Yvonne reacted on instinct so much more than thought. The kobold leader's hand had been dismembered at the wrist - he was bleeding profusely and screeching in pain, such a terrible sound to hear. The grey dwarf could almost feel his pain, his screech shook her to the core. His kobold cohorts collected him from the floor and seemed to know how to stitch together his stub, but they were going to have an astounding amount of fun trying to poke a needle and thread through a freshly exposed wound.

The black-skinned hybrid had found her mortar and pestle and was busy mashing a redcap into a fine paste. Her practiced hand had ground the toadstool to slime in a matter of seconds, fifteen or so and she set the mortar on the bar, clinking the pestle against it busily to free the last globs from the tool. Taking a cutlery knife in one hand, and stretching out the side of her skirt with the other, she sliced free a large enough piece of material to make a poultice. She placed the cotton on the bar beside the mortar and pestle, added some flour to thicken the paste and applied the paste to the cotton.

The hybrid herbalist rushed around in front of the bar again, taking up the moist, slimy material and brought it quickly to the critically injured monster. His cohorts barred the way at first - no trust for any race other than kobold, and this one was twice as untrustworthy - but Yvonne's enough-of-this-nonsense look caused them to cower and step slightly aside. They watched her with bated breath, hands on their hilts, crossbows at the ready, very protective of their general.

Yvonne came close to Gru'Hal, stopping between the needler-kobold and the threader-kobold to get a better look at the wound.

"Allow me," she whispered only to them. "I'll need a bandage, ye have one don't ye? Something ta secure it?" They set their needles and threads down, rummaging through their disorganized medical supplies, obeying her directions. Meanwhile Yvonne took hold of Gru'Hal by the arm and applied the poultice directly to the open wound.

"ARGH! THAT HURTSS!" The kobold leader hissed, still infuriated. Many of the other kobolds flinched, half-drew swords from their scabbards, jumped and squealed in panic.

"Oh, don't be a big baby. Ye need ta be strong! Yer minions be watching," Yvonne smiled as she let go his arm and took the bandage from threader-kobold, setting to wrapping over the wound poultice and all, around and around. It was rather firm and she was satisfied with the bound stub, fixing it with a pin to hold it together. "I've applied medicine that will help with yer pain and should stop tha blood. It'll make ye feel much better. Ye might start seeing things which aren't there, but don't worry. Ye'll feel very relaxed by then."

"Blessingss to you, black-skin," Gru'Hal hissed in thanks. He was a much more subdued creature than when he was about to conquer the pub, breathing heavily, his expression defeated.

Yvonne looked into his pained yellow eyes and touched his shoulder comfortingly. "It's going ta be alright. I'll look after ye," she assured, chuckling happily. She turned to needler-kobold and threader-kobold and gave further instructions. "Ye might try stitching him up while he's asleep tonight. Should go better." They nodded their agreement and she walked away, out of the crowded circle of metal-baring reptilians.

"Now, drinks!"