"No, but it DOES make me feel better. And it just so happens that I'm keenly aware of the dangers of this area, given that I've raided bandit camps in and out of this region quite a few times in the past six years. But this wasn't a typical bandit attack. They were laying for us, and only us. Most bandits wouldn't attack a caravan this well protected unless there was a big haul."
He sat down and began to remove his ringmail and leathers, then raised the rest of his clothing so he could examine his wound. It didn't look too bad, only about an inch deep, but it was filthy. He groaned, then reached into his pack again and withdrew a small pot and a wineskin. He set the pot along the fire and poured a healthy amount of wine into it.
The rib was better news. It was a clean break, so he wouldn't have any need to fiddle with it. Conventional wisdom said to tape the ribs, but that usually caused other problems. Best to leave it alone.
"I think this is all the revelries I'll need for one night."
He wrapped his hand in his leathers, then pulled the pan of the fire, now filled with boiling wine. This is a really, really bad idea.
Pouring boiling wine into a wound was an effective way of cleansing the wound of infection from what he had learned. The problem being twofold - it hurt like hell, and it had a tendency to get where you didn't want it, unless the wound went straight through you.
Also, you usually had someone giving you a hand, but this group was lucky it could tie their collective bootlaces.
He gritted his teeth and poured the wine, the pain catching him off-guard. He bit back a scream, but kept up the pour, the cleansing wine flowing into the wound. He dropped the pan and grabbed a roll of linen bandages, using one end to mop up the still-hot wine, then began to bandage himself.
He settled himself for a moment, catching his breath and trying to ignore the stings of fresh burns.
"Alright, Dwarf. Tell me, have you been sniffing the filings off that Mythril? It addles your brain, you know. You still haven't told us how much we're getting paid for helping you haul your Mythril across this god-forsaken landscape. You really expect us to walk into a bandit lair to rescue your precious valuables without some kind of a bonus?"