Fortuitous Timing - Jygust 30, mid TT (Traj, Shy, & Crag

[Craghley]

Maybe, if he had been back in the Citadel, maybe even Dort, there would be a magical remedy readily available. Perhaps not, though. There was something which suggested the poison which still ran through Craghley's veins was not the product of any simple spider. Something had spawned them and until that something had been 'fixed', he would be plagued from time to time by the effects of the venom. But surely there was a healer around who could find a way to lessen the effects. There were times coming during which he was sure it would be disastrous to collapse from nausea. Now, with word spreading about a new healer, he thought he should see if this Ms. Boyd could lend him help. If he knew who had taken him in on that Day of Darkness he would have sought them out, but a few barely remembered words were not much to go on, and the Leafs he had spoken to could not recall any more than he. He could not blame them.

The directions Craghley had previously obtained from his friendly drinking fellows suggesed that Ms Boyd's shop was located somewhere nearby Kaelara Mentahn's. At least he could recall where that was located, and the ensuing search gave him time to think. Being bed-ridden, he had not seen Ulder for some time, and had yet to speak to him about the hunt they had gone on. He would have spoken to Thrandil by now but, sadly, he was gone. Craghley had much work to do here before he could follow the Adhiel to Taquar, however much he wanted to go to the land right now.
And there it was (he thought). If it weren't for the sign Craghley would have missed it entirely; the building did not advertise itself the way it was connected modestly with its' neighbours. Surrounded by the image of herbs and someone in a healer's green tabbard, 'Healing Hands' was written in brilliant golden letters upon it.

Craghley peered sceptically at the shop and sign, idly throwing his pipe up in the air with a spin and catching it again.

[Trajan Constantine Aeneas]

“It has been a busy day already.” Trajan mused as he headed back toward Healing Hands after his meeting with Ulder. “But not going to slow down anytime soon.” He reminded himself as he re-entered the city, noting the preparations which were ongoing for the upcoming Summer Festival. “After all, I still have to find this achadheil named Donovan that the spirit mentioned and then of course, the start of the summer festival means the summer solstice. Which means Laewin.” As always happened when he thought of the little girl, if little girl she was, a whole slew of emotions washed over him. Anger at the lives that had been lost to her, disappointment at himself for being so easily tricked by her on their first meeting, and frustration at his inability to fulfill the geas laid upon him by the ghost of the dead legionnaire. But he had been given a vision, granted insight into her that would see her ended. Who or whatever that little girl in his vision had been, he thanked her wholeheartedly.

The day was warm and bright, and seemed full of promise, and Trajan had to admit that it managed to reach even him, if only a little, and his conversation with Ulder had a lot to do with it. He had gone out seeking the founder of the Swordmark with a heavy heart and a sense of dark foreboding, but upon speaking with the man, he felt much reassured. Knowing what was afoot was immensely preferable to being in the dark, even if the specifics were still unknown. Ulder had however said ‘soon’ and Trajan knew the man not to be one to dawdle once a course was set upon, which lead him to surmise that the plan could and likely would, be implemented over the course of the summer festival. Which meant that he had to add contacting Sasradil and Hubert to his list of things to accomplish, as well as Talanwei if his friend could be found and would come, so that Shylah and her apprentices could be maximally defended. For while Ulder assumed the coup would go off bloodlessly, Trajan wasn’t so sure and wanted the healers sheltered, and since he had another duty to discharge, it feel to his trainees and his friend. Trajan was still attempting to plot out the rest of the day and what needed doing when he entered the square which Healing Hands bordered and saw a strange achadheil standing before it, tossing something casually into the air before catching it and tossing it again.

Trajan stopped and leant against another building for a few burns, watching the man intently. He was cautious of strangers, but not openly distrustful. Besides which fact, as far as he could tell the man was not even armed, so the former legionnaire left his targ slung across his back, even though it pinned his sword scabbard awkwardly. He could still clear the blade easily enough, but he would be hard pressed to retrieve the shield if the need arose suddenly, but in this situation, he felt comfortable with what he had. The achadheil lad appeared to be approximately his age, give or take a yahren either way, though a little shorter and somewhat slighter. Even so he had wide strong shoulders and seemed fit enough, and a slight turn of the fellows head gave his observer a glimpse of strong features. Trajan recognized that the man could be trouble if it came to a fight, but didn’t expect it to. Having taken stock of the new arrival, Trajan pushed away from the wall and crossed the square, angling to come alongside the fellow with about an arms length clearance so as not to startle or alarm him. When he drew almost abreast he hailed the man.

