“Maker’s balls, Genthus.” Esme stood over the injured dwarf mercenary, half stunned. A fall from Qunari breast height wouldn’t do Karvil any favors – but Genthus was far too busy with the fighting to hear or respond. She dropped to her knees, hands searching the dwarf’s hair for head wounds. Luca shielded them both, his left arm hanging nerveless.
Karvil’s armor was bulky and gory everywhere, though bloody spit gave her a good clue. Her fingers skimmed his front, finding the second, a broken thorn. Not good. Lungs or stomach and neither a favorable place to push an arrow through. She tipped forward onto her hands and knees, hair falling in a crimson veil over Karvil’s body as she listened to his breathing.
The dwarf rumbled something rude to Luca about the view, voice catching and whistling and very wet. Lung for sure. Esme sat up and helped Karvil drink a potion, a pearly white concoction in a fat round bottle. It eased his shallow breathing almost immediately. The fight seemed all but over, quiet except for the cries of dying men and horses,
“I can’t do anything else for him lying in the dirt. Help me move him, then get that armor off.” Between herself and Luca and the other warrior, Alred, they brought Karvil to the wagon. Esme set about lighting as many candles as she could find, tools soaking in a leather jack of alcohol. Alred left to assist with the other work – Luca stayed, glassy with pain but attentive enough. An extra hand as she set to work.
“Have you seen Ceren at all?” She asked, after some time.
"No ma'am."
Karvil’s armor was bulky and gory everywhere, though bloody spit gave her a good clue. Her fingers skimmed his front, finding the second, a broken thorn. Not good. Lungs or stomach and neither a favorable place to push an arrow through. She tipped forward onto her hands and knees, hair falling in a crimson veil over Karvil’s body as she listened to his breathing.
The dwarf rumbled something rude to Luca about the view, voice catching and whistling and very wet. Lung for sure. Esme sat up and helped Karvil drink a potion, a pearly white concoction in a fat round bottle. It eased his shallow breathing almost immediately. The fight seemed all but over, quiet except for the cries of dying men and horses,
“I can’t do anything else for him lying in the dirt. Help me move him, then get that armor off.” Between herself and Luca and the other warrior, Alred, they brought Karvil to the wagon. Esme set about lighting as many candles as she could find, tools soaking in a leather jack of alcohol. Alred left to assist with the other work – Luca stayed, glassy with pain but attentive enough. An extra hand as she set to work.
“Have you seen Ceren at all?” She asked, after some time.
"No ma'am."
05-07-2024, 06:57 PM
