The Savage moved over to the doorway, and Tirarrian could feel the cool night slowly permeate through the fetid air of the hospital. He bathed in it momentarily, and it occured to her how uncomfortable he must be amongst many civilised folk in a small and hot space.

"I will meet your people at the most distinctive tavern before dawn tomorrow." he said, before pulling himself outside. She watched his figure lurch off through the pale light to... Somewhere.

She turned back to the room and set up shop near the front desk, dropping various bags here and there followed by the clunk of her crossbow and sword hitting the floor. She took off her coat, folded it and stood on tiptoes to put it and her hat on the counter. She straightened out her mundane flaxen cloth shirt and noted the sour smell coming off of her. She supposed sleeping in her coat for several days and the action during the day was the way to reach that. She quickly pulled out some rose water and flicked it over herself.

Contented for now she grabbed her needle, thread and balm from the largest bag and moved off towards the first patient, who was suffering from both burns and lacerations. She wished she could doll out whiskey to these people to help with the pain, but things like that were impossible to hide from sailors. She only had basic potion base, which was alcoholic and thus a disinfectant, but it was far too strong for human (but not desperate Gnome) consumption.

If she had been a more practiced medic perhaps her mind would have wondered over the events of the day and the characters she had met, but she wasn't like Kayleth, and simply focused on not poking herself with the needle while she worked through the crowd. She noticed between operations that Kayleth's assistant had started helping out and Kayleth probably wouldn't be far behind. If they all worked as hard as they could Tirarrian might just get some sleep tonight

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