[center][color=#ff8c00][h2]Cadmon Demet[/h2][/color][/center]
[hr][@Octo]
[hr]

He'd barely received an answer before Lirrah was hoisted to her feet and passed back to him; he [i]did[/i] have to question the wisdom of that decision, as he wasn't likely to be any more helpful to the merchant in her present state than Gisela would have been. Not that he had much choice, either, as he couldn't just leave her there on the floor to go and see for himself what was happening. Two strikes, that; not only had she pushed the Nem over to him, Gisela had completely ignored his first question.

[color=#ff8c00][i]"Mages,"[/i][/color] he muttered under his breath, leaning his halberd against the wall and pulling off his gauntlets. With his hands free, he could easily reach into one of the pouches hanging from his belt, pulling out a rag. Usually it would have ended up used for one of two purposes—cleaning his weapon, or to tourniquet a bad wound. [color=#ff8c00]"Here. It's not much of a handkerchief, but it's clean."[/color] He held it down to the pink-haired merchant, looking back up in the direction Gisela had left in. At least her more relaxed demeanour, and the prompt disappearance of her demon, had made it clear that the fighting was over, rather than simply experiencing a small lull as the sounds of combat ceased.

[color=#ff8c00]"Can you walk, or do you need carried?"[/color]