... nein

Shops, street merchants, taverns, brothels and inns situated along the busy Main Street that runs through the middle of the city.
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... nein

Post by Metarie » Mon Jul 21, 2008 1:57 am

(OOC: continued from http://www.tharshaddin.com/rp/viewtopic.php?f=6&t=1490)

February, 122 PW

Metarie cast a glance around her home. Unused bedding lay on the couch and the floor. Unwashed dishes were in the sink. Dirty clothes were in the bathroom. Plaster dotted the floor and the door was bent on its hinges. Her home, like her inner landscape, was a mess. If she put one to rights, then she could work on the other.

Metarie started in the library area. Carefully, she picked up pieces of the broken vase and glass. The flowers were set aside. They would be returned to the garden. The picture of Kona was placed back upon the wall. Time passed until the library area was as close to its original state as possible. Focus then on the livingroom area. Metarie started with her bow and armor, returning those items to their correct places. The bedding was removed and carefully considered as it was folded. A thorough look found all in order once more.

The kitchen was easier. The dishes were clean not dirty, needing only to be put away - Thank you, Lanya, she thought. A bucket was filled with hot water and cleanser. A mop was pushed across the hardwood floors, leaving the clean scent of beeswax and verbena. Standing in the doorway Metarie nodded and moved on to the next room. The shutters were raised letting the light fill the rooms. Windows were opened to let fresh air in.

The bedroom was less easy. Here memories crowded her mind and clamored for attention. Metarie collected discarded clothes and placed them in the ingenious invention the gnomes had created for washing clothes. The thick, down filled duvet was pushed to the side so that she could remove the sheets from the bed. A small, dark red stain was a reminder of the activities the night before.

Metarie balled up the sheets and put them with the other laundry, careful to treat the spot before adding the sheets to the wash. Taking up the duvet, she carried it outside and hung it over the line to air it. Outside, sprigs of lavendar were taken up to be placed beneath the bedding. The floor in the bedroom received the same treatment as the others until it shone in the light.

In the bathroom, she was an automaton - scrubbing the bath until nothing but white remained. By the time the gnomish device had finished, the bathroom gleamed. Wet laundry was carried outside and hung to dry. Childish laughter carried on the breeze, but Metarie paid it no mind as she hung Lucian’s pants on the line. Metarie stared at the clothing. Something threatened to overtake her, but she quelled it. That time was not now. Now, she needed to make more tisanes. Then, she needed to see the smithy about having the door repaired. After that, her garden needed attention. Metarie looked around her back yard. Yes, that was a plan. She would keep busy. Leaving the basket inside the back door, Metarie moved to the kitchen.

As before, she carefully brought out the ingredients she needed while water was placed to boil. Measurements were methodically calculated. Ingredients were mixed together and ground into a paste. Boiling water was added to liquefy the paste. A slim, ceramic pitcher, specially glazed, received the liquid, filling the pitcher by a third. Golden honey and agave were added to the mix and the mix was sealed. Once it cooled, Metarie would pour the tisanes into the individual vials she used to dispense the medicine. The vials were placed in a second pot of boiling water, boiled, and allowed to cool slowly in the water. Metarie returned everything to its place and surveyed her handiwork once more. There, on the table, lay Camulous' hat. Metarie stepped forward and swept the hat from the table, placing it upon her head. The door could wait. She had meant to see to her garden this day, and see to it she would.
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Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Wed Jul 23, 2008 1:19 am

Outside in the garden was less complicated. Here, she felt a sense of peacefulness return to her in the simple motions, sounds, sights, and scents. Here, she could sort through the experiences, feelings, and thoughts of the prior day. So much had happened. Metarie chose not to think about what happened with Idonir. Circumstance could have gone one way or the other. She was lucky to have retained her right to choose.

Metarie felt a little guilty about what happened. She had pushed the boundaries of common-sense and for what? A cloak and a staff. The staff had some magic within it, true. She had seen that for herself, but did that warrant… No, Idonir expected her to be something less than she was. His view of the world was skewed, but she was not right in taking advantage of it. Metarie decided she would say something to Camulous. He should be made aware of the full situation. She was partly culpable and she should admit as much.

