[@VitaVitaAR][@ghastlyInc] [center][img]http://orig15.deviantart.net/2fa9/f/2016/187/8/b/thedoc_by_zelosse-da8xqso.png[/img][/center] [center][h1]"[color=00a651]Teller[/color]"[/h1] Anton Duboi[/center] Anton had loaded up the cart of wounded and ventured with them every step of the way home. Any time the cart stopped for whatever reason, he had made his rounds to ensure that everyone was taken care of and all wounds had been treated to the best of his supply and ability. A difficult task, considering he usually only took enough for a days worth of emergency medical supplies. Thank the Goddesses that others had also prepared for the inevitable injuries that came from violence. The rest of the trip had been almost trivial as the doctor meticulously wrote up reports for each victim, right down to a single scrape or bruise, and gave the recipient their ticket. When they saw a healer they would be tended to with magical cures to accelerate the healing process. It was Tellers job to make sure the priestesses and healers didn't heal an infected wound or try to mend a bone that had not been properly reset. The return home was not as fulfilling as he had hoped. The doctor enjoyed his time in the field. ------------------------ Returning to the Iron Rose compound brought with it a new set of challenges. Trainees got injured on the regular and often from doing something foolish. Todays adventure was into the chest cavity of a trainee who had, hilariously enough, swallowed a sharp metal object. The surgery wasn't easy but it was necessary. The priests weren't up to the task of opening a man up. Heavily sedated, Teller had painstakingly managed to cut open the mans stomach and extract the, what appeared to be, polished medal of valor. According to reports, it had fallen into his cup and he had swallowed it. Damn thing nearly cut his throat to shreds. It if hadn't been for the healers magic the poor guy might have choked to death on his own blood. A tad grim, if you asked Teller. Anton wiped off his forehead, though he was still wearing his beaked mask and was instead just wiping a cloth across the polished wood and leather instead of the actual sweat. Arms coated in blood, the front of his operating apron similarly lathered in crimson, Teller put in the last stitch and moved away to let the healers mend the flesh back. [color=00a651] "In a few hours he's gonna wake up from the sedative. Gonna vomit a few times, probably need a lot to drink, but thanks to everyone here we have saved his life. Ask him to drink from a childs sippy cup." [/color] Teller smiled as he left the room they had taken for use as an operating room, shrugging off the bloody apron in favor of just his simple white wool shirt. It showed a few stains but was otherwise quite clean. A bath would be nice right about now. Thankfully his duties to the Iron Roses comprised entirely of helping with the medical aspects of such a large organization. Now that he was done the life threatening surgery and all his other patients were taken care of, it was time to relax from his time on the road and the fighting. ------------ Clad only in a towel covering his lower body, Anton strolled through the bathing area with nothing but the soft slapping of his sandals slapping on the floors. Turning a corner he was confronted by a sight he didn't think he would ever see. Captain Fanilly turning a bright red, and to his surprise, one sir Gillian standing in his birthday suit. Evidently unaware of the scene he was causing. Still wearing his beaked mask, loathing to take it off almost entirely, he strolled right up to the captain and glanced at Gillian. [color=00a651]"You might want to get that looked at mate. Before it starts to swell." [/color] Turning his attention back to the captain he placed the back of his hand on her forehead briefly before touching his own to compare. [color=00a651]"I think you're running a high temperature captain. You should really take a bath." [/color]