SS - Rise of a Combat Medic

[18:01] {NARRATION} For weeks now, the storm from the mountain had been steadily descending. Merchant caravans vanished, panicked survivors rushing into town, madness in their eyes, speaking of horrors and acidic rain, of nature turning against them, of the very ground denying human presence.

It was a tide that finally reached the city of Dawn, black clouds lazily rolling over, thunder crashing within their depths. The rain came, black tar-like gunk, clogging drains, hissing when it impacted wood and stone. Like lemon on a cut, it burned to the touch, leaving terrible rashes on unprotected skin, perhaps hinting to the terrible nature of its being.

A howl unlike any pack creature echoed through the city, snarling, bestial. Creatures just out of view began to pour down, their forms shrouded by murky vapors that choked the lungs, dragging it with them like the reaping of the damned. Little scourges, servile things, loped ahead on two legs or six, some with wings, others slithering on an innumerable number of limbs or somehow floating above it all.

And in it all, two figures directing the horde. One massive, bulging, its body distorted in terrible ways. Faces constantly press against fabric-thin skin, clawed limbs erupting, trying desperately to escape the prison of flesh that had been born for it, an unending and terrible mass more than any singular creature. Forward it went, bleeding the living of their life in terrible swipes of otherworldly claws.

And a soldier, far too massive, in ancient and ruined armor. The scholars among Dawn might recognize it as the armor of Bhaldraithe, twisted and warped to fit its terrible figure. It was not even as daunting as some of the larger scourges, and yet they bore a wide path around it, chittering violently when it grew too close. Other similar creatures followed behind it, not so much wearing the armor they'd stolen as having forced themselves inside it, shattering rivets and chain.

The stench was horrible, a foul wind dragging it in. A screech suddenly erupted upon that wind, a face making itself visible, humanoid, lacking a nose, lacking lips, only a gaping, toothless mouth and red pulsating eyes. For the briefest of moments, its form became physical, a wraith of the wind, before blowing through ahead of the pack, through a home, screeching again.

Make that three figures.

[18:02] Sophia Song stands proud, green eyes burning with reika, the flames of Azrael's heritage rising all around her as she reached behind her to grip the leather wrapped nyeshk hilt of her massive sword. Upon the very bottom of the pommel lays the maker's mark, a volcano surrounded by five tiki skulls. On the center of the cross-guard is a hummingbird. As she pulls the weapon over her body in her right hand, runes of Huitzilopochtli can be seen all along the blade, glowing green with her power as she brought it down in front of her, and drew the golden ornate hilt of a saber off her hip. This weapon had Song engraved on the cross-guard, and a butterfly on the blade. The same emblem that stood out on the shoulder of her purple hue, adamantite chestplate. This mythril blade too had runes of Sheng origin that glowed green.

Her pristine white cloak flowing behind her in the wind, wet in the dark rain, she squared up on the shoulder of her companion to face the enemy. The flames of reika around her started to collect on her shoulder blades, stretching out behind her as they shaped into thick wings. She crouched and then kicked up into the air as those wings beat down, blowing the cloaks and capes of those around her as she rose over the battlefield. She shouted, "Glory to Azrael!"
(Sophia Song)
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[18:30] Soaring above the battle on burning green wings, Sophia Song holds both of her swords to her sides. Dawn’s Truth, the nyeshk blade empowered with Huitzilopochtli Rune glowing green with her power is the first to be brought around in a strike as she dives into the fray screaming a battle cry.
(Sophia Song)
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[19:31] {NARRATION} With every creature that died, a burst came, a scream, a powerful wail. By now, buildings had begun to sad, stone bubbled and melted under the acidic rain. Those soldiers that hadn't sought shelter would find their armor and clothing tearing away. Perhaps it was less effective on flesh, for while it left terrible rashes and aches, it did not melt as it did foundation.

With every 'leader' figure that was brought low, a foul burst of chaotic magic erupted. Some part of it tore off, an ethereal echo impossible to catch. With the last death, the air went still. The rain stopped, the wind ceased its terrible howling.

