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Ch. 2

Clarin stood panting, the inn around her deathly silent. The small oil lamps rocked back and forth on their hooks, as if on a ship at sea. The entire patronage of The Drunken Kraken lay unconscious. Clarin fought of her body's urge to collapse, summoning a reserve of strength she grabbed her friend who was bleeding beside her. She reached towards one of the unconscious attackers, her short-sword removing a piece of his sleeve. She folded the cloth into a neat square and pressed it against the wound. Alrick moaned slightly, his body stiffening for a second. "I'm sorry Al," She said running her hand across his cheek, "I know it hurts, but hang on for me okay?" She said on the verge of tears.

"I'm... not... going... anywhere..." He said, as his eyes opened for a moment. He gave her a weak smile, before his eyes closed again. His breathing sounded pained, even in his current state.

Clarin looked quickly around the inn, she needed some way to move her friend who was nearly twice her size. Some of the tables had broken and splintered from multiple people falling onto the cheap wood. There was also a long green carpet running down the stairs to the second floor. She stood up from her crouched position over her friend and moved determinately to the staircase. She grabbed up the carpet and yanked, the green and fowl smelling material tumbled down around her. She grabbed two table legs from the broken furniture around her, and wrapped them in the carpet. The improvised litter would have to work. She wasn't sure how she did it, but she lifted Alrick up and gently placed him onto the thing. She pulled him carefully over the wooden floor, making sure to avoid the broken glass, and slumping bodies as not to make his injuries worse.

She got him out of the inn door, and back into the wood-planked streets of the city. A book in front of you can distract you from a blade behind, Alrick's words echoed in her ears. She turned around, keeping her ears cocked. "I need to find a doctor, and fast." She whispered to herself. Where in this filthy hole of a city will I find one of those? She thought, I don't think any sane physician would be caught near this place. She sighed and looked at her friend, if he were awake, he could probably tell her where to go.

She gently lowered him onto the streets, some instinct telling her to go back to the ship. She turned towards the brightly colored sails out in the harbor. With a sigh, she began to move slowly past all of the wooden buildings. In any other place in Meridian, these structures would look charming or pleasant, but here and now they stood intimidating on either side. Sailors of all sizes, shapes, and species looked on with a mixture of casual inquiry and malicious intent, yet no one bothered her, no one helped her either. Maybe it was something to do with the look on her face, a dark scowl glaring forward to the slowly growing sails. Suddenly though, someone ran out in front of her. She was surprised by a small white fox, with long ears. He grabbed her tail and started shaking it, pulling her off to the left. "Go away you little urchin!" She snapped, slapping her tail up and down, and jostling the child off of her.

The fox didn't seem shaken. He grabbed the other end of the litter and started to pull Alrick somewhere else. "LEAVE HIM ALONE." She shouted.

The fox locked eyes with her, his green eyes shimmered with a purple glow, just for a second. Clarin heard a voice in her head, small and childlike. It said, "Trust me, I want to help."

She didn't know why, but she started following the young creature, as he turned off into a side-street. She looked ahead, a large circular building came into view with the crossed spears of the Fighter's Guild logo upon the door. To the right of that building sat a two story building, made of stone bricks instead of wood, with a sign hanging above the door emblazoned with twin serpents wrapped around a winged staff. A doctor, she thought, or a charlatan.

"He's no charlatan I promise." The voice in her head said again.

"Who are you?" She finally asked the fox.

"I am Finnegan," The voice said again, "I am an assistant to Doctor... Well, he doesn't really have a name... I call him Dr. Iron."

"Oh." The squirrel said as the two gently ascended into the lobby of the building. The scent of medicinal spirits hung in the air. Well kept books lined the shelves, the oaken writing desk held a propped open anatomy book on the bookstand. There was a hissing sound, followed by a clank from upstairs. The fox ran up the stairs, there was a muffled voice from above. The hiss-clank repeated drawing closer and closer down the stairs. The squirrels mouth fell agape. She had seen many constructs at the academy, but none like this. The Mechanical doctor was vaguely humanoid in shape, if you describe humanoid as metallic, with a large arm, and no real facial features. The robot was about six feet tall, dwarfing her completely. She blinked a little, looking at him.

"What happened?" He asked Clarin.

"There was a bar fight, a ferret stabbed him in the side, I think he's lost a lot of blood."

