Capaablanca
Master of Ceremonies
When Vox came to the first thing he noticed was the slain dragon some fifteen yards away. It was an awesome sight, the great beast was battered and bloody, with a longsword protruding from the top of its skull; and the breath of its final roar etched onto its mangled face. The second thing was the pain. The whole right side of his body seemed to want to separate from him completely. Hesitantly, he looked down at his shoulder and grimaced. His entire right arm was hanging limply at his side, a good three inches lower than it would be naturally. Dislocated. He had received some medical instruction at the monastery so he knew that it would be difficult to relocate it by himself. On cue, the man with the blue aura from earlier descended, and strode towards him. He was muscular, and his skin was tanned bronze from exposure to the sun. His hair was the color of moon beams, and he wielded a bow with a sword sheathed in his side.
"I can help you with that, but its going to hurt." He said.
Vox looked up at him and replied;
"It'd be too easy if it didn't." And pivoted the useless arm towards the man. He grabbed it at the elbow and wrist and began to lift slowly, all while pulling the arm out with steady pressure. There was a brief period of mounting pain, and then instant relief as the arm snapped back into place with a sickening THUNK. Vox touched the now relocated joint gingerly. It was quite sore, but nowhere near how painful it had been before. The man that helped him was suggesting making a sling, when a muffled cry for help rung out. Reflexively, Vox got to his feet but staggered under the accumulated weight of countless minor injuries. He sagged against the wall behind him and said;
"I just need to catch my breath, leave me."
He didn't like being in this weakened state amongst all these mysterious strangers. He felt like an injured animal whose instinct would to be run, hide, and lick its wounds. This was foolish of course, if these people meant him harm they had plenty of opportunities to do so in the confusion of the battle. Still, if they were going to investigate the cry, he was in no fit state to accompany them. He simply leaned his head back a closed his eyes, content to let someone else deal with the situation whatever it may have been. It had been enough that he had run at a dragon without a weapon, there would be no more heroics from him today.
"I can help you with that, but its going to hurt." He said.
Vox looked up at him and replied;
"It'd be too easy if it didn't." And pivoted the useless arm towards the man. He grabbed it at the elbow and wrist and began to lift slowly, all while pulling the arm out with steady pressure. There was a brief period of mounting pain, and then instant relief as the arm snapped back into place with a sickening THUNK. Vox touched the now relocated joint gingerly. It was quite sore, but nowhere near how painful it had been before. The man that helped him was suggesting making a sling, when a muffled cry for help rung out. Reflexively, Vox got to his feet but staggered under the accumulated weight of countless minor injuries. He sagged against the wall behind him and said;
"I just need to catch my breath, leave me."
He didn't like being in this weakened state amongst all these mysterious strangers. He felt like an injured animal whose instinct would to be run, hide, and lick its wounds. This was foolish of course, if these people meant him harm they had plenty of opportunities to do so in the confusion of the battle. Still, if they were going to investigate the cry, he was in no fit state to accompany them. He simply leaned his head back a closed his eyes, content to let someone else deal with the situation whatever it may have been. It had been enough that he had run at a dragon without a weapon, there would be no more heroics from him today.