"We have incoming wounded! Mages teleporting in three! There will be a lull in our lull!" Doctor Penelope Delilah Richardson, formerly Professor of Herbology at Tarant University, rolled out of bed and groaned long and low. She shouldn't have drunk so much in the Officer's Club last night, but Geshtianna-Bless-Em they were supposed to be in a lull! She pulled a lab coat over her nightshirt as she ran across the compound, yawning adn gratefully accepting the midnight-black skull-cracker coffee the company clerk shoved at her as she passed. As soon as the mages teleported in the wounded, she was amongst them, diagnosing wounds and already planning who could be sent to the mage healers and who would require actual surgery. "Pen, over here!" She ran to the nurse, and her blood ran cold as she surveyed the gaping chest wound. It would take at least three hour to save his life, assuming he lived that... "Oh gods. Franklin Payne..."