thought of a possible attack on the village. Quickly opening one of the lockers in the room he began attaching the missing sections of his body armor before rushing to the next room to grab his weapons, medical supplies and his attachable equipment pack. Running to the doors he opened it expecting a panicking villager, instead, a set of green eyes stared back more than likely just a shocked as he was. He'd never actually seen a harpy up close, but oddly enough they looked more human than some of the tales he was told by villagers at the tavern. Some his thoughts went to wondering if she would run, after all she probably wasn't expecting what she could only assume was a fully armored knight, then again making assumptions without evidence was pointless. Shaking free from his thoughts he spoke up, " uh, Good evening miss, do you need assistance? you were knocking pretty frantically..."
The harpy took a step back out of habit and stared up at the man’s face, her fists clenching and unclenching nervously. She hadn’t been expecting a fully suited knight to answer the door, but there wasn’t time to think about it.
“Yes. Will you help me? Well, not me. I mean I need your help, but not for me actually—“
The harpy’s words were rushed and a little stumbling. She wasn’t used to asking for anything. Her belief was usually if she needed or wanted something then she would simply take it. This was different…
“—There’s a woman out on the road that’s bleedin’ out and with an arrow in her.” She continued. “I don’t think I can help her alone, she’s in bad shape. I mean no tricks; I swear.” Atoli looked up him, her face open and earnest. It made her feel oddly vulnerable, but she had to try.
“Yes. Will you help me? Well, not me. I mean I need your help, but not for me actually—“
The harpy’s words were rushed and a little stumbling. She wasn’t used to asking for anything. Her belief was usually if she needed or wanted something then she would simply take it. This was different…
“—There’s a woman out on the road that’s bleedin’ out and with an arrow in her.” She continued. “I don’t think I can help her alone, she’s in bad shape. I mean no tricks; I swear.” Atoli looked up him, her face open and earnest. It made her feel oddly vulnerable, but she had to try.
'It's a good thing I already have the medical gear on me', thought Quintus as he nodded before responding, "Give me a second to grab a stretcher and then we can head out.". Returning inside he quickly retrieved a self made stretcher, easily assembled or disassembled, it might not have been perfect but he was proud of it. He went into the living room next clearing a table and placing gauze, tweezers and disinfectant on the table. Heading to the door he hurriedly placed his fur coat on and slipped on his helmet, the night vision activating once he was outside. Looking at the frantic girl he nodded and simply said, "lead the way" before following after her into the darkness.
Atoli eyed the man curiously but didn’t ask questions. As soon as he was back outside she flapped her wings hard and started to fly down the path. She glanced behind to be sure he could keep pace with her, sometimes slowing to be sure. His armor looked odd to her, she had never seen any of the like. Was he a special kind of knight?
When they arrived, the lamp was still on the ground as a marker, casting long shadows on the ground. Atoli landed swiftly, causing a stir of leaves to scatter around her as she did. The harpy crouched over the bandit and gently lifted her satchel from the woman’s wound which it had been covering. The bottom of it was spotted with red blotches that had seeped through the cloth. She stared intently at the other’s chest for signs of breath before looking back to the man. “You will be able to carry her, right?”
When they arrived, the lamp was still on the ground as a marker, casting long shadows on the ground. Atoli landed swiftly, causing a stir of leaves to scatter around her as she did. The harpy crouched over the bandit and gently lifted her satchel from the woman’s wound which it had been covering. The bottom of it was spotted with red blotches that had seeped through the cloth. She stared intently at the other’s chest for signs of breath before looking back to the man. “You will be able to carry her, right?”
Looking at the wounds carefully he came to the conclusion that she could be carried, though using the stretcher would ensure the arrowhead would not shuffle around much causing more damage. The question was whether or not the Harpy could help carry the weight. Kneeling down he looked at the depth of the stab wound before using the last of the bio-suture kit he'd had. He'd saved it for a special occasion and now seemed as good a time as any. Once it was sealed he opened a morphine injector and injected it into her blood stream, taking care to use very little, mostly to keep her from waking on the journey back. Finally he used a disinfectant spray on the main wounds before standing. Looking at the harpy he gave her a choice, "Alright we have two choices, depending on how capable you are. We can lay her on the stretcher, which will help keep her stable but it'll mean you, helping me, carry her all the way back. Option two, I can carry her alone but it'd take longer and the movement could agitate her wounds....you up to helping me carry her back?" he finished tilting his head slightly.
Atoli closely watched the man and his actions as he worked. She didn't recognize most of the tools that he used but identified that one of them was a needle syringe. But rather than take stuff out it put stuff inside. His steady and precise actions were enough to convince her he knew what he was doing, and when he told her she could aid in carrying she nodded.
