((ooc - pardon if this is short, i wanted to describe Elmira's house in Port Nirav and also to give much reign to anyone who wishes to reply to make things interesting. I won't be replying often, but I assure you that I will reply when I have the time. Currently I am having a hard time with super long paragraphs, so please bear with me, thank you...))


The house was squarish, its brick walls finished over by cementation and colored lightly, partly because of the salt that the sea and the winds constantly brought in. The clay roof tiles baked and cracked under the sun, and the small glass windows open only ever so slightly, and even then held from the inside with a simple lock so as not to let them flap around when the winds from the sea picked up. Small flowerpots decorated the windows, bringing in their smell into the house and out to the open street however temporary. The arched wooden door was closed, but a simple cardboard sign hung on the doorknob with letters that spelled O-P-E-N.

Elmira moved purposefully inside the house, lighting some scented candles so as to provide light and whisk away the terrible salty tang that had invaded her house when she'd been gone for Olencia. She had just got back, and it was time to clean the place before some people arrived, asking for her help in their ailments and pains. A bag of blue roses stood at the scrubbed wooden table.

She paused in the act of lighting a final candle when she sensed someone come up her doorstep; she could see their shadow beyond the frosted glass.

Vale wandered through Port Nirav clutching his arm. His shirt was caked with blood and his sword was stained. The man who had hired him was dead. Even a body gaurd fails at time. The odds had been against him. A whole gang against Vale, his employer, and one other bodygaurd. The employer had been shot from behind while Vale and the other man were fighting. Both men were then released due to the fact that the gang harbored nothing against them.

Heavily wounded the other man limped off to his home to treat his own wounds while Vale was forced to wander the streets looking for a place to aquire treatments for his wounds. Vale stopped at a street venders stall and bought a piece of cloth. Vale looked around for a couple moments and picked up a little wooden rod. He wrapped the cloth around his arm and used the stick to tighten it. A crude but working Tournaquit. That would have to do until he found some proper medical treatment. Vale winced the blood flow was cut off to the wound. Vale thanked the stall owner who in turn gave him some slave for the wound.

Vale made his way down to the shore where he quickly washed his wound out with the salt water. It stung but that meant it was safe for the time being. Vale looked at himself in a window as he walked back up to the port. He look mildly presentable. The blood had washed out of his clothing (which was rapidly drying due to a cool breeze) and his sword was sheathed and hung off his back. Vale now looked just like any other wandering traveler with the exeception of the gash on his arm.

Vale soon came to a house where he had been told he could get some pain relief. When Vale arrived the house was dark, sighing to himself Vale turned to leave but out of the corner of his eye he saw a light go on, then another, then another. Relieved he stepped up to the doorway and knocked.

Whoever they were, they knocked. Elmira blew the matchstick and placed it on the table and then moved toward the shadow beyond her door, her pastel skirts swishing with every move, her white locks quiet on her shoulders. She opened the door and the man very nearly fell on top of her; it did not help that he was quite heavy, and he was losing ample amounts of blood.

Elmira's gray eyes quickly went over to the man's wound as she struggled to bring him inside and lay him on the couch carefully, and then proceeded to shut the door. He was still conscious, but she doubted he could make sense of what he was seeing now.

The woman moved to the kitchen, got a glass and poured something olive green into it. She went back to him, lifting his head a bit, and then willing him to drink. It was one of those moments that she wished she had her voice back, but she did not, and the man drank anyway, even just little by little.

Elmira put the glass on the nearby table and went back to her kitchen again, fetching some newly-made vials. Her sewing kit was on the same table in the kitchen, and she fetched that too. She pulled up a stool beside the man and sat down, ready to begin her work. She noted the crude torniquet he had made for his arm; she had to correct that soon or his bones would not mend properly.

Gingerly, she removed the torniquet and unbuttoned the man's shirt. Oh, that gash was bad. It would need stitching. She wondered what he had done to merit such a nasty cut. Turning on the chair, she selected a vial of some whitish paste made from ground apples' seeds. She took some cloth from the table (underneath she had always kept a stack ready) and used it to wipe the flowing blood from the gash. She dabbed the ointment on. The pain and the sensation from around the wound should fade soon, and then she could begin sewing it up. And then there was still the matter of replacing the blood he'd lost.

As the light shone out from the crack in the door Vale began to collaspe. He felt himself fall upon a woman. In the back of his mind Vale was slightly ashamed. He had appeared her door and just blacked out. Only half aware of what was going on Vale felt the tournaquit release its grip from his arm, the feeling rushed abruptly back to his arm. Oddly enough he felt no pain from the wound...A salve.

Vale felt a needle thread in and out of his skin, but no pain. What an odd sensation. Vale wondered what it would feel like to be in battle without pain. No, that would be bad, how would he know if someone had stabbed him?

Vale tried to speak but all that came out was a low growl. Water, he needed water...Vale could barely make out the features in the room but he pointed in the direction of what he though might be a cup of water.