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[Blade Master Model 42]

"Ah. A sensible suggestion. But it will have to wait until I have taken inventory." Yarun continued to peer through his wagon, shifting piles of weapons and sundry.

[Sirus]

Farra tried to see if she could recognize the tune from days of hearing traders whistle while they worked, but to no avail. Nevertheless, she listened, for it was better sounding than what argument had spawned from that terrifying sword.

    "Truley lovely! Hmm... Where do you hear those songs anyways? They suit your talent, but I don't recognize them.

: "Oh hey, Farra. Well, my parents ran a mill and the grain merchants would often sing while they waited for their flour. After the war, I moved to the city and picked up more songs in the taverns and inns. Aaaand I make some of them up!"

[Swordstar]

"Mmm whoever would have guessed. Here, hold still."

Sharne gently smoothed some of the salve over the wound before wrapping it up in some old cloth bandages that she pulled out of the pouch next. Using some of the remaining bandages to wipe her hands, she then wrapped them around her own wound, giving it a quick once over before she did.

"There. Will you stop flirting with me now that I've taken care of myself and let me... Wait, where did Kaldach go?"

[Twinwolf]

"Awww, I was hoping you'd let me take care of you..." Esther says as Sharne treats her own wounds.

"Kaldach? I don't know. He seems to have vanished."

[Swordstar]

"... After how you greeted me, I'm not sure I can trust you to treat my wounds. And dammit. I wasn't done with him... The pure... stupidity! of using that sword. Ugh."

[GiglameshDespair]

"Oi, Berthold."

[Aliemma]

: "Oh hey, Farra. Well, my parents ran a mill and the grain merchants would often sing while they waited for their flour. After the war, I moved to the city and picked up more songs in the taverns and inns. Aaaand I make some of them up!"

  "Ah, that explains it.
I'm more used to hearing working chants from people loading up their carts,"


   "I've never been one for making things, nevermind writing songs or the like. I'd imagine it's a lot harder than just buying and selling the works of others.

[IamanElfCollaborator]

"Yes?"
Bertholt, with a softer voice than prior, looks over to Roux.

[GiglameshDespair]

"Yer alright?"
She looked away after asking, but looking back.
"Thought I should ask, considerin' yer 'ired me an' all."

[IamanElfCollaborator]

"I am somewhat tired, but alive. I should honestly be asking you the same question. You took somewhat of a beating."
Bertholt lifts an eyebrow.

[GiglameshDespair]

The ex-bandit grinned and rapped a hand against her breastplate.
"Nah, this _ow is nothin'."
She shrugged.
"Took way worse when I was a sprat. I gotta wonder, though. 'Ow come yer learned to use a lance in that monkastry o' yers?"

[IamanElfCollaborator]

"Bandits oft pillage monasteries and priories such as ours for the treasures within. Not all of them are as well-intentioned nor as charming as you."
Bertholt gives Roux a knowing, teasing look.

[GiglameshDespair]

"Huh. Guess that makes sen-"
She paused as the last part of what he said was processed, then flushed.
"Wait-"
"Flattery ain't gettin' yer nothin', dumbass! I ain't had any good intentions!"

[IamanElfCollaborator]

Bertholt simply chuckles.
"Pretend all you like, but I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

[GiglameshDespair]

"I ain't pretendin' nothin'!"
She crossed her arms and looked away, scowling.
"I'm only 'ere coz yer 'elped me ma. That's all. Dumbass!"