Healing and Dealing~Showdown sidethread

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir nodded his head and approached the bard slowly, the dull pain starting to creep back to his senses. "My new friend, I would have rather seen him tried and convicted as well, but he controlled our last Caesar like a puppet. I have my fears about his control on our newest one as well. The gods have tried him though and deemed his punishment as death for those he murdered. Pan has delivered me this judgment himself and I will see it through." It was only a slight deviation from the truth, but in the adhiel's mind it could not have been more true.

"I was a bard myself upon Pan's Isle and my native Kislovan, before Pan called me to his side. Our lives can often lead us in ways that we never anticipated, such as our meeting here. Is it too much to hope that you also have some skills in treating a wound? Surely if you have seen them, you must know a bit. We must hurry though before the criminal escapes us once more."

There was more synergy there than the adhiel may have realised. Not only was Rhoddin a bard, but for some odd reason he followed the god K'Tan, native god of Kislovan, Strange days indeed considered the young bard.

As the adhiel spoke, Rhoddin examined his wound. "Aye, I have some experience with treating wounds, a former umm, companion, was quite skilled as a healer.

"Although I suspect having removed the knife, you may not be going anywhere for a while." Rhoddin looked carefully, it seemed the wound was clean, although deep.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Rhoddin. Bard of some degree, and sometimes fighter in the Kings army." It had been a long few months hadn't it!

Vanir silently thanked all the gods for having sent a healer in his time of need. He smiled weakly at the bard and spoke in a kind voice.

"It seems the gods have drawn us together for a purpose. If you can heal the wound enough for me to live, I shall deal with the pain. This man is a monster and a plague upon these lands. Help me bring him to the gods' justice and I'll help you in any way I can. Please do what you can."

Vanir braced himself for the pain, knowing it would not be easy. He prayed for the strength to suffer once more for the greater good. Mostly he prayed to survive long enough to end the threat of Silk forever. The priest waited for Rhoddin to do whatever he chose.

[Rhoddin]

"Come, sit. It will make this easier." Rhoddin guided the adhiel to the side of alley, finding a place he could sit, leaning against the wall. Having seated his soon to be patient, the bard gently removed the material from around the wound to examine it more closely.

"There seems little bleeding, so I summise you haven't severed anything to important. However, when I pull the knife, we need to ensure no air enters your chest, or that alone might kill you.

"Now wait a moment, whilst I see what I have at hand." Searching through his belongings Rhoddin came across his scarf. "Ah, this will do nicely."

The bard tore the scarf in two, the larger piece he fashioned into a sling, knotting the points behind the adhiel's neck, resting his arm in the cradle of the sling. Next he removed his belt, trusting trousers to stay up as he worked. He positioned the belt across the chest of his patient, the balance of the scarf bunched around the knife.

As he worked, he hummed a soft tune, a gentle lullaby he had learned as a child, but rather than just humming, he carefully wove in strands of energy, soothing and adding to the soft tune he hummed. Softly a weave of gentle protecting energy enveloped the adhiel in it's strong but gentle embrace.

Finally Rhoddin smiled at his patient, "This might smart a bit my friend, but that knife" as he spoke, Rhoddin pulled the knife with a single smooth action from the adhiel's shoulder, "must come out."

Even as he withdrew the knife, the young bard pushed the wad of material that had been his scarf across the wound, quickly and firmly pulling his belt tight to add pressure on the wound, whilst holding the flesh either side of the wound together.

"Now we need an apothecary to gather some herbs, Calendula, St. John's wort and Myrrh. Maybe some yarrow wouldn't go astray either." The young man tried to recall the herbs he had seen used on similar injuries previously.

"Can you move, or do you wish to rest a burn or two? I know I'd be resting, that must smart like the very devil itself." Rhoddin waited to see the effect his ministrations had on the injured adhiel. He knew that infection was the real killer now, and he needed to get some sort of disinfectant onto the wound as soon as possible.

