Dravidan grumbled to himself as he was returning to his tent when a
guard stopped him, "Geltor! Sir Manset of the Order of the Watchful Eye
has summoned you! Failure to cooperate will result in your demise."
The half-giant hissed back at the man, "Do you not get tired of summoning me again and again? Look at me! I'm covered in my own blood from the battle that I fought to amuse the fool of a lord, Brevin, and I am to come again? Better to face the demise that you threaten every time you come to me human, rather than to honor you and your lords with my presense," he finished, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
The guard seemed to lose a bit of his thunder then, as Dravidan made his little speech. "Well, honestly sir, Manset really has no wish to quarrel with you, he sent me to get you so that he may congratulate you himself on an excellent fight." The guard tried to put on a casual demeanor to put the gladiator at ease, so that he could finish his job faster, but stopped when he received an awful scowl in return.
"Bah! Fine, I'll go with you to meet with this Manset. It had better be worth my time, though, else you may find yourself on my menu, and I like my food rare," he said, and like usual, the threat of eating the guard silenced him so that he would merely do his assigned task.
So, leading through the muddy encampment, they made their way across to the human populated side, and the guard brought him into the manor. Leading the way through a number of halls, he came to the guest quarters and stood by the door. "He said you were supposed to go in alone. I'll be out here though, so don't try anything."
The half-giant snorted at the threat and pushed open the door, closing it right behind him to leave himself in complete darkness. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, a beam of light pierced through the black, to fall on him. As the source of the light approached, it became clear that it was somehow magically based, as it was emitting from a shard of diamond. From the same direction as the light, a somewhat gruff voice broke the silence, "Hmm, well built. Wounded, probably a broken rib. Overall good shape though, and an amazing control over his mind." The light from the diamond dimmed as the man spoke. The features of an elder man, with brown hair, grayed around the edges, a crooked smile, and perhaps most apparent of all, an eye patch over his left eye, came into view. "Impressive fight today Geltor, such an ability, to release one's primal instincts for a short time, and being able to close the door on those instincts in moments. A greater skill for a warrior I've never seen in my long years in this cursed land." A curious glint reflected in his eyes.
Dravidan grunted, "What do you want old man? What have you summoned me for?" as usual getting straight to the point.
The man shrugged in reply. "Well, in scientific terms, I just wish to do some restoring on the subject, the subject being you. You, at the moment are suffering from internal bleeding because one of your broken ribs has pierced the muscle tissue in the upper abdomen. If you are not treated soon, you will no doubt die a slow, agonizingly painful death," the odd man finished with a wry smirk.
"Cheery fellow, aren't you?" the half-giant remarked. "Well, what do you plan on doing about it then? Get the surgeons, or let me die like that Brevin no doubt wanted me to?"
Manset laughed, "No, of course not, I'm no taxidermist, so there's no way of preserving you if you're dead. Y'know, I'm not called the Gem Knight for nothing," he said, letting the diamond become almost blindingly bright for a moment, before withdrawing another stone from a pouch at his waist. "This, dear Geltor, is hematite, or as most know it, a flesh stone, as it can be used to mend flesh, or the opposite if you know what you're doing, like I do."
Dravidan shook his head profusely, "No warlock, I will not fall victim to your evil magics, better to die the slow and painful death, as you so eloquently put it."
The mage scowled, "that's not one of your choices, you can either be healed by my hand, and the magic, or..." he pulled forth a graphite rod, "you can have the pleasure of a couple lightning bolts burning you to a crisp. Both are magic, which one would you rather be 'tortured' with?"
The half-giant groaned, "Work your evil spells with the flesh stone then, but know this; if I catch you without that pouch, I'll be working the torture on you, and I won't be nearly as gentle as I was with the drake.
Manset wasn't even listening, as he was deep in the concentration of the hematite, leaving his corporeal form to become ethereal, and coming into Dravidan's body, shifting the position of his ribs, and controlling the damaged muscle tissue. The geltor winced in pain as his flesh was being rearranged, but he stopped immediately. To show pain to your enemies is a sign of weakness. Twenty slow minutes later, the seemingly bi-polar man's eyes popped open. "Your ribs are healed, the muscle area will be sore for a while, but it's better to go into a fight, with no broken bones, than you would have."
The Geltor looked at the man inquisitively, "I would have what? What are you trying to say you antique?"
The mage shrugged," didn't they tell you? You're in the next gladiatorial combat tomorrow. They of course didn't want you healed at all, so consider yourself lucky that I took pity on you. Such an amazing specimen should not be forced into this kind of life..."
Dravidan roared, "Pity?! If anyone is to feel pity, it is I to you! You're an old man who rambles on about specimens, science, and rocks! I don't need your pity, and I don't want your pity. Just leave me be, and don't try to help me any more!" The half-giant stormed out of the room, going back to his tent to sleep off his almost overwhelming sense of anger.