Adjusting the hat on her head, Metarie sat back on her haunches and surveyed what she had accomplished so far. Each row was neat and orderly. Ladybugs glided here and there, keeping the garden free of pests. Metarie picked up the discards and took them to a compost pile. Her tools were taken back to the small shed she used and carefully cleaned and readied for another day. Everything in its place, so why then… last night?
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Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Sat Jul 26, 2008 12:30 pm

Metarie sat at her table. A warm cup of tea, a cure for all ills, sat cupped within her hands. She felt at peace here. She had once felt safe, but after Idonir the assumed safety of her home was now suspect. The door was thick, but the metal had given. Perhaps she would leave the door in its broken state as a testament to the reality of her complacency.

The question as to what happened to her last night preyed on her. Analysing provided only two possible answers. Either the connection had been real or the connection had been fabricated. She was not normally motivated by lust, therefore Everett's accusations on that count were silly. She was lonely, yes, but that was a state she had come to accept - or so she thought. Having others in her home now made her realize how empty and sterile her existance had been.

Metarie shook her head. She had been fine until she had opened herself to the Dreaming; it was there the connection occurred. Why? What made him so different? The only answer she could find to that question was the brand upon him. Was it possible for the brand to have done so much? Metarie doubted it. There had to be more, but he had left. The answers would never be known. She was alone once more unless... Metarie's hand fell to her belly. They had not taken precautions. In three weeks time she would know if she had quickened. She could find out by magical means, attuning herself to her body, but she did not want to.

Something else bothered her as well. The moment with Camulous, when he had returned the touch she had given upon his hand, the safety and comfort of being able to sleep beside each other - if she were with child... not that it mattered any more. After so many years, such notions were paltry and the stuff of foolish romances for which she had no time. She had given herself over to emotionalism and fantasy last night and the price to pay was high. She had been acting selfishly and Lanya had been put in danger, Everett had been right on that account. Now, the woman probably did not trust her, Camulous probably thought her base and beneath him, and her own view of herself - already tarnished by her past acts was marred even further.

Metarie stood and moved to the bath. She would go to work today after all.
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Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Tue Jul 29, 2008 12:16 am

Work.

At the hospital, she was too busy to feel or to be foolish. As a job, it was exhausting, rewarding, and heartbreaking all rolled into one. At the hospital, she was focused and knew what needed to be done; knew how to be.

Metarie tugged the door of her house closed until she would have to force it open. There was no point in locking the door, besides… what if Lanya returned. Metarie had left a very short note: “Gone to Work,” including a map of how to get from the house to the hospital in the hopes that Lanya could read just a little. Should the woman return, that is. Metarie thought she would. Lanya had said she would. Details seen to, door closed as well as could be, and dressed in her ‘uniform,’ Metarie turned her steps left toward Main Street and the Guard House. Unfortunately for Lanya, this meant Metarie would not happen upon her and the man who assaulted her.

The hospital was centrally located in comparison to the Justice Hall and Guard HQ and sat on the large main street that curved through Marn and led out of the town crossing the Ofriyu Mar. The walk would take her almost 30 minutes, but she preferred to walk overy hiring a conveyance of some kind. Kona, too, enjoyed the walk and loped by Metarie’s side in seeming contentedness. The city seemed as it always was. Today, only she was changed.

Metarie tucked her hands into her pockets, letting the courier bag she always carried settle by her side. She wondered what she would find at the hospital today.
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Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Thu Jul 31, 2008 10:45 pm

As her thoughts started to wander, Metarie paused. Turning, she looked back at the house. She did not feel safe today. Normally, she left the house with nothing but her courier bag. This contained a sketch pad, pencil, the box of healing draughts she had prepared, and a generic medical kit containing bandages, gauze, astringent, and salve. Proof of her identity and bashani were carried on her person, tucked in the front pockets of her pants to hopefully deter pickpockets.

Today, though, she thought she might include the syringes that remained and perhaps, it would not be remiss to carry the knife she had once worn. Metarie had always known the city could be a dangerous place, but until it directly impacted her she had not realized just how unprepared she was should that danger come to her. Certainly it is one thing to be prepared in one's home, expecting the worst. But, it was another thing altogether to view the streets where you grew up and had traveled for years as anything other than streets. An ounce of prevention...

Metarie bit her lip. To return to her home meant many things. On one hand, adding the knife and the syringes meant she accepted the reality that danger was closer than she had realized. On the other, it meant that she would rescind her decision to change herself and her life to be a Healer. A muscle jumped in her jaw and her brows furrowed. Somewhere within the city, she knew that people were being harmed by one another for various reasons. And she knew that she had made an oath to heal those she could. While the Guard's duty was to hopefully prevent egregious acts from occurring, hers was to mend the damage that came from them, if it were possible to do so.

