The young girl quickly led the group to the farm that her family owned. The building and field had seen better days, But they were still intact. Within the two story hearth, there was a man on a bed, clearly in pain and injured. he was an older man, perhaps in his late thirties or so abouts with short peppered grayblack hair and a short beard. He was clearly unconscious and fidgeting in pain, his arm in a makeshift sling and his other wounds hastily, messily bandaged. He was not at risk of dying immediately, but infection could still set in, and the man would be in for an arduous trail ahead of him should he be unable to get proper care. "Dad use to be part of the guard, he talked me through how to get him better... But I don't know if I did a good job. Can you help him?" She asked, a little nervously to the assembled group.