"I can help. The quicker the better." She replied. With the man's help it likely wouldn't be a problem for the two, except for the height difference and how angled they might carry Iskra. For the rest of the duration of the journey to the house the harpy was compliant to the odd knight, for now.
"I can help. The quicker the better." She replied. With the man's help it likely wouldn't be a problem for the two, except for the height difference and how angled they might carry Iskra. For the rest of the duration of the journey to the house the harpy was compliant to the odd knight, for now.
Opening the door with one hand he eased his way inside the main entrance to his home before setting down the stretcher. Removing the coat he had placed on top of the wounded woman he placed it to the side before checking the wounds, ensuring they hadn't gotten worse. After ensuring they were stable he ran through his mental checklist before speaking up, "we can place her on a table I cleared in the living room, you think you can set her on the table on your own? its just down the hall, left of the kitchen".
Turning he made his way to his equipment room removing a sterile field generator, which still had enough for charge for three more uses before losing its effectiveness, and made his way back. Setting up the machine he gathered the medical equipment before looking at the harpy, "If she wakes during this I may need you to hold her down....are you ready?" he said. And then got to work.
Turning he made his way to his equipment room removing a sterile field generator, which still had enough for charge for three more uses before losing its effectiveness, and made his way back. Setting up the machine he gathered the medical equipment before looking at the harpy, "If she wakes during this I may need you to hold her down....are you ready?" he said. And then got to work.
"Uh... yeah..." She murmured as he turned away. She looked down at the bandit and tried valiantly to lift her like a prince would for a maiden. The harpy huffed with effort, her legs straining, and with just as much effort she had to carefully place her back on the stretcher. She ended up just dragging her down the hallway instead.
Atoli gulped in a breath and lifted her once more with all the effort she could, barely enough to put her onto the table before the knight arrived. Her chest heaving and green eyes fiery. When he mentioned holding her down she needed no further encouragement and clambered onto the table so she can hold the woman's arms down comfortably. The harpy looked about at the blue glow of the odd magic the knight used curiously. "...Ready."
Atoli gulped in a breath and lifted her once more with all the effort she could, barely enough to put her onto the table before the knight arrived. Her chest heaving and green eyes fiery. When he mentioned holding her down she needed no further encouragement and clambered onto the table so she can hold the woman's arms down comfortably. The harpy looked about at the blue glow of the odd magic the knight used curiously. "...Ready."
Having removed the arrowhead Quintus began stitching the entrance wound closed, taking his time so as to make sure it was properly sealed up before rubbing it with an antiseptic cream that would keep the area from infecting, it'd last at least a day, enough to ensure the healing process would begin with little possibility for infection. Applying some to the stab wound he began looking at her minor wounds, cuts and scrapes could be fixed with band-aids, peroxide or iodide. The bruises, though nasty looking would go away on their own. Finally he looked at the rope burn around her neck, considering she had been breathing fine it was likely that little internal damage had occurred, but just in case he opened her mouth, looking for any traces of blood or obstructions, finding nothing really out of the ordinary he began about setting her neck in a brace, just in case.
Finishing up he thanked the Harpy woman for her aid before moving into the kitchen, returning he set down two coffee's and a few sweets the villagers had gifted them, carrying them over to the Harpy.
"here, it'll warm you up and help keep you awake" he said before taking a sip and sitting on a nearby chair...
"Now, what happened to both of you?" he asked, expecting to hear how her friend had ended up in such a wounded state.
Finishing up he thanked the Harpy woman for her aid before moving into the kitchen, returning he set down two coffee's and a few sweets the villagers had gifted them, carrying them over to the Harpy.
"here, it'll warm you up and help keep you awake" he said before taking a sip and sitting on a nearby chair...
"Now, what happened to both of you?" he asked, expecting to hear how her friend had ended up in such a wounded state.
“Knights...”
The slurred voice from the table called out calmly, her pale eyes gazing unfocused to the ceiling. She was awake, and had been for some time. Something about the two strangers, especially the one treating her, made her remain silent and limp until they had moved away though. Perhaps suspicion, of what they wanted from helping her. Or perhaps, she herself had more devious reasons for failing to make her consciousness known. Either way, it was obvious she was awake now.
Iskra would’ve panicked at this new environment, had she not still felt sluggish and pained. But the pain was certainly easier than it had been before. But Iskra always had a high pain tolerance; though it hurt, it wasn’t clear on her face. Her thin fingers moved up slowly to grasp the brace around her neck, her eyebrows furrowing a bit at it; she gave a gentle tug, but placed her arm back down to her side and shut her eyes again. With a hoarse voice, she called out, “Who do...I owe my zanks to, strangers?” A slight accent, once again another sign of her northern origins. It was something Iskra usually kept hidden, though she lacked the energy to bother masking it as she did regularly.
