Solo It's Not A Loss

They're all faced with a difficult decision.

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 1st, 2012, 2:16 pm

512 Fall 4th

Nira’lia had flipped through her sister’s book, reading up what she could find about the local medicinal herbs of Sylira. She couldn’t find anything of much use, seeing as that the book was still largely incomplete and the plants listed down were not very potent. The Konti would be able to find a number of them if she tried, but she needed something more powerful. She needed a solution to the sickness which wouldn’t leave their camp. She realized that she had been going through the same pages for days and nights now, but she acted like she still had the chance of finding an answer.

All around her, people were setting up camp. The skies were starting to get dark and a few squires were building up a fire. Nira’lia sat just outside her tent as she watched those around her. She was able to recognize which ones she had diagnosed with the plague a few nights ago, and she could see that they were going on as per usual. For some reason, their sickness was taking a long time to develop into something more serious. Colds and coughs would stay as is, raging fevers occurred, but she had yet to see a person who was approaching death. Of course, this was a good thing, but it also served to confuse her further.

She would have thought that the situation was getting better, but the mundane symptoms wouldn’t leave completely. It didn’t seem like a normal plague, if it was one at all.

Setting the book down to her side, she realized that she should go check on Wrenmae. Zan might be getting bored as well, and she always liked talking to the quirky little familiar. Wrenmae had been unconscious for days now, and a group of squires were dutiful enough to get him from one place to the other. She assumed that he was being placed on the carriages that were used for the other sick people who were no longer strong enough to walk or ride on their own.

She walked towards the direction of Wrenmae and the other more sick men. It was on the other side of the camp, although the walk wasn’t too far. Finally, she spotted him still lying on one of the carriages, she was about to approach his unconscious form when a squire suddenly pulled her aside. With a surprised gasp, a vision floated before her eyes as she had no choice but relive the young squire’s most precious memory.

Once the vision cleared, she looked at the squire with a puzzled look. His face was in a panic, and he was sweating profusely, as if he had been running around. When he finally spoke up, she realized that was indeed the case—he had been searching the camp for her, considering she was one of the more experienced medics around.

“Brill needs your help… he’s… I don’t know what’s wrong with him; I think it’s his leg. Please, you have to come with me!” he managed to sputter out in-between ragged breaths.
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 1st, 2012, 4:32 pm

Nira’lia stared at him and quickly took in the urgency in his voice. The young man was not clear with what was going on, but she assumed it would be much easier for him to just show him.

‘Brill’ was a familiar name to her. She remembered him as the squire who had suffered a nasty wound to the arm just a few days after leaving Zeltiva. There were deep, gashing, and open wounds that ran from his elbow up to his hand. It had started off as a meaningless brawl with one of the other men, but due to unforeseen circumstances, he had roughly fallen against a badly cut tree stump. Splinters had dug deep inside his skin, and Nira’lia had spent almost a full hour taking them out.

She hadn’t seen him since, not even on the night when the men of this camp had brought themselves forward for inspection. The Konti had assumed that he had been travelling with another division of the contingent all this time.

While she wondered about what had happened, she followed the man back to where Brill was staying. It turned out that he was one of the sick ones being moved by carriage during the day. He had been laid on the ground when Nira’lia saw him.

He was wrapped in a sheet of sweat, and his whole body seemed to be squirming in pain. A tourniquet had been placed on his right elbow, just above the myriad of wounds on his arm. The Konti went pale when she saw the unhealthy color of his arm. The wounds looked terrible, even though they should have been healing nicely. She remembered she had sanitized them with Rak’keli’s divine power, and she blamed herself for not actively seeking him out after that night she had treated him. If she had made sure to keep his wounds clean, this most likely would not have happened.

“Please give him some air,” she said, her voice determined as she gestured for the men to step aside. They had been looming over their friend with concerned faces and they quickly obeyed Nira’lia’s request. As they cleared out, Nira’lia knelt down beside Brill and further inspected his arm.

He had been placed on a bedroll, and it was dirty from his blood. It was clear to the eyes that his injury was heavily infected. Almost automatically, the Konti cringed at the sight. Even though she expected it, she placed her hand on his forehead and instantly saw that he had a raging fever. The wounds on his arm emanated an awful stench, a fact that only worried her further. It was apparent that the blood on his arm had gone bad.