[Grey Wolf]

The bad side of pulling the knife out of the wound, especially one as sharp as the dagger in Vanir's shoulder was that it tended to slice the wound wider, no matter how carefully manipulated it was. Rhoddin prepared well, and his swift tug removed the knife without a problem, the bloody stain upon the priest's shirt spreading much more rapidly now. Pain exploded in [b]Vanir's shoulder, making him gasp for breath, as the bard quickly staunched the bleeding and tightened the belt over the wound, the remains of his scarf slowly turning red as well. It would hold for a while, but proper bandage and permanent way to press the cloth to the wound would be needed. Burning it with heated iron, or sewing the skin shut would work as well, though the latter would probably not be so wise as blood would gather under the stitching and likely clot under the skin.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir bit into his lip as the knife was pulled out. He could taste the blood in his mouth, a bitter iron taste that could only be blood. The pain was intense, yet the adhiel would not allow himself to scream, no more than he did in the dungeons. It was no easy task to ignore such pain, yet the thought of killing Silk, making him suffer even worse than this, helped dull the pain a bit. He slowed his breathing, tried to slow his racing heart and control the throbbing pain from his wound.

"Rest would be wonderful, but I can ill afford it at this time. The monster grows further ahead and we must catch up. Do what you can for my wound as quickly as you can. It will have to wait to be treated properly. I trust your work, friend, but we must hurry."

[Rhoddin]

Rhoddin surveyed the wound and it's temporary bandage.

"My friend, I suspect you have little choice, either we have that wound stitched or cauterized, either way you ain't going far in your current state. Your god might have the pleasure of company all too soon."

Taking a flicker, Rhoddin leant down to offer the adhiel assistance to stand. "Come, we must find a more competent healer, before I'm left to search for a funeral parlour."

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir gripped the handle of his knife tighter and dark look in his eyes. The dark, hateful eyes stared down the alley, looking for any signs of action. "I swore a blood oath to Pan, his Blood. If we don't kill him now, he might kill us all on the morrow. This monster has wedged himself into a position of power, deeply entwined within these Isles. He is a disease upon our people and we must remove him. This is our only chance to catch him off guard. I must risk it in order to put him away."

The priest turned his deep blue eyes onto Rhoddin, showing a deep mix of fear, hatred, and fulfillment. "Help me, Rhoddin. I will seek a healer as soon as we catch him, but I must finish this."

[Rhoddin]

The young bard looked at his patient, weighing up the options at hand.

"Very well, I'm not sure what I can do, but I'll do what I can. Sit still now whilst I prepare."

The bard took the knife he had just removed from the adhiel's shoulder. Bresthing slowly, the young bard slipped into the familiar state of semi trance as he crossed over the boundary between real and ethereal.

Slowly he wove strands of energy, creating a single strand of power. then he spoke to the knife of all things, "HEAT".

Holdng the knife, Rhoddin waited to ensure the effects, hoping to produce a hot knife to cauterise the wound of the adhiel's shoulder.[/code]

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir gripped his own knife tightly, covered in the blood of the bodyguard he just killed. He knew he had crossed a line in his life, but it was commanded of him by Pan. The pain was throbbing in his shoulder, getting worse as he tried to push it out once more. The priest was unsure of what Rhoddin was planning, hoping it would work so he could chase down Silk.

Pan, hear my prayers and help your faithful servant. Let the blood on my knife strengthen your word. Blood has been spilled so the innocent may be protected. I ask only that you guide me towards the monster, Silk. Help this bard heal my wounds so that I may complete your works. Let your Blood strengthen me while I present them to you. The blood spilled here is in your Name. Guide me in your will.

[Grey Wolf]

What Rhoddin tried to do was unorthodox in the least, and may have caused a chuckle in the educated circles that have not actually used Baric Voice themselves, but energy he wove into a strand needed a focus and his voice provided that very thing. Though his hand was protected by the leather of knife's handle, he felt the heat of the steel blade rise instantly, within flickers the tip turning deep red. Then came the time to inflict pain as the hot knife sank into Vanir's flesh just like a hot knife slipped into butter.

Had it not been for the power of Pan flowing through his veins, the young priest would most likely have fainted, but as his vision blurred he felt a surge of energy and endured the burning pain. His flesh sizzled and a stench of burning meat rose in the air, but the bleeding stopped that very instant, the wound certain to leave him with a nasty scar. He could fight and he would not bleed to death. Now he just needed to find Silk in the labyrinthine alleys of Citadel and slay him in combat.

OOC: This thread is no longer impassable. Feel free to push on and beware of the danger lurking ahead.

