Mal's world faded to black, the tainted drink finally taking its full toll. His weight was dead and heavy, a limp burden that made every step a struggle, but they finally emerged onto the wider street, a little breathless.
A carriage pulled up, the horses snorting in the cool night air. The door swung open with some force, and out stepped Bhaal. His stern face reflected both concern and annoyance as he took in the sight of the three men. Mal, unconscious and unresponsive, was the focus of his immediate attention. Bhaal stretched out a hand to lift Mal’s chin, magic swiftly seeping into the unconscious youth without hesitation.
After a moment appraising Mal’s condition the old soldier tutted, “Almonds,” and with a stiff nod to the driver, Bhaal ordered, "Take Malachai and put him inside."
The driver moved swiftly, dropping down from his seat to approach them, and taking Mal from the two younger men would carefully settle him into the carriage. Bhaal turned to Tiberius and Enzo, his expression softening slightly. "Tiberius, Enzo. You should both head home," he instructed firmly, eyeing Enzo curiously. "Mal will be fine. His allergy to almonds is mild, but whatever you’ve been drinking didn’t help matters. Go home. Preferably before he,” gesturing to Enzo, “catches a chill. Try not to flash anyone either."
As the carriage door closed, signalling their friends' safety, Bhaal prepared to join Mal inside, casting one last glance at the two young men. "Take care of yourselves," he said, his tone carrying the weight of a fatherly admonition. "And be more cautious in the future. If something is too much of a good thing, it’s usually got strings, or a nice knife waiting for a gullible neck."
With all said and done, his charge retrieved Bhaal had the carriage rumble off, carrying their friend homeward. He’d perhaps reach out the next day, or in the days after to make sense of how he’d made it home, how he’d earned some deep scratches in his arms. Even if the night was foggy, there was the complete belief that it was mostly Enzo’s fault and no-one would convince Mal otherwise.
@Tiberius Umbra
@Enzo Pavus
A carriage pulled up, the horses snorting in the cool night air. The door swung open with some force, and out stepped Bhaal. His stern face reflected both concern and annoyance as he took in the sight of the three men. Mal, unconscious and unresponsive, was the focus of his immediate attention. Bhaal stretched out a hand to lift Mal’s chin, magic swiftly seeping into the unconscious youth without hesitation.
After a moment appraising Mal’s condition the old soldier tutted, “Almonds,” and with a stiff nod to the driver, Bhaal ordered, "Take Malachai and put him inside."
The driver moved swiftly, dropping down from his seat to approach them, and taking Mal from the two younger men would carefully settle him into the carriage. Bhaal turned to Tiberius and Enzo, his expression softening slightly. "Tiberius, Enzo. You should both head home," he instructed firmly, eyeing Enzo curiously. "Mal will be fine. His allergy to almonds is mild, but whatever you’ve been drinking didn’t help matters. Go home. Preferably before he,” gesturing to Enzo, “catches a chill. Try not to flash anyone either."
As the carriage door closed, signalling their friends' safety, Bhaal prepared to join Mal inside, casting one last glance at the two young men. "Take care of yourselves," he said, his tone carrying the weight of a fatherly admonition. "And be more cautious in the future. If something is too much of a good thing, it’s usually got strings, or a nice knife waiting for a gullible neck."
With all said and done, his charge retrieved Bhaal had the carriage rumble off, carrying their friend homeward. He’d perhaps reach out the next day, or in the days after to make sense of how he’d made it home, how he’d earned some deep scratches in his arms. Even if the night was foggy, there was the complete belief that it was mostly Enzo’s fault and no-one would convince Mal otherwise.
@Tiberius Umbra
@Enzo Pavus
08-03-2024, 03:00 PM