Kona looked up at Metarie and whined slightly. What was his person doing standing around? This person usually moved with decision. Kona stepped forward and nosed Metarie's hand. Metarie blinked and looked down at the large dog, aware suddenly that she had stood on the sidewalk for several minutes, just staring at her home. Metarie smiled gently and patted the dog.

"Thank you, Kona." Metarie looked around. People walked down the street, most further down High Street, which ran through the downtown area. Even from this distance, Metarie could see guards standing at their posts by the guardhouse. Not all guardsmen were Idonir's, some were Hapnir's. Some people were good, some were bad, and some were misguided. And some... were healers.

Metarie turned on her heel and resumed her walk toward the hospital.

Thelonius Gant
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Re: ... nine

Post by Thelonius Gant » Sat Aug 02, 2008 11:13 pm

Whenever one saw Thelonius Gant in the morning he was staggering and today was no different. For Gant coming off night shift effectively meant starting tavern shift and thus the Gant seen during the day was usually slumped on the floor or stumbling towards a specific floor to slump on. However, today was slightly different as even though the smell of alcohol coming from him was strong enough to strip paint off walls he also happened to be bleeding profusely and limping.

For anyone who knew Gant (Which was essentially only Thelonius himself) this would have been odd as even though the man was a drunk he was a very accomplished drunk. He had the erratic drunken swagger down to an art but even if he were to fall he'd had so much practice at it that he usually managed to escape without so much as a bruise. Thelonius was good at falling and it was thanks to that Gant was not significantly worse than he was.

Blood was streaming down his face from a rather nasty looking gash on his forehead but that wasn't much of a concern, it was making his drink taste like blood every time he took a swig but luckily he didn't drink the stuff for the taste. The limp was probably just a sprained ankle and like the head wound it was something he normally would have slept off. However, the fact that he could no longer move his right arm was concern for Gant but this problem was eclipsed by the fact that he could still feel his arm, or to be more precise he could still feel the blinding pain coming from it.

And so Gant had decided that now was the time to use his emergency back up flask, an item kept for only the most dire state of sobriety. He couldn't remember what was in it exactly, though he has the distinct recollection using it to clear a drain earlier that week, but it seemed to be doing the trick and soon he was distracted from the stabbing pain in his arm by an intense burning sensation in his throat. Unfortunately it was also making him think that it would be a whole lot easier to just sit down and have a good long think about the entire situation for a while and his intended course of action. Gant had to resist that, he knew the dangers of thinking, and luckily he had a short enough stagger left till the hospital.

Gant didn't like hospitals, not because they were full of sick people but just because they were full of sick everything. Gant knew where he could stay to avoid running into any of the strange... things that had been allowed wander around Marn but the thing about the hospital was anyone was allowed in. Unfortunately the only other alternative was having someone back at the guardhouse look at him and he was much happier dealing with the unknowns in the hospitals than dealing with the very well knowns of the guardhouse.

So Gant pushed the door of the hospital open, stumbled inside and after a few failed attempts managed finally managed to explain the situation.

"Arm s'not workin'" Gant slurred to the world in general " Little help?"

Once Gant had finished "speaking" he turned ever so slightly and then he slowly folded in on himself. Several jarring metallic clanging noises later Gant was lying on his back in the middle of the hospital in no worse condition than he had been when he entered.

Thelonius Gant was good at falling.
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Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Sun Aug 03, 2008 1:34 am

The faint scent of grain alcohol, sharp and ugly, hit her first. The second scent was blood and seemingly quite a bit of it. Metarie's gait quickened as she neared the entrance of the hospital. Once there, she pushed open the door only to have it stop hard on something metal, which gave off a distinct and loud clang. More worried now then she had been, Metarie squeezed through the opening to find a guardsman down.

An soft oath escaped her lips. A healing assistant was already rushing over as well. Sharp-gazed, Metarie fixed a look on the assistant. "Get a few large orderlies so we can get him in a bed." The man was obviously the source of the two smells. He reeked. A quick visual assessment showed a gash to his forehead which seemed to be the cause of the blood. Head wounds tended to bleed profusely. How he obtained it might mean he had a concussion, but that would remain to be seen. The man was probably so inebriated that it would be hard to discern damage to his head from intoxication.

