“You were brought in, Isaac.” Shirtless, the young man was even thinner. Simply put he had little meat on his bones, mostly sinew and slight muscle – just enough to keep everything together and in working order. This was no fighter. Most of the bruising appeared on his left ribcage. The brusing actually looked a bit like a map of Eyropa. Metarie stored away the type, coloration, and location of the bruising for the inevitable report she would have to make. If asked, she would state the assailant appeared to be right handed. Metarie suspected there may have even been two, based on the marks on Isaac's face.
Isaac’s indignant reaction and attempt at humor made her lift her brows. A barely suppressed smile turned up the corners of her lips. “I suppose he does.” She shook her head briefly. “Medical services are covered by the City. There is no charge.”
Metarie had no idea what he meant by grey being her color. “Let’s see to your bruised ribs and face, then we can seek answers. We offer two types of medical services, those using healing magic and those that do not. Do you have a preference?”
Metarie wore a white jacket. The cuffs were folded back, leaving her forearms uncovered. And, as she reached to finish cleaning and treating the cuts and bruises on Isaac’s face, one could see she wore no jewelry. On the inside of her left wrist, though, was a mark – a sigil; although, to the uninitiated it would appear to be an ink tattoo of some kind. Beneath the coat she wore a modestly cut v-necked shirt in a color some might describe as dusty rose. The shirt was neatly tucked into modestly snug earthen brown trousers.
Knowing
Re: Knowing
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Belatucadrus
- Lord
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:25 am
- Name: Belatucadrus
- Race: vampire
Re: Knowing
"As you wish."
Willow closed his eyes briefly and nodded once in a submissive gesture that was nearly a bow. He was serious, but only to the degree that formality dictated, rather than overly foreboding or with a sense of dread. He did seem content to hang around and do whatever she wanted, without too much concern, and always congenial.
Bela had groomed Willow personally for several years. He was one of a handful of employees (or servants) who currently enjoyed his position, and the latest of the dozens and dozens who had died serving the vampire over the centuries. Regular personal audience with Bela was something even Willow no longer had. It became unnecessary once he had proven himself capable and reliable.
Like most of them, Willow prided himself on his cunning and his intellect, and had learned very early on, and in a painful manner, the value of flawless etiquette. Unlike some of them, he retained a good measure of his sanity.
Willow closed his eyes briefly and nodded once in a submissive gesture that was nearly a bow. He was serious, but only to the degree that formality dictated, rather than overly foreboding or with a sense of dread. He did seem content to hang around and do whatever she wanted, without too much concern, and always congenial.
Bela had groomed Willow personally for several years. He was one of a handful of employees (or servants) who currently enjoyed his position, and the latest of the dozens and dozens who had died serving the vampire over the centuries. Regular personal audience with Bela was something even Willow no longer had. It became unnecessary once he had proven himself capable and reliable.
Like most of them, Willow prided himself on his cunning and his intellect, and had learned very early on, and in a painful manner, the value of flawless etiquette. Unlike some of them, he retained a good measure of his sanity.
There are no allies, and there are no friends.
There are only tools and liabilities.
There are only tools and liabilities.
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Alyson Rolfe
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Wed Nov 19, 2008 8:12 pm
- Name: Alyson Rolfe
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Alyson was quickly learning to appreciate Willow's presence. Without likely knowing much about her, Willow treated Alyson with respect and deference as if she were a lady of some importance, rather than a lost waif living at his master's pleasure.
The man who had led them to the waiting area had left them momentarily, which had allowed Alyson and Willow to talk quietly in some measure of privacy, apparently to gather pen and paper with which to record their knowledge of what happened to the injured man so that it could be reported to the guard. When he returned Alyson did her best to explain where and how the man had been found, frowning as she realized she had little information that she felt would be useful. Completely forgetting about the journal, Alyson did not mention finding the item.
She turned to Willow, allowing him to add any information he might thing pertinent to add, then allowed her eyes to roam back across the room toward the curtain, behind which lay the injured man and Metarie. "I hope she can help me..." Alyson mused silently.
The man who had led them to the waiting area had left them momentarily, which had allowed Alyson and Willow to talk quietly in some measure of privacy, apparently to gather pen and paper with which to record their knowledge of what happened to the injured man so that it could be reported to the guard. When he returned Alyson did her best to explain where and how the man had been found, frowning as she realized she had little information that she felt would be useful. Completely forgetting about the journal, Alyson did not mention finding the item.
She turned to Willow, allowing him to add any information he might thing pertinent to add, then allowed her eyes to roam back across the room toward the curtain, behind which lay the injured man and Metarie. "I hope she can help me..." Alyson mused silently.
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Isaac Arcott
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Wed Jul 14, 2010 3:45 am
- Name: Isaac Arcott
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
"We offer two types of medical services, those using healing magic and those that do not. Do you have a preference?”
When confronted with such decisions, Isaac usually fell back on his Theogian roots. After all, if he had listened to his grandparents' warnings about the dangers of magic, he would probably be safe and healthy at home, "well, I'm not exactly supposed to accept magic-" On the other hand, he realized if he were home, he'd probably be helping Katryn pick out her wedding dress right about now, "-but if there's anything my parents have taught me, it's how to look the other way. Do what you will, Doctor, I have no preference. If I may ask one more thing; who brought me in? I should like to know the identity of my savior." Isaac had no friends in Marn, and surely it wasn't the city patrol, who had bludgeoned him in the first place. Whoever they were, they likely wanted something from him, and if Isaac wanted to survive long enough to find Alyson, he would have to get them out of his way first.
