Ezrest Castle, towering over the cityscape, is a marvel of architecture. It houses rooms of all kinds, including its very own infirmary located in the castle’s western spire.

Run by King Deanreldy himself, alongside a team of doctors, the doors are open to anyone in need of medical care.

Medicines, salves, ointments, and herbs are always in abundant supply, and the ward is lined with rows of clean, well-kept beds.

King Deanreldy had just finished treating someone for a broken arm, it seemed. He sent them off with a warm goodbye and a wave before sitting down once more.

"Hello there," he asked, gesturing toward a nearby stool. "How can I help you today?" He asked, with a charming smile on his face.