"AAAHHOOOWW!!!!!!" Zakiyah said, wincing. It was still tender, as the process of regeneration generally left her sore for days afterward. She blinked back tears and slapped at his hand again, having been unprepared for that. "Stop that! Now are we finished? I don't care if you believe me or not, but I must rest, and I cannot rest if you continue poking and prodding me for hours until your curiousity is satisfied!" She reached for her sari and tried to fling it around herself again. "We're almost done!" said Doc reaching for a wineskin and offering it to Zakiyah, "Take a swig of this and rest easy! My medicinal version of Cannard will help numb the pain for at least a day! By that time, you should be completely healed."
One of the attendants spoke up saying, "Uh Doc, Sarge and the Captain are here."
"Good, maybe they can shed some light on what War Scribe's little pet here!" replied Doc with complete cynicism in his voice. "Keep an eye on the woman, I'll be right back!"
Leaving the tent, Doc almost immediately ran into the two Drow Officers waiting outside.
"Well, Doc, how's the patient?" asked Sterling eagerly.
"She looks like Death warmed over!" said the Drow Chiurgeon flatly, "She'll live, but she ain't Human!"
The Sarge and Sterling gave Doc an incredulous look, but the Dark Elven Chiurgeon cut them off before they could say anything. "And she ain't no Half-elf either or no Half-anything for that matter!"
Shaking his head a little, Doc confessed, "Hell, I'm not even sure if she's alive! I mean, granted she's breathing and all, but I can't find a pulse on her anywhere! Add to that the fact that she's missing a set of lower ribs, some organs aren't where they should be, and she's got a slower heartbeat than a Marakian sloth--and what you have on your hands, gentlesirs, is a minor medical miracle. I can't make head nor tails of her anatomy! Heck, she just don't add up!"
"Can she talk? Is she well enough to speak?" inquired the Swordsman.
"Oh, she can talk alright!" admitted the Chiurgeon with some chagrin, "The woman's got quite a set of pipes on her, I'll give her that! But she's kind of weak and she needs some rest! If you want to speak with her, I'll give you five minutes--no more! Besides, I doubt she'll be very coherent beyond that point once my home-brew of Cannard kicks in! So go ahead sir, say your peace, but make it short!"
Sterling nodded and entered the tent. However, much to his surprise, the Swordsman discovered a rather familiar Lorekeeper resting on a cot before him.
"ZAKIYAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?!" cried Sterling in pure disbelief.
A Point To Ponder
