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Sweet_Wyvern

The Blacksmith and the Apothecary

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So we can change the title if you want xd.png

Did you want to start mid-battle, or have it build up to that? I think the latter would be better, as we can each take NPCs for the time being.

Edited by Sweet_Wyvern

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(Wait, I think you misunderstood me. I meant it would be better not to start in the fight, but if you prefer that we can)

 

Tony Stark was a lot of things. Handsome, flirtatious, the best blacksmith in all of Midgard. He'd tried his hand at serving as a knight, but it had only gotten him an ugly cluster of scars on his chest. After that, he had decided to change his policy. No longer would he sell his finely crafted weaponry to those who would clearly only use it for evil. And he wouldn't fight anymore- at least he thought so. Then the king's personal guard were knocking on his door, informing him he didn't have a choice because they needed men like him, men with experience. One does not simply disobey Fury, so here he was, sword gripped tightly in hand as a group of men walked into the woods to chase down werewolves. Of all things, werewolves were hunting their town. Just brilliant. He was going to murder someone if he got bit.

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(oh jeez sorry I'm jumping between different things atm. Yeah, we can just do this here and sort of build up to the fight. They wouldn't have interacted much before hand anyway.)

 

Bruce Banner wasn't truly anything special, or at least he didn't see anything special to be seen. He was just an old apothecary, a damned good one, but it wasn't as revered an occupation as, say, a priest or a knight, or even a smith, were. He simply collected and studied herbs, supplied them to people throughout the kingdom, learned some basic medicine and knew how to treat minor wounds, and tried to keep to himself for the most part. Nothing note worthy, or even interesting, really, if one didn't count his practices in alchemy, although there wasn't a soul who knew about that, so there was no one to consider it. So when he was approached by several of the King's guards and charged with the task of fighting off werewolves and treated the wounded, he didn't quite know what to say other than the expected "yes." So now he stood at the edge of the forest with the other men of the village, dawning slightly too-big armor and a shield, a bag of medical supplies strapped to his waist. He just prayed that he came out of this thing alive.

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It was just after nightfall that someone gave the order to move. "Why at night? When we cannot see?" Tony muttered irritably to himself, knuckles turning white from gripping the hilt of his sword too hard. He just needed to breathe. Torchlight reflected off his bright red, custom made armor, making him appear to be drenched in blood as he moved on with the rest of them. A quick glance around didn't do much for his confidence- most of the men looked frightened, or like they'd never touched a sword in their life. Some of them had armor practically hanging off their small frames. They were so doomed.

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Bruce swallowed hard as they were given the order, his heart hammering against his ribs in apprehension. He remained perfectly silent, though, but to his relief. Not comical clattering of metal as he worked not to tremble in anticipation, adrenaline already coursing through his veins. He crept quietly in the shadows, away from the torchlight for the most part. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he was here considering they hadn't even bothered to give him a sword. He only had a dagger and this shield of his. Of course, if he was treating someone, he doubted a sword would help much at all, given that he would actually be able to use-

 

A snarl ripped through the still air. Then all hell broke loose.

 

Flashes of teeth and claws, blurs of dark browns and blacks shooting past them, filled his vision, and the sounds of metal clashing and men screaming filled his ears. He stared in shock for a moment, but was broken from his thoughts as he felt a weight crash into his shield, sending him to the ground with a grunt.

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Tony paused when he heard a twig breaking, breath catching in his throat. Okay, here it comes. He heard a snarl before the area erupted into a cacophony of noise, all of it blending together into an inseparable mixture where he couldn't pick apart any individual sounds. He whirled in time to see a wolf leaping for him, a grotesque thing that stood on two legs with enormous pawed hands and an elongated muzzle. By instinct alone he saved himself, slashing with his sword and ripping its throat open. There was more than one though, so he quickly launched himself into battle, stabbing anything with fur.

