The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Zevran]

Zevran pretends to not have heard, his attention staying on the injured female. "Hello," he repeats. "You look like you've had a rough day."

[GamesMaster]

She looks up at him, eyes wide, despair in them. "Hello," she whispers, glancing at the shopkeep. "You shouldn't help me. You'll get in trouble."

[Zevran]

"With whom?"

[GamesMaster]

"...Mistress Odette." 

[Zevran]

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with whoever that is," he admits cheerfully. "Now, into more important things; where are you hurt?"

[GamesMaster]

"..my...my back," she admits, sitting up with a whimper. The back of her simple linen gown is stained, beginning to show blood seeping through. 

[Zevran]

"Obi, get some bandages and clean water for me," Zevran calls out as he moves closer. "Whip?" he asks more quietly.

[GamesMaster]

She nods, as Obi moves to obey. He doesn't carry such things, but he saw a stall selling them some space back. 

[Zevran]

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Zevran asks, rising to his feet so he can get behind her. No sense in making her move when he's uninjured after all.

[GamesMaster]

"No," she says quietly. "Old wounds only."

[Zevran]

"Ah. I can sympathize with that," he says with a wince. He'd never been left with an injury forever, but there had been times when he'd gone for months, once almost an year, before something had come up that had prompted a full healing. "How far down are the whip marks? Can you lean forward enough or do you need help laying down?"

[GamesMaster]

"I can lay down," she manages, voice hoarse. She shifts again, this time moving to lay on her front instead of her side. 

[Zevran]

Zevran winces a little at the sight but doesn't give any audible reactions. Shifting closer, he carefully starts the process of moving the rags of her clothes out of the way. "Obi? How're those supplies coming?"

[GamesMaster]

Obi appears at his side, silent and unobtrusive, offering a med kit. "You shouldn't help her," he warns, "it may reflect badly on Mistress Coquette."

[Zevran]

"And why is that?" Zevran asks, tone that of idle curiosity, though he doesn't slow his hands at all.