Captain Jean Lafitte III was reloading his pistol when the clash happened. He wouldn’t have believed it, were it not for the fact that it was happening right before his eyes.
The dragon was raving mad with rage as it handled the new attachment to its cheekbone. Corrosive acid flew in random directions as it spit and clawed at the space around its face. Lafitte was mesmerized by the sight, the mix of pain, fury, and lethal weaponry played out in the clearing was certainly awe inspiring to those who could appreciate it.
He had no idea quite how long he watched until a voice penetrated his reverie, “Oh, dear,” the wizard’s gasp had Lafitte on the move immediately. “Oh, dear me, this is not a good thing. I believe I require some assistance, please, someone.” Jeneyeru was saying as Lafitte began making his way over to the wizard.
When he arrived Jeneyeru was entangled with Lotye and his servant. As the wizard was attempting to pick himself up, Lafitte saw the knife wound bleeding before him. “Anybody here a medic!?” he called out, “Anybody with any doctoring get your ass here now!” but that was all the time he took. Truth be told Lafitte knew little about wounds, he couldn’t even decide whether or not to pull the knife out immediately.
The only thing that did come to mind was an old sailor’s tradition of pouring rum over wounds. Supposedly it gave the wound a better chance of healing. Pulling a small flask out of his jacket he opened the top, “Just to warn you,” he said, “This is gonna hurt comme une salope”.
And with that, Lafitte poured the contents on Jeneyeru’s leg.