“Brill, can you hear me?” she asked. Her voice was soft and gentle, but she said it loud enough to be heard. The young man was muttering something under his voice. They came out as garbled words that were unintelligible by anyone around. She looked up at the other squires and asked, “When did this start? I mean… could you still speak to him earlier?”

They looked sheepish. Finally, the one who had brought Nira’lia to Brill spoke up. “We found him like this… he had on the carriages the whole day, with the rest of the sick. Brill already looked horrible before we started our travels this morning, but he could still speak. He could still stand up. We told him to get himself checked, but… he said he was fine… really, he did.”
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 1st, 2012, 7:17 pm

She wanted to tell him that even if Brill had said he was alright, if he clearly didn’t appear to be, that they should have forced him to approach a medic nonetheless. The Konti was frustrated. It wasn’t the first time that she had seen a person refuse to ask for assistance, and that had always been something which she simply could not understand.

Nira’lia wanted to yell at them, but this wasn’t the time or the place. The Konti examined the wound further. It was a dire situation, and the expression of utter worry was evident on her face. The other squires watched her and could sense the urgency.

“What should be done?” one of them asked. Since she had been deep in thought, she was startled by his voice. Looking up at him, she listened to him speak. “He’s… he’s going to make it, right?”

The Konti took a deep breath. This was going to be difficult to say.

“We need to amputate his arm,” she said. It surprised her how direct she had been able to say that. Brill wouldn’t be able to weigh in on his own, but judging from their reactions, the others knew how much of an impact that would make.

“Can we not, uhm…” one of them started. He shifted uncontrollably between his two feet. “Can we not feed the bad blood to the leeches? That usually helps infections, yes?”

She shook her head and gestured towards Brill’s arm. “He has lost too much blood, I’m afraid. The infection is spreading, and his whole body is suffering. It has to be done… otherwise I highly doubt he would make it through the night.”

Even if they wore dejected faces, it appeared that she had been able to convince them. The Konti knew that the Knights had their source of medical supplies; she had borrowed them a few times now. She was sure that they had surgical tools with them. If she were lucky, they had potent anesthesia or sedatives as well.

“I will be right back… please don’t move him,” she told them. In a rush, she stood up and practically ran towards the carriage that she recognized as the one that carried the medicinal supplies. On her way there, she witnessed the number of other sick men. They looked much more horrible than they did a few days back. Then there was Wrenmae, who lay unconscious but otherwise looked healthier than the rest of them. Strange, she thought. He didn’t seem to be growing ill. Considering that a hefty number of the sick had contagious diseases, and seeing that Wrenmae was vulnerable in his state, it came to her as odd that he seemed much too healthy.
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 2nd, 2012, 2:55 pm

When she finally reached the carriage that held the supplies, she started to rummage through the number of boxes, looking for the tools that she needed. Most of the materials were those which could be brought around conveniently, meaning that she was well aware that she wouldn’t find first class materials. These were supplies that were meant for a travelling group, or worse, tools that were meant to be used in the heat of a battle. They were nothing near as ideal as those that could be found in a city infirmary.

Finally, she found a surgical kit. It had been used before but she could see that the materials in it were sanitized. There was a bone saw in it; one that she knew was used for amputation. It was just what she needed. However, before she rushed back to Brill, she continued to rummage through the boxes of medicine.

There were a lot of first-aid medicines there, including potions, elixirs, and tinctures. It frustrated her to know she couldn’t find anything in there that would make the process less painful for Brill. While she realized that the thought was simply wishful thinking, she refused to give up. Finally, she came upon a box that had a sponge-like material in it and jars of foul-smelling liquid.

“There!” she whispered to herself. It was a soporific sponge, and she knew that it was used for the purpose of putting patients to sleep when necessary. She was not aware what the liquid was, but if it had been packed with the sponge that meant it was a sedative. It only made sense to her.

