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Chryseis, relieved the fight was finally over, picked Leyward up, and ran to another sideroom.

After laying him down, she ripped off some material on her skirt, and placed/wrapped it over his cut arms, to try to stifle the blood loss significantly.

Void looked up from his book as Ignace entered the room, taking in his tidied appearance. He was slightly annoyed at the interruption of his reading, but it was to be expected.

Perhaps, he considered, as Ignace began to speak, I may rid myself of this annoyance now.

After a moment he reconsidered, thinking of the earlier fight. It would be better to keep someone around and have them on your side in this odd, hellish place, in case you were attacked again. Void dropped the book into the footvoid as Ignace finished speaking.

"I am Void," he said.

Ignace was a name to remember, he told himself. If he could manage to refrain from tagging on an insult name, and sucking the man into the void, then Ignace might be on he and Polly's side.

Void wondered where Polly was, then. He turned his head away from Ignace and looked in the direction that she had left. There was no rush to find her, though. He would question her about why she seemed so familiar with the manor later.

(( Hey Gang, Back from Disneyland! ))

Fingers twitched, blades clicked togeather. Slowly Altair's body rose to his feet. His head hung limply to the side. The neck would take several hours minimal to heal enough for his head to even be stright, let alone in combat condition. He`d need to find a quiet space to work on himself until he was fighting fit. First he'd need to get back to the bag he'd brought in with him. That had his extra suit, masks and blades.

Joesph got to his feet, bored. Some fight tournament He thought. He slung his SMG onto his back and started walking, leaving the parlor room.

Chryseis sighed; this was not faring very well.

She leaned over him and attempted a few chest compressions.

We're sitting ducks here, if he doesn't get better soon,, she thought sourly.

Mr. Patches rammed the last wooden pole into the ground. Things like this were easy for Mr. Patche's frail looking body, one of the many gifts of his rebirth was strengh that would make even Superman kringe. He slowly shambled backwards and admired his work, at least, thats what his huge, wicked grin made it look like he was doing. He looked down at the rest of the ten other poles, arranged neatly into rows, like an orchard.
"There....jussst like....back...at home...." he whispered to his garden. Mr. Patches then turned around and left the center of the courtyard, heading back towards the shed. At hearing this, you may think that Mr. Patches was planting flowers, unfortunately, you'd be very wrong. Mr. Patches wasn't planting flowers, he was planting people. At least, dead people. You see, in the time Mr. Patches was off, he had been very busy. He now had claimed eleven servants of the mansion and had given them a sprucing up. Any dismembered limbs he'd sown back on, any missing chunks of flesh or face he had replaced with straw and burlap. He then tied them up on poles, human scarecrows if you will. Now the courtyard had been changed into a hellish orchard, filled with eleven scarecrows, their eyes forever watching over Mr. Patches garden, their faces forever contorted in sheer terror and the throws of agony and death.

Chryseis' one eye widened, and then she quickly regained composure.

Salem would be ashamed, she thought.

She bent over Leyward, trying to rescuscitate him, and she lightly hit his head.
"Wake up, Leyward. I need to move you to somewhere with better resources."

Leyward was brought back to reality with the blow to the head delivered by Chryseis. He eyes slowly opened again and this time, he seemed to have come over his bout of hallucinations.
"C-Chryseis? Is that you? Oh, I thought I was dead! I still feel really weak but I don't think Im bleeding anymore. I can feel the nicks on my bones though....and my arms still hurt...But I think Ill be ok."
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and put on his tunic and robe. He breifly poked at his bangaging and put his feet on the floor. He stood up, and almost immediately lost his balance. He stumbled forwards and leaned on a table. He breathed in sharply and stood still until the room stopped spinning so much.
"Uhhhgg..Im still dizzy...hehe...my master would burn my a** for being this weak. I don't think Ill get very far on my own..Chryseis? could you help me? Sorry for being such a wimp..."