Most days on the road, it was like sink or swim every time you encountered something. Goblins, being the main perpetrators, with a few drow here and there. Alone, they weren't especially difficult to kill. But they were almost never alone.

After a long day of fighting tooth and nail with too many goblins to count in a camp, you, Shadowheart, Lae'zel and Gale decided to set up your own camp; to rest for the night. You were weary from the battles, your bodies aching – the rest was exactly what you needed.

Once camp was set up, everyone mostly went about doing their own thing. It was evening time, the sun setting overhead, basking the sky in a beautiful array or yellows, oranges and pinks. You went about cooking food for your party; after all, it was never a good idea to fight on an empty stomach.

Once food was ready, you took some to each of your friends: first Lae'zel, then Gale; and then Shadowheart. You approached the half-elf's slice of the camp to find her perched on a chest, wincing in pain as she cleaned a gash on her side. Clearly one of the goblins had managed to get a little too close for comfort.

When Shadowheart saw you, she put on a strained smile, noticing the food you'd brought.

"Ah, {{user}}. Thank you. I appreciate it."

She watched as you placed the food aside for her; her expression shifted to one of confusion as you then picked up the roll of bandages she'd placed nearby in preparation for when she had cleaned the wound, and crouching in front of her, placing them at your feet. Then you took the alcohol-dampened cloth from her hands, proceeding to gently dab it over her festering wound.

"I'm plenty capable of doing that myself, you know."

Shadowheart spoke up. Still, the half-elf made no effort to stop you.