[Infirmary]The Tide Rises High (Closed/PM for invite)

[Ndale Soromund]

Sometimes she felt she could not be around humans. They were specimens to be study not creatures that made any sense and yet she could not leave them alone. And now she was suffering the consequences of being able to empathize with their pain. She felt lost and though it was a comfort to have something known near it did her no good right now. It once more brought up her welling panic. A sudden tensing in her stomach and clenching in her throat, locking away all sounds. For a few moments she stood there stupidly, staring at nothing and holding the damp rag. Finally and stiff like a corpse her body was forced into motion by the sudden bustle in the building. During her stupor the controlled chaos in the building had doubled and now there were more helping but unlike her they moved about. Looking around in a frenzy of need something, anything, to do Ndale remembered her previous question to Elem and proceeded to grab a small bowl of water off the nearest table. Both items in hand she trailed in the general direction she remembered spying Elem go in. She did not find him though and instead found people grabbing at her, begging for immediate attention. Their faces, words and feelings seemed to be her own, threatening to drown her and she found herself once more standing and doing nothing. Her body itched to move, to flee but outside it was worse, so much worse. Still the foolish bird found herself going to the exact location she had been told not to. The courtyard was somehow better and worse. She had seen more disturbing things outside but to see everything piled up so...it was wrong. So very wrong. She wanted to retch again but didn’t have the strength. Ndale didn’t have the strength to do much of anything. The sight of all the bodies, animal, human and anything else seemed to slap her. Water sloshing and dipping the rag half-heartedly Ndale fled back inside, gripping the first person she could and forcing them onto a nearby bed. “I fix.” The young girl only continued to wail under Ndale shaky and sometimes painful cleaning of the wounds. They were light she thought. Not painful but frightening. Maybe. Should she get help? Turning in a circle she once more felt the imaginary weight press. She could clean them, watch them, bother them but she could not heal them. “I will find…fixer.” Patting the girls head awkwardly Ndale tottered off, looking a bit like a lost drunk. She needed Elem or someone like him to check the girl. It was then she seen the young woman rush by. A shock of white hair and a very red face. Assuming her to be someone in charge Ndales course changed route to follow the girl, her fingers reaching ot to grab at her shirt. “I need fixer checker!”

[Nira'lia]

OOCElem suggested I do another post before he does. ^^; Nira'lia almost jumped out of her skin when she felt someone grab at her shirt. With wide eyes, she found herself staring at the girl she had just been looking at. Now that she had no choice but to place her attention on Ndale, Nira'lia looked at her beautiful face and stared. The konti was slightly happy at the fact that the girl had taken hold of her shirt rather than touching her skin, for she didn't want her konti gift making it even more awkward for her -- even if she wasn't sure if she'd have the same vision from this pale-haired girl. "A fixer checker?" asked Nira'lia, puzzled. The konti did her best to force the blush out of her cheeks as she looked at Ndale. "What's a fixer checker?" The konti's eyes trailed from Ndale to the little girl she had been attending to. Judging from the bowl of water and blood-drenched rag, Ndale had been attempting to clean the wounds. The young girl was wailing, and Nira'lia couldn't help but wonder if it was from the fright of it all rather than the pain of her wound. "Do you need help with her?" blinked Nira'lia, and she rushed over to the girl. Nira'lia didn't know who Ndale was, but it looked like she needed help. The litte girl Ndale had been attending to had a gash on her arm, and Nira'lia stared at it closely. It was a wide wound, but not deep, it didn't even seem to need stitches. Her clothes were covered in blood, but... it didn't seem to be from her. Fortunately, most of the stray blood on her skin had already been wiped away by Ndale, giving Nira'lia a better view on the wound. She looked at Ndale and said, almost in a whisper so the little girl wouldn't hear, "It doesn't need stitches... just some cleaning and then some bandages. Truth be told, I think most of the blood on her shirt isn't from her." Nira'lia looked concerned, but she couldn't bring herself to ask the little girl where her parents were. She took some bandages and moved to wrap it around the girl’s arm, wailed even louder. The girl’s actions made it evident that the reason she was giving Ndale a difficult time was not because Ndale was doing a bad job. When Nira'lia was done bandaging the girl, she stepped away and looked at Ndale. The woman had approached her with a lost expression, which made Nira'lia wonder if she was fine with the whole situation. The konti herself was starting to feel exhausted, and the turmoil of it all was starting to weigh heavily on her mind. "Are you okay...?"

[Elem Bree]

OOCSorry about the delay, been a busy week.

With fresh blood soaked to his forearms and sweat pouring over his forehead, Elem quickly realized that this was one of the cases that would not be solved with the appearance of a Goddess. The man before him could still die easily without more aid. Stepping away, he filled a basin with hot water, quickly cupping his hands into it and washing his arms and hands. It stung his flesh, bringing his focus back to the forefront. Picking up some rags nearby, he wiped his arms and dabbed at his forehead as he sought out his superior.