Isaac began to grow a little restless, he had a 'quest' to complete. Even though he hadn't decided whether or not to go through with it, every second he spent on his back felt wasted. He decided to fall back on what he was good at: observation. In doing so he briefly noticed a dark spot on the inside of Metarie's wrist as she examined him. Upon closer inspection he noticed it looked more like a symbol of some kind, but why it seemed so familiar was beyond Isaac's recollection. Wanting to quench his curiosity, he thought to ask, but his throat seized with the anxiety that usually came before asking a stranger a personal question. Like a weight pressing down on his chest, heavier than any bruise, the question could not be lifted from his lips. He peered again at the marking, and before he could be accused of staring, he looked away to stare blankly at the curtain, deep in thought. If he could not search his mind for the answer, then perhaps he could research it later. Books always felt so much more reliable than people when it came to the truth.
When confronted with such decisions, Isaac usually fell back on his Theogian roots. After all, if he had listened to his grandparents' warnings about the dangers of magic, he would probably be safe and healthy at home, "well, I'm not exactly supposed to accept magic-" On the other hand, he realized if he were home, he'd probably be helping Katryn pick out her wedding dress right about now, "-but if there's anything my parents have taught me, it's how to look the other way. Do what you will, Doctor, I have no preference. If I may ask one more thing; who brought me in? I should like to know the identity of my savior." Isaac had no friends in Marn, and surely it wasn't the city patrol, who had bludgeoned him in the first place. Whoever they were, they likely wanted something from him, and if Isaac wanted to survive long enough to find Alyson, he would have to get them out of his way first.
Isaac began to grow a little restless, he had a 'quest' to complete. Even though he hadn't decided whether or not to go through with it, every second he spent on his back felt wasted. He decided to fall back on what he was good at: observation. In doing so he briefly noticed a dark spot on the inside of Metarie's wrist as she examined him. Upon closer inspection he noticed it looked more like a symbol of some kind, but why it seemed so familiar was beyond Isaac's recollection. Wanting to quench his curiosity, he thought to ask, but his throat seized with the anxiety that usually came before asking a stranger a personal question. Like a weight pressing down on his chest, heavier than any bruise, the question could not be lifted from his lips. He peered again at the marking, and before he could be accused of staring, he looked away to stare blankly at the curtain, deep in thought. If he could not search his mind for the answer, then perhaps he could research it later. Books always felt so much more reliable than people when it came to the truth.
Re: Knowing
Metarie waited patiently as Isaac debated internally and verbally with the decision to allow her to use healing magic on him. Healing his physical injuries through magic would make his recovery time substantially quicker. Before even taking a breath, Isaac changed topics. Metarie’s slight smile broadened some. “Once we finish I will be able to introduce you to them. But, for now, please just relax and I will see you feeling better in no time.”
Metarie held her left hand above Isaac’s heart, fingers splayed. Her right fingers gently encircled his wrist, resting on the pulse point. A comforting, soothing, and lulling warmth emanated from her hand as a golden glow also appeared. Metarie’s innate ability to heal drew from her own essence and gently transferred it to Isaac. Because of the minimal damage done to his physical frame, the effort was not as taxing as it could have been. Very quickly black and blue became greenish-yellow to sallow leaving only a slight tenderness. The split lip would no longer be split, although the swelling would take at least an hour before it finally subsided. As abrasions began to tingle, Isaac fixated on her sigil and the burning question bubbled like a pot on the hob. His pulse rate skipped. Not an empath, Metarie could only assume he was nervous about the use of magic.
She offered him another comforting smile but he seemed lost in thought. “Isaac, we are nearly done. You’re doing very well.” Metarie nodded briefly before allowing the smile to be replaced with a look of concentration. She mentally took a step back and assessed Isaac’s body using her knowledge and ability. All was perfectly fine until something very magic based decidedly rejected her attempt at healing. A taint of some kind, nothing she had ever seen before, at the edge of the physical and the Dreaming, was tightly wound around Isaac’s essence.
A sharp pain lanced through her, numbing her hand. Years of training was her only saving grace. A ripple of pain tightened the corners of her eyes and caused the muscle in her jaw to jump. The warm, soothing connection was severed by the push back from whatever that was, leaving Isaac without it’s comfort. Metarie released her grasp on his wrist and pulled the covers up over him. “There now, we’re done. Keris will take a moment with you to fill in your paperwork and get you cleaned up. After that, we talk for a moment, then you are free to come meet the people who brought you in.”
Metarie stepped back, away from Isaac as Keris moved in to clean the blood and grime from his face, chest, and hands. “Did you have any further questions other than finding out who brought you in?”
