Private Tales No Half Measures

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Karl von Stehlen

The Stalwart Shield
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"When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."
-Harriet Beecher Stowe
"Dammit, old man..." Someone might have heard him, had they been close enough to feel his breath. Not that many would have wanted to get in his way, a humongous young man cladded in black plate, hardly every a good sign. What made things worse was what the armored was doing; around his neck was an arm, to his immediate right was another armored man cladded in silver...an older gentlemen, but by his expression he was in dillirum.

The blackness of his veins that spread across his cheeks was also probably a good indication that somthing was wrong...that, and what looked like black liquid trailing out of his mouth...

"...dammit, dammit, dammit..." His name was Karl, Karl von Stehlen, a noble from a realm not too far from Alliria. Alliria, that was where they were when everything pretty much went to hell. On somthing of a tighten security mission with his mentor, Siegward Kamphaus. The mission went fine, it was a simple escort mission for some of the traders of their realm. It was what happened after the matter that had sent the two into crisis.

They were exiting a one of the many taverns when they encountered some vile bastard. He might have had some sort of grander scheme at play, and thought it would have been prudent to start with the two gentlmen in the armor, blasting Siegward stright in the test with some sort of black magic. It had caught both of them by surprise, no doubt, but incapacitating just one of them was his first mistake; his secound mistake was assuming the same trick would work against Karl.

The bastard's head went flying faster then when Karl drew his blade, the triumphant expression still plastered all over his face even as it soared threw the air. Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it. When Karl had looked back at his mentor, he was coughing up somthing black...

"Sunshine...sunshine..." He muttered over and over, it sounded like delirium, but Karl knew exactly who he was referring to...this wasn't looking good at all.

And now here he was, dragging along his mentor as he kicked in the nearby door. Well, it wasn't some random door, but rather the door of a clinic. It was the closest one that the locals had pointed him towards, and before anyone knew it, Karl had his mentor's arm over his shoulder and was rushing him in that direction. An impressive feat, no doubt, to be able to heft another armored man along.

But yes, the door came crashing open, as the jet-black armored man heaved himself in, dragging along his silver clad mentor...continually muttering about this 'sunshine"...

"There a physician or healer around here?" Sounded rather obvious, given the sign out front, but Karl didn't know what else to say. His mentor was dying? That might be what he had to say next. His expression was rather...neutral, given the circumstances. Even his tone was rather calm, especially as the old man began to spit out more of that black liquid. "Anyone?...Even an apothecarium would do...Is this the right building for the clinic?"
Amelia


Heer Siegward Kamphaus, the Mentor

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With all that had happened in the recent months as Amelia traveled back and forth for her mother it was hard to ever catch her breath. Or so it felt like. Amelia had spent the last few days at home, not doing a thing and quite simply enjoyed herself. Books that she had been meaning to read had been read. Instruments that she had wanted to practice had been practiced. All in all she felt relaxed, enjoyed the moments for as long as they lasted. It was after all just a matter of time before she had to get out there again to be put in mild danger’s way once more.

Her mother was on a house call, and for most of the day her father had taken to doing some of the more administrative work. A few minutes ago however he had gone to the inn to meet with an old friend, and while the shop should have been closed up they knew better than to let that potential customer go to someone else. Amelia had proven herself capable enough to hold her ground with these things now. If anyone would come by, the girl was more than able to treat them. After all, how common was it that their customers had anything all too serious that needed tending to? Not very often at all.

Yet today would quickly turn into a day that was anything but normal. A knight barged through the door and Amelia quickly rose from her seat in her bed to run down the stairs.

“I am a physiscian!” She said and hurried up to the two. “What is the iss-...”

There was no need to ask. She motioned for them to come along with her deeper into the clinic and led them into a room for treatment.

“You will need to get that off of him.” She said and pointed at the man’s armor. “How long has he been coughing this… Ichor?”
 
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It was a feat of strength how much and how fast the young knight was able to drag on his mentor, but it was a fact that came with the territory. Karl would bring forth Siegward, dragging him through the clinic lobby after the women.

Had this been any other situation, Karl would have commended the women for her professionalism, but at the moment they were a bit hard pressed.

"Sunshine...I'm coming...I'm coming"

When Karl was finally able to get his mentor onto what seemed to be an operating table, the knight removed his metal gauntlets and tossed it onto the table. Hands would then automatically flew to Siegward's armor, a hint of what seemed to be an automatic understanding of the armor, with the upper torso being exposed within only moments.