The Konti grabbed a sponge and one of the jars and packed it with the surgical kit. Hurriedly, she jumped off the carriage and rushed back to Brill. At this point, more people had crowded around Brill. Some were genuinely concerned, while the others seemed eager to see the surgery. Nira’lia felt her insides lurch. She didn’t want an audience.

She had never amputated a limb on her own before. Nira’lia had seen it done, especially in Zeltiva when she had worked in the Infirmary during the terrible storm a few seasons past. She had assisted the more skillful doctors and she was aware of the process, but that was about it. While she was now confident enough in herself to do the surgery at the moment, that did not mean that she appreciated all these watchful eyes.

Besides, she knew that Brill wouldn’t appreciate it as well.

“I only need two people…” she said adamantly. Nira’lia pointed at the one who had brought her here, and at the person standing beside him. “The rest of you will have to leave. I hope you understand.”

“Have you done this before?” inquired one of the men she asked to leave. He looked skeptical as he looked at her from head to toe. The man chose not to hide the doubt in his expression in any way. “You look too young to be a doctor.”

‘I’m a Konti, of course I look too young.’

“I’ve done this before,” she told him. She chose to hide that she hadn’t done this on her own before, but she saw no point in making his doubt worse. The Konti started to take out the items that she needed, and blinked as she recognized an iron tool. It had a long handle and a small spatula-like head. At that moment, she realized she had forgotten something. Swiftly, she started to look around. To her luck, another fire had been set nearby. Looking back at the group surrounding her, she said. “We need to move him over there, near the fire. Quickly now, please.”
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 2nd, 2012, 5:46 pm

The group helped move Brill closer to the fire. The whole time, the Konti made sure to guide them. She told them where he should be held as to not cause the blood to go further rushing to his arm. There was practically no color left in his face at that point. Nira’lia would have asked him to attempt to move his fingers, and she would have prodded points on his arm to see if it was still usable, but the poor squire was much too unfocused on the present. He continued to mutter illegible words that nobody in the area could understand.

“I think he’s begging for us not to do this…” whispered a voice. It wasn’t directed at Nira’lia, so she chose to ignore it. But she realized that the stranger was right. Brill appeared to be repeating the same phrases over and over again, but the words that stood out the most were ‘sword hand’.

Once Brill was settled near the fire, Nira’lia asked those who didn’t need to be there to leave. They looked hesitant and it took a while for them to finally concede. Finally, the Konti asked her two aides to position themselves near Brill’s head. After asking for their names, she found out that the squire who had led her to Brill was named Red, and the other one was named Drake.

“You have to hold him down. Don’t let him make any sudden movements,” she instructed. With that, she took the sponge out and opened the jar of strange, clear liquid. When she had soaked the sponge with the liquid, she asked one of them, the one named Drake, to take it from her. It smelled distinctly like medicine and alcohol. “Put it to his nose, it should keep him asleep…”

Drake followed her orders and put the sponge right under Brill’s nose. Brill relaxed his breathing and his garbled words slowly drifted off to nothingness. The creases of pain on his forehead smoothed out, and so did the rest of his body. Reaching forward, Nira’lia checked his eyes to make sure that he was truly unconscious. Once she confirmed that this was the case, she tightened the tourniquet around Brill’s arm and finally reached for the bone saw.

That Konti took a deep breath. She was well aware of how losing a limb was not something to be taken lightly, especially for someone who was dreaming to be a knight. Now that she thought about it, the Konti remembered the memory she had seen through Brill’s eyes. His happiest moment was when he was finally squired. He had been more than excited to have the chance to finally learn how to use a sword and a shield, and to rise into the ranks of the Knights Syliran.
Last edited by Nira'lia on November 2nd, 2012, 7:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 2nd, 2012, 6:43 pm

The two teenagers who were holding down her patient looked at her with puzzlement. They could probably sense the hesitance in her, and she scolded herself inwardly. She needed to be decisive and adamant about this, just like the doctors and healers she had assisted in the past. They knew when to make a judgment and did not hesitate when necessary.

Brill would wake up and realize that he had lost an arm, but he would also be alive. That’s what Nira’lia told herself. He had probably thought that if something such as this was going to happen, it would have happened at the heat of the battle. And now, he was losing an arm because of a playful duel with one of his comrades.

