Sigurd looked like hell. Dark circles rested under his eyes and two bruises marred his face. Yet, the affable grin about his lips did much to conceal his haggard appearance. Â His cold eyes surveyed the black-haired, bearded man - noting his baggy attire. Sigurd answered the man's question in a low, refined tone:
"...A doctor? In this village? Â No, I haven't the pleasure. And they are usually -quite- expensive. Why, the closet doctor I know is back in Wineport, which is many, many yalms from here - and sadly, she is a bit exhausted from a prior "examination" she performed on me yesterday."Â
Sig pulled the pipe from his lips, fumes trailing from the corners of his mouth, speaking again: "...What do you need a doctor for anyhow, good man? Â You appear to be in fine health. Â Perhaps you would care for a natural, herbal remedy for anything that ails you?"
Sigurd extended the pipe to the man, offering him a toke - if he desired.
"...A doctor? In this village? Â No, I haven't the pleasure. And they are usually -quite- expensive. Why, the closet doctor I know is back in Wineport, which is many, many yalms from here - and sadly, she is a bit exhausted from a prior "examination" she performed on me yesterday."Â
Sig pulled the pipe from his lips, fumes trailing from the corners of his mouth, speaking again: "...What do you need a doctor for anyhow, good man? Â You appear to be in fine health. Â Perhaps you would care for a natural, herbal remedy for anything that ails you?"
Sigurd extended the pipe to the man, offering him a toke - if he desired.