The only sound was that of Nethradin spirits pouring together, to something. Tar gathered, boiling. With the spirit of Ectaazi, something new was added.

The earth began to sunder, melting and burning, flames erupting out. Immolating bodies, buildings, undead, tearing through everything in its path.

A mouth tore up from the bubbling stone, roaring its hate, its dominance. The gathered tar poured towards it, elevating the head on a body of stone and corrupt mass. The stench of the chaotic was powerful as limbs came into view, spiked and terrible.

It roared again, stomping the ground, shaking the very earth.

It was not done yet.

[19:34] Sophia heaved with heavy breathing, rieka burning all around her. She cried out, "Glory to Azrael! Glory to the Legion!" Running forward, she lifted Dawn's Truth high into the air, runes glowing green. With a leap into the air, green wings carried her high and she brought the blade around, carving a line of sparks across the creatures body as she dove past.
(Sophia Song)
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[21:03] Sophia fell hard into the ground, collapsing on her knees as the green wings on her shoulders evaporated into nothing. She shoved the end of Dawns Truth into the ground and leaned upon it, her mythril saber held loosely in her offhand. Heavy breathing heaved her body up and down as she coughed out the acrid smelling and tasting air. Looking up to survey the battlefield, the broken buildings, and the hundreds of dead, her green eyes remained burning. She tilted her head to the sky and cried out. No words, just a shout of anger, of glory, and mourning for the fallen.

When it died away, so too did the rieka burning around her. She got up, hoisted her blade from the dirt, and slipped both into their scabbards still covered in black blood and burning bits magma. There was time enough for cleaning weapons later. Sophia jogged to the nearest of the injured, and knelt over them to inspect their wounds.

”You’ll be fine,” she told the young man, a common soldier. One quick glance over his wounds told her all she needed to know. This man would die a slow painful death unaided. A hand went to her dagger and she slowly pulled it free. ”You did well. Azrael will be proud to see you,” she promised just before she stabbed him in the heart, ending the suffering. She closed his eyes and moved on to the next.
This one could be saved. ”Calm down, let me see it. I’m with the medical division.”

(Sophia Song)
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[21:17] Allende had, by some miracle, survived.

Survival seemed such a dull prospect, however, when the man could not stop bleeding. Dirt, soot, blood, and tar- He hardly seemed the part of a man, anymore. When the battle concluded, he was a wreck of a man, raked through the mud after battling through injuries sustained at the gale wraith.

He'd met it head-on. There was a nobility in that, he thought, as if straight out of the tales of knightly feats. Fighting to keep conscious, he palmed the muddy, bile-coated grass, slipping once or twice before managing to half a seat, wondering if this were death coming. It felt familiar, like hunger.

Cloak torn to tatters, he glanced around dizzily, the razor occult winds rent deep into his veins. He idled there for a time, too much blood lost to register as much. It was almost dream-like, looking down at himself, wondering if it were his body.

Placing a hand at one of his wounds, no pressure nor filth that entered them seemed to staunch the remnants of the battle. Sucking a slow breath, he craned his head back, a dizzied, quiet groan escaping him. He sluggishly dragged himself back from the sands, wounds and pitch making sure he left a trail.
(Allende)
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[21:19] Chroma Zanders asks, "Is uh? Can you build anything for this Shizuko?"
[21:19] Sophia smiled at Chroma as she looked him in the good eye. "Ya know, we can make you a really cool eyepatch." She chuckled and then groaned from her own soreness. "I can clean this up so you don't get an infection. I have supplies to patch it up in surgery, but that will have to wait. I need Kai or Eliza's assistance, and there are too many wounded to do it now."

She reached down and opened a medic's kit on her belt, pulling out mild anticeptic solution. Aiming it at his eye, she squeezed the bottle and then used gauze to wipe away the tar. It took some time, the stuff was so sticky, and Sophia cursed as half her bottle was used up.

