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The entry way to the castle, heavily guarded, only those with permission may enter.

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"Alright alright! set'l down! set'l down!"
A guard shouts out over the small crowd gathered in front of the castle gates. The draw bridge raised, revealing the small mote around the castle walls, guards dot every raised structure in sight, keeping a watchful gaze over the event and the city below.

"As y'all know, you've been summoned 'ere by the the queens 'emselves! So as is customary, it befalls the lo' of you to be on yeh' best be'avior." The large man continues with his clearly lacking vocabulary education. "We won't be tolera'in no nonsense beyond this 'ere point. Got that chums?"

A few of the adventurers in the crowd nod, others murmer and mutter to each other, which comes together to build an air of agreement. "Aiight, sounds good then, dunnit? let's get going then!" The metal-covered man beckons everyone to follow as the draw bridge drops, bridging the gap between being on city streets, and castle grounds...

(continued in The Grand Hall.)
At this point, many adventurers had made their way out of the castle and into the street from the gate. There were excited men yelling about the breads, cloths and wares they were selling, trying to get the attention of all the new people in town.

Through the commotion, one voice could be heard above the others. "Help! There's an injured man down there!" A female yells over the top of the crowd, drawing the attention of all outside to the entrance to the city, easily visible from the raised street just outside the castle. There walks a man, bleeding and broken he walks with a heavy limp, holding his gut and covered head to toe in blood. From this distance it's impossible to hear what he says to those approaching him, but it does not look good...
"Hmm Let's see..." A steady jogging Concord bounced into the commercial commotion, blind to the waves and shouts beckoning for his coin, or whatever lack there of. In one hand he still held the hammer while both laid a finely unfolded map of "Orasio" to obscure his entire view. It depicted a crude set of stick-things which might be trees directly west, a set of curvaceous mounds to the east and a thick stack of lines which may be dead trees but could also be anything, really. They were labelled something in chicken-scratch which looked menacing enough to perhaps be called the Deadlands. But before he could determine whether the compass' "N" was or was not a haphazard "W", a crying maiden called for his attention.

Concord jogged in place a bit, worried he'd arrived at the battlefield so soon. The glob of walking scarlet was a hint that might be half true. He stuffed his map away and ran over to join the growing circle of spectators converging on the horrid sight. He waded through, curious as any other over such a morbid sight.
The commotion near the gates was large. Body’s of people gathering with voice as well as numbers. This made Zhoralel qurious as he stepped out and came towards the crowd, “What seemed to be happening?” He tried to ask citizens as he neared the crowd. Though none seemed to know the full details, many mumbling about a man and woman. Others believed they heard the scream of a woman. Of course this gave Zhoralel little info.

Ultimately he waded through the crowd to find the man covered in blood. Zhoralel’s brows raised at the sight before him, “well that’s new.” He reaches out to support the limping man along with another citizen. “Young Mage, some assistance!” Zhoralel cried out as they moved the man to flater area. He was no stranger to blood while it seeped into his clothes and covered his hands.
James had filed out with Zhoralel, but as the man disappeared into the crowd he remained where he was till he heard the man shout for, what James thought was him.

He somewhat pushed his way through the crowd, to make his way to Zhoralel, speaking calmly as he could after seeing the injured man that was being supported. "What can I do to help. I don't know any healing magic unless... Hey! Is there any clerics around?" James shouted into the crowd.
“No time, he’s not just bleeding cause of the gash.” Zhoralel was quick to place his hand on the mans open wound aplying pressure. Sure enough he could feel that not just cloth but light chain mail was torn through. But Zhoralel could feel more was wrong. “Broken femur, internal bleeding, fractured ribs, how the hell did you get back here?” Zhoralel looked at the kid, “Get your hands dirty. Put pressure right here but don’t lean on him.”

Zhoralel removed his hands from the wound to tear more of the fabric away to expose the puncture. It was almost four inches long and three deep. Zhoralel reaches behind his robes to pull out a leather bag. He fumbled around in it till he pulled out a bottle of liquor. He began to pour it over his hands and the wound of the man. He left enough of the liquor to use again later. “Cony, concert, what ever your name is I need you too.”
"D-dah, it's..." Concord stammered at his natural need to proclaim his title, before ultimately trailing off. "Nevermind."

The tall figure went forward to join the robed ones in their attempt at saving a life. It was surprising on many levels to see what he'd written off so easily as a feeble old man seemed so in control of the situation. Concord could only really follow where his gloves were guided by Zhoralel and pinch close a waning trickle of blood. Easy enough, if he was doing it correctly at all. Concord's teeth chattered and grinded, much for his nerves and much for his general uselessness. It gave way to a need for answers.