“Greetings and good Tradetide.” He said as he came alongside, “And welcome to Healing Hands," he made a sweeping gesture with one arm to indicate the building and crossed the other over his stomach as he offered the achadheil a short bow, "what can we do for you?”

[Craghley]

It was true that Craghley preferred not to carry his sword or spear with him most times he was in town. His two daggers, on the other hand, had the benefit of being useful tools and were almost always on his person - one strapped onto his belt and the other tucked slyly within his boot. Even so that was mostly a habitual thing. The most use he had found for his daggers consisted of picking dirt from underneath his fingernails.

"Guid tradetide, sir" Craghley replied with a courtesy bow of his own. His hand came up, depositing the empty pipe between those pearly whites of his and he looked Trajan up and down. The man before him seemed familiar, which wasn't surprising. Craghley had wandered Pax long and often, seeing the faces of a great many occupants. This man was tall, strong - noticeably more so than Craghley, and he smiled at the tiny feeling of intimidation that was aroused. For it seemed he was a healer. Certainly not Ms. Boyd, but he did imply he worked at the Healing Hands.
Oh, and he looked serious. More serious than a person of his age, Craghley's age as far as he could tell, ought to be. More than likely he was or had been a warrior and there were many grim jobs for a warrior around here these days, Craghley mused.

"Ai guess we'll see. On that day of Darkness ane o those spiders latched ontae me. Been a wee bit sickly ever since. 'Twas wondering if ye might hae something what'll work against these fits Ai get noo an then."

"Och, should ye be wanting tae call me anything, my name's Craghley. Kinsman o Clan Donovan."

[Trajan Constantine Aeneas]

“Och, should ye be wanting tae call me anything, my names Craghley. Kinsman o clan Donovan.” Trajan heard those words, but no longer saw Craghley, or the telling pipe the man had clenched between his teeth, neither did he here anything the man might have happened to say beside. Instead he saw again the girl from his vision, and heard again her words.

“She should not be here,” the little girl had said in his dream, “Or, rather they should no be here. You must use the sword. The achadheil might assist you, for he has seen into her, he knows something of her true nature.” Trajan shook himself from his revelry to see Craghley still standing before him, grinning around the stem of his pipe and waiting. Trajan realized that it must have been only a few flickers he was lost to memory, but it felt like marks had passed.

“Craghley.” He repeated. “Of Clan Donovan. Nice to make your acquaintance sir. My name is Trajan Aeneas, but you may call me Trajan.” He turned from the man then and crossed the short distance between himself and the door, opening it broadly. “Please, Craghley, if I may address you so, come inside, and we shall see what we shall see about your... fits, as you described them.” Trajan waited for the achadneil to pass him before he followed the man inside the shop and closed the door behind him, wondering what providence it was that had brought the very man he had intended to seek to his doorstep in such a timely fashion.

“Who are you? He asked, picturing the little girl in his mind once again, in as minute detail as he could recall. “Who are you?

“Shylah!” He called, not loudly for Healing Hands was not so large that it was hard to hear even if the parties conversing were in separate areas. “We have a patient.” Trajan then moved to the fireplace and checked the kettle, before putting it back over the flames to heat.

“Tea?” He asked Craghley as the kettle began to boil and while the pair waited on Shylah.

[Shylah Boyd]

Shylah was in her private chambers when she heard Trajan's voice calling for her.
For nearly a mark, she had immersed herself deep in prayer, at her beside. For the months that passed without so much as a letter back, the young woman found herself terribly worried about her family. It just wasn't like them to ignore her. Especially, when they were the ones who sent Shylah to Healer's School, she imagined that they would want to know how she was fairing with her own shop. She knew that the thought alone would make them proud, but now she wasn't quite sure. Finishing up with a, 'please let me know something...', Shylah finished her prayer to Dominicus, stood up and made her way out of her room.

Before she rounded the corner that would take her into the waiting area, Shylah pushed all of her personal thoughts from her mind, and focused in on this new patient she was about to meet. With a warm smile, the small woman looked at Trajan and then to her new patient. Strolling over to the achadhiel man, Shylah outstretched a slender hand, “Hello, I am Shylah. How may I be of assistance?”

