Liraeth listened as the Knight began to speak, saying that he had no task with which he required help with, and that any injuries he had would not prevent him from executing any orders. But the way that he spoke seemed to pained, so laboured. He was leaning on that sword as if it were a walking stick. The small sense of unease that had lodged itself in Liraeth's mind, when he had first wondered how long exactly had this Knight had been sat here amongst all this ash and death, grew with each and every pained word that slowly trailed off to nothing.

The sword clattered to the ground as the Knight's hand slid out of his gauntlet, breaking the silence that had fallen over the destroyed courtyard. The Knight pawed at his helm and unbuckled his visor, revealing his face.

Beneath the steel mask, the knight's hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat that had dripped down over his grime coated face, leaving trails in the ash and dirt that stained it. His eyes were closed beneath thick brows, his mouth pulled into a frown. There was burn on his cheek just above where the stubble of his beard began, but other than that Liraeth saw no obvious injuries. That was good. 

It was a good face too, Liraeth decided, he believed that this man meant him no harm, despite whatever strange and terrible may have happened to him here. As the Knight began to speak again, he watched the colour drain from his face, and saw that he no longer had his sword in hand with which to support him. 

"Whoa Hey!" The slight pale mage sprung forward to the bottom of the ruined steps, closing the final distance between them. He grabbed the Knight by the by the arm, in a perhaps somewhat futile attempt to steady and support the much taller and larger man. If the Knight were to topple over, there was as much of a chance that he would take Liraeth with him, still he tried. "Don't worry, I've got you."

Once he was sure the big Knight wasn't going to tumble down the remaining few stairs onto the cobblestones below, he didn't let go. Instead, he tried to gently lower his armoured form back onto the step that he had been sat upon when Liraeth had first entered the courtyard. 

"Come on, sit down, save your strength."

He knelt on the step next to the Knight and transferred his staff, still faintly glowing, to the crook of his arm. With his hands now free he began to rummage around in the satchel he wore at his side under his brightly coloured coat, it contained his travelling provisions, along with a few other useful tools of his trade. After a moment's brief search, he pulled out what he had been looking for, an almost full waterskin.

"Here," He pressed the waterskin into the ungauntleted hand of the Knight. "Drink this."