The half-giant hissed back at the man, "Do you not get tired of summoning me again and again? Look at me! I'm covered in my own blood from the battle that I fought to amuse the fool of a lord, Brevin, and I am to come again? Better to face the demise that you threaten every time you come to me human, rather than to honor you and your lords with my presense," he finished, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
The guard seemed to lose a bit of his thunder then, as Dravidan made his little speech. "Well, honestly sir, Manset really has no wish to quarrel with you, he sent me to get you so that he may congratulate you himself on an excellent fight." The guard tried to put on a casual demeanor to put the gladiator at ease, so that he could finish his job faster, but stopped when he received an awful scowl in return.
"Bah! Fine, I'll go with you to meet with this Manset. It had better be worth my time, though, else you may find yourself on my menu, and I like my food rare," he said, and like usual, the threat of eating the guard silenced him so that he would merely do his assigned task.
So, leading through the muddy encampment, they made their way across to the human populated side, and the guard brought him into the manor. Leading the way through a number of halls, he came to the guest quarters and stood by the door. "He said you were supposed to go in alone. I'll be out here though, so don't try anything."
The half-giant snorted at the threat and pushed open the door, closing it right behind him to leave himself in complete darkness. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, a beam of light pierced through the black, to fall on him. As the source of the light approached, it became clear that it was somehow magically based, as it was emitting from a shard of diamond. From the same direction as the light, a somewhat gruff voice broke the silence, "Hmm, well built. Wounded, probably a broken rib. Overall good shape though, and an amazing control over his mind." The light from the diamond dimmed as the man spoke. The features of an elder man, with brown hair, grayed around the edges, a crooked smile, and perhaps most apparent of all, an eye patch over his left eye, came into view. "Impressive fight today Geltor, such an ability, to release one's primal instincts for a short time, and being able to close the door on those instincts in moments. A greater skill for a warrior I've never seen in my long years in this cursed land." A curious glint reflected in his eyes.
Dravidan grunted, "What do you want old man? What have you summoned me for?" as usual getting straight to the point.
The man shrugged in reply. "Well, in scientific terms, I just wish to do some restoring on the subject, the subject being you. You, at the moment are suffering from internal bleeding because one of your broken ribs has pierced the muscle tissue in the upper abdomen. If you are not treated soon, you will no doubt die a slow, agonizingly painful death," the odd man finished with a wry smirk.
"Cheery fellow, aren't you?" the half-giant remarked. "Well, what do you plan on doing about it then? Get the surgeons, or let me die like that Brevin no doubt wanted me to?"
Manset laughed, "No, of course not, I'm no taxidermist, so there's no way of preserving you if you're dead. Y'know, I'm not called the Gem Knight for nothing," he said, letting the diamond become almost blindingly bright for a moment, before withdrawing another stone from a pouch at his waist. "This, dear Geltor, is hematite, or as most know it, a flesh stone, as it can be used to mend flesh, or the opposite if you know what you're doing, like I do."
Dravidan shook his head profusely, "No warlock, I will not fall victim to your evil magics, better to die the slow and painful death, as you so eloquently put it."
The mage scowled, "that's not one of your choices, you can either be healed by my hand, and the magic, or..." he pulled forth a graphite rod, "you can have the pleasure of a couple lightning bolts burning you to a crisp. Both are magic, which one would you rather be 'tortured' with?"
The half-giant groaned, "Work your evil spells with the flesh stone then, but know this; if I catch you without that pouch, I'll be working the torture on you, and I won't be nearly as gentle as I was with the drake.
Manset wasn't even listening, as he was deep in the concentration of the hematite, leaving his corporeal form to become ethereal, and coming into Dravidan's body, shifting the position of his ribs, and controlling the damaged muscle tissue. The geltor winced in pain as his flesh was being rearranged, but he stopped immediately. To show pain to your enemies is a sign of weakness. Twenty slow minutes later, the seemingly bi-polar man's eyes popped open. "Your ribs are healed, the muscle area will be sore for a while, but it's better to go into a fight, with no broken bones, than you would have."
The Geltor looked at the man inquisitively, "I would have what? What are you trying to say you antique?"
The mage shrugged," didn't they tell you? You're in the next gladiatorial combat tomorrow. They of course didn't want you healed at all, so consider yourself lucky that I took pity on you. Such an amazing specimen should not be forced into this kind of life..."
Dravidan roared, "Pity?! If anyone is to feel pity, it is I to you! You're an old man who rambles on about specimens, science, and rocks! I don't need your pity, and I don't want your pity. Just leave me be, and don't try to help me any more!" The half-giant stormed out of the room, going back to his tent to sleep off his almost overwhelming sense of anger.