A bard in time saves...

[Lanya Caliope]

Indeed the bard went to collect the medicine kit after helping Hapnir as best she could to move the large guard from on top of the elf, limping slightly because of her sore feet. Silent as she moved, her thoughts roiled and bubbled with an odd mixture of guilt and relief. Metarie hadn't been killed; the house was a shambles, but it could've been such a worse scene to come back to.

And Metarie had smiled.

She returned from the bathroom carrying the medicine kit and waited for further directions. At the least Metarie might need to move from the floor, but Lanya had never bandaged cracked ribs and wasn't sure about the proper procedure. She tried to push away some of the guilt for this injury, and succeeded. For all that she blamed herself for the entire situation, she would not take responsibility for the actions of another.

It was a hard struggle, but she managed. On the table nearby, Flame let loose a regular robin's chirp, eying Hapnir with active curiousity. The bard turned and raised an eyebrow at him; the look was enough to make him fluff his feathers, but he made no further sound or movement.

Now she looked at Hapnir, the guard who'd come at the request of a total stranger. She respected the choice this man had made, to trust her, and ducked her head as she spoke quietly.

"Thank you for coming."

She understood that it was his duty as a guardsman of the city, but nonetheless he'd taken quite a risk following her here. She at least thought he might appreciate the acknowledgement.

[City Guard]

Piglet

Hapnir furrowed his brow at the mention of that oft-detested card swindle. Of course Idonir knew it, but how did she? She had to have served or worked with the guard directly at some point. That meant more to Hapnir than her being a descendant, which he didn't much care about. Unlike some others, he held no prejudice against elves. Lurus was his best friend.

He's fine. He'll sleep it off.

"I see."

He crouched between Metarie and Idonir with his elbows on his knees and looked her over. She wasn't getting up, which meant that she was more injured than she let on. Pain, like the dead, was a familiar sight. She was having trouble breathing.

Do you know how to wrap a cracked rib cage?

"No, but I suspect you'll show me."

He smiled at her and it was suddenly obvious that he liked her and didn't begrudge her for drugging his comrade. Hapnir did not have the most attractive facial features. His nose had obviously been broken and poorly set. A pair of scars split his right eyebrow and his green eyes had the deeply resigned look of someone who'd seen too much. He was nearing 40 and already had some grays intruding on his thin brown hair.

A strange bird started chirping in the room and Hapnir noticed it for the first time. He assumed it belonged to Metarie. He was distracted again when Lanya returned with the kit and thanked him for coming. He didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing and just looked at her for a second while he reached for the kit.

[Metarie]

"No, but I suspect you'll show me."

Metarie’s eyes and nose crinkled up as she found his answer amusing. Another little wispy laugh escaped her. “Indeed.” Hapnir smiled at her amiably as he studied her. The smile seemed genuine and Metarie felt a rush of relief roll through her. For the moment at least, the tension of dealing with barking questions had been delayed at least for a while. Her gaze drifted to the syringe and then to the doorway through which Lanya had disappeared.

“As a doctor, my official opinion is that he drank a little too much ale.” Metarie’s words were punctuated by careful pauses to accommodate the pain that came from expanding her ribcage with each breath.

“We played cards to pass the time. He tried to call piglet on me.” Metarie gave as nonchalant a shrug as was possible in the situation. “Usual altercation.” In other words, what happens between the guards stays between the guards. Something she would have to impress upon Lanya. Whatever came of this would not be brought out into the public. Metarie trusted Camulous enough to do what was right; something else Lanya might find odd considering it was Camulous who sent Idonir in the first place. Besides, Metarie was sure she had made an enemy of Idonir, best to minimize the damage as best she could.

Flame called out in a normal robin-like warble causing Kona to turn his head. The dog gave his usual huff of a bark in response. Lanya returned and thanked Hapnir for coming. Metarie nodded. “Yes. Thank you. Could you help me up?” She looked to Hapnir for this. To Lanya, she said, “Would you please put the kettle on? We will need to make a salve.”

[Lanya Caliope]

Lanya handed over the medicine bag to the guard, having missed Metarie's succinct appraisal of the situation. If she'd heard the terms used she would've realized the need for discretion being emphasized; as it was she saw no need to disclose further events, and knew no one within the city beyond the captain and who stood within the room that she would trust with the information.

She only nodded in response to the elf's request and headed for the kitchen, then paused upon seeing her things on the settee. The sack, cloak and particularly the staff drew her attention, and she felt the urge to change swell within her, but she wanted to tend to Metarie's needs first.

She approached the stove where the kettle sat, then the sink to fill it with water. Silent save for the rattle of her movements, she placed the filled kettle back onto the stove and turned the heat to what seemed to be medium. It would heat within minutes, but she wanted to change and didn't want to let the kettle bubble over while she was away, unable to attend to it.