[Vanir Alfheim]

Vanir wanted to scream, yet he would not allow himself to give over easily. He bit into his lips again and tasted blood once more. It was still a better choice to gving into the searing pain. The priest's mind was fogged over by the pain and rapid changes of the day.

Another scar to remember why I do this. One more mark as penance for letting you get this far, Silk. The pain will be worth it when I remove your lying tongue with my knife, when I look into your cold eyes as they fade away to nothing. Thank you, Pan, for the strength you have given and may your will be done by my blade.

Vanir looked up at Rhoddin with weak eyes. The soft voice was filled with pain and determination. "Thank you, my friend. If we both live through this day, remind me to ask what you just did. However for now, I have someone to kill. Are you still with me on this?" The weak, teary eyes were silently pleading with the bard.

[Rhoddin]

As the adhiel looked at Rhoddin, the young bard nodded his head. "Aye, I guess having stopped you from bleeding to death, I'd better try and make sure you don't manage to get yourself killed some other way."

Rhoddin stretched his hand out, offering the wounded adhiel assistance to rise.

As he did so, Rhoddin looked down the alley, seeking the direction the others had just followed.

[Grey Wolf]

The streets were still pretty much deserted, the civilians having fled the scene and from somewhere down the street a whistle could be heard, signaling the arrival of City Guard on the scene. All Rhoddin and Vanir could do was go down the alley Manyana took, and hope to catch the short scout, though after the first turn they were forced to follow the thin trail of blood she left in her wake. It was barely a hundred paces away from their starting point that the men found the barefoot scout. She was propped against the alley wall, clutching her side a pair f dark clad thugs laying not far away, dead and unmoving. A pool of blood around the wounded scout looked almost impossibly big, as there was no way such a short woman could have had that much blood in her, but it kept on spreading even as they came closer. Her eyes darted to the approaching pair, as Manyana tried and failed to get up, peering towards them and wheezing for breath. In her right hand she clutched the bloody sword, her skin unnaturally pale.

[Rhoddin]

As the two approached the injured scout Rhoddin managed a low groan and a shudder. Damn, I hadn't planned to be a healer. Would've paid more attention to what Shaeliana used to prattle on about if I had wanted to do this stuff. Still, looks like she's in trouble.

Bending slowly, hand out indicating he meant no harm, the young bard spoke gently to injured woman. "Just a minute there. Before you try and stick me too, let me see if I do something to stop you dieing right here and now."

It was pretty clear that without immediate attention, the scout was a goner, maybe even with attention. Speaking across his shoulder to the adhiel, Rhoddin continued. "I'm not sure I'll be chasing Silk down with immediately. It seems the gods have thrown another injured warrior in my path.

"I must see what I can do for this one, as she seems to be on the same side as you, and apparently me as well now.

"If you must chase off after Silk by yourself, try not to have that wound opened up again, I'm not sure I could manage that trick with the knife again."

And Rhoddin turned his full attention to the woman lying dieing on the ground just in front of him.

[Grey Wolf]

OOC: Trying to push this forward a bit, so we can wrap it up.

The woman blinked furiously, trying to clear her sight, as even up close she had trouble seeing things clearly. Manyana was dying and she knew it, and lamented her blood-thirst and vengefulness, as they drove her to run after Silk without support and run into his men repeatedly. If only that arrow went where it was supposed to hit. She did not recognize the voice, but the sword in her hand went down, the woman’s muscles still tense, effort draining away what little strength she still had, but unwilling to let anyone kill her just yet. She could still strike and any of Silk’s bastards that came close to her was going to see just how dangerous Manyana was.

It was the lack of recognition that saved Rhoddin’s life, the female warrior lowering her sword and taking a wheezing breath, as the bard had to trod through the sticky pool of blood still spreading around her to reach his newest patient. The woman was all but covered in wounds, and though most of those were just flesh wounds, they kept bleeding and if he did not staunch the blood flowing from them soon she would bleed to death real fast. All those wounds were of secondary concern compared to the one in her back, a dagger still stuck in the woman’s flesh, buried deep in the small of her back. Her fingers pressed upon it, the angle at which the blade entered making it difficult for her to pull the blade out without hurting herself more. Blood kept flowing from around the blade, bright red, coating her fingers. The air itself was filled with a slightly metallic scent, the fresh blood sprayed over the walls and painting the cobbles crimson, the woman staring into Rhoddin’s eyes with grim determination. “Who the Nether are you?”