“Guardsman, can you hear me?” Metarie peered into his face as she dug a hand into the courier bag. Pulling out a swathe of bandage, she pressed it to the gash to slow the bleeding. With her free hand she began deftly undoing the buckles and straps that held his armor on. He’d be easier to move with it off and easier to assess. “Guardsman? What is your name?
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Thelonius Gant
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Re: ... nein

Post by Thelonius Gant » Sun Aug 03, 2008 4:30 pm

Thelonius wanted to sleep, it had been a long night and by now he really had deserved a break. After all, he'd been heroic today… well heroic or stupid but it was always a fine line. His recent involvement in actually doing good had made somewhat of an impact on Gant, so much so that it had actually inspired him to actually give a damn every so often. However, while Gant might have slightly appreciated the psychological impact of it all he wasn’t so crazy about the very physcial impact of a flight of stairs it had led too. He’d often heard a good deed was it’s own reward and while that still seemed immesenly stingey Gant would certainly have preferred it over cuts and bruises he’d been rewarded with.

He just wanted to close his eyes for a bit, just a few moments so he could gather his thoughts, but for some reason he thought was a bad idea… but then again it was a “good idea” that had gotten him into this mess so what did he know?

“Guardsman, can you hear me?”

Gant had to think about this for quiet some time before he finally to react realised that he could hear her. He opened his eyes slowly and was rewarded with the sight of a woman bearing down in him, not a common occurance by any measure but certainly one he objected to.

“Guardsman? What is your name?”

Gant didn’t know what was going on, he would have said his head was swimming but it was probably a lot closer to drowning, but all it took was the realisation that she was undoing the buckles of his armour before he jumped to a conclusion. He stared blearily up at the woman’s face but for some reason was unable to discern any detail. Not that detail mattered at this point, in fact detail might have killed the mood somewhat.

"Thelonius Gant” he grinned “An’ what's yours, darlin'?”

At this juncture Thelonius attempted to wink but just ending up closing both his eyes for a moment. It took him a few moments to reopen them and when he finally did he realised his head had fallen to the side and he was now staring at his arm. He couldn’t really feel it anymore and while it was somewhat of a relief to see it was still there it mainly served to remind him that the damn thing didn’t work.

"Hey, hey, hey..." he began slowly "M'arm still not fixed…. We'can do this later, I need me arm for... lifting things... and swording. S’important…”

He innefectually tried to bat her hands away with his good arm but gave up within second. He was just too tired, he just wanted to close his eyes again for a few moments. That was all he needed, just a few minutes and then he’d be good to go….

But something was wrong. Why couldn’t he think? And why was he speaking like an idiot? Sure, he’d drank a lot but it was a well known fact that Thelonius became more eloquent the more he drank, or at least that’s how he had always perceived it. So why was it that he could hear himself tripping over every word now? And how come everything was so fuzzy? He’d orginally assumed it was a result the pain in his arm that had been scattering his thoughts but he couldn’t feel that anymore. Something was very wrong.

“You know…I think I’ve one of those… head things you get from like… hitting …your head…” said Gant haltingly “…can’t remember what you call em…”

Gant didn’t bother trying to think of the word, instead deciding that he’d prefer to just close his eyes for a moment rather than impress the world with the extent of his verbosity. He just needed a few moments rest, everything would be probably be fine...
And anyways, if it all went a bit wrong it's not as if he'd ever actually realise that.
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Re: ... nein

Post by Ekire » Sun Aug 03, 2008 5:30 pm

Ekire disliked being injured. Even when the odds were against him, though they hadn't been tonight, which made it all the more irritating. He hated having to waste time regenerating when he could be eating. Out of the question to eat at the moment though, not with all the blood everywhere; the humans would notice. More guards would come. He couldn't risk more guards in this state.

Ekire wondered why the guard had been after him in the first place, after all he'd not been doing anything to offend the little humans besides standing there. The boss human had told him he would hurt someone important in the evening and, before Ekire could even find this person, a guard had been upon him. Ekire didn't like it at all. He felt cheated somewhat. Why had the guard hurt him? The guard didn't hurt anyone else. Ekire knew precious little of social grace but he knew if you did nothing the guard did nothing too. Ekire had been caught off balance.

Ekire felt his wounds beginning to close up, though he knew he couldn't stay hidden in an alley for long without being noticed. Ekire needed a safe place to recover fully, somewhere nearby. People were already coming close; Ekire was becoming desperate.

Ekire knew the area nearby, and knew that in a building somewhere close the little people came to get better. If he went there, perhaps he wouldn't look so out of place with his injuries. They let others in there after all.