Metarie held her left hand above Isaac’s heart, fingers splayed. Her right fingers gently encircled his wrist, resting on the pulse point. A comforting, soothing, and lulling warmth emanated from her hand as a golden glow also appeared. Metarie’s innate ability to heal drew from her own essence and gently transferred it to Isaac. Because of the minimal damage done to his physical frame, the effort was not as taxing as it could have been. Very quickly black and blue became greenish-yellow to sallow leaving only a slight tenderness. The split lip would no longer be split, although the swelling would take at least an hour before it finally subsided. As abrasions began to tingle, Isaac fixated on her sigil and the burning question bubbled like a pot on the hob. His pulse rate skipped. Not an empath, Metarie could only assume he was nervous about the use of magic.
She offered him another comforting smile but he seemed lost in thought. “Isaac, we are nearly done. You’re doing very well.” Metarie nodded briefly before allowing the smile to be replaced with a look of concentration. She mentally took a step back and assessed Isaac’s body using her knowledge and ability. All was perfectly fine until something very magic based decidedly rejected her attempt at healing. A taint of some kind, nothing she had ever seen before, at the edge of the physical and the Dreaming, was tightly wound around Isaac’s essence.
A sharp pain lanced through her, numbing her hand. Years of training was her only saving grace. A ripple of pain tightened the corners of her eyes and caused the muscle in her jaw to jump. The warm, soothing connection was severed by the push back from whatever that was, leaving Isaac without it’s comfort. Metarie released her grasp on his wrist and pulled the covers up over him. “There now, we’re done. Keris will take a moment with you to fill in your paperwork and get you cleaned up. After that, we talk for a moment, then you are free to come meet the people who brought you in.”
Metarie stepped back, away from Isaac as Keris moved in to clean the blood and grime from his face, chest, and hands. “Did you have any further questions other than finding out who brought you in?”
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Isaac Arcott
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Wed Jul 14, 2010 3:45 am
- Name: Isaac Arcott
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Things seemed to be going well. Isaac just laid back as the healer restored his health in ways beyond logical comprehension. It was in this moment that a surprising resentment he did not know he had came to surface in his mind. He did not know what it took Metarie to conjure up such magic, but compared to all the hours he spent studying human anatomy and natural medical practices, it just seemed a little too easy for the Healer to do in a few seconds what would've taken him years of research to attempt. Perhaps this is why so few trusted magic, it was the mystery of it all. And yet, it was that same mystery that seduced so many others. Perhaps it was their envy that drove the Puradynes to their hatred. Isaac could surely empathize, for in his awe of Dr. Sehkara's magic, he felt like a frustrated little child wanting to play with the grown-ups.
Since her medical practices were obviously beyond what Isaac had studied, he realized that he wouldn't be able to tell if it were going well or not. It surely felt comforting, but for all he knew, that comfort was merely a spell to keep him relaxed, while in fact he was within inches of his life. When the doctor released her grasp, the soothing warmth dissipated, leaving Isaac to wonder if that was all a part of the ritual. Something in her eyes gave him the impression that something was wrong, but who was he to question it? Perhaps it was all part of the mystery of magic.
Of course, Isaac was prone to conjure up every worst case scenario whenever uncertainty was present. Maybe she sensed that Isaac was bleeding internally, and her magic was insufficient to prevent his impending cardiac arrest. Blood could've been leaking into his brain (an organ as mysterious as magic itself), which might have caused him to feel that soothing sensation, only moments before inducing a seizure. Then there was the absolute worst case: that the doctor finally confirmed what Isaac had feared, that he was cursed with a spell that would take his life in 32 days if he failed to kill an innocent (or not) stranger, Alyson Rolfe. He didn't know the extent of the doctors powers, she could've been more powerful than the healers he saw in Keltaris, she could've learned the whole truth just by examining him! She did seem a little anxious to leave. What if she was on her way to warn Alyson, or inform the guards? She might not even bother with that, she might simply return with a lethal dose of magic!
It's alright to be paranoid when you're upper class. If you assume everyone's out to gut you, then you have a perfect excuse for subjugating them. Isaac normally didn't think this way, he normally mocked the Keltarian elders and their ignorant policies, but now he was starting to think more and more like them, and he knew it. It didn't stop him, for he was too afraid to trust anyone in this city. Even Keris, with her gentle visage, could've been an enemy, for good people were generally the enemies of aspiring murderers.
"I just need to know what you did with the rest of my clothes. I'm feeling a lot better already, I-I think I'd better go. Don't take it personally of course," he did his best to laugh casually and not nervously, "it's quite a proper establishment you have here, excellent service! I'll be sure to recommend it to all of my sick friends. However, I really must be going, I have very important business in the city, and I mustn't delay." He slipped away from Keris' cloth and sat up on the bed, trying to peer around the curtain for any sign of his belongings.
Since her medical practices were obviously beyond what Isaac had studied, he realized that he wouldn't be able to tell if it were going well or not. It surely felt comforting, but for all he knew, that comfort was merely a spell to keep him relaxed, while in fact he was within inches of his life. When the doctor released her grasp, the soothing warmth dissipated, leaving Isaac to wonder if that was all a part of the ritual. Something in her eyes gave him the impression that something was wrong, but who was he to question it? Perhaps it was all part of the mystery of magic.
