C.A.R.P.S.

[Clonk]

The mass of green muscle and clanking metal known as Clonk made his way into the tavern, ordered his usual cider, and made his way to the board. Sausage-like fingers fumbled in a pack and produced a leaf of parchment, the hand-writing clearly of someone with more grace (and education) than the Orc.

"Clonk wishes to enhance his capability on the fields of battle by learning to stabilize his wounded allies, and to better pull his blows when his duties call for it." [First Aid]

Looking around, Clonk looks for anyone present who might be willing to help.

[midwinterdreams]

Treeman steps up, "I would be happy to and it would be very welcome on the battlefield."

[Clonk]

Clonk grinned and gave a nod. He had grown to trust the Treeman on the battlefield, and looked forward to learning from the renowned Ga'vin.