Once cleaned, she wrapped half his head in a white bandage to cover the eye socket and wounded flesh around it. "Leave this on for a while. I'll get you a fresh one in a few hours, assuming I don't run out."
(Sophia Song)
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[21:19] Chroma Zanders asks, "Oh?"

[21:21] Allende's head fell back. In his mangled stupor, he simply stared at the cloying darkness over Dawn, darkness encroaching at the edge of his vision like cigar burns. Laying there, he managed little other noise, breathing raggedly, bleeding like chattel at a charnel house. The lacerations suckered as he lay there.
(Allende)
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[21:22] Looking back to Sophia, he'd allow her to work on him a bit to stop it's bleeding and keep it from infection as she'd stated. Nodding to her, he'd wince a bit at the pain that came from moving his head about at the time being.

He'd press the bandage over his eye as he clutched it, letting out a bemoaned chuckle as he thought maybe it wasn't the best idea to go all out against the Wraith to get the final strike on him and leave himself wide open for something like what'd felled him.

Giving a thankful pat to Sophia, he'd add his gratitude. "Thanks Soph...it means a lot, really."
(Chroma Zanders)
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[21:25] Chroma Zanders asks, "So, should we wait for Kai, or something?"
[21:25] Sophia turns her attention to the crowd, "Who else needs first aide?"
(Sophia Song)
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[21:25] Chroma Zanders says, "I'll leave it closed. Eyepatches are cliche."

[21:25] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "Does anyone have a ..."
[21:25] Alastor G. Vishkar asks, "Burn, or something of the like?"
[21:26] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "Other than missing limbs or permanent afflictions."
[21:26] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "I'll take that as a no."
[21:27] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "Glad to see most of Dawn's fine."
[21:27] Chroma Zanders says, "Someone.."
[21:27] Chroma Zanders says, "Should help Allende."
[21:27] Chroma Zanders says, "He'd kinda dying."
[21:27] Anna says, "I have a burn.."
[21:27] Alastor G. Vishkar asks, "Where's Allende?"
[21:27] Chroma Zanders says, "South."
[21:27] Chroma Zanders says, "My good eye can see that much"
[21:27] Alastor G. Vishkar asks, "You're missing an entire eye?"
[21:27] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "Geez."
[21:28] Chroma Zanders says, "That's my monthly service to Dawn"
[21:29] Sophia walks over to observe Allende with Lord Vishkar. She reaches into her kit as she visually inspects the man.
(Sophia Song)
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[21:29] Zendrick Boreale says, "You're like Artagh now."
[21:29] Chroma Zanders says, "I still think I need surgery, though."
[21:30] Shizuko Megumi says, "Excuse me, what is your name? My name is Shizuko."
[21:30] Shizuko Megumi says, "The one who gave me amber.."
[21:30] Anna says, "His name is Jessi."
[21:30] Jessi Ann says, "Jessi is what I go by now, it was Jessika originally."
[21:31] Chroma Zanders asks, "She's a man again?"
[21:31] Anna asks, "Huh?"
[21:31] Shizuko Megumi asks, "Ahh, didn't we meet when you were Jessika?"
[21:31] Anna exclaims, "Huh!"
[21:31] Anna exclaims, "Impostor!"
[21:31] Jessi Ann says, "More than likely"
[21:31] Jessi Ann says, "I think maybe.."
[21:31] Shizuko Megumi says, "I think you told me of the news of Annie and I gave you something for it."
[21:31] Zendrick Boreale says, "You did really good today, Anna. "
[21:31] Shizuko Megumi asks, "So you know who needs these potions?"
[21:31] Chroma Zanders says, "Do..."
[21:31] Jessi Ann says, "Hm..."
[21:31] Chroma Zanders says, "I won't even ask.."
[21:31] Shizuko Megumi says, "Fresh out of fairy powder and amber, so it's all I have left."
[21:31] Sirocco says, "I could use one, but not before Chroma or anyone else."
[21:31] Chroma Zanders says, "I don't think those'll help me, Sirocco."
[21:31] Sirocco says, "Mh."
[21:31] Sors Ultovex asks, "How many pateints left?"
[21:31] Sirocco says, "That trip to the Umbral Path cache the other day has left me rather drained."
[21:32] Agem Geodipt says, "That sure was an experience..."
[21:32] Shizuko Megumi asks, "Who needs the potions the most do you think?"
[21:32] Chroma Zanders says, "That sounds like it would've been more entertaining than what I'd just seen."
[21:32] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "No one does, I think."
[21:32] Allende lay there. When Alastor enters the field of vision over him, the eye that isn't swollen shut from the bruising wanders lazily, far enough to catch the Eternal at the corner of it. The dark encroaching at the corner of his sight almost made it dream-like, the sight of the Oscuri, desaturated in color, save for his Rieka marks. He'd have mused aloud it seemed heavenly, though it seems the only sound Allende makes are the gargles when he breathes.