It was a vital part of saving a knights life that they had been trained in, as taking off armor was just as important as putting it on. Drilled tirelessly in the effort, every knight would have been able to administrate some sort of field dressing on the battlefield. Problem at the moment was that this was no ordinary battlefield injury...it had been somthing much more....arcane...even sinister...

Regardless, the knight looked up to the women, his expression not once shifting despite what was transpiring. "More then five minutes. We were at a tavern not to far from here when an unidentified, what I presume to be a mage, ambushed us....he's been coughing up that...stuff, every since..."

By now, Siegward's trust was bear, as Karl manged to undo his undershirt and remove his helmet. His lower body still remained armor, but Karl worked on it...occasionally glancing to the top to check on the progress...
 
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The patient was delirious and talking to himself. Amelia needed to act fast. As Karl got to work unstrapping the armor from his friend, Amelia would procure a set of ingredients from a nearby cabinet. She put it all down on a counter next to where the patient was placed before she began to investigate the man’s body for any potential cuts.

Much like Karl had claimed there seemed to be none. Amelia crossed it off her mental checklist and began to wipe samples of the black bile that poured from the man’s mouth with a small swab that she quickly deposited into a jar. Arcane was far from her experience. Her mother’s clinic had long prided themselves on the fact that they could treat anything without relying on magic, and Amelia was by many means all the same.

Turning on a nearby burner and with a swift reach for a nearby tap she poured water into a wide pyramid shaped vial that she placed on top of the burner’s pointed flame. It needed to heat up which gave her time to prepare the ingredients needed for this.

“He is delirious, he seems to have been poisoned.” Amelia said out loud without turning to look at her patient. “I have treated something similar to this once before, out in the Falwoods. An elven commander had been struck by an ailment not too different from this one.”

She placed the leaves into the mortar and proceeded to create a fine mash, but there was something missing. The girl looked up from her work to stare at the wall before she jumped at a nearby cabinet to withdraw a small tonic. Three pink drops of earth beet juice, one drop of brandy. When mixed and ready the solution would turn into a brown mess with a foul smell nearly comparable to that which it would visually appear to be.

Amelia scrunched her nose and quickly poured the items into the potion vial and let it dissolve. A glove was thrust on to her hand that allowed her to grab the now warm bottle. The burner was turned off, the potion withdrawn and shaken to further help the dissolution of the ingredients.

“And now it just needs to cool down…” She muttered and looked at the murky waters within the glass in her hand. “I know this looks bad, but it’s for stabilizing his condition.”

Taking the glove off of her left hand she let a slender hand touch against the fallen knight’s chin as if to pry his mouth open and pour the contents of the drink inside. Though he tried to struggle the content quickly ran down his throat as his eyes began to roll back and he fell into a slumber.

“It’s an expected side-effect.” She said and gave Karl a look. “This form of corruption works its magic mostly when the subject is aware it is being afflicted. I guess you could say it senses fear in a way.”

“We need to give it a few seconds to kick in proper.” The kid threw the knight another look. “You are saying a mage did this?”
 
While the women worked, Karl finished removing the lower part of Siegfried's armor. It had been a rapid process making sure his mentor's body was exposed to the sawbones to take a look at. The knight could only hope there was somthing to be done for his mentor's condition.

It was a curious sight, the work of a healer. Mixing, pouring, combining ingredients and the like to create a concussion that had the properties of healing. To any common folk, it might have been as simple as cooking...and in many ways it did, least to Karl. You had to know the ingredients you were working with and the necessary outcome you wanted the combination to produce. In the case of a cook, it was the enjoyment of any particular meal. In this particular case, it was the life or death of his mentor.

The women would speak again, catching the eyes of the knight. She had mention somthing about the magic being applied to Siegfried, somthing along the lines of corruption. Magic had always been an oddity to Karl. The knight was by no means innately gifted with the ability, which was actually not as much as a detriment as one may thought, given that his plate armor was able to even the playing field quite a bit for him. On the other hand, Karl had encountered enough mages in his operations to be able to tell the difference.

If only Ace had been with them...they would have seen it coming...