Satisfied that she'd served her purpose, she approached the couch, took up both pack and staff, and looked at Metarie for a moment. She paused, wondering if she should bother stating her intentions, but instead just produced a wan smile and headed for the bedroom to set them both before the door.

She didn't trust her voice enough to speak.

Back out in the main hallway, she approached the back door and unlatched it to open it and head into the back yard. It took a bare moment to orient herself and find the entrance to the crawlspace. She entered again, shuffling along the narrow tunnel until she reached the dark blackness where the trapdoor blocked her path. She reached out and ran her fingers delicately along the darkness until she found an odd groove. She pushed her fingers inside of the groove, where something distinctly living skittered against her finger pads.

Gritting her teeth against a yelp of disgust, she yanked at the groove, which easily slid forward with a click. She pulled her hand free and pushed, and the heavy door swung open into the room with relieving ease.

She pulled herself into the room and stood, idly dusting the cloak and Metarie's pants before checking her fingers. The remnants of a spider's body, legs and webbing remained caked to her skin, and she quickly moved to the bathroom to wash her hands. The sight inspired only a dull reflex of fear; she'd been born and raised on a farm, and insects didn't disturb her so much as represent general unease.

Task completed, she went to the bedroom door and began the steady process of unlatching all of the bolts and locks until she was able to pull the door open. The moment the door stood open Flame glided through to settle himself on the bed; without comment she took up the pack and staff and closed the door behind herself to begin the process of changing into her own clothes.

With considerable relief, she removed the tight pants and shirt from her abused body. The fabric had been strained against her more shapely figure, and even worse was the lack of undergarments. She remedied this in short order, sighing a quiet sigh of relief at placing a breast-band in place - a comfort she hadn't felt in days. An older men's shirt and brown pants soon covered her figure once more, and she even had a spare set of boots within the pack. She sat on the bed and carefully removed Metarie's tight-fitting shoes, massaging her feet with a grateful sigh before sliding her own boots on. They were noticeably broken in and weathered, and the fit was perfect because of how much she'd used them.

She wiggled her toes against the worn leather with another happy sigh. At least she felt comfortable once more, though she'd left the cloak outside on the settee.

She replaced both cloak and boots in the healer's armoire, then folded the used shirt and breeches to lie on the bed for Metarie. She wasn't sure where to put clothing which needed to be laundered.

Now settled within both body and mind, she turned her full attention to the staff. She'd noticed oddities before, but instead had remained focused on keeping herself calm and collected. She gently took the staff into her hands and examined the top perch, where once upon a time a small wooden robin had sat, merrily gazing upon the world. Said robin now watched with active interest from the bed as Lanya reached a tentative hand forward to gently touch the small branch which had sprouted from the top of the staff, complete with three perfect little leaves. Now she looked at Flame and shook her head; clearly he was connected to the staff somehow, and she was glad that she had thought to retrieve it.

Satisfied, she found that she had no further distractions. With a final sigh, she leaned the staff against the wall next to Greenfyre - two living magical wooden objects - and opened the bedroom door again to walk into the main room. If not yet checked, her first action would be to check the kettle on the stove and move it to a cold stove eye if needed.

[City Guard]

As a doctor, my official opinion is that he drank a little too much ale.

Hapnir smirked. and took the medicine bag from Lanya to start looking through it for a bandage.

We played cards to pass the time. He tried to call piglet on me.

He nodded subtly in understanding, still busy with the bag. It was easy to imagine exactly how Idonir responded to being called out on a piglet play by a woman - an elf woman no less. She was attractive, Idonir was a thug and a womanizer. Somehow she'd gotten the better of the man in the end, which was a miracle considering Idonir's size. There was little doubt in Hapnir's mind what Idonir planned on doing if she hadn't drugged him.

"The captain will deal with him."

The guardsman barely noticed Lanya's presence or her ensuing departure. He knew she was important somehow, but without any more information the pressing issue was Metarie and Idonir, who could wake up at any time.

Still crouching in the same place, now with bandages in hand, he looked to the elf for further instructions.

[Metarie]

Metarie nodded. Then she said, “He sent him here.” It was almost, almost an accusation.

She closed her eyes for a moment. “In the left pantry, the salve is called Goldenseal; the tub will be the eigth one from the left.” Metarie paused. “Pour the boiling water into a shallow dish and place the tub within the bowl. This will warm the salve.”

Metarie opened her eyes. Her gaze was hazy with pain. Her brows furrowed. She fought the pain and the fight was obvious. “The salve should be placed over the injury. Use a soft utensil.”