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From what he was able to tell, it seemed to be a man, a knight by the looks of it, rather than a beast that lie sprawled wriggling atop him, although he couldn't truly say he was relieved by this revelation. Screams tore through the other man's throat, and he struggled against some unseen foe, causing metal armor to clang and scrape against his shield.

Bruce pushed up against his shield in an attempt to shift the weight that crushed his chest, to give himself more mobility, but with a sudden jerk and a canine-like whine, the other grew still and slumped against him, much to his surprise. He grit his teeth, and with a final shove he threw the knight off, wide eyes darting across the small space.

Men were being slaughtered, simple merchants with little to no experience in battle, much like himself. His gaze shifted toward the fallen knight beside him, and he swallowed, bile rising to his throat at the sight of ripped, bloodied chain-mail and claws marks along armor. Whatever these things were, be it beast or demon, they possessed strength the likes of which he'd never seen before.

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Tony's gaze darted about the clearing, taking in the scene. They were literally being slaughtered- at this rate, he'd die merely because he was the last one left! This had been a horrible idea, and now these men were paying for the mistake with their lives. Stabbing his sword through the back of a half dead wolf, he jogged forward and picked up a fallen torch. He had another half cocked plan, but it was their only option. Dodging and skirting individual scraps, he reached a leafy tree and stuck the blazing torch amongst the branches. As he'd hoped, fire quickly began to catch, and with several trees surrounding, it also began to spread. He nearly tripped over a man as he was backing away, but upon looking he saw that whoever it was happened to be alive.

Kneeling, Tony grabbed him by the hand and forcibly tugged the stranger to his feet. "Stay near the fire- we have to regroup! Spread the word!" He shouted over the sounds of battle and chaos, then let go of him as he ran back into battle. He wouldn't die, not today.

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Bruce was abruptly broken away from his thoughts when he was pulled harshly to his feet, and he stared at the stranger in bewilderment. The man was gleaming with scarlet, both of a mixture of the armor he wore and the blood of beasts. He wouldn't want to be on opposing sides, that much Bruce was certain.

At the other's words, he nodded in understanding, eyes flickering up to the pillar of flame that only seemed to grow with each passing moment. He brought his shield up closer to his face and did his best to find anyone and everyone that hadn't been mauled to death by now and give them instruction, with little luck. Almost everyone but perhaps a few of the King's better knights still stood, but they wouldn't be for much longer if they didn't get out of here.

Breathing hard, he approached one of them, Sir Rogers possibly, judging by the few locks of gold that had escaped his chain-mail. "Sir! We should regroup at the fire, we're being slaughtered out here!" he yelled.

The knight spared him a sidelong glance, his lips quirking into a tired smile as he slashed again with his...shield. (Perhaps he'd been forced to abandon his sword in the melee, Bruce thought.) "Why, are you tired already?" he questioned, but Bruce could see the look in his cerulean orbs that said he knew Bruce was right. "Draw back!" he shouted, already backing away from the wolf.

Bruce sighed in relief and turned to follow the group, but halted and fell to the ground as pain pierced his ankle. One of the pack members had him by the teeth, a growl rumbling from its chest as it all but chomped through the metal as if it were stale bread. He didn't even have time to scream before he felt himself being dragged off and away from what little firelight they had and into darkness.

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His back to the flame, Tony hacked and slashed at everything that came near. He didn't have time to wonder about the scrawny man with brown eyes, he had to focus on the world around him. He'd been lucky enough to stay unharmed so far, but that could change at any moment. Casting a glance from side to side to see the remaining men, Tony lifted his sword in preparation for whatever else would come next. The fire might be their saving grace, if it drove the wolves off. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye, but the time he saw it, whatever it was had already gone.

