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[Ife]

Whilst she waited with her silent, broken companion, Ife paid close attention to the young woman's face and body. Her skin was puckered with scars, blisters and sunburn. Even her hair seemed burnt in it's frazzled, knotted state.

And then the Inarta noticed the prominent bump from the woman's abdomen. This was not a sign of health: the girl's cheeks were as hollow as the others', her wrists as dangerously skinny. This was pregnancy, rape. Unable to control herself, Ife gasped in horror and recoiled away from the poor, girl who subsequently touched her stomach in a sorrowful manner.

"I'm so, sorry." Ife stammered, utterly ashamed at herself for her reaction and forcing her hands to once again reach out for the blonde girl. "I just-- I didn't--" Her voice died away. There was no excuse that could come close to explaining her volatile reaction to the woman's pregnancy. Yet again guilt washed over the redhead, but Ife swallowed it down. She would not turn herself into a victime here.

"You speak Pavi, yes?" She asked again in a falsely bright tone.

To her surprise, the blonde girl drew her response in the sky: Yes. Home. Ruby Pavillion. Her skeletal fingers touched her chest, making a dull, hollow sound. No name. But now home.

"Yes." Ife said gently, "you're home now."

What else could she say? The silence between the two young women stretched on for an eternity and Ife could feel herself growing hot and panicked. She needed to say something, to be a welcoming face for this girl who had finally returned home after far too long away from the worse circumstances Ife could possibly imagine. Added to this was the manner in which she had been drawn to Ife, tagging onto her hand like a lost child.

Sheis a lost child.

So Ife would not ask her any more questions. She did not expect this girl to unload her traumas, not unless she was the one to start it. Instead, the Inarta started to discuss things of hope and happiness: "I'm getting married." Her words were cautious. Was it wrong to discuss her upcoming marriage to a girl who had been raped and possibly tortured? But the blonde girl was smiling now, nodding along to Ife's tale. "I've started calling myself Ife Whipmane instead of Windstride, to get used to the name change."

The girl gave a light, airy laugh that was quite possibly the nicest sound Ife had heard in a long time. The two shared a smile, and for the briefest of chimes they were nothing but two young women celebrating marriage.

[Amunet]

Amunet took several ticks to regain her composure so she could return to the remaining patients. She returned with the meat broth, bread and milk. To each hand of who was helping which survivor she placed the bowl of broth with bread soaking in it and a cup of milk providing instructions. “you may need to help them eat and they need to eat slowly. “ She said softly to each person she came to.

The red head knelt by Ife and the pregnant one to give the cup of milk first. She looked at both into the eyes of the girl and the eyes of Ife, “I am Amunet of the River Flower, here drink this first.” Milk will coat the stomach long unused to digesting very much. The midwife’s hands were warm and what discomfort the pregnant woman may have seem to ease and her disposition may brighten a little. Her hand went to the swollen belly with a competency. There was movement against her hand. “Drink slowly.” She cautioned softly “You know my hunting cat, Leia is horribly messy with drinking milk. “ The gentle red head took a cloth to dab the milk mustache from the girl with slow careful movements. She judged her about 180 days along roughly.

“Thank you for being here with her. “ Amunet said to Ife with a sincerety. “Kindness is good medicine also.” Those sky blue eyes looked to the girl, “I am going to check on others, let this lady know if you need anymore food, I will be back in a few minutes.” With that she stood up and moved to the next one.

Lira was starting to get a little of her bearings. She handed the bowl and cup to the watch person in training. The female looked up at her gratefully. “Eat slowly, there is plenty. I am Amunet and we will be getting you cleaned up and checked over by the doctor soon.” The red head said this to both Lira and her friend. She wanted to make sure she addressed the patient as to encourage her cognitive self to come more out. Hopefully the more safe they feel, the more their true self will come out.

The young midwife moved to Tselias and her victim. She provided the bowl of broth and bread and handed the cup of milk to the man. He started to gulp it down as Amunet darted her hand quickly to slow him down. “Slow down, you will choke. “ Her hand patted his back as he sputtered. A cloth was to his lips and mouth to ease the sputtering as he gained his breath. She introduced herself to the woman warrior and to the patient. “We will get you cleaned up and examined by a doctor soon. There is more food, eat slowly. “

The young industrious woman moved to Erikal and his victim. Placing a bowl in his hand gently as she raked hair over her right side exposing the right side of her face. As her hand touched the man, though their condition was advanced, the man seemed to brighten and not be as uncomfortable. The shimmer of the swirling sigil of winged serpents that went along her temple to her cheek and along the ‘C’ of her jaw was subtle as the opalescent mark went from dark to shimmering to a greyish pearl. The milk was offered to the man as he took it and took the sip. “Easy. “ She said softly. She then introduced herself to the patient and to Erikal.

The patient may not understand yet or he may but she would be polite and address the patient anyway. “Let him have his fill and let’s see what a warm bath and warm clothes will do. The Doctor will examine them so we can get him on the road to recovery. “ Her hair fell back down hiding the swirling sigil. Her hand went to the man’s face gently as he looked into her compassionate sky blue eyes. The eyes of hope looked into the eyes of anguish. That spark of hope, that little tiny grain of light made it into the man’s eyes as it slowly dawned on him he was not alone, he was not being tortured and he was amongst humanity.