"Indeed...at the very least, it was what I assumed...he wore a robe, and carried various viles not unlike to the ones present in this room...and I was certain he discharged his spell through his hands..." There had been somthing about the fellow that reminded him a lot like the fellows coming in and out of Elbion's college of magic. Though, he couldn't be certain who he was...it had only been less then ten minutes ago since he cleaved off his head. "I know it's not much to go on but...Is this thing curable doc?"
 
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If it had come from a vial it was most likely a poison then. Amelia nodded at the man’s information and made mental notes. The magic could have been used to make it more potent or to send doctors off-track when asking for a re-telling of the fact. Either way there was no telling which of them it was. Amelia would fulfill her duties as a healer if she could.

“Everything is curable to some extent.” The kid said as she began to walk around the room again to gather ingredients at a far more reasonable pace. “From the sound of it your friend was poisoned. He is delirious and is coughing up some form of black bile. The potion I made will do little for his breath, but it should stop him from coughing up.”

From one of the cabinets Amelia would withdraw two dried yet intensely yellow leaves that she deposited into a new mortar. Few things with the word ‘ivy’ in its name had a good effect on the human body, and gilded ivy was no different. While potent and capable of killing a full-grown bull if mishandled, alchemists had long since found that if mixed in just the right dose with the appropriate ingredients and tonics it was one of the most effective antivenom bases. Usually Amelia would never consider it, but given the severity of what was ailing this man it felt appropriate.

“How long have you been knights? Known each other?” She asked the caretaker of her patient to calm any frayed nerves. Her voice was soft like a whisper yet loud enough to be heard, a trick she had picked up from her mother. “I can only imagine what you see from day to day.”

Reaching into a cupboard below the counter she had gotten to work at she began to withdraw three more tonic bottles. One black, one green, one brown. She grabbed the black one first and gently tipped it over. Her finger tapped against the bottleneck to let two drops of a surprisingly clear liquid drip into the bowl. Colovian Firewater was often served as a drink in some parts of the lands, but few ever seemed to remember its medicinal roots. It boosted the drinker’s immune system which made it a popular beverage amongst swamp dwellers and others that lived in places that housed more diseases than there were people alive.
 
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"Hm...do what you can..."

You couldn't tell off the bat that what he was thinking, a common trait that he shared with his older brother. Stoicism a good word to describe that, indifference seemed to be another. From the moment he entered the building to now, the knight had barley seemed to have emoted. Seemed that he was good at keeping his calm under the pressure...or at the very least, he wasn't prone on showing it...

"Knighted?..." Karl asked, looking up in his rather indifferent manner. It was an odd question to be asking now of all times, but the answer almost came automatically. "...Knighted for 8 years...champion for 3 of those years...his my mentor...I've served as his page and squire nearly a third of my life...even now...he means much to me..."

Karl was referring to the old fellow now heaving on the table, as he tilted his head every so slightly at the table. Siegfried might have been the closest thing to a father that Karl every had. Sure there was Otto, but he was always busy and....well, Otto had always treated Karl as a peer. Siegfried, while he was a handful at the best of times, was still a man that taught him many lessons on and off the battlefield. Purpose was another thing that the old man had given Karl...purpose in more forms then one...

It was perhaps all these reason combined that had made the mage's death so quick and concise; the moment he had chosen to assault Siegfried was the moment he had marked himself for death in Karl's eyes.

Karl had always quietly known that old man was going to kick the bucket long before he himself did. But not like this...the old man always wanted to go out defending the Strojland people in a blaze of glory...or quietly on the front porch of their home, content on the life he lived...

This mage could very well rob Siegfried of that...Karl knew better then anyone...and like his days as a page and squire...there was not a chance he was to leave his side.

"We do what we must...much like yourself..." Karl said, closing his eyes and shaking his. Partly to clear his head so he could refocus, partly to dissuade credit. There was really nothing special about being a knight, he didn't even mention that he was technically a noblemen...a fact he was more then comfortable to omit all together. "...it is the life we're given, and we do our best to make the best of it...but I'd say you have it harder...any fool can kill a man, but putting him back together? Isn't what I call an easy feat...especially considering somthing like...this..."
 
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The brown bottle was a bit of a rarity, but when dealing with the arcane it was inevitable that something naturally rare would have to be used in a struggle against something that was magically enhanced. Karenian mushroom sap was hard to acquire and required whole expeditions that ventured deep underground just to get one dose of it. A single violet and blue shimmering drop of the liquid fell into the mortar and quickly began to seep into the materials, causing a slight pink fog roll over the bowl’s edges.