Metarie gave another pause, closed her eyes, and re-opened them again. “Then, the bandage should be wrapped very tightly around my ribcage after that.” A sort of pouring sand noise filled her head and waited for the feeling to pass. She did not want to pass out just yet. “There is a small box on the second shelf, inside a vial. Pain reliever… that first and then help me to sit in a chair for the rest.”

Metarie licked her lips and focused her gaze on Hapnir and Lanya. “Yes?”

[Lanya Caliope]

Again, the woman responded mechanically to Metarie's orders, entering the pantry to grab the needed salve. She prepared it with care, lying the tub gently into the boiled water to allow it to heat itself naturally. She occasionally glanced over at the elf and saw the haziness in her eyes, but kept focused on what she was doing.

And now she was done.

She laid a spatula next to the dish for ease, but considered that having two people fussing over the elf would only become awkward. Healers had assistants but generally worked by themselves - and Hapnir could more easily manhandle Metarie in whatever way necessary to bandage her ribs. Lanya paused a moment, then retrieved the pain reliever and approached the elf, holding it out for her. Small tasks aside, she was beginning to feel useless - unless Hapnir needed help, which seemed unlikely given the man seemed perfectly at ease taking orders, Lanya had no place here.

She debated her options. She could leave the room and let the two warriors handle the circumstances, or she could stay and serve a very minor helping role. It was tempting, very tempting to leave...but she decided to hold off and wait. At the very least she might pick up a few healing tricks, which might come in handy should she need them in the future.

Clenching her jaw against the continued thoughts of how short her future would likely be, she stood quiet and ready to take whatever further actions needed.

[City Guard]

Hapnir listened passively. He knew Camulous had sent Idonir. It was probably because Idonir was one of their best fighters, and was given the benefit of the doubt when he should not have been.

He pushed himself up to a standing position with his hands on his knees and retrieved a pair of chairs; one for himself, and one which he placed beside Metarie while Lanya prepared things in the kitchen.

With the chairs in place, he crouched beside her again, elbows on his knees as before. He looked up and down her body once, being as clinical as he knew how to be, which wasn't very.

After she had taken the pain killers, he gave her time to brace herself and then helped her to get into the chair, being careful not to touch her ribs or anywhere else she gave signs of pain. It wasn't easy, but he was strong and lifted her easily.

Once she was in the chair he stood up and took a step back, looking to Lanya.

"Er... you should help her with the armor. "

Idonir stirred. The sound made Hapnir step away from him immediately. He hoped the brute wasn't going to wake up before Camulous arrived.

[Metarie]

Metarie, in an attempt to avoid choking and to avoid spilling it, gingerly sipped the painkiller from the vial. Relief creeped through her as the medicine began to dull the pain. Being moved, though, was not especially pleasant. Metarie grit her teeth and her fingers scrabbled on Hapnir’s armor as she clenched her hand. She felt weightless in his grip.

Sitting upright was a little better, though not much. Metarie closed her eyes again. The color in her face had drained and she was pale. “Thank you,” she murmured. Opening her eyes, she saw Hapnir move away a little and glanced down as Idonir stirred. She stared at Idonir blankly.

“There’s another sedative on the counter. I made them just in case.” Just in case the assassin showed up, not because of Idonir. The man was big and she had made the sedatives strong enough to keep a human-sized half-elf down for long enough to get to the guardhouse and back again. Idonir had been drinking and now was sedated, but it was possible he could wake depending on his body’s ability to process the alcohol and the sedative.

Metarie began working the buckles of her armor as best she could with her left hand only, but stopped when Hapnir suggested that Lanya help her.

“I am wearing an undergarment. Do not be embarrassed.”

[Lanya Caliope]

She couldn't help a light blush as she stepped forward to help Metarie remove the armour. It was well-cared for and the buckles were manipulated easily enough for the guitar player. She almost didn't notice Idonir beginning to stir as she concentrated on undoing the various loops.

She glanced down at the larger man, but didn't feel a great deal of worry rise within her at the thought of him waking. Hapnir was here now, and she didn't believe the larger guard would try to attack Metarie while such a witness stood present. Lanya could be ignored as some stranger with no pull; a fellow guard could not. Already Hapnir had shown enough respect by asking Lanya to help with the elf's armour; she didn't think he would turn the table on them and help Idonir.

She stepped back a bit once done, trying to help Metarie remove the leather armour as best she could. She'd noticed how dizzy the woman seemed and spoke quietly as she worked.

"Would something to eat help you? The broth you made me?"

[City Guard]

Hapnir straightened up and adjusted his armor while Lanya assisted Metarie with hers. He took a slow, deep breath, and calmed himself. If Idonir did wake up, he was going to have to handle it as professionally as possible. In dealing with Idnoir, that also meant showing no fear.

