The notifications had been stacking while I fought.
I opened them standing in the middle of the slaughter field, because apparently that was when I had time.
Two items. A sterling greatsword and another sterling helmet, both flagged as requiring cleansing before appraisal. I moved them to inventory without checking the stats. That was a problem for later, preferably for Phinyx and his surprisingly versatile vibes.
I closed the notifications.
Jim was already closer, descending from his scouting altitude to a range where conversation was possible if you projected your voice. He stopped high enough to stay clear of the scene, studying the ground around me with the look of someone whose internal calculations had just returned an unexpected result.
"Allaran." He said. "Are you okay?"
It sounded like a question, but it felt like a report request.
"Yes." I said. "It got a little messy."