“It can be hard to lose a mentor, but we’ll do what we can to ensure that doesn’t happen.” Amelia said and gave the knight a smile before she turned back towards the mortar again. “And I wouldn’t say my job is any more difficult than yours or anyone else, it’s all about the skills and the opportunities to learn.”

Amelia stirred a spoon through the salve before she opened the final flask which was quite simply fresh mineral water from the mountains themselves, the kind of water nobles would drink on the regular due to the added minerals it carried. Naturally it was all bunkum, but despite that there was something to the water that bound all the ingredients together. Her mother had tried to explain it to her but Amelia hadn’t quite understood. The water had healing benefits, yet at the same time it did not. It didn’t make much sense to her. All Amelia knew was that it worked.

As the mineral water brushed against the salve the pink fog from would dissipate in an instant. The violet-blue shimmer grew more intense and with it she grabbed a far bigger spoon and held it before her.

“Could you hold his mouth open for me?” She asked the knight as she raised the solution before her. It seemed otherworldly almost. If you stared too long at it, it would seem as if you stared into a violet-blue spoonful of the heavenly void beyond the skies. Star-like shimmers beckoned them closer, and yet despite that the salve was pushed down the fallen knight’s throat where it would slowly descend into his stomach.

For the first time since the knights had arrived, Amelia would take a seat and simply look at her patient.

“We have one more step after this.” She said and let out a deep exhale to let go of her nerves. “We stopped him from spewing the bile. This solution will be digested into his bloodstream.” Almost as if on cue a violet-blue sheen through the man’s veins. “It is seeking out all traces of magic and binding it to itself for later… Uhhh, expulsion.”

Amelia cleared her throat and scratched at her neck in embarrassment.

“Because step three is laxatives.”
 
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Karl said nothing even as the healer continued to mix her potion, instead his eyes more contempt at starring at the man on the examination bench. Death was always a reality that has been accepted for the greater good, for the people that they had vows to protect. Yet it didn't make loss any easier, no amount of drilling could every make it easier...a brotherhood broken because of a life cut short, having known them for nearly all his life...

And now Siegfried...dying...

All such things ran through his mind as the knight watched her work. Hardly a person would have thought he was worried by his expression to every word she said, as it showed only a matter of indifference. An cold expression despite the situation...even as Karl closed his eyes, it appeared as if he was being dismissive of what Amelia had just said.

Karl just needed more time.

'...hold his mouth open...' The doc spoke once more, words that ended snapped Karl back into reality, as his eyes darted over to Amelia's. The knight hardly hesitated on the command, as he moved his hands over to his mentor's mouth, sliding it open and holding it steady. It was not an unfamiliar motion; those still breathing on a battlefield at times need to consume potions to keep them breathing. The doc would then begin pouring...some strange liquid into his mentor's mouth. Perhaps it was within one's line of someone to question, but...strange curses might required strange cures.

Karl had this exact temperament, not even raising an eyebrow at the suggested solution.

"Very well." Karl nodded without hesitation nor embarrassment. The knight was more focused on getting magic out of his mentor then on the method itself. Besides, it wasn't the first time Karl had to get somthing out of the old man.

"What sort of laxative are you proposing? Does he just need to consume it?" Karl lifted his hand off of his mentor, resting them on the table as he looked towards the doc in front of him with a rather inquisitive expression...
 
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It was a downside to the method. As the blood and the poultice passed through the knight’s body it would cake up and gather additional layers until the small caked up mess would turn into a stone that undoubtedly hurt to pass. But perhaps given the alternatives, death wasn’t as preferable of an alternative as passing a stone from your body was.

“Trevain root extract.” Amelia said and approached yet another cabinet to withdraw a tiny little bottle. She put it before the caregiver, Karl. “It is bitter, but he’s evidently been through worse before.”

She gave the knight a meek smile before she picked up a small notepad to make note of the ingredients that had been used in treating the older knight. It seemed that with each slip that dragged against the paper of her notes her eyebrows furrowed deeper and deeper with concern.

“We’re building up quite a bill.” She said and looked over at Karl, and then at the notepad. “This might not be very cheap.”

A slow sigh blew through her nose.