The slurred voice from the table called out calmly, her pale eyes gazing unfocused to the ceiling. She was awake, and had been for some time. Something about the two strangers, especially the one treating her, made her remain silent and limp until they had moved away though. Perhaps suspicion, of what they wanted from helping her. Or perhaps, she herself had more devious reasons for failing to make her consciousness known. Either way, it was obvious she was awake now.
Iskra would’ve panicked at this new environment, had she not still felt sluggish and pained. But the pain was certainly easier than it had been before. But Iskra always had a high pain tolerance; though it hurt, it wasn’t clear on her face. Her thin fingers moved up slowly to grasp the brace around her neck, her eyebrows furrowing a bit at it; she gave a gentle tug, but placed her arm back down to her side and shut her eyes again. With a hoarse voice, she called out, “Who do...I owe my zanks to, strangers?” A slight accent, once again another sign of her northern origins. It was something Iskra usually kept hidden, though she lacked the energy to bother masking it as she did regularly.
The harpy watched as he performed his healing on the bandit, entranced. When he finished, she took her hands away from Iskra’s arms and sat back, still on the table. She took the candies and drink that he set by her, and sniffed at the beverage. “Smells like hot dirt…but… thanks.” She mumbled quietly, thankful that he had come to her aid.
“And I’m not sure. I was—“ , she had started to say before Iskra spoke up. Atoli leaned forward to look the woman in the face, her green eyes peering down at her. “Hullo. The name is Atoli.” The harpy girl said simply, and paused to glance up to the man to also let him see she also introduced herself to him as well.
She scratched her neck feathers with her free hand idly as she inspected Iskra before looking back to Quintus and asking, “That must've been some powerful magic you worked. What’s the thing on her neck do?”, before taking a sip of the drink. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and tried to sneakily spit it back into the cup. She ate the candies quickly afterwards and set the mug far away.
“And I’m not sure. I was—“ , she had started to say before Iskra spoke up. Atoli leaned forward to look the woman in the face, her green eyes peering down at her. “Hullo. The name is Atoli.” The harpy girl said simply, and paused to glance up to the man to also let him see she also introduced herself to him as well.
She scratched her neck feathers with her free hand idly as she inspected Iskra before looking back to Quintus and asking, “That must've been some powerful magic you worked. What’s the thing on her neck do?”, before taking a sip of the drink. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and tried to sneakily spit it back into the cup. She ate the candies quickly afterwards and set the mug far away.
Quintus grinned at the remark, he had to admit he hadn't heard someone say coffee smelled like dirt, then again this WAS coffee from his ration packs. Smiling he nodded, wishing he had managed to figure out refrigeration, it would've let him store milk for just such an occasion.
Listening as she began her explanation his curiosity was peaked at the answer that she was unsure, perhaps a surprise attack had befallen th- His thoughts were interrupted by the movement and hoarse voice of the woman he had just helped out. “Hullo. The name is Atoli.” The harpy girl replied simply, and paused to glance up at him waiting for a response, looking at both of them he reciprocated, " I'm Quintus, it's a pleasure to meet you both, wish it was under better circumstance though"
The bird girls next question had him reeling, managing to control it before it became to obvious he answered her, "It's a neck brace, helps support the patients neck and keeps her neck aligned with her body, it's not really necessary in this case but I wanted to be safe, I can't see the extent of the damage so I placed one around her neck to make sure she didn't move her neck around to fast and hurt herself"
Quintus smiled as he watched her nose wrinkle at the coffee but couldn't help going over what she had said. Magic, in all his time spent here and in the village he hadn't seen any magic, monsters, and the occasional rumor of mage's and such ...but he'd never actually thought it as an actual possibility. Shaking his head he considered that he might just be overreacting to her choice of words, after all, create fire in front of a caveman and he'd probably call you a god.
Looking over to his, patient, he went back to the kitchen, grabbed a cup and filled it with water, when he returned he offered it to the woman, "drink up, it'll help with the throat" he said, handing it to her before returning to his seat, curiosity peaking he looked at the Harp- err Atoli he corrected himself before saying, " so, you were explaining to me what happened...."