Of course, Isaac was prone to conjure up every worst case scenario whenever uncertainty was present. Maybe she sensed that Isaac was bleeding internally, and her magic was insufficient to prevent his impending cardiac arrest. Blood could've been leaking into his brain (an organ as mysterious as magic itself), which might have caused him to feel that soothing sensation, only moments before inducing a seizure. Then there was the absolute worst case: that the doctor finally confirmed what Isaac had feared, that he was cursed with a spell that would take his life in 32 days if he failed to kill an innocent (or not) stranger, Alyson Rolfe. He didn't know the extent of the doctors powers, she could've been more powerful than the healers he saw in Keltaris, she could've learned the whole truth just by examining him! She did seem a little anxious to leave. What if she was on her way to warn Alyson, or inform the guards? She might not even bother with that, she might simply return with a lethal dose of magic!
It's alright to be paranoid when you're upper class. If you assume everyone's out to gut you, then you have a perfect excuse for subjugating them. Isaac normally didn't think this way, he normally mocked the Keltarian elders and their ignorant policies, but now he was starting to think more and more like them, and he knew it. It didn't stop him, for he was too afraid to trust anyone in this city. Even Keris, with her gentle visage, could've been an enemy, for good people were generally the enemies of aspiring murderers.
"I just need to know what you did with the rest of my clothes. I'm feeling a lot better already, I-I think I'd better go. Don't take it personally of course," he did his best to laugh casually and not nervously, "it's quite a proper establishment you have here, excellent service! I'll be sure to recommend it to all of my sick friends. However, I really must be going, I have very important business in the city, and I mustn't delay." He slipped away from Keris' cloth and sat up on the bed, trying to peer around the curtain for any sign of his belongings.
Re: Knowing
Keris looked at Metarie, gaze filled with uncertainty. Metarie nodded and gestured for Keris to leave. Keris glanced back and forth between the pair before nodding and leaving.
"Of course. Your things are there.” Metarie gestured to the wall. His shirt, vest, and satchel each hung from clothing hooks. Metarie looked at him with concern, pausing for only a moment before approaching him and touching the fingers of her right hand to the top of his left hand.
“Isaac…” How did you explain things like this? “When I was assessing you, there was something… magic entwined with your essence. I have only studied healing magic, but if you are willing to stay in town I may be able to do further research.” Metarie’s voice was filled with genuine concern.
"Of course. Your things are there.” Metarie gestured to the wall. His shirt, vest, and satchel each hung from clothing hooks. Metarie looked at him with concern, pausing for only a moment before approaching him and touching the fingers of her right hand to the top of his left hand.
“Isaac…” How did you explain things like this? “When I was assessing you, there was something… magic entwined with your essence. I have only studied healing magic, but if you are willing to stay in town I may be able to do further research.” Metarie’s voice was filled with genuine concern.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Isaac Arcott
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Wed Jul 14, 2010 3:45 am
- Name: Isaac Arcott
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Afraid that his paranoia would cost him his life, Isaac decided to accept her offer. "If you feel it is necessary, then I'll trust your judgment, but I can assure you the only thing magical about me is my poor memory. I don't suppose you have a remedy for that, do you?"
He suspected that she might simply be stalling him long enough to investigate his motives, which she may ultimately do either way, but he couldn't help but hope that somehow she'd find a cure. She was different from the healers he saw in Keltaris and its surrounding villages; she didn't care about his caste or how well he could pay her, only that he be well. Despite the risk he took in remaining in the doctor's care, he now had another chance to find out what the marking on the inside of her wrist reminded him of.
"I wont be leaving town just yet, as I have business here. You have until the end of the month to put your concerns to rest. However, I'm afraid we'll have to continue tomorrow, as I have to get back to my business. Perhaps you could tell me where I could find those noble heroes who rescued me from distress, so that I may send them my thanks."
He suspected that she might simply be stalling him long enough to investigate his motives, which she may ultimately do either way, but he couldn't help but hope that somehow she'd find a cure. She was different from the healers he saw in Keltaris and its surrounding villages; she didn't care about his caste or how well he could pay her, only that he be well. Despite the risk he took in remaining in the doctor's care, he now had another chance to find out what the marking on the inside of her wrist reminded him of.
"I wont be leaving town just yet, as I have business here. You have until the end of the month to put your concerns to rest. However, I'm afraid we'll have to continue tomorrow, as I have to get back to my business. Perhaps you could tell me where I could find those noble heroes who rescued me from distress, so that I may send them my thanks."
Re: Knowing
The tips of her fingers brushed over the top of his hand as she let her hand fall to her side, then tucked both hands in her pockets.
"I'll see what I find out. If I can find out anything." Yet another reason to petition the Old One for use of his library... "They are outside, waiting in the reception area."
Metarie smiled and inclined her head to indicate she was taking her leave. The curtains rustled as she stepped out of the alcove.
Crossing to the front of the hospital area, Metarie finally appeared in view of Alyson and Willow.
"Alyson," she said, before reaching to draw Alyson toward her for a brief hug. "I hope you'll forgive my abruptness. My patients always come first. "
"I'll see what I find out. If I can find out anything." Yet another reason to petition the Old One for use of his library... "They are outside, waiting in the reception area."
Metarie smiled and inclined her head to indicate she was taking her leave. The curtains rustled as she stepped out of the alcove.
Crossing to the front of the hospital area, Metarie finally appeared in view of Alyson and Willow.