Ekire adjusted his makeshift loincloth, knowing that if it fell off the little people wouldn't want him in their building, and strode out of the alley. He would do nothing, eat nothing, offend no one. He couldn't afford to.

Ekire travelled down the street and opened the door of the building, bending down to fit inside.
"Banish all doubt; you will die this night."

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Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Mon Aug 04, 2008 12:39 am

The emergency room of the hospital was efficient. Triage was the primary function – identify who needed immediate help and who could wait. The emergency room was comprised of an open area, where patients entered and were sorted, and rows of beds partitioned off by a series of curtains. The center of the room was a circular desk where the healers and assistants noted down the particulars of the patients. Two sets of doors led into the facility.

Five healers with magical abilities were on shift supported by ten healing assistants trained in non-magical aspects of healing and five administrative assistants who took down records of who entered the emergency room, why, and what steps were taken to heal them. Because of the magic restrictions, healing was limited first to mundane methods. Use of magic to heal patients in the hospital required sheafs of paperwork and follow-up meetings with government officials. Thankfully, most of those meetings did not require intervention by the Judges or Battlemages, although she had at more than one time had to go that far.

Two husky assistants came to Metarie’s side with a stretcher. Just as the pair arrived the guardsman cracked his eyes open and squinted at her. A slow leer, couched in blood, crawled across the left side of his face only. A small amount of drool became a spit bubble as he attempted to speak. Metarie concentrated on the sounds.

“Very good, Thent. Now I need you to stay awake for me. Just a little while longer.” A half-hearted attempt was made to keep her from removing the armor. Thankfully, the fact that his other arm did not move at all clued her in to the fact that there was an injury there. His pupils were exceptionally contracted, indicating a concussion might just be the case after all. “I agree with you, Thent.” Looking to the assistants she spoke again, “We’ll need a brace to keep his head stable before you can move him.” One of the assistants moved off immediately.

“Yes, Dr. Sehkhara.”

Concern suffused her features. Metarie lifted the hand holding the bandages against the cut on his forehead. Thankfully, the pressure had caused the blood flow to cease. Metarie leaned forward to peer back into Thent’s face. “Thent, listen to me. You have got to stay awake for me.” Metarie’s voice was as insistent and sharp as a drill seargeant’s. “Do you understand, guardsman? Tell me what happened to you.” Even as she spoke, she channeled healing magics through her body and to the hand that rested upon his forehead. “Answer me! Tell me what happened to you.” She would have to write a report on it, but she felt making sure a guardsman did not die in the hospital important enough to risk it.

For Gant, it was lucky the next visitor chose to use the other set of doors. Metarie was too involved to notice who or what entered, but others in the facility were not. The assistant bringing the brace to Metarie slowed his quick pace until he stopped a few steps from her. The man’s mouth dropped open as he gaped at the … thing that came through the doors. Others slowly stopped their work and complaining. For once, complete silence filled the room.

It was Rosie, the gnome, who finally spoke up. “Self-healing, low priority! Take a seat and wait your turn. The rest of you, get back to work!” For a small person, Rosie had a good set of lungs. The repercussions of a troll in the emergency room and seemingly being told it would be given service might or might not cause problems for the hospital later. Technically, trolls did not have a connection with the astral plane and as such were not considered a magical creature. Its self-healing ability was an inherent magical trait, but as a race it was not considered a magical being.
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Re: ... nein

Post by Ekire » Mon Aug 04, 2008 1:23 am

Ekire knew the revolted looks of the hospital staff all too well, he had become used to such receptions. They would not harm him though, and that's all that mattered.

After the little-little person told him to take a seat, which Ekire had, after many years, learnt was not literal, Ekire tried to move to the corner of the room, away from prying eyes. His wounds would take more time to heal fully, and that meant Ekire had to endure the shocked looks a little longer. Though this didn't bother Ekire per se, he was worried that if the guard did come, they would certainly know something was wrong from the horrified inhabitants of the building. Ekire wasn't going to hurt them, why did they fear him so?

Ekire became very conscious as to the size of the building, namely that it was far too small for a troll. Attempting to hide was pointless; the little people would continue looking shocked until he was ready to leave. Though there were lots of little people too busy to gawp at him, lots of little people running to and fro, bleeding, crying.

Ekire began to look at the patients and their injuries, measuring how bad they were in comparison to his own. One man had lost an arm and was sobbing. Another was surrounded by little people in silly clothes frantically using all kinds of magic and implements. To Ekire it was a pointless, almost insane affair. If these little people were going to die then let them die, there are many little people. What did it matter if one or two died? There are many. There will always be many. Ekire had been injured far worse and he was fine, these little people would probably be fine too.

