By the truck:
"Make sure your hands are where I can see them. I don't generally hesitate on things."
The voice of the man hidden in the army truck was hard, almost murderous, and for a second the brown eyed boy known as Kid hesitated. His heart raced wildly in his chest as he stepped out from behind the corner, his arms above his head.
“Noble sir, please don’t shoot! I am only a messenger”, his voice was thin and clearly nervous. Kid didn’t even register the warm trickle of piss making its way down his legs. In the shanty town known as Neon there was no law except that found within establishments such as the Dragon Tavern, and only by his wits had Kid, as the other boys called him, survived the fall of Bleak Wood and the trek through the wastelands. Right now Kid wondered if his wits had finally come to an end, for this didn’t seem very smart after all.
Swallowing hard, he added “There is a man in the alley behind me, and he thinks you are just the sort of man he needs. He has a problem that he thinks you can solve, and he is willing to pay!”
*********************
Inside the Dragon Tavern
Kiph slumped into Ceres’ arms, his knees wobbling beneath him. In the corner of her eye, Ceres registered the elderly man, his head bald and his dress an anonymous green, approach her from the side. He waited patiently for a while, as Ceres, Jonathan and Brevil dressed Kiph’s wounds. Meanwhile the barkeeper bookie approached with a small bag, along with hot water in a bowl. “Your winnings, sir!” he said, handing the calf leather bag to Jonathan. Nodding he put the bowl of water on the same table Brevil had put his medical equipment.
Brevil helped Kiph onto a chair, and Ceres started working on the wounds of the lithe nomad. Finally the dressing had ended, and the cheering abated. The bald, elderly man in green approached. “Greetings, Scorpion, third fighter of the pit” he said, his voice full of respect. “I am Dragon, the owner of this establishment, and I must say that you just gave me a delightful surprise”. He looked at Kiph, the way a merchant appraises his wares, and finally he nodded.
“Wolf was good. He was to meet the second pit fighter in a week, but I guess she doesn’t have to worry about that now”, his smile was genuine as he handed a small cardboard box to Kiph.
“Within are your winnings, in addition to the morning star Wolf wielded” he said.
A man came out of the pit, carrying the morning star. The Dragon nodded, and then passed the morning star on, putting it on the floor beside Kiph. It was bloody and a flap of skin, from Kiph’s midsection, still hung on it.
“Also, let me present you with this”, the Dragon received a medallion, an iron cross, from a man behind him. “We found this in the ruins below. We think it once belonged to great warriors, from before the Great War”. “Some say it is magical…” his voice trailed off and he looked wistful for a moment.
“So, what are you gonna do now?... I could use some fighters, that’s for sure. If you stay with me, I will supply you with all the drugs and booze a man, or woman, could ever need!” he said, his eyes flickering eagerly from Kiph to Ceres and back.
<OOC>
Ceres first aid skill: 67. Dice roll: 28, a success. Even a failure would have dressed the wound, but on a success Ceres is able to patch him up, healing 1D3 damage = 2 points of healing.
(FYI: Medicine rolls are used during long periods of recreation, speeding up the natural rate of healing, while first aid is applied on the spot, like now)
</OOC>