"Alyson," she said, before reaching to draw Alyson toward her for a brief hug. "I hope you'll forgive my abruptness. My patients always come first. "
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Alyson Rolfe
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- Posts: 77
- Joined: Wed Nov 19, 2008 8:12 pm
- Name: Alyson Rolfe
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Alyson appreciated the hug Metarie gave her - it had been many years since she had experienced even the briefest gesture of affection from anyone. "There is nothing to forgive, I understand," Alyson replied with a smile. She glanced back towards the curtain but refrained from asking about the man. She had helped him to safety, anything else was not her business.
"I was coming to see you - before we found the man in the alley. So much has happened since... since you rescued me from Tomas." Alyson looked around, the waiting area hardly seemed the place to discuss the events of the past few days. "Maybe when you are finished here we can go somewhere and talk... You had mentioned that there might be work for someone... someone like me... and I... I also wanted to ask you about," she paused looking uncertain. "I wanted to ask you if you might be able to explain these odd... feelings... I keep having. It happens around some people or things, but not others. It does not seem to matter if it is someone I know, or a complete stranger."
Alyson did not know how to describe the sensations she experienced, and she half expected Metarie to laugh at her.
"I was coming to see you - before we found the man in the alley. So much has happened since... since you rescued me from Tomas." Alyson looked around, the waiting area hardly seemed the place to discuss the events of the past few days. "Maybe when you are finished here we can go somewhere and talk... You had mentioned that there might be work for someone... someone like me... and I... I also wanted to ask you about," she paused looking uncertain. "I wanted to ask you if you might be able to explain these odd... feelings... I keep having. It happens around some people or things, but not others. It does not seem to matter if it is someone I know, or a complete stranger."
Alyson did not know how to describe the sensations she experienced, and she half expected Metarie to laugh at her.
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Isaac Arcott
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Wed Jul 14, 2010 3:45 am
- Name: Isaac Arcott
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Isaac rose from the bed and limped over to the wall where his clothes had been hung. His white button shirt was slightly ruffled from it's quick removal, but was still intact. He realized that despite his loss of consciousness, there was nothing significantly emergent about his injuries that would require his shirt to be cut open. But of course, a magical doctor might not need to cut anything when repairing an injured body. It's impossible to imagine why anyone would prefer old fashioned surgery to a non-invasive spell. Well, anyone besides a surgeon of course.
Isaac remembered being interrogated by the guards before he came to Marn, asking him what business he had in the city and what magical powers he possessed. He answered them truthfully; he had no powers, and he was sent here on a delivery (delivering Ms. Rolfe to the underworld). Obviously Marn had a strong Puradynic influence, but from the looks of the hospital, it couldn't always afford to be 'pure'. The most talented 'natural' doctors likely moved to Keltaris to practice private healthcare, where all the money was made. Though they surely lucked out having someone as talented as Metarie in their service, Isaac had a feeling the city and its puradynic bias would much prefer a normal human doctor of equal skill. That's when he remembered the sigil on the inside of Metarie's wrist. Perhaps it wasn't simply artwork; perhaps it was tag of some sort, to identify her as impure.
Sliding his shirt back on, he blushed as he noticed Keris enter behind him, cleaning up the supplies used to treat his injuries. She apologized for interrupting him, but Isaac assured her it was quite alright. As she was cleaning, Isaac noticed a glass of water that was left next to the bed, and came to realize his incredible thirst. "Oh, leave the water, please. Thank you." Absent-minded and impatient, he began buttoning his shirt unevenly while he waited for Keris to leave. He was so thirsty he didn't want her to bare witness to the uncivilized consumption that was about to take place. As soon as her back was turned he downed the whole glass in a few gulps, with drops of water spilling out from his lips on to his shirt. Wiping his face he gasped. It was quite a hot day after all, perhaps he wouldn't need his vest. He instead folded it into his satchel and left the emergency ward with his shirt dotted-wet and improperly buttoned.
As he came in to the hospital's reception/waiting area, he noticed Dr. Sehkhara talking to someone. Isaac's anxiety began to build up; perhaps she was one of his rescuers. The green dress she wore was elegant but practical; she looked to be middle to upper class. She couldn't have been much older than Isaac, and though she looked stronger than the average noblewoman, he doubted she would've been able to carry him here all by herself. Perhaps she owned a carriage, and employed servants to aid her (the man she was with seemed to hover close by). Such hands-on philanthropy seemed unexpected from an aristocrat, but whatever her story, it was impolite to repay her kindness by staring from afar. He swallowed his social anxiety and approached the doctor and the woman in conversation, oblivious to his messy appearance.
"Pardon me doctor, but to whom do I owe my gratitude?"
Isaac remembered being interrogated by the guards before he came to Marn, asking him what business he had in the city and what magical powers he possessed. He answered them truthfully; he had no powers, and he was sent here on a delivery (delivering Ms. Rolfe to the underworld). Obviously Marn had a strong Puradynic influence, but from the looks of the hospital, it couldn't always afford to be 'pure'. The most talented 'natural' doctors likely moved to Keltaris to practice private healthcare, where all the money was made. Though they surely lucked out having someone as talented as Metarie in their service, Isaac had a feeling the city and its puradynic bias would much prefer a normal human doctor of equal skill. That's when he remembered the sigil on the inside of Metarie's wrist. Perhaps it wasn't simply artwork; perhaps it was tag of some sort, to identify her as impure.
