Will was a bit surprised when he heard Aldrich says something about the Calibur sword, how did he know about that, well probably it was common knowledge by now.
“The Calibur Blade you say…” Will said, looking at Aldrich. At this moment, Will knew more about that than Aldrich would. Though he couldn’t tell him right away, they would have to dual him to get it.
“The rumors are true but then again anything can happen.” Will shrugs, standing back on his feet. “I suppose it is enough, for today.” He said. “Though I’ll keep a close eye on you and if there are more questions, I will not hesitate to ask them.”
Will then made his way to his table and sat down, eating his food.
In the morning, Candall feels aches all across his body. He struggles to get up. Valerie ends up helping him by retrieving his leaves from his pack. She rubs them upon his chest and belly, while Candall twisted his fingers to give himself healing.
“That takes a load off,” Candall remarked, now feeling much better.
“Good, because it’s time for breakfast,” Valerie remarked.
Candall placed upon his clothes, gambeson padding, and his armor. He took his sword and shield and placed them on his back and side. Valerie would place on her “Marybird” costume and brigandine. She put her sword on her hip, and carried her violin at her side via a strap. Then, they headed downstairs together.
In the inn’s restraunt, Candall ends up ordering a hearty breakfast of sausage, eggs, and hash-browns. Valerie simply orders hotcakes.
The window gently opens. And within was quite the spectacle. That creeping stench of iron and rot reaches it’s zenith as they see…
…Fran, sat on the bed, or at least that’s what it appeared to be. Her armour laid dumped in the corner, scattered about the floor were plates of her “skin”. Half her body had its plates torn off, without any prescion or care to the action if the bloodstains were anything to go by. On the floor a small pool of congealing blood had grown from the wounds on her skinless flesh.
Fran clutched her estoc. The blade pointed towards her own throat, and very slightly pushed in. No blood from that wound however. It hadn’t seemed to pierce her yet. And judging from her slumped stance she seemed to have passed out before she had a chance to complete this grisly act.
“No!” Clawripper cries, forcing his way past Reyna, and partially breaking the window. He picked up Fran’s limp form in his claws. “Why would she do this?”
“You!” He said, looking at Reyna. “Start collecting the plates, we’ll need to reattach them. And unlock the door.”
Aldrich crawls over to Fran, his face a mixture of Horror and despair… After he realises she’s still breathing he relaxes slightly and cradles her head in his arms “Its alright… you’re alright” he whispers… Clawripper, and Reyna would notice tears slowly trickling down Aldrich’s cheeks as he gently sobbed holding his unconscious ally.
Reyna was silent. She could do nothing, shocked. She fell to her knees. “Is she…” She can’t even form the words as she held back her tears, her scream, her…everything.
“Listen,” Clawripper said, firm but gentle. “I know that you both are devastated, but she’ll die if we don’t get her plates back on, so help me pick them up” Clawripper then begins to pick up Fran’s plates.
“I wonder what that’s 'bout?” he asks his wife. He gets up from the table and starts to head upstairs. He sees the others around Fran’s room, and he starts to become concerned.
“She’s alright… for now…” Aldrich replies Hoarsely “We’ll need wine a cooking pot, and bandages, these wounds need disinfecting then binding…”
“I don’t think that would be the wisest decision, she may try to remove them again, for the moment keep them safe Clawripper. Right now she needs rest and healing”
There was a sound. The grinding of porcelain upon porcelain as her shuttered eyelids scrunched up in an instinctive response to the scream.
Followed by quiet words.
“Shh shh.” Fran subconsciously rambled. “You don’t need to cry. I’ll be here for you…the others must be waiting for you…so please don’t hurt yourself…”
“I believe it had something to do with what she was saying last night. We should ask her about it when she’s ready… if we press to hard we may only make things worse”
Candall takes the leaves, starts to form a small circle with them, and places them upon Fran. Then, he raises his head, stretches out his arms, and starts to chant silently to himself, to disperse the infections.
The noise wakes Siansa up and she walks out of her room, with some ease. She walks downstairs to see what the commotion is about. She sees Reyna and replies, “What kind of medical knowledge?”