Quote Originally Posted by Zed's Dead View Post
Janson Himmerhardt, venerable writer

As the young woman neared him, Janson's broad smile broke, and only a grimace of pain remained. By the time she reached him, he had fallen to his knees.

My way...he was panting with the effort of walking so far...has always been to ignore...hardship...and turn toward more...pleasant...

Janson pitched forward toward toward the sand.
Mara Herbswife


Mara had never been particularly quick or agile before, but when the elderly man toppled, her body moved without thought to catch him before he hit the sand. Kneeling, she carefully lowered him to the ground, then removed her cloak and spread it out next to him. As gently as possible she rolled him on the cloth. It was better than the sand, if barely.

The man's face was pale, his mouth twisted in pain, and perspiration beaded on his brow. Feeling for his pulse and listening to his breath, Mara was alarmed to find the former racing and the latter fast and shallow. Clearly this was a man of great personal strength, to have endured the amount of pain he was evidently feeling not only long enough to find the rest of the survivors, but even smiling until the last moment.

"Sir, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need to make sure you don't have any broken bones. Don't try to talk - " she quickly warned, "at least not until I've made sure your ribs are whole. If you try to move or talk with a broken rib you might puncture a lung, and even an expert healer with a full range of supplies would be hard pressed to save you then."

Glancing up at the hovering half-orc she ordered, "See if that clerk fellow has found any medicinal herbs. I don't have any with me, and this gentleman is probably going to need something to take the pain away even if by some miracle I find no serious injuries."

With that she returned her full focus to the injured man before her. "First I'm going to check your torso," she explained, though she was saying it as much for her own benefit as for the old man's. Murmuring reassurances, explanations, and apologies when she jostled him, she examined the man thoroughly, wincing at the livid bruises that dappled his chest and back. It seemed that wherever he had washed up, he had hit a number of good-sized boulders first. His feet too were bruised and swollen, though Mara suspected that was the result of his trek to find them. To her surprise and relief, she couldn't detect any broken bones.

"You are probably the luckiest person here," Mara informed the prone figure, relief making her voice light. It didn't matter whether or not he could hear her, she just had to marvel aloud. "From the looks of things you could easily have died just washing ashore. That you not only survived, but then walked the gods only know how far to find us is incredible. You're suffering from dehydration and exhaustion, but aside from those admittedly nasty bruises and a few minor scrapes, you have no injuries at all!"