-= 11th of Spring, 498 AV =-
- Afternoon -
It... was a long day. This, 'important' patient came. He dragged on and on about how important he was, and how critical he got himself the best. ...And how angry he was to be here instead. If he was so important, why was he poisoned with such a simple poison? All his talking was just making it worse. "You need bed-rest, not a miracle salve." "I can afford the good stuff, I'm an important person." Reaver sighed again, there he goes spreading it once again. I suppose it was the perfect poison for him. Reaver rummaged through his things a moment, to give himself time to think. He picked up an empty bottle. "I'll be back with your cure, just wait here." He opened the door, and shot a glare back as he left one more warning. "No talking." Slamming the door behind him, he walked a bit away. He sighed, knowing full well he couldn't do a thing for the man. Even if he could, he recognized the poison, and he didn't want to make her less comfortable. That man is annoying anyway, I'll bet the city moves on without his 'important' business. He filled the bottle with water from the river. It stank, it upset the stomach, and it left a burning sensation at times. Just like real medicine. He brought it back in, and handed it to the man without a word. He looked to be in agony, even before he drank it down. "Gah, it tastes like lake-water! What is this crap?" "Good medicine always has drawbacks." He continued to complain. It worked it's magic fairly quick, and he didn't go quietly. When it was done, he decided the body would be a waste to throw out. He locked him in his chest, the coffin he had the man laying upon. A present to himself, for a rainy day.
- Night -
Reaver decided that he needed to study, but not medicine tonight. He looked to his coffin, and sighed as propped himself up against it. With plenty of effort, he pushed it. It slowly made it's way back against the wall. He pulled out his pen and ink, and drew his magic circles once again onto the floor, reinforcing the lines he had drawn there so many times. It was a calm night, tonight. The waves wouldn't interrupt and ruin his circle tonight. He looked around, and decided his medical notes would be a fine place to start. The medical notes were placed firmly into one side, and himself on the opposing one. He focused, and made something fun.
The directive was simple, When you hear a number while open, turn to the first page, turn that number of pages. He taught it how to tell when it was opened. He taught it what pages were, and (mentally-speaking) how to turn to the first page. He taught the book numbers, and how to count to three-hundred, quickly. It will count from it's first page, and continue from there. He knew it would need to redo that count every time. Perhaps it would let him add pages, though he hoped three-hundred would be enough. He taught the book how to stop on a certain number in the sequence. He then moved to the astral body. He set the cover, so it could tell when it was open or closed. He set all the pages, and found he only had two-hundred and thirty seven pages. He shrugged, it shouldn't matter. He then moved to the outside cover. He hoped his leather-bound book's leather binding would work as ears, and so he taught it how to hear. He also taught it the sounds of each of the numbers as well... a time-consuming process. He taught it to turn to it's first page, that was quick. He taught it to turn pages, but he put effort into it. He taught it how to start off, how to turn all the pages in the middle, and how to end on a certain page. That took a while as well. He looked to his wall, light was cracking through the walls. He got up, walked to his book and picked it up, it appeared the day had been passing him by.
-= 12th of Spring, 498 AV =-
- Morning -
Reaver set his book onto the coffin. As he did so, he heard something. He listened, a knocking could be heard from his door. Great, perhaps they are here for the 'important' man? I should have thrown out the body I suppose. He regretfully moved to the door, and with a grunt slid it open a crack. He looked out, and didn't see anyone. He looked down, and a familiar set of eyes was peering back at him. "Oh, welcome." He slid the door open. He bowed, as over-the-top as he always does. "I was thinking about your mother yesterday. Did you remember seeing an annoying man who talks too much recently?" He stood and stepped outside. Perhaps the smell of death on the docks was common, but it was normally fish. He decided it would be better to take the conversation outside, rather then inside. Kneeling down, he decided to find out why she was here. "And before I forget, what brings you here today?" He looked to her elbow, it was being held tightly, making her lower-arm somewhat pale. |