Listening as she began her explanation his curiosity was peaked at the answer that she was unsure, perhaps a surprise attack had befallen th- His thoughts were interrupted by the movement and hoarse voice of the woman he had just helped out. “Hullo. The name is Atoli.” The harpy girl replied simply, and paused to glance up at him waiting for a response, looking at both of them he reciprocated, " I'm Quintus, it's a pleasure to meet you both, wish it was under better circumstance though"
The bird girls next question had him reeling, managing to control it before it became to obvious he answered her, "It's a neck brace, helps support the patients neck and keeps her neck aligned with her body, it's not really necessary in this case but I wanted to be safe, I can't see the extent of the damage so I placed one around her neck to make sure she didn't move her neck around to fast and hurt herself"
Quintus smiled as he watched her nose wrinkle at the coffee but couldn't help going over what she had said. Magic, in all his time spent here and in the village he hadn't seen any magic, monsters, and the occasional rumor of mage's and such ...but he'd never actually thought it as an actual possibility. Shaking his head he considered that he might just be overreacting to her choice of words, after all, create fire in front of a caveman and he'd probably call you a god.
Looking over to his, patient, he went back to the kitchen, grabbed a cup and filled it with water, when he returned he offered it to the woman, "drink up, it'll help with the throat" he said, handing it to her before returning to his seat, curiosity peaking he looked at the Harp- err Atoli he corrected himself before saying, " so, you were explaining to me what happened...."
Iskra was sitting slowly, and stared suspiciously at the water, and the strange....knight? Yes, with such odd looking armor, he was probably a knight. She took the water and felt around the neck brace, until she found the small tab which she could only assume connected the pieces, and released it; she pulled the brace off and let out a pained sigh, her body still sore and aching.
The woman didn't speak further, though she did drink the water (after much hesitation), and began to inspect the stitches on her side where he had pulled the arrowhead from her. Iskra gazed at the other wounds, but eventually she just went back to her silence, watching the two who had helped her.
She wondered if they knew who she was; the harpy, possibly, but this strange man? She had a feeling he would not have been so willing to help. Truthfully, letting Iskra die would have been a good way to end quite a bit of trouble. Now? The Bandit King was on her way to healing, and indebted to these two. What a wonderful situation to be in.
The woman didn't speak further, though she did drink the water (after much hesitation), and began to inspect the stitches on her side where he had pulled the arrowhead from her. Iskra gazed at the other wounds, but eventually she just went back to her silence, watching the two who had helped her.
She wondered if they knew who she was; the harpy, possibly, but this strange man? She had a feeling he would not have been so willing to help. Truthfully, letting Iskra die would have been a good way to end quite a bit of trouble. Now? The Bandit King was on her way to healing, and indebted to these two. What a wonderful situation to be in.
Atoli sat up straight when Iskra did and nodded to Quintus when he introduced himself, listening to his explanation of the neck brace. “I dunno. I was going about my business when I found this one here laying on the road.” She motioned at Iskra, “Being the stand-up-citizen that I am, I took it upon myself to help a fellow…traveler in need.” The creature sat up a little straighter, and her feathers fluffed in a proud kind of manner as if her good deeds were deserving of praise. They settled once more when she scooted closer to the woman, still both sitting on the table.
She leaned in close to Iskra then, giving her a knowing look. “Someone must not like you. Leaving you bleeding out and with an arrow in your gut like they did; How’d that happen?” She asked, though the expression in her eyes said she already had an inkling as to why. She knew what Iskra was. Being a bandit, and one with a sigil that stood out as it did, was an easy way to get lynched. Atoli reached out to her and went to pat the woman’s back. “Of course, if it’s too traumatic for you to tell, you don’t need to. Whatever happened, I couldn't just leave you there to die.” She said, this time no smile appeared on her face.
The harpy’s eyes traveled back to the knight to stare back at him unabashedly. She licked her lips; the taste of candy still on her tongue. “And just what are you, kind sir? A knight, a healer, some kind of sorcerer?” She paused for a moment, considering, “And what would you like in return for your generosity?”
She leaned in close to Iskra then, giving her a knowing look. “Someone must not like you. Leaving you bleeding out and with an arrow in your gut like they did; How’d that happen?” She asked, though the expression in her eyes said she already had an inkling as to why. She knew what Iskra was. Being a bandit, and one with a sigil that stood out as it did, was an easy way to get lynched. Atoli reached out to her and went to pat the woman’s back. “Of course, if it’s too traumatic for you to tell, you don’t need to. Whatever happened, I couldn't just leave you there to die.” She said, this time no smile appeared on her face.
The harpy’s eyes traveled back to the knight to stare back at him unabashedly. She licked her lips; the taste of candy still on her tongue. “And just what are you, kind sir? A knight, a healer, some kind of sorcerer?” She paused for a moment, considering, “And what would you like in return for your generosity?”
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