Count Greyskull
The lord sighed. Normally, he would have bumbled and stuttered in outrage, but now was not the time for such jests. It wasn’t only a bad time, but it was also a joke of really poor taste, one that quite offended Greyskull.
After all, such an accusation was one that even he would not have taken kindly to, but he understood the need for her to make such biting remarks. For as lowbrow and non-humerus as it was, laughter still was the best medicine. Therefore, it was for the best that he let it slide.
However, Alarice was about to move to remove her clothes, to which he responded by suddenly stopping her. It was best if she didn’t use her arms and stood as still as possible. If she touched anything, the splinters might just dig in further. For now, he needed her to relax and rest.
« Don’t move. I’ll take care of it. »
With two skeletal gloved hands he lifted her up softly and removed her robe with extreme carefulness, delicate fingers taking good care to move and hurt her as little as humanely possible.
For a sorcerer as powerful as him, it was normally obvious that he had grown reliant on the magic he had spent so long perfecting. Because of that, to operate without magecraft was nothing short of folly, an impossible task where one would have had as little expertise as any commoner.
Nay, it was because he could not perform healing magic that he had studied medicine in his free time (which the luxury of undeath gave more than ample supply of).
The skeleton barely glanced at her naked body, handing the coat to his assistant so he could fold it properly. It wasn’t that he was absent, but a simple glance like that was enough for him to work the rest. Fractured ribs, bruises and splinters. This would take a while, but fortunately it was nothing life threatening.
“Nyo ho ho! It’s not so bad. With a bit of treatment, we should patch this up in no time! » He commented cheerfully, trying to alleviate the mood despite everything. While a skeleton rubbed her wounds with a clean wet towel to disinfect her, he walked up to the counter and glanced at the numerous plants and herbs.
He quickly picked a few and laid them into a pot, mixing stirring and grounding them until they were nothing short but a creamy paste.
Adding a bit of tap water, he used a fire spell swiftly to heat the water and have it boil before mixing it all into a homogenous and suspiciously purple brew. They say that taste is better than the smell, but one had to wonder if such a thing applied to a potion so foul that it smelled more like a corpse than the actual corpse.
His procedures were nothing short of the pinnacle of years upon years of medical research and practiced craft. If one did not know any better, one could mistake him for a great doctor. For a mere corpse to be as arrogant as to perform the craft of healing, such a farce would make even God roll on his grave.
Without a sweat, he brought the potion to her lips.
“Take this, it should alleviate the pain.” He said calmly. Damn, this was a bit too calm. He didn’t want this to be too depressing or she wouldn’t recover fast enough. He needed something to alleviate the atmosphere, a joke. Think Greyskull, think….
The skeleton coughed nervously and finally came up with something. Yes, a fine jest. Surely one as refined as this one would tickle her funny bone.
“Ahem, did you know that the human body has enough bones to make an entire human skeleton?”
The other, less busy skeleton took advantage of this moment of comedic jenius to pull out two femurs and mang them on his skull, as if to do a little tat-tat-tat, or a ba dum tss without the tss, which means it went more like badum dum.
Sigh.