Sliding his shirt back on, he blushed as he noticed Keris enter behind him, cleaning up the supplies used to treat his injuries. She apologized for interrupting him, but Isaac assured her it was quite alright. As she was cleaning, Isaac noticed a glass of water that was left next to the bed, and came to realize his incredible thirst. "Oh, leave the water, please. Thank you." Absent-minded and impatient, he began buttoning his shirt unevenly while he waited for Keris to leave. He was so thirsty he didn't want her to bare witness to the uncivilized consumption that was about to take place. As soon as her back was turned he downed the whole glass in a few gulps, with drops of water spilling out from his lips on to his shirt. Wiping his face he gasped. It was quite a hot day after all, perhaps he wouldn't need his vest. He instead folded it into his satchel and left the emergency ward with his shirt dotted-wet and improperly buttoned.
As he came in to the hospital's reception/waiting area, he noticed Dr. Sehkhara talking to someone. Isaac's anxiety began to build up; perhaps she was one of his rescuers. The green dress she wore was elegant but practical; she looked to be middle to upper class. She couldn't have been much older than Isaac, and though she looked stronger than the average noblewoman, he doubted she would've been able to carry him here all by herself. Perhaps she owned a carriage, and employed servants to aid her (the man she was with seemed to hover close by). Such hands-on philanthropy seemed unexpected from an aristocrat, but whatever her story, it was impolite to repay her kindness by staring from afar. He swallowed his social anxiety and approached the doctor and the woman in conversation, oblivious to his messy appearance.
"Pardon me doctor, but to whom do I owe my gratitude?"
Re: Knowing
As Alyson described the sensations she felt, Metarie internally began to consider the different reasons for them – a problem to be solved. Metarie nodded and reached for Alyson’s hands, clasping them in her own to offer a physical connection of support.
“I’d love to catch up with you and am curious about the experiences you are having. Would you like to come to my house once I finish my shift? I should be done within the next hour.” The sincerity of her offer and her genuine good-naturedness infused her tone and body language.
Metarie looked to the small, dark man standing with Alyson. Curiosity flickered in her gaze. Who was this person and why did he stand so close to Alyson? Had Alyson somehow engaged a body guard to protect her from Tomas? Alyson was certainly dressed much better than she had been. Perhaps the Dae’s were well-off enough to pay their farm hands generously. Not that it mattered. Alyson had an account at the Marnian bank, which Metarie had set up when she and Cam had returned to Marn.
Isaac appeared shortly after she extended her invitation to Alyson, distracting her from her assessment of the little man. Metarie looked toward Isaac and the compassion flickered to life once again. His disheveled appearance actually made him look worse than he had when he lay bruised within the hospital bed. At least there, the deshabille looked natural. Metarie did not like to think the man would be left to his own devices, especially after having his coin purse stolen. She would encourage him to make file a report with the guard. And, if he would let her, offer at least one night at the local Inn or if he would not, direct him to the University Hostel where he could work for his night's stay, bath, and meals.
“Of course. Isaac, this is Alyson. She and this gentleman helped you to the hospital.” Metarie did not know the man’s name and felt remiss for failing to introduce herself to him. He did not move off when Metarie approached. She could only assume that he helped Alyson bring Isaac in to the Hospital.
“I’d love to catch up with you and am curious about the experiences you are having. Would you like to come to my house once I finish my shift? I should be done within the next hour.” The sincerity of her offer and her genuine good-naturedness infused her tone and body language.
Metarie looked to the small, dark man standing with Alyson. Curiosity flickered in her gaze. Who was this person and why did he stand so close to Alyson? Had Alyson somehow engaged a body guard to protect her from Tomas? Alyson was certainly dressed much better than she had been. Perhaps the Dae’s were well-off enough to pay their farm hands generously. Not that it mattered. Alyson had an account at the Marnian bank, which Metarie had set up when she and Cam had returned to Marn.
Isaac appeared shortly after she extended her invitation to Alyson, distracting her from her assessment of the little man. Metarie looked toward Isaac and the compassion flickered to life once again. His disheveled appearance actually made him look worse than he had when he lay bruised within the hospital bed. At least there, the deshabille looked natural. Metarie did not like to think the man would be left to his own devices, especially after having his coin purse stolen. She would encourage him to make file a report with the guard. And, if he would let her, offer at least one night at the local Inn or if he would not, direct him to the University Hostel where he could work for his night's stay, bath, and meals.
“Of course. Isaac, this is Alyson. She and this gentleman helped you to the hospital.” Metarie did not know the man’s name and felt remiss for failing to introduce herself to him. He did not move off when Metarie approached. She could only assume that he helped Alyson bring Isaac in to the Hospital.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
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Alyson Rolfe
- Citizen
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Wed Nov 19, 2008 8:12 pm
- Name: Alyson Rolfe
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
“I’d love to catch up with you and am curious about the experiences you are having. Would you like to come to my house once I finish my shift? I should be done within the next hour.” The sincerity of her offer and her genuine good-naturedness infused her tone and body language.
