Exton

The Infirmary tent is filled to capacity. A second tent is set off to the side. Worst cases, acording to a healer, are there. Keon holds the flap aside, and as Ob steps in a Brownie moves in front of him. She tries to force the pair out, but a Healer whispers to her. The woman stares first at Ob, then at Keon, and bows out of the way.

"Apologies, Lord Blackthorn, I did not know you bring a Healer from the other side of the Veil."

Keon looks at her and nods slightly. She moves backwards, scuttling out of the way. Ob drifts into the tent. His eyes are vacant as he sings softly. Allah's Light glows softly in his hand. He pauses by one bed. On the bed is one of the Wyldfae. Ob touches the tip of his sword to the worst of the man's wounds. It begins to knit closed. He touches other wounds, then drifts to another bed as the first man's wounds softly glow. He bypasses three beds in the whole tent, then moves past the medical staff who have gathered to watch.

The main tent holds fighters less seriously wounded. Ob drifts through the tent, touching someone here and there. One man draws away, but Keon whispers in his ear. The man stills, gripping the edge of his bed until Ob moves away. He pants, then touches the fresh skin over his abdomen, staring after Ob with wide eyes. Another warrior kneels beside a bed, watching as Ob approaches. When he turns away from the female fighter, he shouts at Ob to help her. Voice distant, Ob sings softly that the infection is not something he can help. The shallow wounds will heal, but the infection is what holds her just this side of death. He drifts away as the man breaks into sobs. A fae rushes out of the tent, seeking the Chief Healer.

Keon helps Ob from the tent. His body sags, blade now nothing more than steel. Keon wipes the blade carefully and sheathes it as Ob rests, head in hands. Once the blade is put away. Keon waits for Ob to breathe easier.

"My friend... Your blade is steel, yet it healed..."

Ob raises his head slowly. "It healed mortal wounds, not infection. It can knit flesh and bone, but it was meant to heal shapeshifters. We heal infections on our own. Our bodies burn them out. As for the steel but making the wounds worse? I leave that up to the Gods. Maybe Lord Herne understands it. I don't. Allah gives what He gives. I am but the Minstrel who does His will." He sighs deeply. "Let's go home Keon. Let's go see our girls."