“We usually ensure that clients can pay, but this was an emergency. We’re up to twenty-eight aurums at this point.” That was two-hundred eighty args, twenty-eight hundred cupps. The ingredients had been rare but efficient. Amelia glanced at the medicine cabinet again and began to wonder if there could have been any other treatment, but there were none she could remember. Not that she was particularly well-versed in treatment of magical ailments beyond what she had observed of her mother years ago.

“We can… Probably work out a deal if that is too much.”
 
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Karl looked over at the vial as the women spoke, gingerly picking it up and giving it a closer look. Rather peculiar item, to boot...hopefully it would do some good in preventing his mentor from kicking.

Something that did mentally kick Karl, on the other hand, was when the healer mentioned the bill.

Twenty-hundred aurums was a hefty amount, it almost caught the knight off guard...at least until he remembered they weren't in Strojland, where the medical service where the medical institution were sponsored. Still...didn't mean that the treatment couldn't be afford; Karl's Order put a great deal of care in the preservation of their members. Might have not been pretty to look at, but if it really came down to it...there wouldn't be much of a debate about weather or not to send the money...maybe some grumbling....

They're order would probably also want to investigate this incident first hand...there may be somthing to gain about studying what had transpired, especially with the armor his mentor wore...it might have been technically a lower grade then Karl's, but it should have at least negated most of the blast....

Then she spoke once more, now about a ...deal...

"If there is a proposal you have...I'd like to hear it out at least..." Karl said simply, examining the vial that he held.

It was clear the knight was somthing along the lines of skilled in his craft, wouldn't be the first time that Karl used his skills in an exchange, especially if it would alleviate some of the financial burden on his Order and people. But Karl was no mercenary. Anything that went against his Creed or a detriment to his nation was off the table...wouldn't be a pretty sum, but it was a price that Karl was willing to make an argument for in order to save the wisdom currently lying on that table....
 
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Trade had never been Amelia’s forte. While she understood the value of medicine she had never really been one who partook in the clerical aspects of her practice. More often than not she had found that her own part in treatment was just that, treatment. Her mother had run a clinic for nearly a century, and her father had always been a wanderer.

The girl’s mouth opened as she struggled to find the words. Where did a good salesman even start? What was a reasonable cost for saving someone’s life? Would that put a price on people, and if so was that right? So many questions began to flood her mind, interrupted only by the sound of the door opening outside and the ringing of a bell.

A deep voice called out into the corridors. “Amelia?”

“Father!” She called out, cautiously thankful for the interruption. The sound of boots slowly making their way towards the treatment area echoed down the empty hallway until eventually Amelia’s father stepped into the room. Though initially surprised to see two knights within the confines of the clinic his shock quickly transitioned into a lighthearted grin. His almost perfect set of white teeth was a stark contrast to his otherwise chocolate-like complexion. The robes on his shoulder spoke of a man who held status, yet the scars across his body spoke of someone that was no stranger to the harsh reality of life.

“Well, I certainly did not expect this.” He said and gave the knights a slight bow out of respect and courtesy. “Morgan Eastwater, one half of the duo that currently own this clinic.”

“They need… A deal.” Amelia said and rubbed at the back of her neck out of embarrassment.

“A deal? What for?” He asked and the grin quickly dropped as he gave the girl a most serious look. “They haven’t done anythi-”

“One of them were poisoned, I had to expel the magic and… I never asked if they could afford such a treatment before I did it.”

The man gave his daughter a lingering look before his grin re-appeared again.

“So you are sorry that you did the right thing?” He simply said with a small laugh. Amelia’s face turned red as she tried to deal with her emotions. The father meanwhile turned his attention back towards the knights. “Sorry, the child takes after her mother as well. I’m trying to… File the sharp edges down a bit.”

Morgan balled his hand into a fist that he placed against his chin with a contemplative look at the two knights.

“Where are you from? Maybe we could arrange some form of… Protection deal?” Morgan asked and lowered his hand again. “We have regular shipments coming in from across the world, same as we often times send a few shipments of medicines and remedies to those that request them.”

“If we have something that is to be sent homeward for you, we could send it with you?”
 
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Karl's face did not change as he looked to the young women, hands still swirling the vial in his hands as he awaited an answer. The knight didn't often had to negotiate himself unless it was somthing more minor like supplies or lounging on extended missions away from the realm. Bigger things likes these were more Otto's forte...