Perhaps the immediate concern would be that he is covered in the Nethradin's filth. The pitch and tar of the rain, the mud, the blades of grass- Though they could not cake him so thickly as the blood, blood in enough quantity it could be safely assumed as his own. The suckering wounds he sustained- profoundly deep, vicious lacerations that a body could never heal perfectly -had carved hunks out of his body. Though the more minor of them would've likely clotted by now, most alarming is that the blood has not been staunched by any coagulant, nor by the muck he'd been raked through.

Like meat in a charnel house.

He must have dragged himself back from the shores several feet, as there are stains of polluted blood there, raking back in a trail to where he'd finally succumbed. Though still conscious, his chest heaves irregularly, bloodied.
(Allende)
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[21:32] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "I offered a few as well."
[21:32] Sors Ultovex asks, "Everyones tended?"
[21:33] Chroma Zanders says, "Also, thank you Mrs. Shizuko"
[21:33] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "... Sors, this one ain't."
[21:33] Sirocco says, "I could use one, if none else."
[21:33] Shizuko Megumi says, "That's miss shizuko..."
[21:33] Shizuko Megumi says, "I'm not married."
[21:33] Anna says, "It's okay.. the burn will go away."
[21:33] Sors Ultovex asks, "How bad hurt?"
[21:33] Chroma Zanders says, "The next Crystals I find are on the house, and uh? Alright."
[21:33] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "I think quite a bit."
[21:33] Sophia Song asks, "You have this one, Lord Alastor?"
[21:33] Cassidy returns with a medical bag and some kits.
(Cassidy Invidia)
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[21:34] Shizuko Megumi asks, "Jessi, do you know who needs the Elixir of Healing the most?"
[21:34] Sors Ultovex asks, "Rite, rite. Kits?"
[21:34] Chroma Zanders says, "Eh, Sors."
[21:34] Sors Ultovex asks, "Ya?"
[21:34] Alastor G. Vishkar asks, "Mmh. Shizuko, do you have a kit?"
[21:34] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "Or the energy to make one."
[21:34] Chroma Zanders asks, "You mind making sure my brain doesn't fall out my eye socket?"
[21:34] Alex Monolyn exclaims, "Shizuko!"
[21:34] Chroma Zanders says, "I just got a kit."
[21:34] Cassidy Invidia says, "I have three."
[21:34] Morgan Townshend says, "Fuck's sake."
[21:34] Sors Ultovex says, "Tha's gon cost extra. "
[21:34] Chroma Zanders says, ". . . . ."
[21:34] Sors cackles.
(Sors Ultovex)
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[21:34] Sors Ultovex says, "Ya, I can."
[21:34] Vinny Yoxohl of Loranth whispers something.
[21:35] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "Got one kit extra."
[21:35] Shizuko Megumi asks, "Jessi?"
[21:35] Chroma Zanders asks, "Can..you take indentured payments?"
[21:35] Shizuko Megumi says, "Well, I guess Sirocco gets one."
[21:35] Chroma Zanders says, "I've got 500 on me.."
[21:35] Alastor G. Vishkar says, "I'll pay what remains."
[21:35] Sirocco says, "Here, I can give you further recompense later."
[21:35] Jessi Ann asks, "Someone needs a kit?"
[21:35] Alex points to Morgan, "She's hurt and seems to stubborn to admit it, can I buy a elixer off you Shizuko?"
(Alex Monolyn)
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[21:35] Sirocco says, "And I insist, really."
[21:35] Chroma Zanders says, "Thanks Alastor."
[21:35] Shizuko Megumi says, "I'd like you to drink it now if you don't mind."
[21:35] Sors Ultovex says, "Lemme take a look."
[21:36] Shizuko Megumi says, "Thanks."
[21:36] Sors Ultovex says, "Someone bring 'em kit."
[21:36] Sors Ultovex says, "Fer one o' the other."
[21:36] Cassidy Invidia asks, "Who?"
[21:36] Shizuko Megumi says, "I have one Elixir of Healing left."
[21:36] Agem Geodipt says, "Look like everyone got through it alright. Some more banged up than others."
[21:36] Shizuko Megumi says, "Alright.... I can put it towards more alchemicals."
[21:36] Shizuko Megumi says, "thanks."
[21:36] Anna says, "Give it to Legion members."
[21:36] Anna says, "They need it more, they fight."
[21:36] Name: "Eye for an Eye"