Alyson squeezed Metarie's hands appreciatively as she replied, "Thank you - that would be... I would like that very much. Should I wait for you here?" Motioning to the seats along the wall in the waiting area. For some it might seem like an uncomfortable place to wait - but to Alyson, the promise of answers was worth any amount of discomfort. Besides, she was not so far removed from Tomas bakery that she knew what it meant to demand such comforts. She might have looked a lady, but Alyson was still in mind a peasant-waif.
Before Metarie could respond, the man Alyson and Willow had brought in emerged from behind a curtain. His bedraggled appearance could not hide a certain gentlemanliness that was reflected in the tone of his voice as he asked, "Pardon me doctor, but to whom do I owe my gratitude?"
Metarie replied, “Of course. Isaac, this is Alyson. She and this gentleman helped you to the hospital.”
Alyson stepped forward, feeling relief that they had rescued the man in time to help. And now he had a name - Isaac. "I am Alyson Rolfe, and this is Willow," she offered in introduction. "I hope you will be all right."
Alyson squeezed Metarie's hands appreciatively as she replied, "Thank you - that would be... I would like that very much. Should I wait for you here?" Motioning to the seats along the wall in the waiting area. For some it might seem like an uncomfortable place to wait - but to Alyson, the promise of answers was worth any amount of discomfort. Besides, she was not so far removed from Tomas bakery that she knew what it meant to demand such comforts. She might have looked a lady, but Alyson was still in mind a peasant-waif.
Before Metarie could respond, the man Alyson and Willow had brought in emerged from behind a curtain. His bedraggled appearance could not hide a certain gentlemanliness that was reflected in the tone of his voice as he asked, "Pardon me doctor, but to whom do I owe my gratitude?"
Metarie replied, “Of course. Isaac, this is Alyson. She and this gentleman helped you to the hospital.”
Alyson stepped forward, feeling relief that they had rescued the man in time to help. And now he had a name - Isaac. "I am Alyson Rolfe, and this is Willow," she offered in introduction. "I hope you will be all right."
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Camulous Smithson
- Guardsman
- Posts: 209
- Joined: Fri Jun 24, 2005 12:59 am
- Name: Camulous Smithson
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Willow smiled charmingly to Isaac when Alyson introduced him. He looked friendly and harmless. Perhaps he was Alyson's servant.
* * *
Eyes and ears all over Marn. The unchallenged master of that game was the vampire from Shim. Nobody who had a clue about the Marnian underworld would question that.
But there were other players in the game of cat and mouse. The most obvious of these, hiding in plain sight, were the guards. Everyone trying to be evasive knew to avoid those clearly demarcated blunt instruments of puradynic justice. The guard made no claims about having intelligence gathering mechanisms beyond the occasional informant.
What few people, even experts like Willow, could never fully appreciate, were the numbers and reliability of simple friends someone in Camulous' position had. His problem wasn't lack of information, it was how to cope with flurries of it when much of it was worthless. A side effect of his stoic, often unwelcoming demeanor was that it deflected conversations he didn't want to have, and made most people think twice about bothering him. A blunt instrument for a blunt organization. But it worked.
This was why, when an old friend of his who had overseen the result of what happened with Isaac, and coincidentally knew who Willow and Alyson were, had connected the dots, Camulous actually had time to hear about it, and to make room in his schedule to investigate it personally.
On duty he had to wear his armor. The day was warm, which meant he sweated some. Modern craftsmanship minimized the discomfort in ways his predecessors didn't have the benefit of. The decision to use a white alloy for the plates was a boon when it came to reflecting sunlight... And it looked impressive.
When he arrived at the hospital, the staff began their suspicious theorizing about his motives. Was he there to see Ree? Yes of course he was. But that was interfering with his duties. He shouldn't be seeing her while on duty. Maybe there was a legal reason for the visit.
He found Alyson and Metarie a little further inside, along with a third stranger - presumably the one Alyson pulled out of the alley. The three of them were talking, and everything seemed in order.
Willow, too, was there. The captain knew of him enough to recognize him by description, and knew only that he worked for the vampire. That was more than enough information to pass judgment. Camulous barely even looked at the smaller man. He preferred to ignore him and his inevitable lies.
Willow understood the captain's disdain without needing an explanation. Of course he hated him. He worked for the vampire and, by extension, the judges. To this he took no offense, and merely stepped back to let the others talk. He was more interested in why the captain was in the hospital to begin with. Was it just good timing?
"Hello Ree. Alyson." Camulous nodded to them both.
* * *
Eyes and ears all over Marn. The unchallenged master of that game was the vampire from Shim. Nobody who had a clue about the Marnian underworld would question that.
But there were other players in the game of cat and mouse. The most obvious of these, hiding in plain sight, were the guards. Everyone trying to be evasive knew to avoid those clearly demarcated blunt instruments of puradynic justice. The guard made no claims about having intelligence gathering mechanisms beyond the occasional informant.
What few people, even experts like Willow, could never fully appreciate, were the numbers and reliability of simple friends someone in Camulous' position had. His problem wasn't lack of information, it was how to cope with flurries of it when much of it was worthless. A side effect of his stoic, often unwelcoming demeanor was that it deflected conversations he didn't want to have, and made most people think twice about bothering him. A blunt instrument for a blunt organization. But it worked.
This was why, when an old friend of his who had overseen the result of what happened with Isaac, and coincidentally knew who Willow and Alyson were, had connected the dots, Camulous actually had time to hear about it, and to make room in his schedule to investigate it personally.
