[center][color=green][h2] Pox [/h2][/color]
[h3]Southern Jewel, Palace Halls[/h3][/center]

[@Zhaliora][@Delta44]

And with that he was finally let go to to adjust his packs and smooth out his leathery coat before he waited nearby for the Princess to read him his orders.  Behind his green tinted lenses he was smiling broadly and he showed it outworldly with a bit of a bounce to his step.  He couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride in being recognized for his skills and being invited, again to such an important task.  [color=green]"Aww that was nice of him."[/color] He said under his breath before the Princess addressed him.

He felt another welling of pride as the Princess addressed him.  He immediately stood at attention as if in the military to show that he was giving her his pure and undivided attention.  He was to say that her majesty was too kind but his spirit seemed awkwardly stopped when she asked that he show of his credentials.  The bird mask was steady and then tilted to the left just a little bit as if questioningly.  He wanted to ask her [i]Right here?  Right now?[/i]  but that would be imprudent to the situation.  He then bowed low, his gloved hands dipping to his chest as he bowed.  [color=green]"Of course your Grace.  I might humbly ask for a moment to prepare."[/color] He raised his beak back up and looked to all the onlookers, as if gauging what he would need.

Pox then turned and raised his hands in a shooing motion.  [color=green]"Gentleman please, for your safety some space please."[/color] It seemed to work as they stepped back a few feet.  Pox took off his massive backpack, setting it upright before he unlatched a pouch.  He then took a table sheet of sorts, white and set it on the floor befor him.  Upon it, in a flourish and oddly mechanical practiced motions, he laid a worn journal, a satchel, unrolled to reveal a number of vials, each of different colors, some of them capped with a syringe of polished brass, a bag opened to reveal medical instrumentation, some quite benign, others looking more like tortuous implements.  And a single candle in a dish.  A match lit it and the flame burned a bright pink before the smell of rosmary filled the air around him. 

Pox then took a step back from this, cupping his hands together.  He muttered something, a prayer maybe, with [color=green]"-just like we rehearsed..."[/color] was audible before he threw his hands out as if presenting a show.

[Color=green]"Good afternoon Your Majesty, Lords, and Ladies!  Thank you for taking the time to put your life into the hands of those who know to care for it best!  My name is Pox, The Many Hands of the Maker, The Scourer of the Targeist Blight, Saint of the Red Rivers Massacre, and Field Chirurgeon of the Apothecaries humbly bow before you![/color]  He does so again before standing back up and folding his hands together.  It was definitely something he had done before as every word and gesture seemed to be practiced and deliberate.  He was a showman at this moment, peddling his wares, which in this case was himself.

[color=green]"As my position as your Apothecary it is my duty to see to your health and care as well as to the well-being of your staff and entourage.  This will include things that are mundane.  Your meals, medicines, and comfort.  For instance, this candle that has been burning is specially treated to help clear your sinuses."[/color]

One of the guards behind him made a very audible sniff before taking a few short deep breaths.  He remarked aloud pleasantly surprised.  "Hey he's right." 

Pox tilted his head and claps his hands.  [color=green]"Joy.  Now then, should you or anyone of your party become so inflicted with any diseases, I have express knowledge of herbs and techniques from around the world to cure what ails you.  Sunburned, I have ointment for that.  Sniffles, theres a pulped tree sap with your name on it.  Flu, some bed rest and boiled snake oil and you'll be right as rain.  And even if we come across something that even I don't know about, which I must laugh aloud.  Hah Hah.[/color] He opened his hands to them, venomous green energy leaking and smoking from over his gloves.  [color=green]"I've got magic spells... and magic hands."[/color]

Clapping his hands again.  [color=green]"But perhaps you aren't so worried about that, maybe you strive for adventure or fear an assasins blade.  Have you ever heard of the Assasination of the Court Forsair?  You shouldn't have.  I was the one patched him after a vicious attack with a barbed arrow to the throat.  Of anything, wounds happen to be my speciality.  For instance, it was three year prior that we ended up in a triage situation.  So there we were, me, another medic of the church, two nurses adepts, and six score of men screaming in agony, limbs hacked and mangled, covered in the filthy mud wringed with the blood of friend and foe.  It was a place ripe with gangreen, and infection pulsating through every tear and wound."[/color] He made cruel claws as he retold the tale, his voice salavating as if telling a story of great horror, before going back to his chipper mood with a complete inflection change.  [color=green]"But you probably don't want to hear about the gory details, so lets forget that.  Saving those men from the cruelitis of conflict, saving those limbs is how I got Lord Volt's attention and why I was hired for the next foray into battle and the next and the next."[/color]  

Pox then went to one of the vials, a syringe that he held aloft in his hand.  [color=green]"If my medical skills are still in question, please allow me to show you what I am capable of.  Those of weak constitutions should probably avert their eyes."[/color]  He turned up his hand and seemed to inject a clear, but reddish tinged liquid into an imperfection in his leather robe.  An indentation and ringed with metal as if it was there for that purpose.  Pox showed no motion of the pain if there was any.  Placing it down, he then took a large curved knife into his hand and held up his free hand.  He raised his blade back about to bring it down on the upswing, actually slicing at his entire hand at the wrist.  The blade came down-

[@Claw2k11]

[color=olive]"Arion, Syrael, take this raving fool with us, our dear Grand Marshal will have to confirm if this man is truly the one he sent for... among other more important things!"[/color]  Pox had been so focused he didn't notice that he had a pretty sizable audience by now.  The sudden yelling did cause him to stop his explanation.

A pair of hands seized him at his arms and pulled him to his feet.  [color=green]"Wha?  Hey, what gives?  I was getting to the good part.  Well the gross part.  I was getting to a grossly good part!  Goodly gross?  Hmm?"[/color]  Pox then realized what was said.  Take him with them?  Oh of course, he must have been accepted.  [color=green]"Oh, I see, straight from the gentlemen's mouth.  A field test then, very wise sir.  I will not let any of you down I assure you."[/color]  He had to fight against the strong men just to gather his things.  They almost didn't let him do so so the struggle was quite awkward and clumsy as he attempted to follow the lead of his ward and company.