[color=E0D6C0] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wFqApY1.png[/img][/center][color=E0D6C0][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fXzi00H.gif[/img][h1][b][color=30A4D9]Bastion[/color][/b][/h1][/center][center][/center] [center] [color=30A4D9][b]Race:[/b][/color] Warforged [color=30A4D9][b]Class:[/b][/color] Warrior [color=30A4D9][b]Location:[/b][/color] Airship; What's left of the bar side women's bathroom. [color=30A4D9][b]Interactions/Mentions:[/b][/color] Phia [@princess], Menzai [@samreaper], Arya [@potter], Minerva/Wendel [@funnyguy], Gears, The Necromancer [color=30A4D9][b]Equipment:[/b][/color] [hider=equipment][color=F9D972]☼[/color] Tower Shield [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Greatsword made of Glacium (A material as hard as steel, yet formed from eternally frozen ice.) [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Titan Chain – A reinforced tow chain housed in his left palm, functioning as a powerful grappling hook. [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Aged Leather Satchel [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Worn but cherished scarf [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Maintenance Kit . [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Heavy-duty rations (for companions, not himself). [color=F9D972]☼[/color] A delicate glass figurine of a bird—an old keepsake. [color=F9D972]☼[/color] A locked, timeworn journal—contents unknown. [/hider] [color=30A4D9][b]Attire:[/b][/color] [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Etched and weathered plating with bronze accents. [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Fitted harness for carrying supplies. [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Worn scarf [color=30A4D9][b]Gold Balance:[/b][/color] 49 gold [color=30A4D9][b]Injuries:[/b][/color] [color=F9D972]☼[/color] Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid. [/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/wFqApY1.png[/img][/center][/color] [hr] Phia’s cries rang out across the broken deck, louder than the chaos or the mournful moan of a damaged ship with strained elemental rings. [color=F97FCA]“Menzai!”[/color] she screamed, her voice cutting through the noise around them harshly. [color=F97FCA]“No... Please no!”[/color] Bastion’s eyes turned immediately, following her gaze to where the warrior lay slumped against a strange woman’s back. One he did not recognize. Blood pooled beneath Menzai, and his arm hung limp at his side. [color=F97FCA]“Give it to him! Give it to Menzai!”[/color] She clawed toward him, her movements thrumming with desperation. Bastion’s grip on her shifted gently, adjusting her weight as she strained. He could sense how much pain she was in, yet she still wanted to give what little hope she had to someone else. [color=30A4D9]“Do not worry,”[/color] he said softly, stepping toward the others. [color=30A4D9]“We will not lose either of you. We will find help for you both.”[/color] Arya’s voice met his next. [color=7998CE]“Do we have a healer?”[/color] That question seemed to hang in the air. And then… a voice answered. It came from behind them, calm but cold, and with a dash of reluctant disdain. [color=plum]“You do.”[/color] The man who stepped forward wore a sleek, deep black longcoat with sharp shoulders and a dramatic, high collar that flares outward like bat wings. Beneath which is a striking plum-purple waistcoat accented by a bon white cravat. His presence is understated but somehow immense all at the same time. This is the gentleman who appeared from the quarters above on the balcony and joined the fight with quite the show of power. Gears, who had been frozen for a moment too long, jolted into motion as if yanked from some far-off place. Her eyes widened when she saw Phia in Bastion’s arms, then darted to Menzai nearby, still slumped. [color=gold]“Everyone! Clear the bar! Right now!”[/color] she barked. [color=gold]“Big guy, set her down gentle. That surface is clean enough and stable enough for what she needs.”[/color] Bastion nodded without question. He moved to the bar and lowered Phia with care, placing her on her uninjured side. His hands were impossibly gentle, adjusting her hair away from her eyes and making sure her weight did not rest on her wounds. He turned to find the strange man already striding forward. The necromancer stood tall, yet still somehow sunken. He didn’t glance down at Phia, not yet…Instead, he spoke as he looked across them all. [color=plum]“Lie the other one beside her.”[/color] His words referenced Menzai, though there was no warmth in the command, only confidence. [color=plum]“I can save them both.”[/color] His hand raised slowly, fingers curling. A faint chill touched the air. Bastion’s optics narrowed. This was not divine energy. No warm glow, no golden light. What flowed from the man’s hand was something else entirely. The shadows around him quivered as threads of darkness extended like ribbons, wrapping through the air and down toward Phia’s broken body. It was not cold, exactly… but it was wrong. Like watching a wound heal in reverse. Phia’s breathing slowed, then stabilized. The bruises on her ribs began to fade, the torn muscle and broken skin threading themselves back together with sinew shaped by shadow. The light in her crystal pulsed once, in rhythm with whatever the man had done, and then stilled. Menzai would be next. [color=plum]“Someone place him beside her. I will not ask again.”[/color] Bastion moved without hesitation, his damaged shoulder leaking faintly as he crossed the space between the bar and where Menzai slumped. He gave Minerva a quiet glance, then knelt beside the fallen wolf. [color=30A4D9]“You’ve done enough,”[/color] he said gently to the woman now supporting the man. [color=30A4D9]“Let me take him now.”[/color] He reached beneath Menzai with care, avoiding his bleeding shoulder and stabilizing his back as he lifted the shifter into his arms. The wolf’s body was heavier than Phia’s, but Bastion carried him just the same…like something precious, not a burden. His limbs were slack, but faint breaths still came. He laid Menzai down beside Phia on the bar, mirroring the same gentleness, adjusting both of them so they faced one another in hopes that it would bring them comfort. He then stepped back, allowing the dark healer to begin his work. The necromancer extended both hands now, standing tall behind the bar as his fingers traced runes in the air...runes that shimmered with an unnatural violet light. Whispers followed them, soft and distant, like the echo of chanting voices speaking from a forgotten crypt. The light from the sun dimmed slightly, not by shadow, but as if the world itself leaned away from what was happening. Phia’s wounds glowed faintly beneath her skin. So did Menzai’s. The shadows seeped into flesh like water into soil, wrapping nerves and fusing broken bones from the inside out. The bruises faded…wounds closed….and now both of them breathed easier, though their bodies still bore the exhaustion, the damage had been reversed, at least enough to ensure they would be okay. The necromancer lowered his hands. His expression had not changed once. [color=plum]“They will live,”[/color] he said simply. He turned then, walking away from the bar like a man who had simply completed a transaction. Bastion stepped forward again, looking down at Phia and Menzai with his optics dimmed. [color=30A4D9]“They will need rest. All of us will. But first... thank you.”[/color] His voice reached Arya, Minerva, Gears, and even the necromancer’s retreating back. [color=30A4D9]“For fighting back, and for helping those in need.”[/color] He looked down at Phia once more, and this time he allowed himself the smallest smile. [color=30A4D9]“You’re okay now.”[/color][/color]