A Regrettable Loss

Leon entered the room within the servants quarter belonging to the elder butler, finding Thorgul laid in bed with plentiful bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Beside the bed, the witch stood, sorting a variety of remedies from concoctions to foreign plants. 

"How's he?" Leon asked quietly, walking over to find the butler asleep. 

Beatrice looked down at the slumbering man, "I gave him Moon Milk to give him painless dreams for the time being. I managed to stabilize him, but he was in rough shape. He'll live, but it goes without saying he won't be fighting for the near future."

"Yeah, that's a given," Leon nodded in agreement, sitting down in the chair against the wall. 

Within the room of the senior-most employee of the mansion, along with books, the shelves housed plants that were taken care of with great delicacy by the butler. It was a spotless abode for the old man, a perfect encapsulation of who he was.