On duty he had to wear his armor. The day was warm, which meant he sweated some. Modern craftsmanship minimized the discomfort in ways his predecessors didn't have the benefit of. The decision to use a white alloy for the plates was a boon when it came to reflecting sunlight... And it looked impressive.
When he arrived at the hospital, the staff began their suspicious theorizing about his motives. Was he there to see Ree? Yes of course he was. But that was interfering with his duties. He shouldn't be seeing her while on duty. Maybe there was a legal reason for the visit.
He found Alyson and Metarie a little further inside, along with a third stranger - presumably the one Alyson pulled out of the alley. The three of them were talking, and everything seemed in order.
Willow, too, was there. The captain knew of him enough to recognize him by description, and knew only that he worked for the vampire. That was more than enough information to pass judgment. Camulous barely even looked at the smaller man. He preferred to ignore him and his inevitable lies.
Willow understood the captain's disdain without needing an explanation. Of course he hated him. He worked for the vampire and, by extension, the judges. To this he took no offense, and merely stepped back to let the others talk. He was more interested in why the captain was in the hospital to begin with. Was it just good timing?
"Hello Ree. Alyson." Camulous nodded to them both.
Soldiers live.
And wonder why.
And wonder why.
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Isaac Arcott
- Outsider
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Wed Jul 14, 2010 3:45 am
- Name: Isaac Arcott
- Race: Human
Re: Knowing
Suffice to say that Isaac was disoriented enough when he stepped off that hospital bed back in the emergency ward. So by the time he heard the name Alyson Rolfe, his world started spiraling. To his surprise, when Metarie applied her warm care-giving touch to his hand in the emergency room, Isaac had stopped thinking about Alyson Rolfe for the first time in a month. It was almost a relief to have something else to worry about, such as food or a place to sleep. A place to sleep. Isaac suddenly realized that without any coin, he probably should have accepted the doctor's offer to stay in the hospital. He had never spent a night on the streets, and from what little he knew of his beloved's nightly excursions in Keltaris, he had no intention to. Although there was one instance in which he fell asleep on the marble steps of the Keltarian university after a late evening of heavy studying, but the only misfortune he had to endure then was explaining his disheveled state to his parents.
This train of thought down the tracks of memory merely served to distract Isaac's mind from the issue at hand. The young woman introduced herself as Alyson Rolfe, and she clearly lived in Marn; it was no coincidence. Albeit there was some relief in knowing that she was a young woman, and not some powerful witch, although 90% of Isaac's understanding of mystics came from fiction and overzealous theology. But deep down he always hoped she'd be an innocent simple girl, making her an easier victim.
Isaac's multitasking had declined since his injury, and unfortunately thinking was too heavy a burden to be balanced with anything else. As he pondered the many ways he could take Alyson's life (should he choose to, of course), all his frail body could muster was a perpetual nod of the head as his eyes became lost in hers. He couldn't even speak; he slurred a quick "how-do-you-do" which sounded more like a wheeze. One would guess he was either frightened or lovestruck, although there's not much difference between the two.
To make matters worse, a Marnian guard had entered his peripherals while he was distracted. The pause in conversation allowed the man to interject as he addressed both Metarie and Alyson. It was at that moment, not as he was getting beaten to death in an alleyway, that Isaac felt he may have gotten a little over his head. Perhaps the man came to finish the job, to ensure that Isaac didn't rat out the other corrupt guardsmen. Even if not, even if he was a noble and just soldier, he'd still have cause to run Isaac through, were he to learn Isaac's story.
Isaac decided now would be an ideal time to wait and keep his mouth shut until instructed otherwise. He also realized it was an appropriate time to stop nodding his head like a bedlamite.
This train of thought down the tracks of memory merely served to distract Isaac's mind from the issue at hand. The young woman introduced herself as Alyson Rolfe, and she clearly lived in Marn; it was no coincidence. Albeit there was some relief in knowing that she was a young woman, and not some powerful witch, although 90% of Isaac's understanding of mystics came from fiction and overzealous theology. But deep down he always hoped she'd be an innocent simple girl, making her an easier victim.
Isaac's multitasking had declined since his injury, and unfortunately thinking was too heavy a burden to be balanced with anything else. As he pondered the many ways he could take Alyson's life (should he choose to, of course), all his frail body could muster was a perpetual nod of the head as his eyes became lost in hers. He couldn't even speak; he slurred a quick "how-do-you-do" which sounded more like a wheeze. One would guess he was either frightened or lovestruck, although there's not much difference between the two.
To make matters worse, a Marnian guard had entered his peripherals while he was distracted. The pause in conversation allowed the man to interject as he addressed both Metarie and Alyson. It was at that moment, not as he was getting beaten to death in an alleyway, that Isaac felt he may have gotten a little over his head. Perhaps the man came to finish the job, to ensure that Isaac didn't rat out the other corrupt guardsmen. Even if not, even if he was a noble and just soldier, he'd still have cause to run Isaac through, were he to learn Isaac's story.
Isaac decided now would be an ideal time to wait and keep his mouth shut until instructed otherwise. He also realized it was an appropriate time to stop nodding his head like a bedlamite.