"Right then," the physician said, lifting him up and carrying him upstairs. "There's no time to lose here."

Almost in a trance state, shock finally taking hold, Clarin climbed up the stairs towards the operating room. The room was large and lit with multiple lamps, all focused with clever metal dishes onto the stone table in the center of the room. The doctor set Alrick onto the table, opening his shirt with surgical scissors. He felt in the wound, "No sign of broken glass," he said, analyzing the injury carefully. He gripped Alrick's wrist. "Pulse weak, about forty beats every minute." The doctor walked over to a box nearby, pulling out a bottle, and pouring it on the wound. "You're friend will be alright now, but you got him here just in time."

Clarin sat back on one of the two stools in the room. "Finnegan," the doctor called looking at the fox, "get me one of those phials we always keep around, the one marked with..." The doctor put his finger into his mouth, "O." Finnegan ran out the door, and came back with a large bottle, emblazoned with a black O, the bottle appeared to be filled with blood.

The squirrel stood up, "What are you doing to him?"

"Saving his life, I assure you," The doctor said, motioning for her to sit down again, "this will be a bit cold I'm afraid." He attached the bottle with an improvised tool, a syringe securely fastened to the end of a catheter, the other end was held in place on the end of the bottle by a cap with a hole in it, just the size for the tube to run through. He placed the needle into the young wolf's arm. "This is a process I invented," the doctor said watching the flow travel through the tube. "I taste the blood to gauge the type, and I match that to one of the categories I've divided them into."

The doctor lifted a large spool of thread off the table, and skillfully looped the thread through a needle. Clarin watched as the holes in her friends side were stitched carefully closed. The doctor then picked up a syringe and a small medicine phial. He pulled out the plunger, filling the needle with a greenish substance. "A medicine that will help stave off infection in his wounds, from anything that was on that bottle." The doctor said looking at the squirrel. "He should be fine, but just to be safe, I'm going to monitor him overnight, I didn't detect any major damage during the exam, other than the deep cuts on his side." The doctor walked over to a small basin sitting on a nearby drawer. He dipped his hands into it, and placed his hands over a candle, causing them to ignite in a small flame. He rubbed his hands together for a moment, before putting them out. He patted Clarin on the head, "You look like you need some rest, I have a couple free beds downstairs if you want to stay with him." The doctor offered.

Clarin was tempted, but something more got in the way. With a sigh she walked over to the unconscious wolf, "Don't worry, I won't be far." She said to him, "I would like to stay here, but unfortunately I've got business to attend to." She turned to the doctor, "If anything changes, I'll be on the Dragon Maw." She held Alrick's hand for a second, before she turned to walk out the door.

Her mind kept rolling over and over along the way back to the ship. She kept thinking about how many missions the two of them had gone on in service of their queen. She kept thinking about how many times both of them had been injured in their past. Every time both of them managed to pull through okay. She looked up at the green ship, bobbing back and forth gently in the tide. One day though, one day one of us might not pull through, she thought as she walked up the gangplank. The ship's crew saluted her as she walked down to her cabin under the deck. "Agent Clarin reporting." The squirrel said, opening the door to the dim cabin.

"I've been waiting a while, is everything okay, did we get him?" The nameless Black Brother said, hanging from the rafter (as bats are prone to do). The spy dropped down from the ceiling, standing on his wings and his small back feet.

"I am sorry Brother, but we were not able to get him." She sighed, throwing herself onto the bed. "There's going to be some rams waiting for us when we get home."

"What happened?" The Brother asked, not sure if he should be concerned or annoyed.

"A ferret unknown tried to take out Al with a bottle. Someone must have cast an Eyebite spell on the bar patrons, because they went crazy. One minute everything's fine, the next everyone's jumping at our throats." She shook her head sadly, without meaning to she started to cry.

The bat was a little perplexed, he was able to feign emotion on the job, and feign empathy with others... But actually empathizing with someone else was a bit out of his wheelhouse. Not knowing what else to do, he wrapped his wing around the squirrel. Only to have her place her face on his chest. He started to blush a little, Ohhh boy, he thought, I just hope that none of the others find out about this, otherwise I'll never hear the end of it. He thought, and my fur's getting all wet. He sat completely lost, attempting to comfort someone who outranked him in the queen's service. What a weird position to be in with a superior...