To Con the Con-man

[Herobizkit]

Tio looks at the fallen men with exasperation. What the hell am I going to do? I'm not trained in healing...

Well, first things first... gotta find some bandages, or some clean cloth, or something...

OOC: Try the Heal skill anyway; attempt to stabilize them, using whatever materials are at hand.

 

[HolyMan]

OCC: Alex was already stable so I used your second roll for Alden. He loses one more HP before Tio stabilizes him.

Tio believes he has done all he can. He knows they won't die of their wounds but those gnolls may come back.

But how is he to get two full men back to Rem where they can be help.

"......."

 

[HolyMan]

OCC: bump for HB

 

[Herobizkit]

Tio examines his handiwork, crude as it is.

It looks as though you may yet live, stranger. But how to get these men safely back to camp...?

Tio's head snaps around as he hears a whinny from the underbrush.

A horse? What luck!

Tio carefully approaches the horse, not wishing to spook it. Ne notices that the horse bears a bit and bridle.

Hm... he must belong to one of these men.

Tio gently reaches for the horse's reins. Once in hand, he leads the horse to the fallen strangers. Tio then lifts the the unconscious bodies and slumps them over the horse's back.

It appears that Death will have to wait for these two. Praise to the Proctor for their good fortune.

With the two strangers and a new horse in tow, Tio swiftly returns to camp and begins seeking aid for the injured.

 

[HolyMan]

Tio hurriedly gets the two wounded men back to town. He goes straight to the inn he and the other delegates he is with are staying at, The Wandering Waif.

One of the stable-hands helps him get the two men down and layed out in some hay in one of the stalls. As the stable-hand watches the two men Tio bolts into the inn to find Padre Gole.

The old man is right where he has been for most of the groups stay, before the warm hearth dozing. After quick explanations and a long wait while the old man walked to stables Padre Gole healed both the young men bringing them back to consciousness.

[sblock=OOC] Current stats when you wake up is laying in a stall full of hay. Stable-hand, Padre Gole and Tio in attendance.

And Zerith if you wish details right them in yourself to add the flavor you wish. Herobizkit said he used whatever was on hand. If you wish more detail have Alex notice whatever the "close to hand" was. And go from there.[/sblock]

 

[Axel]

With a sudden intake of breath, Alden found himself awake. His eyes fly open, quickly taking in the strange surroundings. In particular the old man leaning over him.

"Who are you and where am I?" he asks suspiciously, sitting up suddenly.

Why don't my arm and leg hurt anymore...my head still hurts?! Where have the demon-cats and those bastard dogs gone? If I EVER catch Poo-Breath he'll be sorry...

With the better view granted from sitting up, Alden catches sight of two others behind the old man.

"And who are you?" he adds, directing the question at the younger men while testing his weight on what was his wounded leg. The weight of the dagger in his boot was reassuring more than annoying, for the first time since he put it there.

 

[Zerith]

While lifting Alexander onto the horse, or down from it Tio likely noticed that Alexander was lighter then he looked, further, when grabbed, Alexander’s clothing compressed more then was normal; it was then obvious that Alexander was very thin, perhaps not sickly so but definitely far thinner than is normal.
His appearance was made more proportionate by his cloths, that puffed his appearance out to the point that it was normal.

When he awoke he mumbled something lowly while sitting up and instinctively grabbing at the taters on his chest were his wound was; it was wholly gone and then looking around while Alden reacted to being rescued.

‘How, undignified…’ Alexander thought while removing the excess hay from his hair as Alden talked. He glanced a bored and golden eyed stare briefly at Alden, not very impressed by the sudden exuberance, they were in the stables, not were captives would be. Alexander raised his left eyebrow and looked about. The two of them were most definitely not captives.

Alexander thought about talking but, undignified or not, Alden did more or less ask what was needed for the moment, and so Alexander took the moment to further examine just how ruined his cloths were. He was going to have to have them, properly, mended latter, as he doubted he could hind proper replacements from them.

 

[Herobizkit]

Tio blinked once, then burst into a wide grin at Alden's sudden stammering. "Do not worry yourself so, friend. You are safe."

A large man of over six feet stands before you. His gold locks are cropped short and parted neatly down the middle, allowing a pleasant view of his blue eyes; icy in color, but clearly warm in demeanor. A well-groomed goatee covers his chin, a chin that has seen barely eighteen summers.

He wears the clothes of a man who wishes to appear prepared for all possibilities on the open road, though much of his wardrobe is covered in a scaly suit of armor. He carries an assortment of weapons staggered about his body, most notably the trio of daggers strapped neatly about his upper thigh. A longsword is sheathed behind a wooden shield on his back, and a large pouch suggests a collection of bullets for a simple sling.

He stands slightly crooked, favoring his right leg.

"My proper name is Tiagio Anangale [tee-AH-gee-oh ANN-un-GAH-lay], but should you wish to become my friend, you may call me Tio."

 

[HolyMan]

"And I am Padre Gole. Tio brought you to me for healing. By your wounds I say you were both mauled by a dire cat of some sort." He puts up a hand before any explanations can be made. "I don't want to know. My adventuring days are way behind me. Maybe Tio would like to hear your story though, least you could do seeing as how he saved your lives and all."

The padre heads out of the stables mumbling something about returning to his comfortable chair.

 

[Axel]

Judging the situation to not warrant fighting, particularly given his recently demonstrated prowess and current lack of a proper weapon, Alden opts for the diplomatic route...

"Well met Tio. Padre Gole is right - we were bound for Rem when we were set upon by four demon-cats. They screamed so loudly and painfully that our horses could not stand it, making us easily outclassed on foot."

Alden steps forward, happy to feel his leg working properly. His left arm runs along his right forearm, feeling for any lasting damage, before he holds out his right hand to Tio with an impish grin. "Alden Jahl is my right name, but most who know me well call me Al or AJ according to their preference. I owe you my thanks, and my life. Without your efforts I dare say I'd be a good deal less comfortable than now. Now I like a good story as well as the next man and would dearly like to hear how you chased off the last demon-cat in exchange for how we came to be on the road to Rem. Is there somewhere more comfortable nearby? Perhaps with food, and something to drink. Come to think of it, what is nearby? Where is here? I'd be happy to be anywhere above the nine hells, so don't be shy."