He found Claira at the back of the Infirmary, behind several makeshift walls of hanging curtains. She was sterilizing surgical instruments, bathing them in flame and hot water before gently placing them on a clean square of cloth on the table before her. It was probably the only purely white cloth in the building at the moment. Stepping in, his initial panic and anxiety had been replaced with an automaton-like stoicism.

"Claira. I have a man whose leg is open. I did what I could but it is out of my hands. He will need.." Claira picked up the sentence as if Elem had been the one borrowing it with his mouth. "..surgery. Yes, Elem, I know. I am preparing the instruments now." She placed a razor sharp scalpel gently on the cloth before standing tall and approaching him. Even at a shorter physical stature, she seemed to tower over him as she spoke.

"Elem, we don't have time to speak of this fully and we must keep working, but I want you to stop trying to save everyone. Some people will die. We will do the very best we can, but we must realize that even Rak'keli's light can't make the line outside or the pile in the courtyard disappear. I want you to go around and check on the volunteers and the staff. Also, use your faith to sanitize and calm people. We will get to every person we can. Now run along. No arguments."

Her voice was clear and firm. It lacked the stern quality it had in lecture, but he knew that no arguments meant no arguments. He simply nodded and continued to wash blood off of his body as he left the temporary sanity of the makeshift preparatory room. Somehow the scene seemed more manageable now, as if Claira's words had an internal effect akin to the cold rag he had used earlier. His eyesight caught Nira'lia and Ndale together. Ndale looked as frazzled as he would expect but he found Nira'lia's manner pleasing. it was clear that the school was missing out on her talents as she worked on a young girl and tried to soothe the peahen at the same time.

His mind swam to the moment earlier when he had touched her. Recalling their first meeting, he chuckled to himself, imagining what she might have seen with Avalis' touch. It made the entire scene very surreal, both nauseating and euphoric, like closing time at the World's End. His shoes sloshed through the shallow water, its sound bringing to mind the idea of a broom. Yes, sweeping water sounded lovely. While moving to look for such an item, he heard a familiar voice to his right. Turning with no doubt a glazed look, his eyes focused on his fireheaded friend, Fiera.

He could see that the patient she worked on was clearly suffering from a dislocation, both due to her attempt at fixing it and the grimace on the man's face. He walked up, his eyes blinking rapidly. "Hello Fiera. Mind if I take a look?" Assuming she wouldn't, he whispered words to Rak'keli as he placed his hand on the man's shoulder, hoping to relieve his pain and panic. He was also feeling where the ball joint was in relation to the cup shaped socket. "You are close, Fiera. I think it is just a simple matter of leverage." He took the man's wrist in one hand and pressed his other hand against the far side of the dislocated ball. Looking at Fiera as he maneuvered the arm, he said, " Your technique is right on, but unfortunately your height defeats the required angle." Feeling the joint begin to move, he pushed straight down with his weight, a slight dull thump putting the shoulder back.

The patient was out cold, drool running down his cheek. "Sorry, Sir." He put his head to the man's chest. Hearing it beat and feeling it rise, he nodded.

[Fiera]

“Of course not” She replied, watching carefully as Elem placed his hand – the one with Rak'keli’s mark on it – on the shoulder of the patient, uttering words that held no meaning to Fiera. Such faith was not a common sight. Just as Elem finished relocating the shoulder, Fiera heard a moan from behind her. The man with the broken thigh bone was staring at the ceiling, eyes glazed over in pain. She mumbled a reassurance to him then turned back to her first patient. Thanking Elem for his help, she sought out a bandage. Not the cleanest, but it would have to do. Boiling some water over a fire stove outside the building, she added a few crushed yarrow stalks that she picked from the garden. Fiera kept adding the yarrow until the infusion became a deep shade of yellow. Finally, she filtered the liquid into a jar. This concoction would control the bleeding and also keep the wound clear. Since learning the recipe in class, Fiera had used it consistently to disinfect the cuts she received while hunting. Clutching at the still-hot jar of liquid and a few bandages, she headed back to her corner. To her disappointment, most of the lacerations had bled heavily since she cleaned them. Her first patient had already awoken from his stupor and looked less in pain than earlier. His cut was quite minor compared to some of the others and so she moved on to the woman. She was also the recipient of a badly twisted ankle, although that would have to wait for the moment. Fiera mopped up the excess blood and soaked part of the bandage in the yarrow infusion, placing it directly on the woman’s forearm – where her cut was. The white cotton turned red almost immediately in response to which Fiera added a few more layers of bandages. Satisfied with her work, she moved on to the next patient, treating his head cut in a similar fashion. After bandaging all the open wounds, Fiera moved to examine the broken thigh bone. She left the Yarrow infusion in view of those treating cuts. Bruises had turned the area a stormy colour. Luckily the bone hadn’t punctured the skin, but it had caused a lot of damage, nevertheless. Prodding lightly with a finger around the bruising, Fiera confirmed that a few nerves had been impaired. She had never attempted to heal a broken bone but theoretically knew what had to be done. First, she would need a splint. A wooden stick would do, but preferably something that wouldn’t chaff. Binding the bone tightly would prevent it from moving, thus making the injury heal faster. Outside she found a broken branch. Straightening the leg and using another bandage to wrap around the thigh, she cheerfully reassured the patient yet again. After one layer of bandages, Fiera placed the branch on the outside of the thigh, including it in the wrapping.