Desc: Chroma had been so eager to land the final blow upon the wraith that he had left himself open to its deathrattle. Ethereal hands reached through him, freezing what they touched, leaving a terrible trail of black, caustic tar. From the neck, to the face, to his eye, shattering it, ruining it, leaving a leaking black mess in its wake. Disgusting.

Inflictor: Morrana DM

Class: PERMANENT

Nerf: --20 VIT)))
(Chroma Zanders)
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[21:37] That lone eye peers glassily at Alastor, still. Though the man says nothing, it seems there's intent behind the gaze, as if the sight of the Eternal kept him anchored where he was.
(Allende)
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[21:37] Alastor stares at Allende first, and then towards Chroma. Two people hurt that way, meant he needed to get someone else to complete the job. But who, was the thing. He glanced around, before kneeling some. One hand reached out to grab the fallen man from the ground.

"This one's worse. Inside the fortress, Sors?" He spoke, carrying Allende over his shoulder, holy magic pressed to keep him from bleeding.
(Alastor G. Vishkar)
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[21:39] Allende manages, perhaps hopefully, a distorted groan of pain. The squelch of his wounds, and the blood he continues to seep, does little for the appetite.
(Allende)
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[21:43] Sors takes the kit from Chroma, apathetically looking the red head over. Grey and gold look at the freezing black tar left on his eye. It looked like there was a horrid shattering of it, only a black mess left in way of the eye.

"Huh. Rite, rite. Hold still."

A couple of skeletons have already returned form the inside of the Dawn's resurance. Rats are brought out, and Sors is quick to reach over. It takes only a moment and the single squeal of a rat before Sors plucks out the eye of the creature. Taking out some alchol, he rubs it over the eye, cleaning it before using occultism on the rest of the rat. It's skin would start to rot, and it sceamed out in pain before Ultovex turned to face Chroma again.

The occultism had stolen life and flesh from the rat. Now it generated it anew. Purple scarred flesh began to appear in Chroma's eyesocket, painfully being formed. It would be the sensation of being stabbed over and over before Ultovex brings the rat's eye to Chroma's body. The occultism connects one to the other. Although it wasn't a human body part, it would work.

With the mithril kit? He turns it to threads. Deftly, he takes a suture, stabbing it into Chroma's face and starting to ensure that the flesh surrounding the newly implanted eye would stay stable. Once he was finished with this final task, he took a step back.

"There. See if ya can see."
(Sors Ultovex)
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[21:48] Sophia follows Alastor. "M'lord, allow me to take care of this one with Sir Sors. You're certainly needed all over the city. You are the commander, and I am just a medic. I can make sure he is well taken care of."

She pulls what's left of her anticeptic solution and gauze from her kit, ready to get to work once the man was laid down for her to do so.
(Sophia Song)
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[21:48] Sitting there and watching Sors work his expertly masterful magic, the Spellblade would raise a skeptical eyebrow at first looking to the entire operation, about to say something before the flesh was rubbed into his oozing eye-socket.

