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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 18:42:10 GMT -5
This manor is a squat and ugly gathering of stone, mortar and wood situated upon a hill. It looks positively ancient, and as though it has seen better days. The first signs of repair and renovation are obvious across the unlovely building. Windows which are broken appear to have been boarded, but the roof slouches badly. Despite this, smoke billows in a friendly way from the chimney. From the unbroken windows, a passer-by might see the inviting glow of a friendly hearthfire.
Along the grounds, some rudimentary work has been done in an attempt to hack back the wildlife and manage the tall grasses that threaten to try and engulf the structure. The rolling hillside the ramshackle structure is built upon gives way to what appears to have been an orchard, and perhaps farmlands. The rotten and decaying fence line would certainly hint to that conclusion. A well appears to hide along the back side of the manor, and beyond the overgrown orchard lies a stream, trailing merrily into the woods beyond.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 19:52:09 GMT -5
Murder. She was going to murder him.
She paced for what must have been the eightieth time past the door to their home, glancing out the window into the darkness beyond.
He was supposed to be back hours ago. Honestly, how long does it take to follow up on a job prospect? Apparently the entire day. Perhaps he got a job and is working late? Maybe he's muscle for someone. Maybe he's working mucking stables. MAYBE he's dead in a ditch somewhere.
Truthfully, if she didn't think he'd back soon, she'd be out looking for him herself. Calm down, Astris. You're doing no one any good by worrying.
Absolutely murder him.
She looks around the room for some semblance of distraction. There is plenty to do, however the will and understanding of how to repair the leaking rafter is a bit beyond her. The room is warm, but sparse. Gifts of furniture and useful household items were given at their wedding of course, but the every day comfort of home still seems far at bay.
One day they'll fix the peeling ceiling. For now, she just has to wait. She sits with a huff on a worn couch nearby the window, and waits for a sign of Ikram coming home.
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Post by Fyrra Na'Limndra on Feb 29, 2016 20:30:09 GMT -5
-"Why do I have to carry him?"-
-"Are you serious right now? Look at me, Merrake. I barely am carrying myself."-
-"I know, shit. I'm just griping. Not happy if I'm not griping. Which house do you think it is?"-
-"I don't know. All he said was 'Home', like I'm supposed to know where that is."-
-"Let's try this one."-
-"Sure, glad it's summer... otherwise we'd be freezing to death."-
They had been wandering around in the night for a while. For them, day or night, it didn't make much difference. Temperatures were different, there was a slight difference in the light due to the absence of many shadows. But it wasn't enough for them to actually not know where they were. They hadn't really been that lost before, they were looking for a place to stay. Now they searched for the stranger's home.
Merrake had hoisted him onto her shoulders. He was heavier than she thought, but she managed it. She dared not to manage it. Failing him would mean failing to help the man that probably saved their lives. She endured Fyrra's hapless searching. The Kalimbra had knocked on several doors already. This was the last one they were going to try before attempting to go to the castle, the central government of Sorath. They would help a wounded man, surely.
Fyrra rapped her knuckles on the door, and in her almost accent free Cruic tried her best to remain at a polite volume.
"Hello? We have found a man here. He's injured, is he yours?"
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 20:38:19 GMT -5
Ikram is currently a well-bloodied mess with a haphazardly bound tourniquet made from the tatters of his shirt lashed and tied across his chest. He is actively bleeding from an obscured wound. He is unconscious and his head is tilted to the side, and while his eyes are closed his brow is furrowed in pain and sweat beads down from his forehead. He also appears significantly paler than he had when he left his home earlier in that day. Blood also coats his spear's head and a significant portion of the haft.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 29, 2016 20:43:57 GMT -5
Astris awoke from her dozing with a start when she heard knocking on the door. She looked out the window at the unfamiliar figures in the shadows, and the accented voice in the dark. A man? Maybe...
She opened the door, a short way first, then completely when she recognized Ikram's form in the low light. "Ikram! Please...come in..come in." She gestures for the two to enter as quickly as possible.