As Ekire scanned the rest of the patients he became alarmed. There, on a table, was a guard's armour. Ekire's momentary solace was once more desperation. Had the guard followed him here? Was the place surrounded? Perhaps the little people had called the guard? Anger. Ekire felt betrayed. Once again he was in danger for no reason.

Ekire tried to look at the patient from across the room, but there were too many little people in the way. Ekire was forced to walk closer, mindful of stepping on the little-little person in his way. Amidst the clamour, Ekire caught sight of the man on the bed. He knew this man, he knew his injuries; knew why he was there.

At first Ekire felt rage inherent to his race, for this was the guard who had struck him. Ekire's first reaction was to strike the man, but as fast as he had walked forwards, fear now drew him back. Ekire hoped the guard had not seen him. Ekire wasn't ready to fight, he needed to rest.

Ekire was very aware of the suspicion his movements had caused. "Me no hurt!" Ekire tried to explain his intent. He just wanted to be left alone. "Me stay."

Desperation again, so much desperation. Ekire wondered if this would ever end, all the running, would he have to run like this forever? Hunger too, Ekire hadn't eaten this evening. Ekire briefly considered eating the guard, which amused him to some degree. Ekire snorted to himself, a form of trollish laughter, which seemed to startle the little people around him. He could eat all the little people in the building and still not be full. People tasted bad anyway; it was a last resort.

Ekire returned to the corner of the room, keeping his eyes trained on the guard. If it came to a fight he would be ready. He wouldn't be caught off guard by this little person again. Ekire could easily squash him while he was on the bed, but then the little people would throw him out and the other guards would come. No. No it would not be a good idea. Ekire would wait. Ekire was clever.
"Banish all doubt; you will die this night."

Thelonius Gant
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Re: ... nein

Post by Thelonius Gant » Tue Aug 05, 2008 1:12 am

By now Thelonius was pretty far gone and he had no intention of going back. After all surely he'd done enough by dragging himself to the himself to the hospital, all that was really left was for over paid professional to do the thing they were overpaid for. He didn't need to stay awake, he wasn't going to have to walk them through anything, so Thelonius kept his eyes closed.

Admittedly the ashrieking woman was making this just a tad difficult but as Thelonius spent a great deal of time in semi conscious state he had developed quite a talent for answering questions without having to think or concentrate.

"Got in a fight with a troll... he pushed me down some stairs." Thelonius muttered "...but yeah, you should see him."

Thelonius wasn't the best man with a sword but even so he thought he'd done a pretty good job carving up the troll. Of course the thing was massive so all he really had to do was swing and he was going to hit it and it had taken a while for it to realise what was actually happening but he was still rather proud. He'd heard a lot of nonsense about trolls being invincible and such but at the end of the day they bled just like anything else and that one would certainly be bleeding for quite some time. No, Gant wouldn't be hearing from him again soon.

"...Me no hurt"

Thelonius head was clearing now, perhaps leaving him in a mental state more akin to extreme intoxication than extreme intoxication and a head wound, but if he'd passed out completely he would have still recognised that voice.

"What?" Gant snarled as his eyes snapped open "Who no hurt!?"

He tried to sit up to look around but his hand could find no purchase on the cold hospital floor to help him up. It took Gant a few moments to realise that though his head may have cleared slightly he was still a complete wreck and it was probably not the best time to go looking for trolls because he might actually find one.

"It's 'ere ain't it?" said Gant as his eyes swivelled back to the woman "You gotta get the guard, it's dangerous."

Especially if there was a flight of stairs nearby.
You can't kill me, I'm immoral.

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Metarie
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Name: Metarie
Race: Elf

Re: ... nein

Post by Metarie » Tue Aug 05, 2008 6:59 am

Rosie, expecting to be obeyed, was surprised to find the troll had moved. Why it had moved was unknown, but then it’s proclamation it wouldn’t hurt anyone indicated people were becoming agitated again by its… no … Rosie peered at the troll… his presence. Rosie frowned, annoyed by the interruptions.

“You! Go push two beds out of a curtain alcove and put the troll in there. He needs time to recuperate and being stared at isn’t going to help anything.”

The assistant who had been called out visibly paled. “M-me?” Sharmon pointed a shaking finger at his chest. Rosie just fixed the assistant with a steely gaze. The assistant paled further and cast a gaze between the troll and the small, gnome woman. Apparently, Rosie was far more frightening as Sharmon moved out with alacrity to do as he had been instructed.

