Grath's Story - Week 6

"Morten, I have question," Grath said. "Is about the shoulder."

Mortan looked up from his books, and the macabre scythe lying in front of him. "Yes, my dim-witted friend?"

"Well" Grath said, moving the arm, "is still a little stiff, though is getting better."

The gnome raised his eyebrows. "And? I'm a surgeon, not a miracle worker. Your arm was cut almost clean off."

Grath shook his head "No, I realise. You working miracles would make things around here a lot easier."

Morten snorted. "I can cut the arm back off if you would prefer?" he said, standing and reaching for the scythe.

"No! No, my little friend." Grath said, picking up the blade and setting it away from the little necromancer. "Is just.. well, feel here." He grabbed the gnome's arm and lifted it, and the man it was attached to, and pressed his hand against the scar that ran around his arm. "You feel lump there?"

"What? This?" Mortan's eyes shifted uncertainly for a moment before focusing back on the half-orc's face. "That's just...uh...scar tissue, I would believe."

Grath looked down at the arm. "Huh. You sure?" He thought back to when he was training on the rooftop, earlier that day. "Only... It felt like it was moving around a little, when I was practicing..."

"I would think so, andwouldyoumindsettingmedown?" Grath looked down, realized he was holding a dangling gnome by one arm, and dropped him. Morten rubbed his own arm. "What with the massive amount of damage. I managed to reconnect the tendons and the..." The gnome rattled off a string of words, or at least what Grath thought were probably words. "...but the flesh still can only heal so well, even with my magical help."

Grath raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Well, if you say so."