Marth waved his good arm in a dismissive manner for what was probably the sixth time that day. "Johan, please, I'm fine."
"But sir your arm-"
"Is doing just fine in its sling. You needn't worry about me." Every day since they fought that chimera, Johan had been more or less nannying him. It was getting to be a bit of an annoyance.
"But sir," Johan protested, "it was my fau-"
"No Johan, it was the Chimera's fault, and partly my own, the fact that we killed that beast with little more the a broken arm is a good thing. Bones can be mended, lives cannot." Marth said that knowing that Johan had no sound argument to rebuttal the statement.
What had happened was just another day, a village contracted them to kill a troll, but when they got to the troll, a chimera had already killed, instead of keeping their distance, they attacked it. Johan taking the main offensive and Marth preparing to kill it with magic. But the chimera tossed Johan aside like a doll then charged at Marth. It clamped down on his right arm and shook him like a rag doll, breaking his arm in several places. In the end they killed the chimera, found its den and looted it. They didn't have much use for gold, many times the just redistributed it to the village in hopes that they would have a place to stay if they were ever passing back though. But there was a lot of gold in that den. And Marth got had an idea of what to do with it. Currently, the gold was amassed into a brick that was hidden in his sling. It weighed about thirty pounds.
"Well Johan, I think we have been standing here long enough." He brought his hand up to the massive knocker to the door to Agatha Mirran's mansion, knocking once, twice, and a third times.