[Craghley]

There was something very odd in the way Trajan accepted Craghley's name - for a flicker, as though his eyes were focusing on something else, and the expression on his face transfixed. Perhaps. Before Craghley could ask if the man whether he felt alright though, Trajan had introduced himself and opened the door for the Achadhiel. He slipped past the broad man with a nod and, once inside, busied himself with examining the bunches of herbs and jars dispersed about the room. The pipe slipped back inside of his sporran and the herbs he attempted to identify by smell, which he could do so for the more basic specimens, but the edge of lavender on the air was a little distracting to this task. Otherwise though, it was quite pleasing.

“Tea?” He asked Craghley as the kettle began to boil and while the pair waited on Shylah.

"Aye, please - milk, nae sugar," Craghley replied. After some hesitation, he decided to leave that strange matter outside in favour of a more polite line of conversation.

"Ai ken that Ms Boyd owns Healing Hands... hae ye known her long?"


He saw Shylah before hearing her; the slight woman walked on in to the front room confidentially with a welcoming smile. This he returned as he took her hand and shook it. He'd seen nobles kiss the proferred hand of a lady, but he doubted that was appropriate here - besides which, something about the big man by the kettle made him think twice about that.

"Nice tae meet ye, Ai'm Craghley Donovan. Fell sickly about twa months ago frae those spidery beasts. Still get bouts o sickness, usually when Ai exert meself. Then Ai heard just recently ye were a canny healer an could pro'ly help me out."

[Shylah Boyd]

Shylah listened to Craghley inventively as she observed his body language. Watching one’s body language, especially when dealing with poison, was very important. Her thoughts reflected back to the Day of Darkness, and she immediately sympathized with the man. That was a day Shylah wished to never live again.

“You have come to the right place, Mr. Donovan, “Shylah replied with a warm smile, “I will see what I can do for you.”

“Please,” she continued in a professional, yet polite tone, “Follow me. I have more supplies and proper equipment in the exam room. I can see that Trajan is making you some tea?”

Turning on her heel, Shylah started for the exam room and waited at the hall for Craghley to follow, and waved a graceful hand towards the green curtain that led into the exam room. “Please, proceed through the curtain and make yourself comfortable. I will be right along.”

If Craghley would follow Shylah’s directions, she would then look to Trajan with a happy grin, “I haven’t told you enough how grateful I am for all you have done for Healing Hands, and for myself. Thank you.”

[Trajan Constantine Aeneas]

Trajan busied himself making final preparations on the tea, something he had never drank before he met and was taken in by Shylah, but which he known enjoyed freely and several times a day. Craghley had requested milk, with no sugar, which was an odd request, but one that Trajan complied with even while he was making his own, heavily flavored with lemon but naught else. He had just finished and was preparing to inform Craghley, who was going around the shop sniffing various bundles of herbs inquisitively, that the tea was ready, when he asked about Trajan and Shylahs relationship.

“Not long to be honest.” Trajan replied as he offered the achadheil the cup of tea he had prepared for him. “Only since Chyril, when she saved my life.” It was not long after this, that Shylah arrived. She smiled at Trajan briefly before approaching Craghley with a hand outstretched in greeting. The two exchanged pleasantries and then the patient explained to the healer what he needed. Shylah directed him to the exam room with a warm grin and calm, soothing but direct words. After he disappeared behind the curtain, she turned back to Trajan with a wide, contented grin on her face. Trajan felt a slight grin tugging at his own lips and his heart rose within his chest.

“I haven’t told you enough how grateful I am for all you have done for Healing Hands, and for myself. Thank you.” Trajan felt that increasingly familiar tugging at his lips, but he waited for a few flickers and even took a drink of tea before replying.

“What I do for this shop,” he said slowly, and quietly so that Craghley would be unable to hear, even if he were inclined to eavesdrop, “I do out of gratitude for the life you allowed me to keep.” Trajan then set his cup aside and crossed to where Shylah stood, his eyes locked on hers the entire time. “And those things I do for you,” he continued, as he trailed the back of his fingers down one cheek, “I do because it was you who gave me something to continue living for.” He then brought both his hands up to cradle the diminutive achadheils head before he finished, “And for that favor, there is nothing I can do which is enough.” The kiss he then favored her with was short, and bitter sweet with longing and sadness and hope and passion. But it lasted scarcely two consecutive flickers before the towering former legionnaire was back at the hearth, enjoying another drink of tea.