Feeling a searing pain he'd bare his teeth without so much as a sound, however after the event, he'd put a hand over his eye, slowly peering was a narrowed icy blue hue, similar to that of a risen undead, yet still filled with vigor.

Blinking a few times, his eye would get a bit lost in the initial intervals, looing south as he looked north, and then it'd fix itself after he shook his head. An eery iris glaring in the night of Dawn along side his natural maroon, with a fresh and badassed scar reaching from the side of his neck to it's lid.

"Mnh…..not bad.."
(Chroma Zanders)
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[21:48] Sors Ultovex says, "Works, ya. Good 'nough."
[21:48] Alastor adjusts his own glass for a moment. Slowly, he glances towards Sophia, before looking at the ground down below. "I'm not putting him down on the grass. At least on the bench." The Eternal spoke, still moving with the man to a nearby bench.

Probably not the most comfortable spto to rest, but alas. It should probably be good enough.
(Alastor G. Vishkar)
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[21:50] Chroma pats Sors on the shoulder and gives him a thumbs up
(Chroma Zanders)
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[21:53] Cassidy follows around Sors, helping him where she can.
(Cassidy Invidia)
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[21:54] Allende whispers: (Oh, sure thing)
[21:55] Allende whispers: (Whoops, never mind, just saw you got it.)
[21:57] Sophia Song whispers: (oh i wanted the description the DM gave you.)
[21:57] Sophia Song whispers: (is it just deep cuts and hunks cut out of your body?)
[21:57] Sophia Song whispers: (and a perm?)
[22:00] Allende whispers: ( A terrible blow of occultic winds had slashed across Allende's body, perhpas more worryingly, into his veins. He'd bleed like any man, the wounds cursed, refusing to heal. The bleeding could be slowed, perhaps stopped with prosthetic aid, but until then... Allende was left permanently bloodied.)
[22:00] Allende whispers: (Perm, yeah.)

[22:08] Sophia helped the tar covered man lay back on the bench comfortably and turned her attention to his deepest wounds that appeared to still be bleeding. She shook her head and set her gauze back in her kit. Pulling out her clean dagger, she scrapped as much of the tar and dried blood away first.

Once that was done, she stabbed the dagger into the wood of the bench next to his head, then picked up the solution. She doused his deep wounds and the hunks missing from his body with the fluid. When the bottle was out, she pulled out another and emptied it as well. The iodine and wouldn’t burn much more than the pain her already felt, and the stains were certainly no concern given all the blood.

Using gauze, she dabbed at and wiped away all of the tar and old blood inside the wounds. Looking up in his eyes, she smiled and said, ”We did well out there tonight, ya know. Many died, but many more will go one because we were brave and strong.”

“This is going to take a while. Don’t fall asleep on me.” She turned her attention back to the wounds. The worst of them were going to need reconstruction for him to maintain full mobility. They would never fully heal, but if she did what she had learned correctly, nobody would be able to tell he was injured so long as he kept the scars and mythril materials covered.

Sophia pulled a dark box closer to her knees and flipped it open. She pulled out tools, forceps, clamps, scalpels, scissors, needles, and mythril threads. She arrayed them on top of the lid and started to go to work. She cut at good and bad flesh to smooth the edges of the gashes and to discard bits of tendon and muscle that would have no use. She used a needle to weave mythril threads to replace old connections between them and close circuits. As she pulled them tight, the wounds closed slightly. Soon, he would be able to use them again.

She created a weave pattern with the thread to cover his wound in a mesh, then charged the entire collection with her rieka much like she would her weapons. As the mythril glowed green, she whispered a spell and crystal clear water flowed from her hands, mixing with the flames of Azrael’s gift. They stimulated regrowth, his muscles attaching to the mythril like it were its own fibers and his skin grafting over the mesh to cover the wounds entirely.

