He rushed through the alley hoping no one would see. How did he get here? There were 3 bodies in the house and he was covered in feathers, his clothes were in tatters and blood dripped from the gash in his right arm where he caught on the broken glass rolling out the window. Where was he even going from here...?! No one could see him until he figured out how to cover up these feathers... who could he even call?

Just then he felt something grab his arm and pull him into a doorway. Taking a deep breath prepared to fight back he came face to face with what he could only decide was someone lost from a rennaissance faire.... dressed as a bar wench...?

"um..." he started to speak as she covered his mouth and motioned for silence. she then led him toward another door down a stairwell. this must have been some sort of old storage cellar at some point.

Just before she closed the door behind them he heard an ungodly screaming from the alley then the door sparked like flint hitting steel and became a solid wall.

Turning around he realized they were in fact in a storage cellar... surrounded by casks of spirits from who knows where... or when... and moving on to the next room he saw food storage as well as a bunk space for kitchen staff.

she led him upstairs through what appeared to be a bustling medeival tavern with unusual cutomers.... some had claws or elongated jaws or tails while others appeared completely ethereal like whisps of dust barely formed into beings who were patrons of this odd tavern. He found himself in a room surrounded by dried herbs and odd skeletons and was pushed towards a chair in the center.

"Mair? is that ye?" asked a voice heavy with years

silence replied as the woman dressed as a bar wench rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh dear it must be... I forgot you are mute, I'm sorry dear... whom have you brought me? I smell an injured bird... suppose I best come see to it."

Shocked he looked at the woman dressed as a barwench. His eyes widened as he realized she hadn't spoken a single word nor used sign language but somehow was able to perfectly communicate to him with her actions. his arm was suddenly twisted and he screamed as the shoulder made a crunching sound and popped into place, he hadn't realized it was dislocated.

"ah yes, Mair... tweezers please, he's still got a bit of glass in here. then I'll need the kettle, some yarrow, comfrey, willow, and clove... we don't want an infection... no we do not."