“You should see about Craghley.” He said, loudly enough for the man in question to hear if he were listening, and he then added, mostly to himself, “I feel I may need him soon.”

[Craghley]

Craghley accepted the cup thankfully, blowing tendrils of steam across the surface in a futile attempt to cool it some. Sipping the drink, and appreciating the different flavour to what he had drunk before, he nodded along to Trajan's words. Late Chyril... the time he and the others had arrived in Pax. But he probably meant the Day of Darkness to be precise.
Not that he had time to verify that before Shylah Boyd had arrived. Since she ushered him over to the examination room he had no desire to waste her time; facing Trajan he said "Cheers for the cuppa," and ducked behind the green curtain. Trajan and Shylah's subsequent few words were unheard by Craghley, and in all likelihood still would have been even had he tried to eavesdrop.

Craghley did not take a seat but inspected the room: two cots, shelves, medical supplies. In addition to the stuff Shylah had out front it appeared the woman was well stocked, always a good sign. And she was competent enough to save lives. All good signs, Craghley relaxed somewhat and sipped his tea, curious as to how Ms Boyd would go about with her examination.

[Shylah Boyd]

As Trajan crossed back over to the other side of the room, Shylah could not hide the fact that she was blushing profusely. Infact, her cheeks were almost as red as her hair. What had just happened was so unexpected, that the small woman lost her train of thought for a few flickers.

At a loss for words and the thought of Craghley patiently awaiting her in the next room, Shylah turned and started for the exam room. She hadn’t expected Trajan to kiss her, and the more she thought about it, the more her lips burned. Shylah had never been kissed before.

Pushing back the curtain, the achadhiel woman entered the exam room as all thoughts of Trajan reluctantly left her mind. Slowly, the bright shade of red that had formed upon her cheeks only mere flickers ago, now turned to a light shade of pink. Her main focus was her patient. Beaming, Shylah waved a hand towards the exam table politely, “Please, have a seat and we can begin the exam.”

If Craghley would oblige, then Shylah would stand nearby on his right, closest to the shelf. With concern in her gaze, Shylah asked, “Now, have you been experiencing any pains associated with the sickly feeling? If so, it would be important for me to know where.”

[Craghley]

Accepting Shylah's directive to be seated, Craghley settled down upon the table. He took another draught of tea while thinking of the exact symptoms he experienced.

"Nae... well, nae more. It's just been sickness over the last month."

Craghley removed his jerkin, setting it down beside him and lifted up the linen shirt enough to show an angry scar which appeared to have scraped his left side just above the pelvis.

"Use tae smart like bastart, an the venom made it worse. Now it's a wee bit tender but doesn't hurt any, not even during the attacks. They mostly come about after hard work, but I dinnae feel tae guid in the mornings either."

[Shylah Boyd]

Shylah’s gray eyes widened when she saw the scar upon Craghley’s flesh, and shook her head, “That is some scar. Of course, that will be our focal point, since that was obviously where the venom entered you body.”

Reflecting back to that horrible day, Shylah shuddered as she took a step closer to her supply shelf, “I suggest keeping an eye on that scar. If there are any changes in its appearance, I want to see you immediately. I don't care what time of day or night it is.”

Her eyes scanned the shelves for three items. Although, after a few flickers, she started looking for just two, as she remembered the last of the Echinacea was lost in trying to help the small achadhiel child from earlier that day. Luckily, Shylah didn’t absolutely need that potion. She liked to have her patients use it just as an extra precaution. Knowing that she could acquire more tomorrow, she grabbed two vials and turned back to Craghley.

“You sir, are lucky to have survived this long. Many have perished by those creatures’ venom.”

With a warm smile, she held out the two vials for Craghley to take.
“The green potion is Mirre. It will help with any internal infections you may have due to the poisoning. It is very strong, so I suggest you take it twice a day with a meal. There is enough in there to last one week.”