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Fear nearly overwhelmed the old apothecary, nearly paralyzed Bruce completely, his heart fluttering in his chest like a hummingbird, but he knew that if he didn't escape now, he would never get the chance. As the creature dragged him further into blackness, he dug fingers into the cold, damp earth, snagged and sliced his palms on roots and low-hanging branches, trying to grab a good hold on something to gain some form of resistance against his attacker, but soon his hands were slick with blood, and the chances of him being able to hold anything were slim to none.

 

A pained cry rose to his lips as the wolf dug its teeth deeper into his armor, embedding metal into skin and bone. He was about to lose all hope of getting out of this alive, just about ready to give up completely, but there was one final shred of fight left in him, it seemed, and in a last ditch attempt at escape, Bruce kicked and flailed against the beast's hold. He managed to get out one well aimed kick, and he caught the wolf square in the jaw, which caused it to loosen its grip ever-so-slightly.

 

He took his opportunity and jabbed at it again, pulling himself upright in order to get some more momentum. He'd lost his shield long ago in his struggle to break free, but he managed to snag his hand on a larger branch not far from him, and he swung, hitting it repeatedly with all the strength he could muster, desperate to get away from this thing.

 

Apparently werewolves didn't enjoy being bashed on the head with clubs, and the beast fought back tooth and claw, aiming for Bruce's neck, his arms, his face, any exposed skin at all. Bruce screamed in agony, but continued to beat and swing with all of his might until he heard the satisfying crack of fractured bone, and the wolf finally went still against him.

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Tony kicked away a dead body of the last wolf he'd killed, a dent in his armor where now where he'd nearly suffered a bite. Luckily, the teeth hadn't pierced the metal to get at his arm. He paused as he heard screaming nearby, glancing to his side to check on the other men fighting. It looked like things were starting to sway to their side, so he jogged towards the screaming, determined not to let any more men die. What he found had bile rising in his throat. The poor man from before was practically mutilated before him, a wolf unmoving on top of him. Pushing the thing off with his foot, he knelt over the apothecary. "Gods- hold still. I.. It's going to be okay," he stammered, horrified.

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Bruce whimpered softly as the wolf as moved off him, although he was grateful to be relieved off that particular burden; it was hard enough to breathe with all of this metal on your chest without the added dead weight, thanks. His body trembled with shock, numbed from the worst of the pain, but surprisingly enough he remained fairly alert, lifting his gaze to look at the stranger, studying him with a tight jaw. "I-I s-s-saw you b-before...a-at the f-fire...who..?" he stuttered, barely managing the words.

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"Tony Stark," he cut off, deciding that he needed to focus on breathing. "Stay awake, please. We'll get you to the apothecary, and he will fix you up. Can you stand? No, scratch that- just hold still. Brace yourself for this may hurt," he warned, carefully sliding his arms under the battered man. After a moment's thought, he took Bruce's hand and placed it on the worst wound, a severe bite on his thigh. "Put pressure on this here, and stay awake for me- that's an order," he commanded, lifting the man into his arms and moving towards the fiery clearing. He wasn't sure why he was so adamant about helping this poor being, but he would. No more would die. As a second thought, he gave the fire and fighting a wide birth so that they weren't targeted.

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A weak, broken chuckle rose to Bruce's lips, transforming into a sharp gasp as he was hoisted into Tony's arms. "I do...d-do not th-think I will b-be of much use, I-I'm afraid," he muttered, lips twitched up into a bitter smile. He blinked black spots from his vision and produced a sort of gurgling sound in his throat, meant to be a sign of comprehension as he pressed weakly against the wound. He swallowed, trying to clear his airways a bit. "B-Ban...n-ner. B-Bruce," he introduced, forcing his heavy lids to remain open as his savior carried them away from battleground.

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It took the blacksmith a few moments to realize what rhe man was saying. He was the apothecary. Tony swore under his breath, trying to assess the severity of the wounds on the man as he carried him through the woods. Whether he was light or Tony was hopped up on adrenaline was unclear, but regardless he carried Bruce with ease, skirting fallen logs and large branches. "Its good to meet you, Bruce," he said, trying to distract him as he reached the edge of the forest. He could see a house nearby; they could request help of the people inside, hopefully. "I am a black smith, not quite a medical professional, but I'll do my best to help you," he promised.

