(no subject)

[and-far-away.livejournal.com]

The door swings open, and two figures stumble through, one almost carrying the other into the bar.

Sharpe's clothes and sword are covered in blood, and Behrooz is barely conscious, leaning on him. The younger man is bleeding heavily, from a rather nasty bullet wound to the gut.

They could probably use some help.

[ooc: healer OOCly pre-arranged, but otherwise entirely un-plotlocked. Have at!]

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_mother_dearest/]

A firm nod to him as she wandered off to post a notice on the board. His family and friends, if he had any, would want to know. Her voice was slightly indulgent.

"As you like, Lord Sharpe."