She needs a healer, and so does he.

As much as he preferred the tavern, he wasn't stupid, she needed a healer. Hell, he needed a healer. Grudgingly making his way toward the somewhat gothic looking abbey, he pushed though one of the large wooden doors, and walked into the vestibule. The place was as dilapidated as the outside, and the rest of the forsaken hamlet. A basin stood on a pedestal near the center, likely filled with regular water, holy water was far to expensive to just leave laying around.

The doors to either side of the small foyer held little interest to him, instead he made his way through the huge doorway leading into the main chapel area. The pews rested in an orderly fashion along each side of the aisle, but the vast majority of them were covered in dust and cobwebs. Only a few near the front seem to have found any usage in recent weeks, or months maybe.

Beyond the pews rested a large altar designed to look like three levels of shelves, that started at waist high, and rose up to head high. The top row held statues depicting the nine gods, while the two rows below held rows of candles, most of which were lit. This was a good sign, it meant despite its deserted appearance, that someone maintained the place.

Out of a hallway to the left, a priest walked into view. The young man in his early thirties was dressed in a black habit that hung past his ankles, and was buttoned up the front. The nine silver buttons, each had a different emblazoned symbol, representing each of the gods. His hair was short, and black, and thin glasses perched on his sharp nose.

Artur knew this abbey to be a Temple of the Nine, a place where all religious beliefs were considered equal, and piety to one god over another, was never encouraged. Instead they followed the belief that all gods played their role, and that any who preferred a specific god, could live in harmony, even with those who worshiped their antithesis.

“Is she hurt?” The young man asked hurrying over to them.

“Our wagon broke a wheel while we were inside it.” Artur explained.

The man nodded looking her over with a cursory observation. “Come with me.” He nodded, leading them back the way he came.

The hallway ran parallel to the nave, where the pews rested, and rows of doors each led to individual rooms where people could worship, pray, or meditate in peace. Walking into the first one, the priest quickly pulled the thin blanket off the cot to the side, and gestured for the woman to be laid down. The room was simple, with a cot, a nightstand, and an alcove with the symbol of the nine resting inside of it. The symbol was a flaming phoenix, with a large circle emblazoned within its breast. Inside the circle, rested an eye, looking out at it's disciples. Surrounding the eye, in the space between it, and the circle's wall, were the nine symbols of the nine gods, all in a harmonious wheel.

Artur placed Tara in the cot, and the priest ran his hands over the air above her, searching her wounds, with divine insight. Placing his right hand on her forehead, and his left on her stomach, his hands glowed a soft yellow hue, and she seemed to relax, the pain on her face melting to peaceful slumber.

“I've stabilized her for now, shall we tend to you?” The priest asked, with a smile.

“How much for all of this?” The bounty hunter asked.

The man smiled softly. “No charge, but if you feel the need, there's a collection box near the altar of nine.”

Artur didn't trust things that were given freely. Nothing was free. “Fine.” The man sighed extending his crushed right hand.

The priest took the suspicious man's hand, and let his healing flow into him, repairing the damage. Taking a moment to heal each piece of him the priest was sweating slightly by the time his rituals were completed.

“I can make a room for you, if you need.” The priest offered.

Artur shook his head. “No thanks, I have work to do.” He said, now that he was healed.

He had lost his only helper, so heading to the Coaching House, might be good. He could hire some mercenaries to help him in his forays. Then again, information might be useful to. Perhaps he should find the mayor, and gather what intel he could.