Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Richard Harrington Summerby (the_richard) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"Right. Didn't even think to look to the plant world for a counter. He popped easily to his feet and walked over to the abandoned sword, sending his fighting robes back to his flat and keeping only his workout clothes. Picking up the sword he deactivated the trap spell, pushing the released magic into the blade. "This is yours, by the way. At least until I get the goblins to make you your own set. Partly charged with your own magic, too. Roll over and grab it. It will give you something to think about while I see what you've done to yourself."

Rich handed the blade hilt-first to Dora and reached down the back of his collar for his healing wand. "Obviously, this did not happen, I am not a healer." He touched the tip of the wand to the side if his neck and whispered a small spell. "Now, I can immobilize your legs while I do this or you can hold real still for me. Cleaning up what you did to your knees will be delicate work if I don't want to leave any scars."

He touched the tip of his wand to the knot he'd given her on the side of the head to take away the pain and the lump. That sort of thing he could still do quick and easy. When you'd trained to heal dragons, you worked fast and did big magics. But during the war Alicia had taught him delicate work, people healing. It didn't make him a real healer, but he was as good as any of the trauma healers at St. Mungoes.

"And the next thing for you to think about after you decide what sort of a patient you'll be, is where did things start going wrong for you when we fought?"