The room is in need of repair, that much is obvious. There is a leak occurring in the ceiling near one of the corners. Water is slowly accumulating in a bucket. However, the room itself seems clean.
She gestures for the two to place him on a nearby couch. "Where did you find him?" she inquires of the two strangers, looking from Ikram's bloodied person, to them..realizing with a start that they are Drokagr.
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Post by Fyrra Na'Limndra on Feb 29, 2016 21:15:32 GMT -5
-"Your luck astounds me."-
Fyrra didn't acknowledge Merrake. Instead she made way for the other Drokagr.
Merrake carried the man inside and placed him down on the couch as was indicated. The warrior didn't know what to do with herself now that she didn't have a task. Instead she began to focus on the state of herself, and the desperate feeling of wanting to be clean again. She wiped her hands as clean as she could, but the blood was covering her as much as it was him and Fyrra. It was hopeless without soap or water she'd be stained for days.
-"Ach... my clothes are ruined. Ask her if she has spares, I can't stand this."-
Fyrra saw this as an opportunity to tell the story, as the woman was inquiring. She mentally noted that the man's name was Ikram. Not a hard name for her to remember. A lot of Cruinthians had hard names, names that didn't make any sense. At least not to her, but she didn't have much of an ear for Cruic. She closed the door behind her, not wanting to let the night air in. Not wanting other people to see her in this state. A Kalimbra, covered in someone else's blood. She wouldn't feel clean for a long time after this.
"Uh.. we found him in the Ring Market. He found us. Bandits tried to rob us. He fought. She fought. They killed both the bandits. We stopped the blood, mostly. Potions or rest should help."
-"Did you ask her?"-
"This is Merrake Av'Manait, my bodyguard. She needs to... undress... and get new clothes. Probably a bath. For both of us. Oh! How rude of me. I forgot myself. I'm Kalimbra Fyrra Na'Limndra."
Fyrra was just getting a look around the manor. Yes, it was a large building. But it had seen better days. Of course, it was clean, as it was lived in. There were repairs that were most likely necessary as well. Still, it had to have a bath, or kitchen. Someplace with water. Cruinthian cities rarely lacked a waterworks. She wasn't sure about this one though, she had not been here long. That's when she realized she still had the wine. She held it out to the woman, a gift of good faith.
"Oh! The Zenora Blush. Half bottle left. Uhm... happy welcoming? I'm not sure of Hanneth traditions."
Merrake grew more agitated. She needed to get out of her clothes.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 13:47:50 GMT -5
"Bandits.." Her face clouded with worry, then looked back at Ikram. She furrowed her brow slightly, then looked back at the two strangers in her house. One of which, giving her wine. At a time like this. She takes it, looking somewhat confused.
"Yes, of course. Thank you. Please, make yourself at home. The kitchens are through there." She points down a hall, leading off into the interior of the house. "Forgive me, you will need to draw water from the well just outside the back door, but you can clean there. I must tend to him. If I might ask, when you two return, bring some water back with you."
With that, she kneels beside Ikram, and starts pulling clothing away from his wound, wincing at the look of it. She hoped her gambit with distraction of cleanliness draws the two strangers off into the rest of the house long enough for her to be able to heal her husband without prying eyes. If not, there will be no help for it, and he will have to deal with that when the time comes.
She takes off his ruined shirt handily, and presses it against his wound in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as much as possible.
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Post by Fyrra Na'Limndra on Mar 1, 2016 14:21:35 GMT -5
The woman had indicated water was available for them to wash with. That was good news to Fyrra, she wanted to relay that as soon as possible to Merrake. No more awkwardness, at least for the moment.
-"She said there's a well out back. We can wash there. No mention of clothes. We might be able to get most of it out though. Oh, and she'd like us to bring a pail of water when we are done."-
Fyrra said, leading her bodyguard out to the back. She wanted to leave them alone for a bit. Despite their efforts he could still die. The couple should be alone for that if it happened.