“Why do we need to hold him down?” asked Drake. He was looking at the sponge that he had held to Brill’s nose. “The medicine is supposed to keep him unconscious, yes?”

“I don’t know how potent it is…” admitted the Konti. There had been nobody around the carriage when she had fetched it, and the other healers and doctors were nowhere around. Even if they were, she doubted anybody would be able to identify the unlabeled liquid. Nira’lia just hoped that it was both a sedative and analgesic. “Also, sometimes they don’t work as strong as they need to. The pain might wake him up; his body might act on its own and struggle… so you have to keep that from happening.”

Nira’lia examined his arm to figure out where it had to be cut. The infection ran up from his hand and around his lower arm. The hand itself appeared to be dead and useless. Upon closer inspection, it could be seen that the infection had yet to reach his elbow. They could at least salvage that and cut of his arm right under it. He’d still have his joint, and that would make it easier for him to use a fake arm.

The Konti took another deep breath. “Here goes.”

Drake and Red him by the shoulder and torso, and Nira’lia brought the saw down and started to cut at the skin under his elbow. She needed to do it as quickly as possible to avoid as much blood loss. The saw cut at his skin. With every pull that she made, it went deeper. It was tougher to cut through the tendons, but that signified that she was getting closer to the bones. Red looked like he was about to throw up, and his companion gave him a scolding glare.

Brill seemed to stir. Startled, the two teenagers held him down tighter, but it turned out that he wasn’t going to wake up soon. The sponge soaked with the unlabeled liquid seemed to be doing its job. Her mother would have scolded her for using something that she couldn’t identify, but she had no other choice. Besides, if it had been stored with the medical supplies and was packed with the soporific sponges, she was sure it was safe to use for the situation.

When Brill moved again and stifled groans came from his mouth, Nira’lia seemed to panic. “Please hold the sponge to his nose,” she told them quickly. At that point, the saw had hit his bone, and she knew that she had to put more force into it. But she was closer; the surgery was going to end soon. The Konti started to cut harder, grinding the saw against his bone. It took longer than she expected, and at that point, Red was completely pale.

The sound of the saw grinding against bone was unbearable for her two squires, and Nira’lia too had to push away the sickening feeling. Finally, she had gone past the bone and had cut through the rest, finally severing his limb from the rest of his body. Quickly, she placed the saw aside and wrapped the arm in cloth.
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 4th, 2012, 4:35 pm

“What are you doing!?” exclaimed Drake.

Nira’lia had taken hold of the iron mechanism. Drake seemed to recognize it, and he realized why the Konti had asked them to take Brill closer to the fire.

“Cauterization… we’re going to close the amputation this way,” she replied as she stabbed the iron at the fire. The flames sizzles around it as the iron heated up. The expressions on both of the squire’s faces were indiscernible, which Nira’lia found slightly puzzling. Did they simply want to leave the wound open as it was? That would only keep the bleeding from stopping, and hence defeating the purpose of the entire operation. As fate had it, she had become the unwitting teacher of these two squires. “We will close the blood vessels by burning them… because we need to stop the bleeding. Does that make sense?”

She hoped she was making sense. Nira’lia did not know much about teaching. Fortunately for her, the squires seemed to take her explanation. Not that they had a choice.

The metal device had turned to a dull red glow, signaling that it was ready to be used. With a straight face, she took it from the fire and put the flat end of the tool directly on Brill’s skin. The two squires winced, and at this point, Red stood up and edged away a couple of feet. He couldn’t keep it in any longer as he vomited his supper right on the dirty ground.

‘Ugh…’

“Are we done?” asked Drake, his face going green as well, as if he wanted to throw up as well. Nira’lia circled the hot iron on his skin, making sure to get each inch of the open wound. The stench of burning skin and blood was unbearable, but Nira’lia had been around enough injuries and operations by now to be able to ignore the morbidity.

She couldn’t say the same for her two helpers. When she put the hot iron tool away, Drake took that as a sign that the operation was over. He finally let go of Brill and inched away before relaxing his shoulders. An expression of utter relief was on his face. Red appeared relieved as well, although he was ashamed for his reaction.
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 4th, 2012, 5:00 pm

Nira’lia’s mind was moving on auto-pilot. She closed her eyes and put her hands near Brill’s burnt skin. The mark on her right shoulder tingled as she directed Rak’keli’s power to Brill. She knew that it wouldn’t heal it, she couldn’t do that. At most, she would sanitize it.