[Ndale Soromund]

She had watched the other woman in silence. Odd feelings pulsing through her. A sense of relief mixed with the same feeling of overwhelming pressure she had felt all day. Somewhere in the recess of her mind though she felt a twinge of interest in the pale woman facial colors. It seemed that every time their eyes met her cheeks tinged red. But with her current mood she could not even work up a proper curiosity or urge to do whatever it was she needed to do. But for Ndale the woman’s words stuck into some part of her brain and she felt her lips twitch into a small that she never seemed to be able to rid herself of. Though this one was probably more of a grimace. Ignoring the woman’s question she first turned to the little girl. If the blood was not hers it was her maternities blood then. Her head swung to face the woman who had helped her. “She does leave now? Or sleeps? Who watched them? The fixed humans I meaning.” Ndale did not want to answer the Konti’s earlier question. She had no desire to dwell in her own thoughts. She would find more people to clean and make the little human find a bigger human to care for her. Then she would…she would what? Her hands clenched and unclenched oddly, the rag dropping to the floor and she quickly bent to pick it up. Trying to focus she spoke slowly, forcing her mind clear of everything save for the words she wished to speak. And parroting the Konti's earlier words she spoke as if learning for the first time. “You are…okay? If yes then maybe I will clean and you will be the fixer-checker for the humans?” Turning away abruptly she put her dirty rag in the bucket and rung it out, a nausea welling up in her at the way it was all pink. She would scrub humans all day and still they would be pink. Red and pink would leak from them and they would go into the pile of humans. It would grow larger and larger still. Her hands slapped to her face, rubbing it roughly before turning to the little girl who had finally stopped crying. The small one looked to the Konti and Ndale found herself mirroring that look. It was a look that said all too clearly, ‘what do we do now?’

[Nira'lia]

Nira'lia saw that the pale-haired woman chose to ignore her question. The konti pushed it aside. If this person didn't want to speak about it, then it was unnecessary. Instead, Nira'lia listened intently to her questions about the patient. She spoke in broken common, and Nira'lia was having a difficult time understanding the words that she put together. "Yes, she has to leave now. There are a lot of people and we need the space." Nira'lia knew that her words might seem harsh. The child seemed to look like she needed someone to be with her -- but who? There was nobody by her side. Who even brought her there? The possibility of a passerby simply bringing her to the infirmary was present. Nira’lia realized that she’d have to look to the girl’s past to see what had happened. "Yes, please... you can clean the wounds and I can... uhm, check, and then maybe fix their injuries,” said Nira’lia to Ndale. As Ndale rung out the rag, Nira'lia put her focus back on the little girl. A blank stare came upon Nira'lia's face as she reached into the little girl's chavi. Considering her years so far, her chavi was not vast. Aside from that, Nira'lia was only looking for the minutes preceding the present. Visions of the storm flooded her mind. She saw the flood, she saw people panicking. And then... she saw hands enveloping the little girl, getting her out of harm's way as a tree fell to the street. There was mayhem, the girl was crying, and the old man screamed in pain. Nira'lia went through the images, looking for who brought this child to the infirmary. Then she found it. There was a young woman who was screaming for help as she asked people to help her ‘father’ and ‘Kara’. This woman had brought them inside the infirmary and screamed that they get attended to immediately before being led out to the street forcibly to wait for them. Nira'lia returned to the present. She pushed the visions aside and saw that Ndale was looking at her with a questioning look. "I know who she came with... go ahead and clean some wounds; I'll be right with you. Let's go, Kara." She took the child by the hand. The child looked at her, confused at why she knew her name. Nira'lia ignored her puzzlement and led her towards the street to look for that familiar face. Nira’lia didn’t know where the elderly man in the child’s memory was, but she assumed he was still being attended to. Once she found the woman, she'd get back to Ndale.

[Elem Bree]

Elem could feel a tightening in his shoulders and neck. His eyes already felt like raw sacks of salt in their orbits. He needed a moment, the chaos and horror of the scene beginning to set in. His feet sloshed through the water, now dark from blood and dirt. He moved out to the courtyard, wiping the sweat from his brow. Being a healer required that one had a strong sense of empathy, giving them the tools needed to understand another person. The price was not being able to withdraw from the pain and suffering. He could feel emotions worming their way through his chest until they oozed from his eyes, making them anything but dry.