“The yellow potion is Arnica. This is a commonly used antidote for poisoning. Like the Mirre, it is very strong. However, due to the length of time you have been poisoned, I’d like for you to take it three times a day. There is enough in here to last four days,” she explained with a warm smile, “Return to me once you have finished the Arnica, and I will see about getting you a second vial depending on the progress you make.”

“Do you have any questions?” Shylah asked politely as she brushed away a stray piece of hair from her face.

[Craghley]

"My luck is tae be favoured by the Mother - she's saved my life, and more sae than once."

Craghley accepted the two vials - neither one of which he had heard of before. He rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully; were they local herbs, and would he find more in the forest of Pax? He should explore the region around here more. He carefully wrapped the potions in his kerchief for a bit of protection before slipping them into the leather pouch and made a note of the doseages: twice a day with a meal for one week for the Mirre, and three times a day for four days for the Arnica. He doubted that they would help but did not imagine that he knew such a thing. Craghley still had an idea to put forward that Shylah may be able to assist with.

"Thank ye. But, furthermore, I wonder if ye've anything I can tak at the time tae relieve the sickness? It happens under the most inconvenient situations - I'd ask for Dille, but I cannae drink nor eat when I'm sae ill. Dae ye ken anything I could use as, perhaps, an inhalant?"

If she could provide such a thing Craghley would be delighted; he could imagine the nausea bringing him to his knees in a real swordfight, not just in the usual drills and sparring with the Leafs (who mostly outstripped his competency as a swordsman). And he doubted vomiting upon his opponents feet would not invite them to offer mercy.

[Shylah Boyd]

Feeling quite foolish, Shylah wondered how she could have forgotten about the man’s struggle with nausea. With an apologetic expression, Shylah moved back to the shelf and grasped the forgotten bottle of basil herbs. Could the kiss have had something to do with this sudden forgetfulness? Shaking her head, Shylah knew that now wasn't the appropriate time think of such things.

If the man had fits with being ill and could not eat or drink like he said, then basil would surely help with that problem. After she returned to where Craghley sat, Shylah gave him this bottle as well, “If you are unable to eat or drink, I suggest placing some of this basil in with boiling water. Breathing this in shold assist with the nasuea.”

“There is no limit on how many times you are able to do this, but I suggest following up with the Arnica atleast once during the day,” she stated softly, “This may boost the healing process.”

“However,” she continued reassuringly, “If you find that this basil doesn’t help after the second day of trying this, return to me and I will see about trying a different method.”

[Craghley]

The basil was turned over in his hand. Yes... the same plant that he had a few bunched of in his own supply, but somewhat better preserved. He had not known that it fought off nausea - it was one of those herbs that the travelling merchants had peddled, and they'd told him it was good for clearing blockages in the internal organs. Also nice to put in with a cooked meal, apparently, though cooking wasn't his thing.

“There is no limit on how many times you are able to do this, but I suggest following up with the Arnica atleast once during the day,” she stated softly, “This may boost the healing process.”

"Basil, aye? I've ne'er heard that it cures nausea, but I've used it wi some success at clearing clogged bowels. I wonder... I may no hae hot water ready aa the time. Could I get the same result by crushing fresh leaves? An will eating some aforehand help stave off the sickness?"

Craghley finished off the last of the tea and set the cup down beside him on the table. Mixing herbs could be dangerous business, not least when they were considered powerful, but he trusted Shylah in this instance. It caused him to wonder whether some Klis may prove even more beneficial if taken daily... but a mixture of three concoctions a day seemed more than enough to Craghley.

"Dae any o these herbs grow around here locally? See, I'm aften in the forest but hae ne'er looked for them. If they dae, mayhap I could gather some for ye, less that's wha ye dae already."

[Shylah Boyd]

Nodding as Craghley spoke, Shylah smiled warmly, “Basil has worked wonders for my brothers and me growing up. My mother use to combine it with scalding hot water into a bowl, and we were to lean over it with a large cloth over our heads in order to get the full effects of it by breathing it in.”

Feeling a twinge of sadness at the mention of her family, Shylah forced them out of her mind and continued, “You could also try bathing in the mixture. Just make sure the water is at a comfortable temperature for your body. I would soak in the mixture for a quarter of a mark, or whenever the water starts to chill.”