"What roughed you up so well, friend? He s-sure did a number on ya!" He strained out a chuckle.
James seemed overall unfazed by the wounds of the man, letting out a huff of determination he moved down, assisting as he had been directed to, noting Concord's help as well. It would have been very much needed without a cleric or something similar.

"Okay, keep pressure... What are you going to do Zhoralel? While Concord and I can keep pressure I hope you have a plan."
Zhoralel glanced up to the mess of scarves and cloaks with a half annoyed glare. Sure enough Concord was doing the job perfectly. Zhoralel was more worried about stopping the bleeding and keeping the man alive.

“Good question boy, I need to do a blood transfusion. But we don’t have time to find someone related to him, nor prep them for the transfusion.” Instead Zhoralel reaches his hands into the dust of the street. The sound of energy crackled in his fingers. Small arcs of electricity illuminated the ground as the handful of dust he grabbed transmuted into a thin, clear, glass tube.

“In the mean time I’m going to get him to breath. Hold him still.”with ginger fingers Zhoralel pressed along he mans chest feeling the swollen area. Once he found his mark Zhoralel was merciless as he sunk the tube in the bloody messes chest. Sure he had to puncture the fabric and mail the man wore for the tool to work. A small whistle came out of the tube, causing his chest to descend. “James I need water.” Zhoralel’s eyes seemed to be glowing brighter now, his powers flowing through him as he had so previously shown.
With a quick understanding nod James took one of his hands off, closing his eyes. Slowly small ice cubes started to form, melting one by one into what looked like a canteen made of ice that had formed in the hand that James took off of the man's wound. "Will this be sufficient? Its cold water, but I don't normally carry around water with me so its all I have."

He offered the canteen of ice water to Zhoralel. He didn't have to carry any sort of canteen or water storage because he could freeze the water in the air for his own needs. It was rather effective for his own needs.
Zhoralel looked up to see the water being formed from the air they were breathing. Quite a useful trick James knew, it made Zhoralel realize how lazily he might have done something similar. He took the water and began to transmute it. Sure enough the clear liquid slowly turned crimson under Zhoralel’s magic. “Iron rich cells,” he whispered under his breath.

Zhoralel’s eyes saught through the blood he had created as it floated before his eyes. His hands waved about turning the newly formed blood through the air inspecting all of it. His pupils enlarging and shrinking, once he saw what he wanted he pooled the blood around his fingertips. “Now for the hard part.” He looked at the two adventurers who helped him. “Making sure he keeps all this inside him.”
"Uh... O-Okay. I'll do my best." James replied, preparing himself both physically and mentally. He may not have seemed to have been fazed, but internally it was the first time he had ever come across something like this.

He made note of the way Zhoralel used magic, it was bizarre and foreign to him. Another time, he thought to himself, We'll ask another time, we have more pressing matters at hand. And it was true, he now had to focus on the request, although unsure entirely by what he had meant, he wasn't going to just let the man die on him. Not while he could still help.
The situation wasn’t stressful in any way, at least that was how it seemed to Zhoralel. A mysterious man with mysterious magic, but surely his intentions were good. His mind raced through probabilities and possibilities as he contemplated an effective means to save the mans life. That was until he glanced back at James. There before him was his answer.Zhoralels confidence in the boy, which was high, only ascended further as he thought of a new variable to his ever expanding equations. “James, once I get this blood back into his body I need you to freeze the wound shut. But only enough to close the wound, not freeze him to death.”

Zhoralel believed his plan would succeed, though it would prove to be an excellent challenge for the young mage. Zhoralel would maybe even get to see how much restraint over his powers the boy truely had. With a quick glance and a steady hand Zhoralel plunged his fingertips, two to be precise, into the mans exposed arm. Like a syringe the newly formed blood pushed its way into his veins until nothing was left to apply. “Go now, before he looses it all.” Zhoralel returned his gaze to the boy to see if he could handle the task.

((Sorry it’s so late.))
James blinked by the sudden request and reliance on his skills. He tensed for a brief moment, gathering his thoughts to not be distracted. He felt the tips of his fingers become like pins and needles, readying himself.

As soon as he was told to James started using his magic. He gently set a hand on the wound, ice freezing over almost instantly. Once a single, thin layer of ice had formed he held his hand higher, a second sheet of ice freezing over. With such, the wound was sealed, but would recover while underneath the ice. A slight issue would be the fact that the ice would take considerable more time to melt than normal ice, but it should have been okay given the man's condition.

"Did I... Did we... Did we do it?" He asked, a hint of enthusiasm in his voice, feeling proud of himself at completing and helping such a task.

((Its fine, life can get in the way, etc. etc. I know my post is kinda late too.))