He wasn't embarrassed to help her take the armor off, but felt the need to show a certain amount of respect around a woman he didn't know. Despite the actions of certain guardsmen, there were many who really did follow a code of chivalry. Hapnir wasn't quite a white knight of paladinic proportions, but he took a reasonable amount of care to present the image of a proper guardsman.

With Metarie's armor off, he pulled his seat up across from hers and followed her instructions.

[Metarie]

Metarie winced once or twice as the armor was removed, she gave Lanya a smile.

"No, it is the pain. I will be fine."

An ugly black bruise had already begun to flower across the right side of her ribcage and the area was definitely swollen. Metarie braced herself then reached her left hand to feel the spot. Touching it nearly made her want to vomit or pass-out, possibly both, but she had to give instructions she she just closed her eyes and fought off the inclinations. Lanya probably wondered why Metarie did not just heal herself, but she could not. Metarie had spent the better portion of the day healing others, including a concerted effort to repair most of the damage done to Lanya's knee; simply put, between that and the pain Metarie was exhausted.

"Thank Baresi," Metarie murmured. "The ribs are not broken, just cracked," she said.

When Hapnir pulled the chair close, she grit her teeth and winced more as she lifted her arms and put her hands upon his shoulders. She waited a few, shallow breaths before speaking again.

"I don't know your name...," she said softly before continuing with the instructions, "The bandage should be wrapped tightly around my ribcage, please, but apply the salve first. Lanya, would you apply the salve over and around the bruised area, please?"

[Lanya Caliope]

"Aye."

She walked to the kitchen and took up the heated salve with a cloth to protect her hands, gathered the spatula, and returned to Metarie's side. She pulled forth a chair so that she could sit comfortably as well, positioning herself slightly to the side to allow the guard a comfortable distance. Still quiet, she began the steady process of spreading the salve over the bruise, only flinching once as she began the process and imagined how painful it must be. She spread the salve evenly and drew it out about three inches around the wound to cover for any additional damage they might not be able to see.

She did wonder why the elf hadn't healed herself, and almost brought herself to ask - but the truth was, she suspected that her own healing had taxed the healer beyond her capabilities for a while. Lanya understood that healers expended energy while they worked, and had long since convinced herself that the reason Metarie could not heal her own damage was because she had spent so much time healing the bard's.

Thus she maintained her silence, though she did look at the guard when Metarie hinted for his name.

[City Guard]

"Hapnir Vemryndi" He told the elf.

Hapnir liked to use his last name when introducing himself to elves, not just on the off chance that the name would mean something to them, but also because it amused him to turn the tables and give a name an elf wouldn't know. Vemryndi was not first settler's name, but it suggested an origin somewhere in souther Tian Xia, which was fairly common. It did not match his first name, which was as white as his skin.

He let Lanya apply the salve before leaning over to begin wrapping Metarie's waist. He started at the opposite end of the injury, and uncoiled the gauze around her without holding back on the tightness of it. She said to make it tight, and that's what he did, letting her brace herself on his shoulders until the last of the gauze was used up. He tucked the end under on of the layers, and then looked up at her.

"Done."

[Metarie]

Just before Hapnir began to wrap the bandage tightly around her, Metarie took a deep breath. Not a pleasant thing to do with cracked ribs, but necessary. Experience indicated the need to take sufficient breath, even with such an injury. Otherwise, infections could take place in the lungs; not that Metarie intended to leave the injury for that long, only that doing so was the right thing to do.

“Vemryndi,” said Metarie, “That is a southern Tian Xia name is it not?” Metarie gave a little intake of breath and turned her head to the side, as the first round of bandage was pulled tight. Her grip on Hapnir’s armored shoulders tightened and she focused her eyes upon the place her bow had been. “Yet, Hapnir is not. That sounds like the start of an interesting life story. Perhaps you will tell it to us sometime?”

Metarie continued to take deep breaths to make sure she could do so even with the bandage tight as it needed to be. “The salve is made of herbs designed to reduce pain. I grew the herbs in my garden. It is a wonderful and simple solution that anyone can make.” Metarie’s thoughts drifted occasionally. Brows drawn together, face pale, eyes closed, she began to list the ingredients as a means to disassociate herself from the pain.

“One part Goldenseal rool, Comfrey root, Calendula, Echinaecea, Arnica, and Myrrh mixed with olive oil, safflower oil, and beeswax. This salve helps to heal wounds and fight infections. The tincture includes white willowbark to reduce…”

“Done.”

Metarie turned to look at Hapnir. “Ah. Thank you.” She did not release Hapnir immediately. She was a little apprehensive about putting her hands down.