Sharmon left one of the beds. He thought it might suit the troll as a seat better than the more human-sized chairs in the waiting area. Pulling curtains around the area, he left an opening large enough for the troll to go through. The area was actually two alcoves combined into one.

“Me no hurt! Me stay!”

Sharmon nodded in what he hoped was a most sage manner. Unfortunately, his head continued to bob for a few seconds longer than necessary.

“Y-yes. Err, excuse me? Sir?” The man looked up at the large creature. “We have a temporary room available for you. If you would …” The troll snorted at him. Sharmon squeaked out the final words of his sentence, “P-please?” The word please had a certain sense of desperation in it as if to say “please don’t hurt me” instead of “please go in there.”

Metarie was rewarded by her barking orders and healing attempt. The man’s brows drew together in annoyance, even though his eyes remained closed.

"Got in a fight with a troll... he pushed me down some stairs." Thelonius muttered "...but yeah, you should see him."

Although slurred, the man’s words were easier to comprehend. “I see…” she murmured. That information would be captured and placed in the medical record. Until then, she thought the guardsman was safe enough to move.

“Me no hurt! Me stay!”

Suddenly the guardsman’s eyes popped open and a bloodied snarl crossed his face. Metarie put a hand on the man’s chest to keep him down. “He can be moved to a bed. Find a place on the other side of the room.”

"It's 'ere ain't it?" said Gant as his eyes swivelled back to the woman "You gotta get the guard, it's dangerous."

“The only thing I have to do is get you well enough to go home. You can file a report at the guardhouse later.”

Metarie was not going to have the ER suddenly become overrun with guards as well as people needing care. “This place is for those seeking medical attention. Now, Thent, lie still so that I can secure your head. Should you have a concussion we can’t have your brain rattling around in there, now can we?” Metarie smiled at the guardsman.

After wiping the blood from her hand, Metarie slipped a cool, gentle hand behind the guardsman's neck to carefully lift his head head high enough to slip the brace beneath his head. The brace rested around the neck and shoulders and went up around the head. Padding encircled the forehead, chin, and neck to help stabilise his head into one place. Once she had it in place, she fastened the brace around Thent’s head to keep him from moving it too much. That way damage would be mitigated until she had a chance to get him cleaned up and to properly see to him.



“Definitely the other side of the room, if you please.” Metarie looked up at the attendants as she sat back on her haunches. Rising smoothly to a stand, she picked up the chest plate and back plate that had been left as the attendants deftly placed Thent on a stretcher and lifted him up. An administrative assistant rushed over and gave them the bed number. Walking with the guardsman, she kept a hand on his chest.

“Now that you are a little more coherent, can you tell me where else you hurt?”
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.

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Ekire
Outsider
Posts: 12
Joined: Sun Aug 03, 2008 3:06 pm
Name: Ekire
Race: Troll

Re: ... nein

Post by Ekire » Tue Aug 05, 2008 3:23 pm

Ekire turned around and noticed little people rearranging furniture in the corner of the room. There was a lot of noise and commotion, which wasn't helping Ekire relax whatsoever. Ekire was becoming increasingly agitated, increasingly aware that this was a 'bad' situation. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This was risking too much, and Ekire understood risks all too well.

“Y-yes. Err, excuse me? Sir?”

Ekire circled around quickly, ready to kill anything that got too close. Ekire eyed the gibbering, timid little person in front of him. No guard, no uniform; no threat. Ekire had no idea what the man was saying; he was using too many big words, too much talk. All talk, these little people. The man was motioning to a gap in the wall that would keep Ekire out of sight. Ekire snorted at the man, sensing his fear.

“P-please?”

And this one too! This one was utterly terrified! They were all terrified of him, weren't they? They were all waiting for him to lash out, to smash them all. Ekire didn't particularly like this feeling of power, but then he didn't mind it either. Ekire knew he could be intimidating, and this stuttering wreck in front of him was proof of it.

"Me go there now," Ekire pointed at the alcove in the wall. "Me go hide. No come. No guard."

But this wasn't enough, Ekire would have to make sure the little person did as he asked. Words were not enough. Ekire placed his gigantic fists on the floor and moved his slobbering face right in front of the little person's face. Saliva from Ekire's grotesque mouth dripped onto the man's chest.

"No guard or you die, little one. Yes?"