There were only corpses to witness his lamentation, their juxtaposed bodies in a haphazard pile only bringing gulps of air and plentiful tears. Some were not even given the decency of closed eyes, their fixed, drying orbs staring deeper into him than any woman could. Taking a deep breath but not stifling his overwhelming sadness, he stepped to the pile, examining the heap of silenced dreams and ambitions. His new task would be to pull each corpse to the higher and drier walkways lining the courtyard. The first was a young man from the University. He couldn't recall the man's name, which sorely aggravated him. He did remember seeing the departed as he made his way to classes.

Stepping behind the cadaver, he hooked him beneath his arms, the flesh already softened from decay, the sun and the water. The smell sizzled in his nose, bile crawling up his throat. Once he placed him on his back in the shade, he placed the dead man's arms at his sides,rolling his eyelids shut. The nameless sorrow hung on Elem's back like a wet blanket. All he could do was cover his own face with his palm and weep. After a few moments of this, the sounds of the Infirmary brought him back. Sniffling, he placed his hand on the cadaver's forehead.

"What could not be healed, let now find rest.
A life once lived becomes now death.
May your soul find solace among your kin.
May the Gods embrace you at the origin."

One by one, bodies were brought to the same walkway to join their brothers. Each was lamented for and prayed over in the same fashion as the pile became smaller.

[Fiera]

She worked with an emotional detachment more fierce than that of her normal composure. Fiera cared only for these people in the literal sense, other than that, they held little meaning to her. Only when she had straightened up from her patient did Fiera notice she was shaking from the cold. Her boots were filled with water and the loose trousers she wore were wet to the knee. In the courtyard, she emptied her boots of water. The amount of dead surprised her, in a less than pleasant way. There were so many, piled on top of each other on some cases to make room for more dead, so grotesque in their passing. Tipping her head to the side, she watched Elem curiously as he crouched amongst the dead. For a while, she couldn’t understand what he was doing but as his words reach her ears, Fiera sneered. There isn’t any point, Elem, she thought, lamenting these shells; their owners are far away now, you might as well be talking to stone. Inside again, she found her yarrow infusion, a moderately clean damp rag and went to clean more wounds. Dried blood coated her hands and, despite the chilled morning, a layer of cold sweat glistened on her forehead. The exhaustion was overpowering, but every time she felt the need to sit down, Fiera would glance at one of the other medics. They all managed to keep themselves upright, and so she wouldn’t give in. The day wore on as Fiera methodically cleaned, disinfected and bandaged wounds, stitching if needed. It became almost automatic and she floated into her own daydreams and thoughts. She longed for the stillness of the woods in which she hunted; she longed to stretch her legs. A child this time, funny that, in all her patients this was the first child. Small, as expected, but gazing at her defiantly from his place at the foot of a bed. Fiera managed a small smile, her head aching and shoulders stiff, “what can I do for you?” “Have you seen my mommy?” He pleaded with her. Fiera hadn’t at all expected the question. “I’m not sure, what does she look like?” “She has curly black hair and green eyes. She has a mark here from a burn,” the child indicated to his forearm. Fiera felt her patience waning, what had she expected? Despite his accurate description, it would take time to find this woman. She might be dead or dying. There was no time to look through the bodies outside for her. A brilliant idea occurred to her, a way to possibly solve all their problems. “Look, child. I don’t know where she is. If you are sure she was in here, follow me as I help these people. You can help me heal them, and if you see your mommy on the way then good. I could use a helping hand”

[Paragon]

Adventurer's Loot Nira'lia's Loot : Nira'lia Skill XP Reward Medicine +1 Investigation +1 Leadership +1 Lore: Location: The Infirmary, Elem's Intimate Moments, Using Divination to Reunite Items or Consequences: Nil Fiera's Loot : Fiera Skill XP Reward Medicine +2 Herbalism +1 Philtering +1 Wilderness Survival +1 Lore: Yarrow Healing Properties Items or Consequences: (The Wilderness Survival was for using the branch as a splint.) Elem's Loot : Elem Bree Skill XP Reward Investigation +2 Medicine +3 Leadership +2 Observation +1 Lore: A Dream of Rak'keli, Separating the Dead from the Living, Properties of Ginger Root, You Can't Save Everyone, Calling on Rak'keli Items or Consequences: Nil A shame this was cut short, but great work. Elem and Ndale: If you want gradings, PM me. I haven't posted them since neither of them have even been on the site for 2 months. Fiera, just remember you're a Kelvic, and thus an animal. It comes across that you're writing her as a human often. Beautiful writing though! - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.