Res

Life can take you to unexpected places sometimes.

Like a beautiful, secluded spot in the forest.

Or a cave with bioluminescent plants.

...Or a hole in the side of a desert mesa that fancied itself a tavern and casino.

When she'd asked the guards for the nearest place to rest, this admittedly wasn't what she was expecting, but most of the Tempest Order's camp was tents anyway, so she wasn't sure what she should've been expecting. A path tunneled off to the left, presumably where rooms had been crudely carved out of the stone for guests. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it was something to get away from the oppressive heat and intermittent storms. The humidity bothered her very little, but the heat itself was unbearable. It made her long for the waters of her birth clan, or the darkness of the foxfire bramble that had been her home for so many years.

A Mirror in a frilled, dirty brown dress looked up from across the room. It was clear she made some effort to maintain a sense of classiness, even if her dress looked a bit haphazard and stitched together. She called out, "Welcome, welcome! Come inside, out of the heat. Lutes will be around to take your or-"

The barkeep didn't finish, a loud argument from the casino turning into a fight. A bogsneak and one of the clan's Mirrors came crashing through the room for a few hectic moments before the Mirror clamped down on the Bogsneak's leg and dragged him forcefully outside. The Mirror guard returned, worse for wear, but still on his feet. A gash bled from his side.

"Putt!" Another Mirror ran over to him, looking him over. "Are you okay?"

He only huffed, wincing but keeping a strong face. "Fine, Lutes. Nothing that'll keep me down."

"You might want to put a bandage on that gash," Res piped up softly, worry in her eyes. "It could get infected out here."

Putt gave her a look, but Lutes had already pressed a dirty rag to the wound. "That'll do, I think. Does anyone have anything to tie it in place?"

"Sissy, got any rope?" Another patron asked, turning to one of the tavern's owners.

Res blinked. "Maybe it would be better if I just healed it?"

Sissy laughed. "If you could do that, comrade, I'd let you stay for free. Sorry to say, but it's not so easy to just heal a wound like that."

Res looked to the wounded Mirror, examining the size and shape of the gash. It wasn't nice to look at, but she'd treated far worse in her time. She sat down and got to work. A lilting tune filled the echoing chambers of the tunnels, turning many curious eyes on her. With a few minutes, she gently had Lute remove the dirty rag to show that indeed, the skin had healed.

There was a momentary silence, the kind of silence of a mercenary group that had never seen healing magic at work.

Then,
"So... not to impose if you've got places to be, but any chance you'd be up for living with a bunch of Mirrors?"