Firestone Hot Springs I think I could, if only I knew how to begin

Herbs. How many different types were there? Three, perhaps - those that healed, those that harmed, and those that killed. That was his best guess; he knew practically nothing of them. A healer had applied a poultice to his back long ago, believing that it would prevent his open wounds from festering, but whether it had really had any effect, Siegfried couldn't say. His back had felt fiery - and then the fire had continued, unabated, with the added stickiness and aroma of the mysterious concoction.

"Oh, I'm interested. I used to spar almost daily, but I've been without an opponent, and shadow-sparring is not to my liking." He stood and began to move around Arielle in a wide circle, stretching his legs, shoulders, and hips mid-stride, feeling the frigid air wrap itself around him. "What about rules? You can decide them, if you like." A memory of his trainer flashed through his mind; he hadn't had a penchant for setting limitations. "Some of the scrapes I've been in, it's a wonder I still have both ears, both eyes, and my nose." He smiled a little at Arielle, thinking he didn't have to worry about her removing a piece of him today. "Glad you and I don't have to worry about rearranging our faces," he added lightly, not wanting to give her the impression that he was seeking such a vicious spar.

@Arielle