[Rhoddin]

ooc : sounds like a plan to me!

The young bard looked intently at the woman before him, the sight of another knife wound brought a flicker of annoyance to his mind. As she spoke to him, the young man did manage a wry smile. "Me? Why my name is Rhoddin, and I had thought I was a bard, but it appears that today I seem more of a healer than anything else."

Rhoddin waited a flicker, looking at the wounds of the woman carefully. It did appear that the major problem was the knife stuck in her, although the other wounds were certainly not helping matters much.

Speaking again, but keeping his voice as calm and reasonable as he could, Rhoddin knelt before the wounded scout. "I have patched up one person today, and if you are prepared to trust me, I'll try and do the same for you. No promises mind, I'm only a real novice at this sort of thing. More a few tips I've picked up from some more proficient in the arts of healing than myself."

Cocking his head to one side, Rhoddin managed another wry smile. "Anyways, it seems to me, either I have a go at staunching your bleeding, or you simply lie here and bleed out, pretty soon I'd imagine as well. So what say you, do I help, or do you simply bleed to death here and now?"

Curse my luck, here am I looking for a quiet life, and what do I stumble into, a bloody slaughterhouse. Had enough of this on Aveas. Damn it all to the seven hells.

[Grey Wolf]

Manyana's response to Rhoddin's words was a humorless smile, followed a flicker later by a derisive snort, though she regretted doing that as soon as it left her lips, the woman letting out a pained cry as seemingly every muscle in her body tensed. It was a few flickers llater that she began to relax, exhaling slowly through clenched teeth, the wound in her back obviously causing her great pain. "Darling, if you do not pull out that dagger out I am going to die. It is likely I will even if you pull it. Bastards...... Bastards knew what they were doing, though they died anyhow." With a wince and some difficulty she did as best as she could to turn, losing what little strength she had and crumpling down, to lay in the pool of blood, though eyes regained focus and looked at Rhoddin. "I can't help you. My side is numb. Let's get it done with." Taking another deep breath Scoutmaster closed her eyes and willed her muscles to relax, the blade shifting almost imperceptibly as the tension that held it was removed.

[Rhoddin]

Rhoddin watched as the Scout rolled over, taking particular note of the angle that the knife was in her back. Encouraged by his previous experience in removing knives (albeit he was about to double that experience), the young bard gathered his thoughts.

Again, he knew he needed to staunch the inevitable bleeding after the removal of the knife, so he again looked to his now significantly reduced linen scarf. At least the adheil could help him with this task. "Here, take this," he handed across the wadded mass of the scarf.

"Once I pull the knife, hold this firmly on the wound. I'll try and cauterize it once the knifes out, but I don't want her bleeding to death first.

"Now are you ready?" Rhoddin looked at his companion, assuming his compliance.

Kneeling beside the fallen woman, whilst leaving room for his assistant, Rhoddin took a firm grip on the knife, placing one hand on the Scouts back to brace it, before pulling the knife in as smooth an action as possible, concentrating on following the same angle coming out as the knife entered her back.

As he worked, Rhoddin hummed the same song he had previously, something soft and comforting, imbuing as much comfort and safety as he could into the tune that the Scout would be hearing.

Relax lady, this will only hurt for a moment, then we'll see if we can stop some bleeding for you.

And it was done ...

[Grey Wolf]

OOC: I need to push the story further and I do not wish to assume PC actions. Thus the following outcome.

Steady hand and gentle touch could only go so far, both men lacking the kill at treating serious wounds and one Manyana had suffered was definitely serious and as it proved also lethal. The knife slid out of her back, the bright red blood darkening instantly, the scarf stained with something almost black. For a flicker her body froze, the pain paralyzing the short woman, her eyes glazing over as he head lolled to the ground. Her chest was still, and for a flicker it looked as if she had left the world, but then suddenly, Manyana pulled a ragged breath, her head rising, teeth gritted. Reaching for the lapel of Rhoddin’s shirt, she gripped it desperately, looking into the bard’s eyes with overwhelming intensity. “Anochrim….. Poisoned….. Thufu feather…… Barrett knows….. Killer missed ear…..Left……. Barrett……” Slowly her grip grew less secure, eyes becoming glassy and with a final exhale the short, ugly woman fell down into the pool of her own blood, never to rise again.