When she were finished, she wiped her brow and put the tools away. They would need to be cleaned. ”You’re going to need to rest a while, soldier. But, after the soreness and pain starts to fade, you should be able to move about without issue. Glory to Azrael.”

(Sophia Song)
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[22:08] {Item} You drop Mythril Trauma Kit.

[22:17] Renegin snapped awake from the nap he had been having on the bench, a right good snooze after a long and arduous battle. He looked to his right, nothing particularly of interest. His head swiveled slowly, tensely as he was still sore from the battle. His eyes caught glimpse of a man being treated upon, extensive wounds covering him. He felt sorry for the guy, showering him with a look of pity before he inspected the operators.

He knew one but not the other, the girl with red hair a mystery to him but the man he recognized to be a Paladin of great stature. He scooted over a bit to provide some extra room, scratching his beard awkwardly as he was still half asleep.

"Augh...Demons got him eh? Well if he is getting treated by you two he'll pull through."

He took a deep breath, re orienting himself on the bench so he could silently watch from the background.


(Renegin Billard)
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[22:17] Zariel whispers something.
[22:21] The flow of blood from the body was something that would never stop even after the laceration was tended to. Even so, grey and gold remained on the sideline, watching as the other of the legion began her work at tending to the laceration. It was almost like a test, watching her work at scraping away tar and blood, cleaning the wounds and creating a weaving pattern to cover the flesh. He didn't comment, merely watching it happen as the undead fetched new cages of rats.

She had finished when he moved in to take a deeper look. His eyes scan over the injuries, initially prepared to tear it appart and start over if it was done incorrectly. It was done well. He seemed to hold surprise in his gaze, merely turning away. Occultism turned into needles, stabbing into the bodies of the rats before he turned and again faced the injured.

Around the muscles that the mithril covered, an extra layer of skin would begin to grow, swallowing it and ensure that it would not easily falloff. The procedure had been done well enough, but he ensured that the final pieces of mishappen flesh were there as a precation.

"Tha'll work."
(Sors Ultovex)
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[22:25] Sophia looked up to Sors and nodded. She rose and smiled. "Thank you, sir?"
(Sophia Song)
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[22:29] Allende was only dimly aware of the fact he was moving, the surly threads of consciousness an illusive creature, like grasping at a breeze. The Eternal was gone from his sight, and so he found a new anchor, the sight of Song. The sliver of his eye that was visible past the swollen flesh, glassy and distant, drifted to her when she entered his field of view, and begun the grim task of treating him.

But he had not yet reached a state of utter numbness, and for that, Allende cursed his fortitude. He sloughed tainted flesh like fat, the cleansing of his wounds only revealing further course for concern. All he could count himself aware of was the dim sense of torque and pressure, pain a foreign concept by now.

Perhaps he had been similarly aware of what was said, to some level. He laughed- Or rather, sputtered blood with some grim humor at something she must've said.

The errant twitch of muscle was easily stifled, as he was far too weak of body now to appropriately resist. The surgical mesh of mithril salvages the major arteries of his mana circuits, and he'd perhaps live to function as a magi, still. In his half-waking, half-dreaming state, the touch of Rieka- Of Azrael -made his muscle tense in response, a pale fist clenching bone-white before he eased.

Throughout the operation, Allende's good eye had lazed the way of Song, expressionless and drained. It was a wonder if he could hear her again, the first time miraculous enough, given the blood loss. The rat skin came, and Allende's eye dizzily went the way of a desaturated grey and gold, but any thoughts he had would have to wait and see whether he could remember this much.

His eye wandered again, up. The glassy look remained fixated on the cloying, darkened skies, fingers unconsciously drawing a fistful of cloth at his chest, some kind of red scarf. Allende was breathing, if shallowly. He might've thanked them, were he capable.
(Allende)
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[22:34] Sophia says, "He'll be fine..." as she pats his cheek. She nods at Sors and then turns to go into the city, helping more of the injured soldiers and civilians of Dawn.
(Sophia Song)
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[22:35] Allende is patted. He groans drunkenly in response.
(Allende)
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[22:35] Sors Ultovex says, "He'll live, ya."