Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20161103020802/@comment-28358106-20161208044425

(But he drank the potion. And wow, you're a dick.)

In the safety of the rear echelon, I pass my hands over the shredded remains of a man's leg. He doesn't feel any more pain, my magic has seen to that, but he's lost a lot of blood, and I work to staunch the flow. I talk to him to keep him focused.

"Hey, lad. Hey.  Look at me.  Remember what you were telling me earlier, about your fiancée?  Tell me about her again.  What does she look like?  How pretty is she?  Is she as pretty as my wife?" I grin sideways.

He smiles in a half delirious way, his eyelids drooping. "Yes sir. Blonde.  Short blonde.  Like a dandelion.  Call her lion.  I joke, because she's never lied.  Not a way to go.  No.  Met her in the bean patch.  The bean patch..."

The blood has stopped, and his breathing becomes regular as he drops off to sleep. The blue runes spring from my hand, their streams of arcanum weaving his muscles back together, stretching his skin over. At last his leg is as whole as it is going to get. But the phantom pain and the memory of the trauma will remain.

Silently, i place a hand on his head and move to the next.