Before either women could reply, Talbot looked up when a third woman stepped in. What was it with women and coming into his room? This one, however, was just as pretty as the other two, but this one he knew rather… well. Vellia. She was a good woman, with her red hair and light eyes. She was the one who had actually spoken to him and hummed along when he was singing. He looked up at her as she threatened the two others, demanding the instrument back from one and threatening the other. The sorcerer wanted to jump up and join in the threats, but he really did feel sick. He felt like he was going to pass out soon, and the pain continued to run up and down and across his rib cage. Even though they were not broken, he could still feel the pain of where they had snapped in half.

Vellia sat down next to him and told him that he wasn’t allowed to play hero anymore. Playing hero? Who said he was planning hero? He didn’t want anyone to get hurt, even if defending them cost him his life. Talbot narrowed his eyes and listened to what she said. Was that… concern in her voice? His eyes darted back to her, and he frowned even deeper. He was grumpy, but now he was calmed by her words. At least someone did care and wasn’t some sort of siren that was hovering over his bed. Between those two women, he felt like taking an arrow to the head. 

[b]”I wasn’t playing hero.”[/b] he croaked. [b]”I was doing what I had to do for the Shepherds. I knew that the army was coming and that we would be killed on the spot if we all stood up to fight. So I thought and thought and decided to give myself up.”[/b] he heaved a sigh, but coughed when the pain made his breath get stuck in his throat. The bard’s body was being racked by the bout of coughing, and he struggled to sit up, damning himself for his uselessness.