[Erikal]

Erikal's staggering progress was halted by Tselias who stormed up to him, eyes ablaze. The man he was helping toward the pavilion quit his shambling, adding all the more weight to Erikal's shoulders by allowing his legs to drag. Blue-gray eyes tightened for a tick as if hurt by Tselias's accusations. Then he offered a weary shrug, his expression stoic. "I'm doing the best I can. Look, if you want to leave, then go," he said curtly. He regretted his terse words, but what she had said bothered the Drykas. It wasn't his fault these people were in the state they were in. A part of him wanted to scream out in frustration. Another part of him wanted to drop the ex-slave and demand answers from the cackling survivor so that he could ride out to the Zith lair and kill them all himself. That was a silly notion, of course. He would likely be slain in such an attempt. Still, the undeniable feeling of helplessness pervaded his thoughts.

After a moment, he saw Tselias had not meant to be as harsh as she had come of. Whatever plagued his mind with dealing with the suffering had apparently affected the warrior-woman as well. He caught her signed apology and offered a grim smile and nod in response. Erikal listened attentively to the news she relayed. He didn't imagine the woman's daughter was still alive, to hear her tale. Erikal was silent a moment and then said, "The Zith need to pay for their wrongdoings. Come on Tselias. Let's get inside and do what we can for these people. Maybe we'll get some answers to a few of these questions and get a chance to do what we do best."

Erikal stumbled into the pavilion with the frail man in tow. Tselias and the mad man followed on his heels. Inside, the air was heavy and oppressive and thick with the stink of unwashed bodies. He could smell the faint fragance of flowers burning somewhere, but it did little to cleanse the air. He eased the man down onto a cot. Within, he noticed the others were all being tended to by attendants, his friends, or the short fiery-haired woman he recalled from outside. Again he heard the moans, the coughing, and the constant muttering. It was enough to drive him insane along with the poor souls! He caught sight of Ife and the pregnant woman exchanging words. That brought a shadow of a smile to his lips. Despite all she had been through, the girl seemed somehow cheerful. He figured it was worth a try, perhaps mere words could make a difference....

"Hello. I'm Erikal. Can you tell me who you are?" he asked, looking to the man. The Drykas noticed for the first time, the man had tattoos. They rode up his back and shoulders, and were the familiar sigils of his people - windmarks. Erikal brightened at this discovery and clapped the man on the shoulder excitedly. "You are Drykas! Which of the clans did you hail from friend?" To his inquiry the man said nothing. It wasn't even clear that he had heard or understood Erikal for he simply gazed blankly at the horseman, his head rocking back and forth. "What was that?" Erikal asked. He bent closer to listen to the barely audible words. "I sleep. I wake. I sleep I wake. I sleep. I wake," the man droned in his tongue. Erikal sighed sorrowfully.

"Ha. You ain't going to get anything out of 'im, Drykas. They bashed 'im good. Tried to escape one time. Told me he was going to get away. Some fool notion that 'is horse would help him escape. Ha," said the dirty-faced patient that had spoken to him earlier. He sat on an adjacent cot , stuffing bits of broth-soaked bread into his mouth hungrily. The survivor licked his dirty fingers, his mouth curled in an euphoric smile. "That's good. Mmm that's damned good," he murmured.

Erikal frowned and returned his gaze to the uncomprehending Drykas before him. It angered him that the monsters had done such a thing to someone. Hearing the mad man's story, he wondered if the Drykas's strider yet lived. His thoughts were interrupted when the short healer-woman came into view. She passed a bowl of broth and bread into the shaking man's hands. Erikal quickly reached out to take the bowl before the man dropped it. His hands open and closed as if just realizing nothing was contained in them. The horseman looked up in time to catch a sigil mark gracing the side of the woman's face. It was a beautiful design. Though he knew not which of the gods it represented, he thought it likley Rak'keli, since the woman appeared to be a healer. The woman possessed blue eyes that carried hope in their depths.

Erikal ladled a spoonfull of broth and brought it toward the man's mouth. Fortunately, he didn't have to coax the man into eating. He slurped up the offering and inhaled sharply, smacking his lips happilly. After a few more bites, Erikal laid the bowl down and gestured to the healer woman. Need to speak. Now.

Erikal stood up and walked several feet away from the patients to speak in earnest to Amunet. "I know you and the doctor are doing all that you can. But we've got to do more damn it! That man over there claims the Zith will attack again. I don't know if I believe that. But my patient hasn't got a thought in his head. Apparently he suffered a head injury at their hands. And that woman over there," Erikal gestured toward Ife's patient, "is pregnant with a half-zith child due to rape. Look. I'm doing the best I can at this. I'm just not any good at it. The Watchman mentioned something about obtaining vital information as to the whereabouts of the Zith lair. I'm going to interrogate that man over there and get the answers we need. Will you and the doctor be alright here?" he asked. His gaze lingering on the swollen belly of the poor girl, before returning to Amunet.

[Jasmine Stormblood]

Let me know if I missed anything guys

 

Erikal

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XP

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Lores

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Miscellaneous

• Mizas (+/-) | Amount
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Amunet

XP

• Socialization: 3 XP
• Medicine: 2 XP

Lores

• Midwives can only heal so much
• Amunet: do not handle death well
• Good first notes help the doctors
• cpr = cardio pulmonary resuscitation
• Medicine: checking for pulse, skin color, and sores
• Amunet: providing care for malnurished patients

 

Tselias

Let me know when your ledger has been updated and I will get your grades posted
XP

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• XP

Lores

• Lore:
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Miscellaneous

• Mizas (+/-) | Amount
• Item Purchased (+/-) | Amount
• Item Sold (+/-) | Amount