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The smiled remained on his features as Bruce nodded, blinking tiredly up at the other, breaths becoming more shallow and ragged with each step. "S-supp..lies i-in bag," he stammered, motioning as best he could to the rucksack of various herbs and wraps tied around his waist. Tony might not be able to supply medical experience, but without him, he would have died in that forest, alone and shrouded in darkness. He was grateful for having made it this far.

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Tony made it to the door and kicked it several times, his own way of knocking. When a red head opened the door he pushed past her, apologizing as he went as laid Bruce down on what looked like a bed in the corner. "Incredibly sorry ma'am but we need your help," he said, quickly opening Bruce's bag and rooting through its contents cluelessly. What was he supposed to do with this stuff? "Sir Banner, I need you to help me out here. Talk me through it, keep your eyes open," he said, startled when the woman approached and began cleaning blood away from his wounds without a word. They would have a discussion later.

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Bruce winced as he was jostled and placed on the cot, and he was forced to readjust the hand on his thigh, still slick with hot crimson liquid. He just tried not to think of what exactly that liquid was. Eyes flickering closed for a brief moment, the apothecary forced them back open, urging himself to focus. "N-need to t-take...armor...t-t-take i-it off," he hissed through clenched teeth, his entire frame trembling inside his broken metal cocoon.

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Tony started undoing buckles and snaps, moving remarkably quick. Armor was his trade after all, he knew how to put it on and take it off in mere seconds. Soon he had undone he chest plate and gauntlets, carefully pulling the helmet away and then sliding the back of the chest plate out from under the injured man. "You're doing good, keep going. You, woman, start binding the lesser wounds. I'm going to have to treat the big ones," he ordered, tossing a roll of bandages at her. She took it all in stride- really, his kind of woman, who was she? Not important, focus.

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Bruce grit his teeth as the blacksmith pulled away his armor piece by piece, his flesh screaming in protest as shards of metal were removed from his wounds. His vision faded into black for a long moment, the pain becoming nearly overwhelming, but he blinked through it, swallowing down a mixture of bile and blood. "Cl-clean...h-hav'to..." his voice trailed off, and he huffed in frustration as he was unable to form proper words.

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"Focus on breathing, Bruce. It's going to hurt, but surely you must have some sort of pain killing medical magic in this bag? Woman- please, whiskey, if you have it. He'll pass out if we don't dull the pain," Tony requested, and just like that she was gone. Tony took up the wet rag she had left and carefully began cleaning out wounds, pulling away shards of metal. "You're doing good. Just keep breathing in and out."

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Right, breathing, that was...a good suggestion. Bruce forced his jaw even tighter, sucking in another breath through his teeth, and exhaling shakily through his nose, his back arched against the thin, straw mattress as he suppressed a scream. He reeled, trying to come up with some sort of solution, some herb to use. After a moment, he thought of at least a simple something that might help. "C-Cloves...Ach-chellia ointment...and Rose..m-mary...b-burn th'latter," he managed. He thanked God that his vials were labeled, or else he wasn't sure the other would understand what to do. He still might not but...at least he tried, right?

Edited by lord-of-the-nerds-and-fandoms

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Tony paused in what he was doing to look through the bag, pulling out different vials that he'd marked and just repeated out loud. "Do you eat the cloves?" He asked as he got out the ointment first, carefully rubbing small portions of it into the worst wounds. He knew he couldn't waste it- so in the mean time he withdrew a flint and quickly filled a bowl with rosemary, which began to smolder after he struck the flints above it several times. He then set the incense near Bruce's head. The whiskey was brought back to him then as well, a tall glass of it, which he held up to the man's lips while supporting his head. "Drink, slowly now."

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