They reached the well with no problems. Merrake drew the water while Fyrra stripped down. Then the warrior picked it up and threw the contents on her. The Kalimbra scrubbed herself with her hands, rubbing her skin raw. The still wet and sticky blood was coming off if slowly. It was a relief.
Merrake then stripped herself down, drew a second pail and dumped it on herself. Fyrra finished up and gathered their clothes while her bodyguard washed. When she was done Merrake drew a third pail, which the clothes were stuffed into. Soaked, Fyrra removed them and started to rub them down against the stone rim of the well, while Merrake filled the bucket again and brought it inside.
Both half-drokagr silently chose to air dry. It was summer, and putting clothes that were still being washed back on was stupid. Merrake mumbled to the woman and man.
-"Thanks. For the water and the help."-
She then went back outside to help Fyrra with the laundry. The night air wasn't so bad.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 14:46:15 GMT -5
Astris watched the two strangers, holding pressure on Ikram's wound until they disappeared into the kitchen proper. She then quickly removed the filthy and bloody rag from his wound and placed her open palm directly over it, concentrating hard. Her mind and whispered words giving shape to the rote she'd spent so much time trying to memorize and know.
Skill/Spell Name: Mend Type:Spell Active Description: A flush of healing Effect: Heal self or other for 50 HP Cost:35 MP Applicable Knowledge Schools: Thaumaturgy/Healing
MP: 138/175
She concentrates as long as she dares, willing flesh to knit and sinew to mend. She hadn't quite realized the drain it would be, and for so little. Still, the bleeding seems to have stopped somewhat. She will have to try more later when the situation is less dire.
When one of the strangers comes back with water, she lifted her gaze to thank them for the water...however the words died in her throat when she realized they were naked. She quickly averted her gaze, cheeks reddening, not understanding what she says.
"Thank you for the water."
Upon the stranger's departure, she stands and leaves to retrieve some of her own and Ikram's clothing. She doesn't know what they prefer, but at least some covering is better than none.
She calls out the back door, from the kitchens once retrieved. "Uh, Excuse me, I've retrieved clothing for you. I'll..just leave this here for you. Right then." She sets the clothing down on the kitchen table, and returns to Ikram's side.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 15:28:46 GMT -5
HP: 105/300 I feel myself coughing in a distant, dream-like way. The sharp tang of blood on the tongue sobers me. The drift to wakefulness is anything but, and my consciousness is pushed into an alert state as though by an inhuman force. I groan, unwanting to open my eyes, and when I do I see first my wife, then her open-faced stare. I follow the look to see one of the women from the Ring Market standing nude in the parlor's entrance, muttering something before turning about-face and leaving.
I am, in this moment, unsure if I've woken. When Astris returns with the clothing, and after shouting after the ashen women, I find my creaky and dry voice to ask "What happened?" My head is pounding, and I reach for it first, before recalling that gaping wound that surely should have ended my short life. To find the flesh knitted is... surprising, to say the least. I think back to the moment when one of the women had shouted at me. Telling me not to panic, because I was going to be burned.
That moment in recollection was terrifying. Not quite so in the moment. This was likely due to the dying-fugue that I had been brought to. My head still feels supremely light, and attempting to sit was, possibly, the worst mistake I'd ever made. The pain in the proud flesh on my chest heaves the air out of it, and the dizziness that the action brought on was startling. I lay back on the couch, cracking my head loudly against the arm while still not registering that particular pain.
I determine that not moving is the best course of action from hereon. Forever. The rest of my life, certainly, but there may be an eternity of not moving thereafter. Life is pain. Ouch.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 16:03:03 GMT -5
Astris settles beside Ikram again. "Stop moving around. You're not entirely put together again."
She puts her hands on his bare chest, now drying with blood. She looks over her shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, ensuring the strangers are still busy and focuses again, attempting to pour energy into the act of healing.
Skill/Spell Name: Mend Type:Spell Active Description: A flush of healing Effect: Heal self or other for 50 HP Cost:35 MP Applicable Knowledge Schools: Thaumaturgy/Healing
MP: 103/175
The drain is a little more expected this time. The sensation is warm, almost hot under her hands, but slowly she can feel his body respond, closing more internal wounding.