Thinking over his question about chewing the basil, Shylah didn’t think that would be a bad idea, but knew it would take a little longer to feel any relief, “I suppose you could chew on the basil, but it may take a little longer to notice any changes with the nausea. “

“Considering the amount of items I have given you to take, I would advise that you try to get plenty of rest and try not to overwork your body. Being that two of the three are very powerful, I highly recommend pacing yourself,” she advised, as her thoughts turned to his last question. Shylah had seen basil growing out in the forest before, and took it upon herself to retrieve them only a few times before. However, she only did this when her shipments for the product were late.

“If you venture out of the city walls, go out like you are heading towards the Logging Mill,” she started, trying to think of the easiest route, “However, before you even reach the mill, head south, but not too far south. You should be able to spot the basil easily. I go out there from time to time when my stocks are running low and my shipments are late.”

[Craghley]

Craghley smirked at the mention of a bath; he washed, certainly, but was simply doubtful whether that treatment would work in the frigid River Clearwater which he greeted briefly and reluctantly on most mornings.

"I'm saving all me rest up fer when I'm deid," Craghley said without conviction. "But it's no fair tae gi me yer help then I gae an spoil it. I'll try an take it easy," but nae promises. "Thank 'ee fer the directions. I'll see wha I can dae, an if ye e'er want fer supplies come see if I've anything. Spose it depends on how busy ye get round here."

Shylah had come across as a competent healer - at the very least sincere and interested in the profession. And even if the treatment did nothing for him, at least the knowledge she had given would stick. He would certainly have to see how much Vernon knew of the plant life in addition to the beasts of Pax. Well, he had not spent all his coin in Islay. And though the Emerald Guard provided only a modest stipend, the Leafs payed no rent and got most of their food from the surrounding wilderness, so even that was more than enough. Provided the cost of the potions wasn't downright sinful.

"My scar used tae pustulate. That, at least, stopped with lancing and some thousand leaf poultices - if anything changes I'll come round. Now... I dinnae hae any other problems wi me health. Is there anything else ye wish tae ken, or shall I ask how much I owe ye?"

[Shylah Boyd]

“Well, I appreciate your honesty,” Shylah replied with a wink, “and thank you for the kind offer as far as supplies goes. I will definitely keep that in mind.”

“Here, let me grab you something to carry all of that in,” Shylah said in her typical motherly tone, as she crossed over to the supply closet to fetch a small pouch for Craghley to carry his supplies. After a brief flicker, Shylah retrieved a small, wool pouch and closed the door behind her.

“Oh and in regards to payment,” she continued, handing the man the bag as she calculated the price of the items in her head. Considering the price for Mirre and Arnica were very high, she typically waived the exam fee and in this case, waiving the basil for his kind offer. “Two lance. I took away the exam fee and the basil is on the house. Also, with the kind offer with the supplies, charging you anything more would have been impolite on my part.”

[Craghley]

If Shylah was this generous then Craghley was a little surprised she had a profitable business. One lance a potion, and that was it? Surely not; the basil had cost about as much when he'd purchased it. It must be cheaper tae buy in bulk, perhaps, he reckoned, then tucked the goods into the woolen pouch. The feel of the wool momentarily reminded him of the sheep back home on the farm. Then he was putting his leather jerkin back on and standing up from the table.

"Tell ye what," he said. "If ye really need tae, ye can gi me a small refund when I've actually got some supplies for ye." When he got up, a silver circlet sat heavily upon the table just under where his palm had been. "We're camped just behind the barracks, and ye can leave a message wi any o the Leafs if I'm no there - if ye're low on supplies or just need an extra hand, name it."

Not she might need his help; that Trajan fellow looked as dependable as a rock. Short of a second Day of Darkness he doubted whether Shylah would require more assistance.

[Shylah Boyd]

“Thank you, Mr. Donovan,” Shylah smiled graciously, “I will remember your kind offer. After all, I am quite sure that we could both benefit from it.”

She observed Craghley as he placed a silver circlet upon the exam table, and continued, “Please, take care of yourself. Next time I see you, I want to hear of the progress you have been making, hmm?”




ooc: end for me here, unless you feel it is necessary to continue

[Craghley]

"And thanks tae ye. I hope I'll bring guid news next we meet."

Nodding goodbye, Craghley made his exit into the waiting room.



[hr][/hr]OOC: Fin for me, too. Cheers

[Guido Cercatoro]

Locked for archiving and skilling