Still, you wouldn't know by looking at him, way too calm for the situation pertain. Perhaps he just awaited for her to put forth assignment details. It was a good anchoring point if any...least from what little Karl did of negotiating...to start with.

However, not but a few moments after Karl had brought forth a request, another individual had entered the inner workings of the clinic. The man carried about with a him a sense of confidence that projected authority when he strided, yet there was an air of humility that was present in his action, especially when interacting with what one could assume was her daughter.

Karl could only bow back in response, out of common courtesy as a guest in their clinic...especially for having bursted onto the scene so suddenly. The knight waited on the sideline, listening to the conversation...before the man had turned to speak with him.

"She has done...remarkably well under the circumstances..." Karl spoke, meaning those words. Though they were in a rather stabilized environment, her action seem seemed to mimic the speed and action of trained surgeons tending to the wounded. Remarkable might have been an understatement for someone of her age. "...I think you have a lot to be proud of...if you don't mind me saying...sir..."

The man did look to be his senior, despite the circumstance...it would have been disrespectful not to refer to him as such, especially considering he was the one whom offered up a deal.

"I'm from the Strojland Confederacy, sir...the mountain ranges located before you approach the Falwoods..." It was a nation nestled in the valley of the mountain ranges, mountains that often stood off in the distance as one traveled. While it was a hub for trade, and that was as much as most people really knew of it. A good deal of people simply either past through without much the locale or past by on one of the neighboring realms. "...Sir, our realm has our own medical corp...I do not know if you do business with us...but if it is somthing to help alivate the cost of the...procedure done...then I would see no harm in offering my services in exchange."

The "service" in question would be offered to a rather neutral party, independent from any nation's intreast. In that, case it didn't seem to go against his oath to protect his realm...
 
“Naturally, I am very proud of my daughter.” Morgan said and pulled Amelia in closer for a quick hug by his side as he shook her just the slightest. “She doesn’t pick up on all of her mother’s bad habits after all.”

He let his daughter go and slowly began to nod along as the knight spoke. Amelia began to unfold from her embarrassed state as well to listen with what they were saying and to take in what her father would negotiate for. She got out a small book and pen to make notes with as the conversation went on.

“We don’t have many dealings within the Stroiland Confederacy in particular.” Morgan said as he began to think of ways to have them repay. “But we do have a delivery that we need to have sent to Vel Anir.”

He turned to look at the knights.

“It’s mostly medicine and dried herbs, a few medical notes for old colleagues of mine.” The man said and slowly began to nod his head. “If you are alright with such a task, maybe we could find some sort of arrangement? No monetary payment necessary, given the distance such travel would bring about.”

“We know of a courier that can be relied upon to carry the items from your home to Vel Anir, should you rather not go that far out of your way.” Morgan shrugged. “Which would be understandable, it’s quite the distance.”
 
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Karl might have no displayed any outward emotion, but inside he cringed. Out of the three great cities on the immediate continent, Vel Anir was perhaps the most disagreeable for the knight. Despite sharing both realms sharing similar population demographic and having a non-aggression treaties, the Confederation was vigilante against the larger realm. Even with the Confederation itself being tucked safely behind the Falwoods, the Anirian's tendency of annexation of smaller city-states left many Confederates weary of their so-called "Western Brothers and Sisters".

Karl himself had visited Vel Anir on a number of occasion for various reasons, primarily out of a duty to accomplish a mission for the Confederation. But if he had to speak freely of Vel Anir, he'd simply state that he would rather visit another city.

But in a sense, honor dedicated otherwise; not the honor of that of a knight, but that of a human being. These people had saved the life of his mentor, so it would only be fair that Karl undertook this mission. It would not be the first time that the knight had served in a courier role. Long as it was only a delivery, Karl had but one choice to accept...at least, in his mind.

"Of course, I accept, it would not be a problem." The knight nodded, placing the vial that was given to him earlier back onto the table, looking towards his mentor. The old man seemed to have stabilized, if at least for a bit...he'd owe him another one when things were said and done...but for now...

"I do have one request...if you will allow for it..." Karl said, turning back to the father-daughter pair, his expression hardly pivoting for a moment. "...could you keep my mentor rested here until he is strong enough to ride...I can at least pay for lounging at this given moment..."