Satisfied with the terror on the man's face, Ekire turned around and took several thundering steps out of sight, into the alcove. Everything would be ok. No guards would come. The guard on the bed wouldn't know he was there. No one would, except this scared little person. Ekire focused on his wounds; they were closing but still, the dark green of his torso was coated in sticky, drying red. He wasn't ready to leave yet.

Still too much noise, too much commotion. Though out of sight, Ekire could feel the people were still worried, wondering what he'd do next. Pressure was mounting, Ekire was beginning to lose his cool. What if the little scared person called the guard? The little scared person would die but then what? Ekire hadn't thought of the consequences. The guard would still be there. Little people were often stupid and did things like that. There would be many guards then, there would even be fire! Ekire grunted, as he often did when pressed into thinking. If guards came, Ekire would try to smash the wall and run out. If Ekire couldn't smash the wall, Ekire would smash the guards and run. If there were too many guards well, then Ekire would smash as best as he could. It would do for now.

But time was running out. Hunger and fear were making Ekire irrational and panicked. A troll's patience was limited. Part of Ekire still wanted to finish off that guard on the bed. He had hurt Ekire. It was becoming harder and harder to stave off anger, especially with the stress rising.
"Banish all doubt; you will die this night."

Thelonius Gant
Guardsman
Posts: 62
Joined: Sat Feb 16, 2008 5:47 pm
Name: Thelonius Gant
Race: Human

Re: ... nein

Post by Thelonius Gant » Wed Aug 06, 2008 12:18 am

“This place is for those seeking medical attention. Now, Thent, lie still so that I can secure your head. Should you have a concussion we can’t have your brain rattling around in there, now can we?”

Well at least I got one to rattle.... Thelonius thought to himself darkly. Yes, this was a place for seeking medical attention but creatures like that were the reason people needed medical attention. Admittedly there probably was no better place than the hospital to get beaten up by a troll but that was a bit of a moot point when you could stop that troll beating up anyone ever again.

He didn’t bother responding to the woman, by now he believed he probably would have more luck talking sense into the troll than getting her to listen to him, and instead decided to take matters into his own hands. Unfortunately for Thelonius though his mind may have narrowly avoided drifting off it seemed the rest of his body had gone ahead with out it. He was helpless now, completely at the mercy of whoever was nearby and while Gant wasn't exactly enamoured with his physician he had to admit that she was probably better than the Troll.

His head was lifted up briefly and though the sudden motion making Gant a more than a little disorientated Gant saw it, he would have had had to be a whole lot more than disorientated to miss something that huge. Now he realised now how uncertain he’d been before, how he’d thought that it might just have a little something to do with the head wound, the drink or good old fashioned paranoia, but now he could actually see the troll. It was as massive and ugly as Gant remember but not nearly as perforated as he'd left it. Gant only got a brief look at if before he suddenly found his head encased in some kind of bizarre headpiece but from what he was the troll was half way toward being fully healed.

The only comfort Gant could take in the sight of the troll was the fact it was not running towards him with it’s fists in the air. In fact the beast had looked almost innocuous, as much a troll could at least, and did actually seem to be listening to the doctors (Which probably made him a far more agreeable patient than Gant was) but for Gant this was somehow worse. A part of him almost would have preferred if the troll was running at him because at least then he’d know what’s going on.
Admittedly what would be going on then would be a horrible violent death but then again it was a very, very small part of Gant which would actually have preferred this, the rest of him completely happy to be confused and alive.

The next few moments were immensely unpleasant for Gant as he found himself being lifting off the ground far too quickly. His eyes spun in his head and he even briefly considered vomiting but decided against it as if any of the stuff he’d been drinking came up it would probably scald him. When he finally gathered his senses he was once again staring at the hospital's rather unsightly ceiling but this time he the entire this appeared to be moving.

“Now that you are a little more coherent, can you tell me where else you hurt?”

“Dammit woman, I’m more coherent than you are!” Gant snapped as the contraption around his head forced him to stare at the ceiling “This ain’t no civil dispute I’m talking about, that troll is a criminal! It’s hurt people, maybe even killed a few, and letting it in the doors is putting everyone in this damn place in danger. Call the guards, call one of the big guards, hell call that goalsworn blue ball if you have to, but if you don’t do something I promise you you’ll have blood on your hands!"

Gant stared at the ceiling a few moment as he considered the end of his impassioned speech.

"Figuratively and literally” he added after some consideration.
You can't kill me, I'm immoral.

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