The siltori's eyes softened with the doctor's declaration, and a bow of her head relayed her gratitude. "You are most kind, Mr. Faust." The softness in her gaze hardened a little as she turned to Asmodei. "Was that so hard?" She asked so very matter-of-factly.
The avialae merely rolled his eyes and turned away from both the elf and the man. That was until Cyrus shared his own story with them, and both avialae and siltori looked to him with surprise. One another exchanged a glance, then Fayeth bowed her head.
"You're brave to share such things so openly. I'm sorry for the hardships you've faced at the hands of others. It's good that you found your true mother through it, however." Her eyes watched his hands while he worked. Obviously, the practice of pushing a tube into the chest of another was dangerous in itself. But, she trusted in his judgement and smiled when the Rathari's breathing normalized.
"We really did pick the right doctor this time," offered the siltori with a kind gaze. "Just how bloody are your hands, Mr. Faust? Where do you draw the line and where do your loyalties lie?" The glare of her crimson eyes was set on him with piqued interest. Some might find her gaze unsettling, as it carried a distinctly dark hunger, and a veiled, but burning hatred.
"Chitchat aside," spoke the avialae abruptly, "amputation isn't ideal, but understandable given the circumstances. Salvaging the elbow would help, as it's not likely we'll be able to convince a necromancer or artificer to help given his circumstances. Prosthetics are an option with his elbow intact." He needn't say more. The odds of a licensed artificer or a necromancer voluntarily helping a nameless were next to nothing. Nameless criminals? Blood from a stone.
The wounds on the arm were severe. Broken bones poked through the scales in two parts, buckled from a heavy impact. Bleeding beneath the scales showed in the form of a darkened bruise that spread out from the punctured scales and crept up toward the elbow before fading into it's normal coloration. Saving the arm would take leagues of skill, months of surgery and plenty of luck... but the elbow? It appeared intact.
"If you could close the wound on his eye too, that would be grand. I fear it will become infected again otherwise."
The avialae merely rolled his eyes and turned away from both the elf and the man. That was until Cyrus shared his own story with them, and both avialae and siltori looked to him with surprise. One another exchanged a glance, then Fayeth bowed her head.
"You're brave to share such things so openly. I'm sorry for the hardships you've faced at the hands of others. It's good that you found your true mother through it, however." Her eyes watched his hands while he worked. Obviously, the practice of pushing a tube into the chest of another was dangerous in itself. But, she trusted in his judgement and smiled when the Rathari's breathing normalized.
"We really did pick the right doctor this time," offered the siltori with a kind gaze. "Just how bloody are your hands, Mr. Faust? Where do you draw the line and where do your loyalties lie?" The glare of her crimson eyes was set on him with piqued interest. Some might find her gaze unsettling, as it carried a distinctly dark hunger, and a veiled, but burning hatred.
"Chitchat aside," spoke the avialae abruptly, "amputation isn't ideal, but understandable given the circumstances. Salvaging the elbow would help, as it's not likely we'll be able to convince a necromancer or artificer to help given his circumstances. Prosthetics are an option with his elbow intact." He needn't say more. The odds of a licensed artificer or a necromancer voluntarily helping a nameless were next to nothing. Nameless criminals? Blood from a stone.
The wounds on the arm were severe. Broken bones poked through the scales in two parts, buckled from a heavy impact. Bleeding beneath the scales showed in the form of a darkened bruise that spread out from the punctured scales and crept up toward the elbow before fading into it's normal coloration. Saving the arm would take leagues of skill, months of surgery and plenty of luck... but the elbow? It appeared intact.
"If you could close the wound on his eye too, that would be grand. I fear it will become infected again otherwise."