[Rhoddin]

As the scout grabbed at Rhoddin's cloak, the young man listened to her final utterances. Not that they made much sense to him, being new to the Citadel, but they were obviously important to the now dead woman.

Sighing softly, the bard gently laid the woman on the ground, it seemed such a waste, waste he had seen all to often of late.

"Damn, thought we might have saved her there for a moment, still at least we tried.

"I'm sorry my friend, but I'm in no mood to chase down another, simply to try and stick a knife in them. If you ,must pursue Silk, then I'm afraid you must pursue him alone." As he finished speaking to the Adheil, Rhoddin shook his head sadly.

I wonder who Barrett might be, and what in the seven hells is Thufu feather, is that the poison? Well I'll be stuffed. I need a rest!

Rhoddin considered his predicament, and thought a tavern and a bed sounded excellent about now. But which tavern would it be ...

ooc: edited in line with GW's post

[Grey Wolf]

Whilst Barrett was not so well known, many men and women heard of late Caesar Anochrim, former ruler of the Empire of Seven Isles and a member of Party of Light, famed group of adventurers that saved the world from demons in The Great Battle. No self respecting bard would allow himself to not know such a man and a bard of Rhoddin’s skill likely knew several songs in which he featured. Men like Duke Erwin, Silk the Blender, Manyana or Sosa were known world around and Vanir and Rhoddin had just witnessed an event that would change the future. What they would do about it was up to the pair.

OOC: Feel free to post a summary of what you do before leaving. Unless you linger too long, you will be free to leave without much hassle.

[Rhoddin]

The young bard carefully laid the slain scout on the ground, and after speaking with his companion decided her final comments needed further investigation.

Weighing the consequences of next action the bard decided that as the woman was dead, she wouldn't mind if he checked whether she carried anything of importance. So with as much respect as he could, Rhoddin frisked here person, maybe a clue to Barrett, or the recently departed Caesar would come to light.

Having completed the said search, rhoddin sat on his hunches for a moment. He felt strange about leaving the woman's body here, but where was he, a stranger in this town, to take her? And more to the point, what was he too say where he got her there. Far better to leave and leave the cleaning up too the local authorities. Anyway, she was dead now, Rhoddin doubted she cared anymore about this empty husk of a body.

The young bard bowed his head, and offered a short prayer to his god, and whichever god the scout followed, before retrieving any useful bits he may have discovered, or dropped himself, and silently moving on in a different direction.

Moving slowly, he pulled the cowl of his cloak up, quite effectively concealing his face, and feigning a limp he didn't actually have, he shuffled off, keeping a bent silhouette to conceal his true height.

[Vanir Alfheim]

ooc- Sorry, I dropped off, buddy, but I should be back now.

ic- Vanir felt a twinge of sorrow as he watched the scout pass away. He needed valuable allies and she could have provided him one. It seemed he was no closer to Silk than he had been before the day started. The pain in shoulder was flaring and the moment was lost to him, yet the war was far from over. The last breath of Manyana had provided him with the oldest ally, information. Silk had murdered the Caesar and soon he would prove it.

The priest moved closer to Rhoddin and spoke softly. "She is gone, but her work is not. Barrett is a priest and a friend, hopefully he knows of what she spoke. I will send word for him to meet us at the Temple. However we must go before we are seen here. Let us depart to the Temple until we can decide our next move." Vanir looked at his new friend. "Are you still with me?"

[Grey Wolf]

It was perhaps surprising, but the examination of Manyana's body revealed little useful, both in terms of items and information. She had little time to get ready for the ambush and thus wore only a hastily assembled outfit, topped by a worn leather armor and a simple sword that still lay in a pull of blood. She even did not have a single coin upon her body. With their search done the pair departed before the guards came.

[Rhoddin]

Having completed his quick, but courteous search, Rhoddin nodded at his companions comments.

"Aye a temple seems a good place to start. And maybe they can fix that arm of yours better than an amateur such as myself.

"Come let us be away, you'd best lead, I'm sort of pretty new around here."

And the young bard moved away, with but a short glance at the deceased scout.

[Morg]

Skilled by a high-ranking monk.

Rhoddin
New skill: Healing (Non-Magical) ~ Basic+*

Vanir
Inner Calm +* (to Journeyman)