After finally associating a name (sort of) to the mysterious man, Arden tends to his wounds in Deadrock. But as an outsider he does not go unnoticed.
- 📖 Arden wasn't good in bartering, or with people in general. He prefered the loneliness of space - except maybe the companionship of Pandora. So he stayed clear of everyone as much as possible, only interacting if neccessary.
The guy with the cat certainly stirred some attention. Especially after he fished some junk out of the scrapyard. For Arden it wasn't junk, he certainly could fix it. Or at least that's what he thought.
If he didn't had the attention, he certainly got it now. And it would make things harder down the line.
🎲 +2 supply; Attention of Deadrock inhabitants - 📖 Rummaging brought back the pain in Ardens' hand and arm. A stern reminder of his battles. Pandora, doing some rummaging on her own, reinforced that sentiment by changing the fur color. Arden flinched as another wave of pain passed through his arm. Pandora lifted her head, trotted a few steps in Ardens direction and slightly pressed her head against his leg.
"Yeah, yeah I know. I should go see someone." Arden scratched her chin. "But who to trust in this environment." - 📖 Arden stood back up and then proceeded to search for a suitable establishment. Close in tow, Pandora. He couldn't trust anyone, that much was clear, but the glowcat could provide insight to who might do the least harm.
🎲 Secure an Advantage (+heart / Glowcat): 6(2+1+3) vs 5/10 (Weak Hit) - 📖 Any scallywag with a blade was offering some sort of medical help. Most of them out of hope to gut the outsider from the inside out. Others to swindle a gullible idiot out of some money. Arden was relying on Pandora's abilities to read their true intentions.
Out of the way, hidden in a small alleway, Arden stumbled upon an old man outside of his establishment. Pandora was unusually calm around him. A medic in a long forgotten war. He was equally forgotten and shunted off to a backwater place, taking any opportunity to help people.
Maybe to make up for his sins or just to keep him busy and, frankly, alive. Arden didn't ask, nor would he care. Pandora was fine with him, so it should suffice for him as well.
🎲 Heal (+iron, +1): 8(6+1+1) vs 2/5 (Strong Hit) - 📖 "You have been very lucky, my friend" the old doctor proclaimed. "No broken bones, no infection, just a contusion."
He walked to a cabinet on the other side of the small examination room. Arden noticed a slight limp in his gate, probably and old war wound. The doctor searched for some seconds and then returned with a bottle of medgel and a box of painkillers.
"Here you go. As doctors said for thousands of years probably: Rest up, drink enough fluids and don't strain the arm. But these things seem to fall on deaf ears with you adventuring folk." He sat down in his chair, scratching Pandora next to him. - 📖 Arden followed the doctor's orders, probably not to his exact words, but in spirit. He was drinking fluids alright, but not the ones the doc had in mind. His days mostly consisted of waiting, for his ship to be fixed and any word from the Arbitrator.
- 📖 While being locked out of his ship, Arden had to be content with the amenities Deadrock provided. Even though he preferred sleeping in his bed on the ship, he found a little establishment, renting out rooms. Somehow these cramped rooms, reminded him of his normal accommodations.
Heavy knocks on the door, woke him up. It was still early in the morning and he was definitely not expecting anyone. Another set of knocks followed. This time harder and more impatient. Arden grabed his pistol by his bedside and opened the door.