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Tavern of Legend: Season 2

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Carol spread the stretcher out onto the ground next to the man. He was obediently holding his bag of plasma up, which was almost already empty. The wounds stopped bleeding due to Carol's tourniquet, blocking blood flow to exit the wounds. The blown arm still hand an end of exposed flesh and nerve. The foot was nasty, covered with dirt, blood, and shrapnel. Carol went behind the man's head.

"Okay, we are going to lift you up onto the stretcher," Carol spoke kindly.

She wrapped her hands around his back and signaled the woman to pick up the legs. They gently placed the man onto the stretcher.

"Hey, need some more morphine or are you doing ok?" she asked, still supplied with the painkiller. 

"I don't need any of your drugs, doc," the man responded, weak from exhaustion and blood loss. 

Carol took ahold of her side of the stretcher, gripping the wooden poles with all of her strength. She waited for the woman too follow suite.

@yourstruly

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Myriana quickly grabbed hold of the opposite side of the stretcher, and together they hoisted him up. They started walking back towards the tavern, small groans emitting from the wounded man with every jostle of the stretcher. As they passed the doorway, the witch gazed up at the healer with a questioning look.

"Where do we place him?" She asked, surprisingly not at all short of breath. 

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Bella returned to the tavern from the previous battle. She looked extremely tired. Her leg had a cut from where the Dragonkin's spear hit her. Poisonous ooze continued to flow from the wound, although it had started to close. Her usually pale skin was even paler. She collapsed to the tavern floor out of exhaustion and took some rest.

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Conrad who was sipping his drink quietly was watching the events unfold before his eyes in silence. He was unsure whether he should interfere In this taverns problems or not. But he would finally decide that his honor as a knight and a von Appledorf he must provide aid. So he finished his drink and stood up and said," It appears I have walked into something that may require a Von Appledorfs hand, may I ask how I may be off assistance "?

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Carol guided the body to the area of beds and gently laid the stretcher onto the floor next to a cot. She picked the man on her own and put him onto the bed. She looked at his eyes, pale and desperate.

"Well, just rest a little for now. No more fighting for at least a month. That arm is going to need be stitched up and healed before anything else. I am no surgeon, and I am a little busy right now."

Carol heard a faint crash, and turned around. It was Bella, visibly exhausted and wounded. Carol rushed to her assistance as the man from earlier approached her. His offer for assistance was reassuring, as an extra two hands would be very good. She spritzed the wound with the sulfa powder and added a tourniquet. The wound just needed to be wrapped up, which was easily down. Carol took out a small bowl and added some anti poison leaves. She mixed it with some dragon saliva, making a universal anti-poison. She gave it to the man to feed to Bella. She gave the woman a bag of plasma to attach to via IV drip after approximately 1 hour.

"I need to go help fight. Take care of her, ok?" With that note, Carol rushed off to the battlefield with her Luger in her left hand. She was determined to save anyone she could and rid the evil menace they were fighting.

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" Thank you" Bella whispered in a quiet voice as Carol and the man tended to her wound. She panicked a bit as they touched her. She warned them, worried, to watch out for the poison. Whatever powder Carol had put on her wound, it made her feel better. She started to relax and slept right there on the floor.

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Myriana watched the others flit about with a calm look. Her eyes narrowed in on the hand she left resting on the counter as she walked over to join it. Plopping down in the barstool, the witch stretched and relaxed, settling in to wait for the next bout of action.

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The creaky wooden door of the tavern suddenly burst open, a feminine silhouette standing in the dark doorway which acted as a frame to the picturesque night sky behind her. Her features were not apparent until she stepped into the light, her brilliantly emerald eyes standing out in a tan face splattered with blood that had stained her long wheat-toned curls of hair red in odd places. 

Her thin-lipped expression seemed misplaced in her soft face, nimble fingers quickly sheathing her blade before she entered into the tavern walls. The leather sword belt hung low on her hips, not matching the simplistic forest green dress of a middle-class woman whooshing around her ankles as she strode quickly over to the bar. After placing dusty hands on the chipped wooden tabletop, she leaned in to whisper to the bartender in a low voice, "Your strongest ale please and a pale of water before that." 

The bartender raised his brows at the request of the second item but nodded nonetheless. His eyes scrutinized her appearance as he looked her over from head to toe before turning to find her what she needed. Azra threw two gold coins over the counter, then made her way to a secluded corner booth near the hearth that crackled with orange flame. 

After falling into her seat, the female's head dropped into her hands. A few seconds passed as she remained there, drooped shoulders eventually lifting as she let out a deep sigh. 

It had to be done. All I need is a quick moment to clean up then I'll be out of here.

The bartender arrived shortly after that, heaving a bucket filled with cool, clear water to the ground at her feet before placing an ale mug in front of her.

Azra drained the mug, then got to work splashing the water onto her face. Drops of bloodied water fell back into the bucket as she cleaned her face, turning the previously crystalline liquid into a red-brown mixture.

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Not long after the Bartender passed the young woman her bucket and ale, a strange man walks into the Tavern. He walks with his head held high, a pompous sort with reptilian eyes. He walks up to the bar and demands to speak with "The master of this establishment."

Vaddock says, "What's up, pal?"

The man hisses at the too friendly address, and says, 

"My glorious leader, slayer of many and master of Dragons demands that all ye vacate now, lest he bring down his wrath upon your wretched souls!"

Vaddock laughs and says, "What, does he have an army?"

The man's eyes narrow, and he spits, "Yessss! He does, an army of dragon creatures."

Vaddock shrugs. "We'll take them on when they arrive."

The man, now angry to the point that he sounds like a boiling tea kettle, jumps back from the bar and reveals his true form--a dragon humanoid, clad in the garb of a cultist.

"Foolish mortal, behold your death!"

He starts to conjure, perhaps intending to get some spell off. However, he missed that the bouncer had already come up behind him, and with two quick stabs, plunged his swords through its back and out its chest. 

"I'll have him removed."

Hand goes to do just that. Meanwhile, Vaddock says,

"Well, better go outside and see what the fuss is about."

He leaves, only to return shortly after. Calling out to the rest of his crew and those who are listening, he says, 

"Guys, there is a literal dragon army heading right for us! Grab your weapons, we have a showdown with some kobolds and their uglier, older brothers!"

This reconciles this thread with Event 3. 

Season closed. 

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