She stops and checks over handiwork, then cleans the blood off his skin. "They'd said something about bandits." She says, looking at him, as she starts tearing a sheet and bandaging his closed wound.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 16:27:30 GMT -5
HP: 155/300 The pain in my chest begins dissolving into a dissociated warmth that seems to spread. I reach up to gently clasp my hand around one of Astris' wrists. "Yes. That's... what the men were." I say flatly. I'm blooded... and bloodied. "It was a short fight." I add, watching her gentle and soft hands become dirtied with drying and spent blood. "They were looking for trouble. I wasn't." Watching her work struck me with an awful fascination. Her hands worked and her brow knit in concentration while my chest was mend from the inside out. She cared not for the detritus and dirt of her work for which I felt guilt.
As always, I found her beautiful. It was something I tried to tell her often. In the moment, watching her hands, I recognize that I could have, and most likely should have perished. Some stroke of luck or fate (or perchance a pair of Half-Drokagr with greater capability to find things than I had) kept me alive. Not only that, but brought me to the caring and even healing hands of my new wife. I sought for words for the moment, knowing that I could seek for a long time before a few struck me almost blindly.
I look up and try to meet Astris' blue eyes. Those that I had admired. "I love you." I said, knowing that I could have and should have said that much sooner than I actually had. We'd been married for months, and only ever got along. I couldn't put it off any longer.
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Post by Fyrra Na'Limndra on Mar 1, 2016 17:16:26 GMT -5
-"Did you see if the man was doing alright?"-
Fyrra asked Merrake when she returned. The Kalimbra was laying in the yard propped up on her elbows. Her eyes focused on the sky and stars above. She had finished with their clithes, effectively giving up on getting the stains out.
-"I couldn't tell, Kalimbra Na'Limndra. I delivered the bucket. That was all."-
The woman reappeared and said something as Merrake reached Fyrra, stI'll standing. The warrior had.more or less ignored the woman before, grunting in answer to whatever she had said. The language barrier between her and the others was insurmountable at the moment. She cared not. It was not what she was there for.
-"They have clothes for us. Lets get dressed and be social."-
-"Of course, Kalimbra."-
The two half-Drokagr went into the kitchen and began to dress. Fyrra choosing a skirt and blouse, continuing to forgo shoes. Merrake dressed in the man's clothes, shirt and doublet with matching breeches and finishing by pulling her own boots on. Fyrra led Merrake into the room where they had left Ikram and the woman.
"Thank you for the fresh clothes. Is he doing better?" Fyrra said standing.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 17:42:31 GMT -5
Did her lungs just turn over? She stared at Ikram, wide-eyed for a half of a second before smiling widely and opening her mouth to reply. "I-" She started, then turned looked at the entrance of the two Drokagr ladies who returned from outside.
"I-..I..actually yes, he's doing much better. Your aid helped immensely." She stammers. "I apologize for the lack of hospitality. Do you have anywhere to stay for the night? I would appreciate the chance to show you better. It is the least I can do."
She takes Ikram's hand, squeezing it a bit.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 17:52:54 GMT -5
Positioning myself into a sitting position could be more comfortable than it is. Rather, it should be more comfortable. I use the back of the seat I'm laying across to heft myself into a better vantage. I'm relieved to see that the one who had disrobed was now wearing clothes—even if they were mine. Even if she did fit them better.
Besides that, I didn't even think about covering my chest. I hadn't given a thought, even for a moment, to protecting my wife's secret. Fortunately it was bound, but the blood could still leak after such short time spent in care, however the paleness has retreated from my face significantly.
"I'm doing much better. Thank you both. All three of you, really. This is my wife, Astris, and if you don't have a place to stay we can put you up. We have more rooms than we use." I smile earnestly. The pain in my chest is significantly lessened, although the lightheadedness has persisted obnoxiously. As though it were a topic of gossip, I continue on to ask, "What... happened, exactly? Earlier tonight?"
I would also need to eat something soon, or my stomach threatened to revolt.
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