And this time, she would remember to visit him every single day to continue keeping it sanitized. Nira’lia blamed herself for this, she really did. There was heavy feeling in her chest as she apologized greatly to Rak’keli.

“What do we do with the arm?”

Drake’s question shook her out of her reverie. Since she was done praying to Rak’keli, she put her hands back on her lap and looked at Drake. The Konti opened her mouth to answer, but Drake cut her off even before she was able to get any words out.

“Perhaps we can wait for him to come to? Brill should decide on it himself.”

Her eyebrows knotted in frustration. It was a thoughtful thing to say, and she felt bad for having to shoot it down. Her voice was controlled and gentle as she said, “We can’t do that… it’s a dead arm, it will only attract disease. We have no choice but to burn it or bury it. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll do it!” Red exclaimed. “I want to do it. I’ll bury it!”

The Konti smiled at him, and he seemed satisfied with that answer. He took the clothed arm with him and practically ran off to the forest. He looked sick again when he picked it up, but he was adamant in his decision.

Drake watched Nira’lia as she gathered some fresh bandages from the supplies that she brought along. The Konti was aware of the set of eyes on her. She glanced at Drake questioningly.

“How old are you?” he inquired. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Thirty-three…” she replied as she started to un-wrap the bandages from its roll. There was a split-second of surprise on his face. Nira’lia was accustomed to that reaction by now. Those who were not familiar with the Konti were always surprised when they discovered their ages. “I’ve been doing this since… since I can remember. Why do you ask? Did you want to be a medic?”

He gave a shrug. “I did want to, but my father thought it would be more honorable to aim to be a Knight. Doesn’t really matter.”

The Konti nodded as she started to wrap the bandages around Brill’s arm. She did it gently and very gradually. It had to be wrapped in a way where it was snug but not tight. Slowly, she circled the bandage around the stub. “There are medic Knights.”

Drake seemed uninterested in the topic by now. Or perhaps he preferred not to talk about it, Nira’lia didn’t know. He pointed a thumb towards the carriages that held the other sick. “You know what is odd, healer? Everyone seems to be getting worse except that one man. The one who is unconscious but does not really have any sickness on him.”
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Nira'lia on November 4th, 2012, 5:28 pm

‘He’s talking about Wrenmae.’

“He’s a fortunate one,” replied Nira’lia simply with a faint smile. Fortunate, and downright suspicious. It had been a thought on her mind, but now that someone was acknowledging it, the thought seemed to mutate in her mind.

The Konti knew nothing about Wrenmae. She was tending to him until he got better, and she had Zan with her. In the end though, she knew absolutely next to nothing about Wrenmae. He was dealing with mental issues, she knew that much. Up until now, she still couldn’t figure out the myriad of visions she had received from him. All it served to tell her was that he was… different.

Nira’lia was done bandaging Brill. She looked back at her handiwork and was satisfied. The bleeding had stopped and he was going to be alright. Nira’lia just knew it.

Drake was looking at her questioningly, but her mind had drifted away by now. Her thoughts were focused on Wrenmae as she gave a glance back at the carriages. She was going to confront him once he regained consciousness. Or perhaps she was going to inquire about it from Zan. Nevertheless, there was something strange going on with him, and she was going to find out.
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It's Not A Loss

Postby Paragon on November 30th, 2012, 3:22 pm

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Nira'lia

Experience
Skill XP Earned
Observation 2
Leadership 3
Investigation 2
Interrogation 1
Medicine 4
Teaching 2



Lores
Lore Earned
Taking Control of a Situation
Importance of Cleaning a Wound
Difficult Decision: Amputation
Amputating an Infected Arm
Cauterising a Wound with Fire
Drake's Medical Aspirations
Wrenmae is Immune?



Legend Becomes Reality

Great solo, though it was essentially training you built it into an engaging story, so it was a pleasure to read! If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can work from there.
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