Scarlet Weather
The Game is Afoot!
- 1,823
- Posts
- 18
- Years
- In a House
- Seen Mar 20, 2016
Fen's sudden arrival jarred Ed, though he made sure that it didn't register on his features. He decided that it would be best just to summarize what had happened to Brad. "This... is Brad. He's a dark magic user, and a fairly skilled one. Apparently he's having a few problems with a set of parasitic rings that are draining his blood in exchange for power. He'll be working with us for a while." After dispensing this explanation, Ed removed a small pouch from one of his numerous hidden pockets. "This," he explained, "Is powdered phoenix blood. Very rare, very dangerous, and extremely expensive so unless you two feel like tracking down a new phoenix and collecting some more I suggest you don't lose it. It's a gift from me to you two." Removing a second pouch from his poecket, he tossed one pouch to both of his 'employees', making a mental note of which employee received which pouch. "It's for healing wounds. Even if you were at the point of death, mixing that bag of powder with your blood would revive you. You get one healing per use. Use only as much powder as you think is necessary. And when you get a chance, you can thank my mum for keeping her medical supplies in easy reach." Underneath his mask, Ed grinned cheekily in spite of himself.
"Students? What in blazes are ye doin' in here?"
The gruff voice startled Ed immensely, and he immediately about-faced to see a large, impossibly muscular man with a beard at least a foot in length adorning the lower half of his face. Like his hair, the bright red of the beard seemed to sizzle with flame. It was a tad obvious that the man was Scottish, what with the dark blue plaid cap and kilt he wore. Perhaps the traditional garb was a bit cliche, but Ed seriously doubted that anyone would dare call the man out-fashioned to his face when he saw the large broadsword strapped to his back. No doubt this man was a fighting instructor of some sort, and he had come in to check on an injured student. His jaws cracked open, revealing an extremely menacing set of white teeth as he growled, "Well, laddies, I'm waitin'."
Ed thought quickly. "Were just visiting our friend in the hospital, sir. No need to shout," he explained. "We'll be on our way now." Motioning for Fen to follow him, he slipped out the door.
The Scotsman scratched his head. "Aye, there's summat odd about them wee laddies. But fer the life o' me Ah cahn't figger oot what it is." After delivering this final remark, the broad Scotsman swaggered to room 23 in order to check on, as Ed had guessed, his injured students.
"Students? What in blazes are ye doin' in here?"
The gruff voice startled Ed immensely, and he immediately about-faced to see a large, impossibly muscular man with a beard at least a foot in length adorning the lower half of his face. Like his hair, the bright red of the beard seemed to sizzle with flame. It was a tad obvious that the man was Scottish, what with the dark blue plaid cap and kilt he wore. Perhaps the traditional garb was a bit cliche, but Ed seriously doubted that anyone would dare call the man out-fashioned to his face when he saw the large broadsword strapped to his back. No doubt this man was a fighting instructor of some sort, and he had come in to check on an injured student. His jaws cracked open, revealing an extremely menacing set of white teeth as he growled, "Well, laddies, I'm waitin'."
Ed thought quickly. "Were just visiting our friend in the hospital, sir. No need to shout," he explained. "We'll be on our way now." Motioning for Fen to follow him, he slipped out the door.
The Scotsman scratched his head. "Aye, there's summat odd about them wee laddies. But fer the life o' me Ah cahn't figger oot what it is." After delivering this final remark, the broad Scotsman swaggered to room 23 in order to check on, as Ed had guessed, his injured students.
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