Daniel
"I have some healing, cooling ointment." Replied the scholar, holding up a small can and twisting off the lid to reveal the wax-colored paste contained within. "I saw the man having some bad burns, and I thought I might as well chip in. Plus, I haven't used it, and it has fermented a bit, so it will be more potent than when it was first made."

The minty, spicy scent of the ointment spoke volumes of its level in fermentation.

"It's also made with kylmer leaves, taobao root, amberberry juice and some opia extract." Added Eotum, trying to convince and reassure the lady that he wasn't trying to poison the man.

As it turned out, the old lady was somewhat knowledgeable about plants and their medicinal purposes. She knew that the kylmer leaves were what gave it its cooling touch, the taobao root helping with most of the healing, and the amberberry boosting the healing process done by the root.

"But what is opia?" She asked, curious.

"Oh, opia are little flakes that grow on the ferrumsylva's bark." Eotum said, telling her of the tree. "Simply put, it gives the patient a small dose of blissful oblivion."

Simply put: a drug.
Leon
When she felt Rekkan's hand respond to her hold, Marsila felt relief flush through her body as the deep lines between her furrowed brows began to fade. She was patient when he struggled to properly wake, keeping her gaze solely on the warrior. When he looked to her and spoke three words, the shifter couldn't help the soft laugh escape her lips as she shook her head. "You're alive so you could say that." The shifter felt the soft strokes of his thumb against the back of her hand, momentarily distracting her until he began to worry about his naked appearance. "You really did a number to yourself, you need to relax and stop moving around so much." 

When Priscilla allowed the two to have time to themselves, Marsila was left confused and slightly disappointed as Rekkan pulled his hand from her, apologising. She awkwardly brought her hands together between her lap as she slumped her shoulders, unsure what to say after his apology until she heard the knock on the door.

Marsila's attention immediately shifted as she focused on heightening her senses to get a better understanding of this stranger. As she listened to the conversation between Priscilla and this stranger who was yet to introduce himself. Turning her focus back towards Rekkan, Marsila stood from her seat and gave him a reassuring smile. "Ill be right back. There's someone at the door with healing ointment, I'm going to make sure he is who he says he is. I need you to relax and rest, Okay?" 

Without waiting for an answer, the shifter forced herself to walk away from Rekkan's side and made her way towards the two at the door, out of the Warrior's sight. Her eyes immediately narrowed towards the stranger, standing by Priscilla's side with her muscles tensed as she gripped her hand against the wooden doorframe. It was a normal reaction to become wary and defensive towards those she didn't know. With the bounty on Rekkan's head, she couldn't risk otherwise. "You're name is? And how long would this blissful oblivion last?"
David
The man wouldn't allow Marsila to say anything in that moment of silence through which both felt the strange shift in the air. Instead, he acted. He took his hand past the fringes of the bed and onto the two that now stood over her lap to feel her warmth again. Just before the knock on the door, his eyes locked with her face, his fingers grasped her wrists and palms and thumb rolled from the pinky's knuckle to index to get her momentary attention. "Thank you." His eyes were more genuine than the words that spilled from his mouth. His raspy and deep tone could be confused for something other than true gratification, but the odd red shimmer that occasionally bloomed from his pupils told the tale of respect and something more, inconclusive. Then the door knocked.

Rekkan nodded at Marsila's words, only once. He let her go while he took care of closing his eyes and letting third open while the physical pair is closed. From the readings of the area, the souls that whirl around like spirals of their own were calm and collected. He discerned that the emission of energy coming from the doorway wasn't wicked or evil in intention, but monsters have camouflaged themselves in sheep's cloth many times in the past. This could be no different. But still, in this state, he wouldn't amount to much help. Thus, in order to hasten the process of recovery, he delved into a state of meditation and mended the broken spirit, tranquilized the mind. With the ministrations given by Priscilla and his own form of heightened senses, he would rest easier and regain energy faster.
Joseph
Mikhail had been in the gardens when he noticed the carriage come up the drive. He had no reason to recognize it, but he _felt_ like he knew who was inside of it. The blonde boy turned his head to follow it's path until it moved around the horizon of the hill and towards the front of the estate. His lips pressed together, and he lowered the bow he held. 

"I suppose that means it's time to go." He mused aloud, and his thumb grazed over the curve of the wood that comprised the bow. It was small, nothing like the ones the archers used, or like the ones he'd seen knights training with. It was one he'd picked up on a trip to the markets in the Isles, browsing a weapons stand idly while Althea had overlooked him. 

The blades were appealing in the sense of pride that came with being a knight. He'd wanted that once, but the sight of daggers and swords made his stomach clench now and his neck ache. He'd abandoned the idea of knighthood the moment he'd learned of his connection with Sir Romanov. Daggers had lost their appeal when he'd felt four pierce through his chest. So he'd picked a new weapon to learn, and was struggling with it so far. He'd hoped the smaller one might keep him from injuring his shoulder further, but it wasn't doing much. 

"Probably for the best. Your posture is still wrong, you'll need more practice with your stance and positioning before you can actually learn to aim at a target." 

"It's not as if you're really helping." Mikhail retorted, and the dark haired apparition laughed. 

"You should find yourself a living tutor." Marcus pointed out, and with a roll of his eyes Mikhail shrugged his good shoulder, heading towards the estate to go greet their guest.
Daniel
"My name is Eotum Laireche." The scholar introduced. "I suppose you have heard of the boy who started the legend of the Black Swan. Well, here I am. Skin and flesh, before your very eyes."

It was quite a tiresome introduction. Most people would widen their eyes and gawk at him when he said his name. Eotum Laireche, the boy who survived an attack from a monster he insisted existed, at least in his mind. After all, who would believe that a Caladrius with life-sucking abilities existed? If it did exist, it would have been reported so long ago.

Not to mention the frenzy for the search for the monster about 20 years ago, only for it to turn out fruitless. Many have dubbed him the title of Liar and Madman. But he knew what he saw.

"Anyways, who I am is not important." Said Eotum. "And the opia extract is harmless, ma'am. It relieves the patient of pain, something similar to morphine, except that opia is much less addictive than that of morphine."

"I am a scholar, and you will find that I am a somewhat trusted member in the libraries of Astoria." He also mentioned.