[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=b8860b]Reginald Keystone[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/bee7cdf3-093c-430b-91b1-6433cbfb2ac7.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkgoldenrod][b]Location:[/b][/color] Benha (Train to Athribis)
[color=b8860b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Observation [/center][hr][hr]

	The lure of the desert pulled at the Lord Major, keeping his eyes moving back to the spans of gold-white sand that were constantly being built up and blown away, redeposited in new, sweeping waves of powdery, granulated earth. He had hoped to get a feel for the area, though they seemed to have traveled far enough away from the Nile that the lush, verdant growth had vanished. It left only the Sahara, and the train tracks cutting through her massive expanse. On the one hand, it made the task of seeing if anyone was following them or moving alongside the train rather easy. On the other hand, it was rather boring. Transfixing though, like staring into a fire or watching the ripples of a stream pass by. 

	The relaxed haze of Reginald's mind straightened back up as he did see something of human construction around the bend and growing in their horizon. [color=b8860b]"Aha! Athribis looms just ahead now, ladies and gentlemen! What a smashing eventuality, I must say, though I do regret that Lady Munn cannot be with us."[/color] He sighed, shaking his head but having to shake it off; they were there, she was not, and like so many others that could not have joined them, the Fellowship would just have to sally forth without. 

	Turning back to his group of adventurers and scholars, Reginald noted with a pleasant smile that the cat was still perfectly content to make itself comfortable in J.C.'s lap. Those cats tend to do as they pleased, in his experience. They were also of great help to the lads on the ground, back in the Great War, though the Lord Major spent most of his time in combat (in that particular war, anyway) behind the stick of various aircraft, high above the attentions of cats and their active role in trench warfare. He would have to assume that his batman, Reddish, would likely have more grateful memories about the feline companions. [color=b8860b]"Constitution, you say? Ah yes! Self-determination and whatnot. Hmm, quite. Realize, as a proper man of standing within the Empire, I cannot give the appearance of support to the ruling ideology of the rebellious Colonial elements. Unofficially, I might say 'Bully for you, good sir!' and have it at that."[/color] He lay a finger beside his nose and gave the man a knowing look. [color=b8860b]"We must all have a code with which to live, you see."[/color] 




[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=bdb76b]Haring Reddish[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/bc984338-f6d5-4803-b256-c66503999ea8.jpg[/img][/center]
[hr][center][color=darkkhaki][b]Location:[/b][/color] Benha (Bazaar -> Docks)
[color=bdb76b][b]Skills:[/b][/color] Arabic, Observation [/center][hr][hr]

	The immediate search for anything resembling a medical facility, or even a local healer or any type, was quickly proven to be a fruitless endeavor. Reddish searched both high and low, dipping into his linguistic skills with single minded purpose, only to have any avenue of possibility closed off to the two of them. It was getting a touch to the frantic, to be quite honest, not that the Corporal was going to let much of anything show outside of the urgency necessary to the situation at hand. And really, that was more than enough. In an attempt to have Josephine focus on something other than her injury directly, he gave a brief answer to her question. [color=bdb76b]"Well no gentleman, that's for bloody sure, Miss Clarke. I tell you, the religion of the region isn't too kind to women, though I'm half sure that it's some kind of dodge, if you ask me. I hadn't figured that it'd be that bad this close to the Nile and Cairo, mind you. British influence isn't quite what it was. No ma'am! Horrid and contemptible barbarian, that man."[/color]

	As it turned out, they were headed in the direction of the docks anyway, so it came as little surprise when Reddish saw their boat a little ways off. Though the search for a land-bound doctor was fruitless, there just [i]had[/i] to be someone on board that might be able to help her, right? And if not, he knew for a fact that there were medical supplies on board. He had them loaded himself. Even gathered a lot of what they had on board personally from the supplies available at the Qasr El Nil Barracks, though that would mean that they would have to gain access to the boat, [i]then[/i] the Cargo hold. He would much rather have a professional onboard take care of her. And a little selfishly, with their materials on hand. It would be much faster. If only they could just get on the boat. 

	[color=bdb76b]"Hoy there! Hoy, wot?"[/color] he called to whomever was left to deny people entry. [color=bdb76b]"We're passengers, we are! Miss Clarke's been attacked in the marketplace and needs a doctor!"[/color] Perhaps they had some special, nautical way of asking to be let on board - it was a pity that he was and Army man and never joined the Navy, for that reason. In any case, Reddish stood ready to repeat his request in the more local Arabic or spiffy sounding and widely regionally used French, as needed to get the message across.