Just smile and be happy.
Zavien often strolls through the lower districts of Stormbreak at night, letting old memories wash over him and remind him of who he was raised to be. It is especially effective in lifting his dark moods when life seems to lay heavy on his shoulders, stealing sleep from his eyes. Occasionally, he takes the time to share warm smiles with those struggling, attempting to lift their spirits in the little ways he can. And on the rare occurrence, his strength comes in handy to defend unfortunate innocents of the streets.
As the night starts to recede into the early morning, Zavien's heart brightens, negative thoughts falling from his mind. Although the fog still clings to the buildings of Silk Houses, the dying clamor of revelers rings in the new day. Only the final dregs of people remain as the rest slink into their homes to share beds or seize what little sleep they can before the working begins.
His steps lead him past a few drunk stragglers, chuckling amongst themselves. One pats the other on the back and makes a comment about "enough to keep him down for a while". They laugh again. Zavien notes the bloody knuckles on the pair, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Not wanting to make assumptions or cause a scene, he lets them pass without a comment. He instead looks in the direction they had come from.
A short distance later, Zavien sees a flash of white flapping out of a darkened alleyway. He squints his eyes to be sure of the summons before picking up his pace. His jog brings him quickly upon the young man hovering over the semi-conscious form of another. Having already seen the suspected culprits and observing the distressed look in the Samaritan's eyes, Zavien focuses his attention on the patient.
He makes eye contact with the hooded gaze of the man. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek, he speaks in a low reassuring voice. "Hey. Stay with me. We're gonna get you out of here." His instincts kick in and he catalogues the immediate injuries. Other than a mangled face and a few scattered scrapes, he doesn't see any major hemorrhaging. The only other deformity is a twisted right ankle that he obviously won't be walking on any time soon. Zavien assumes that his primary problem is a concussion, explaining the far-off-look.
Now addressing the Samaritan, he indicates to the man's left arm. "You grab that side. We need to get him to a healer before the filth of this street infects his wounds. Hopefully some ointment, a splint, and a good night's rest will be enough to heal him." Grabbing the right arm, he shoots the young man a bright smile. "I'm Zavien, by the way. You did a good job waving me down. Who knows what would have happened to him otherwise."
As the night starts to recede into the early morning, Zavien's heart brightens, negative thoughts falling from his mind. Although the fog still clings to the buildings of Silk Houses, the dying clamor of revelers rings in the new day. Only the final dregs of people remain as the rest slink into their homes to share beds or seize what little sleep they can before the working begins.
His steps lead him past a few drunk stragglers, chuckling amongst themselves. One pats the other on the back and makes a comment about "enough to keep him down for a while". They laugh again. Zavien notes the bloody knuckles on the pair, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Not wanting to make assumptions or cause a scene, he lets them pass without a comment. He instead looks in the direction they had come from.
A short distance later, Zavien sees a flash of white flapping out of a darkened alleyway. He squints his eyes to be sure of the summons before picking up his pace. His jog brings him quickly upon the young man hovering over the semi-conscious form of another. Having already seen the suspected culprits and observing the distressed look in the Samaritan's eyes, Zavien focuses his attention on the patient.
He makes eye contact with the hooded gaze of the man. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek, he speaks in a low reassuring voice. "Hey. Stay with me. We're gonna get you out of here." His instincts kick in and he catalogues the immediate injuries. Other than a mangled face and a few scattered scrapes, he doesn't see any major hemorrhaging. The only other deformity is a twisted right ankle that he obviously won't be walking on any time soon. Zavien assumes that his primary problem is a concussion, explaining the far-off-look.
Now addressing the Samaritan, he indicates to the man's left arm. "You grab that side. We need to get him to a healer before the filth of this street infects his wounds. Hopefully some ointment, a splint, and a good night's rest will be enough to heal him." Grabbing the right arm, he shoots the young man a bright smile. "I'm Zavien, by the way. You did a good job waving me down. Who knows what would have happened to him otherwise."
Zavien
