An anon revealed!
umber-penumbra submitted: From the darkness in front of you peels a stoic figure, unnaturally tall, and winged, with taloned feet that click gently on the floor. His eyes, a mirror of your own injury, glint in the newfound light, but it is not an unkind face. There’s a sadness in his pale features masked by a strength of duty.
“You say ‘your’ infirmary, but you would be smart to remember that it is my domain. You are naught but a steward of this grey realm.”
He takes a few steps forward to stand beside you in the light, giving you an indifferent sideways look before continuing towards the scuffling unkindness across the room. Fully illuminated the man, if he is that, has long cobalt hair pulled into a loose bun, scaled digitigrade legs, and dull blue grey and white wings that brush the ground as he passes. He walks with a glaive in hand, but makes no move to use it as anything other than a walking stick.
“I’ll ask you in simpler terms. Why medicine?”
Aldous Haswell had seen many strange things in his life. He had met a glitched geist. He had good relations with a young man with black goop inside his emptied, hallowed body. The slew of odd people, and beings, he had come to know over his years in the mercenary business never seemed to surprise him. After all, being exposed to such strangeness… one got used to it.
Or so he thought.