Searching for signs of life in the Orc camps became rare among the species. On the far side of a colonnade of rock was a figure. He or she living? The knight moved among a pile of clay, sulphuric odor and prone reaching for a bowl of white, pasty substance. The soldier stepped closer. The face before him ashen. Saw a lad not much older than himself barely alive. He stepped under the hanging figure as another unlocked the chains. A set of the key was discarded on the floor. "The occupants fled!" The knight held the gaunt and bloody figure to his chest as he leaned against a post. The soldier opened a skein of warm water. He poured the clear liquid to the figure looking at him with haunted eyes.  Water trickled over the parched, cracked, bloodied lips, "Friend. Drink. Understand?" He held the man not much older than himself in his arm, "Easy there hey not so fast. Little sips. My sister and her pal mages will have you fixed up." The chains were removed and he was placed on the knight's steed and in a gallop, he was taken to the mages behind lines.<br/><br/>The man that the knight found was placed on a cot. A grimace graced the young teen's ruby lips. Kate sat beside him on a stool.  She did not make a move to touch him. The teen wore a full apron over her plain blue skirt and white blouse. Her gaze held his sunken brown eyes and battered body. She administered essence of poppy and red potion in a goblet to his lips. The mage teen spoke confidently, "I know your leary but this will heal you without pain. I need to clean your wounds."