[i]Well,[/i] Nuva thought to himself, [i]that was about as successful as I imagined it being, albeit in a different fashion to what I expected.[/i] He had thought his hip was sufficiently armoured, too, given that his entire body was coated in chainmail, leather, and two layers of cloth (for what it was worth); clearly, that wasn't the case after all. Perhaps time for an upgrade to the armour, then, if he acquired the funds for it, but certainly a repair job on the damaged sections at the very least. He certainly didn't want to be expulsed by the other mercenaries for uncontrollable starting conditions.

For now, though, his leader was asking for his condition, having issued instructions on how to proceed. 'Injured,' Nuva responded, 'but it is only a flesh wound to the hip. I'll be fine. Thank you for inquiring, sir.' In his time under the dark elves, they had not once asked whether or not he was injured, and he'd quickly learned that they certainly wouldn't clean his wounds for him. The damage was on the side of his intact hand. He could deal with cleansing and bandaging it when the party returned from this expedition. For now, there was only the need to progress. He moved toward the next door- with a very slight limp, he noticed, from the injury- and, looking back to see if the others would follow, began edging it open to glance out at whatever lay beyond the threshold.

[@POOHEAD189][@Austronaut]