Arriving in Arlathan had felt akin to arriving in Haven. Except there was no giant hole in the sky and nearly every face had been an elven one. Establishing and supplying the infirmary had been old hat, orders and instructions being handed down to quickly set about treating the wounded coming in with each caravan of refugees. There had been many sleepless nights and likely many more ahead, but the team slowly assembling were beginning to find their flow.
Helping the injured and sick was familiar territory, grounding Megara with the upheaval and newly fallen veil bringing… companions each mage had to come to terms with. Even those who had no magical ability, although rare, had somehow attracted spirits or demons to cohabit with, surprising even those who shared a close kinship with the beings. As healers, most shared a deeper connection to the fade, often strictly watched within circles and clans for fear of possession. Megara herself had felt a strong connection to one of compassion… or what she had thought had been compassion. No amount of gold could have had her bet on an Evanaris taking an interest in her, let alone the Hearthkeeper herself, Sylaise.
Megara had been dalish once, and when realising the privileged position she’d found herself in the two had spent a great amount of time in deep meditation, gaining and conveying understanding of the new way of things now no barrier separated mortal from the effects of the fade and magic. Yet, only a piece of Sylaise had come to the elf, the ancient being only a partial shell of her former self though still undeniably powerful now with the veil gone. Unlike some, the healer did not seek to use this for her own benefit, choosing as always to lend her talents for those less fortunate, those without power to change their fate.
Today she strolled through those being already treated, pausing to listen and oversee, offering advice when needed or in an effort to benefit both physician and patient. Each person she talked to, calmly, warmth in her smile even if their wounds appeared grave, offering a kind word before sitting with them. She had been holding the hand of one passing over, their pulse slowing, fading until the previously warm skin began to cool. After a moment she begin to prepare the body, folding their hands over their chest and up to their face, closing the lids of eyes void of vibrancy. Finally, after folding a sheet over the face Megara moved on, looking to help change the fate of someone else in time to avoid adding to Falon’Din’s score.
Death would have no more. A foolish declaration, which she knew clearly, but entertained regardless. Eyes glanced around this new part of gathered souls until finding one medic caught between two injured souls attempted to heal them simultaneously. Meg chuckled to herself, path diverting to lend some assistance.
@Rhosyn Gwyllt
Helping the injured and sick was familiar territory, grounding Megara with the upheaval and newly fallen veil bringing… companions each mage had to come to terms with. Even those who had no magical ability, although rare, had somehow attracted spirits or demons to cohabit with, surprising even those who shared a close kinship with the beings. As healers, most shared a deeper connection to the fade, often strictly watched within circles and clans for fear of possession. Megara herself had felt a strong connection to one of compassion… or what she had thought had been compassion. No amount of gold could have had her bet on an Evanaris taking an interest in her, let alone the Hearthkeeper herself, Sylaise.
Megara had been dalish once, and when realising the privileged position she’d found herself in the two had spent a great amount of time in deep meditation, gaining and conveying understanding of the new way of things now no barrier separated mortal from the effects of the fade and magic. Yet, only a piece of Sylaise had come to the elf, the ancient being only a partial shell of her former self though still undeniably powerful now with the veil gone. Unlike some, the healer did not seek to use this for her own benefit, choosing as always to lend her talents for those less fortunate, those without power to change their fate.
Today she strolled through those being already treated, pausing to listen and oversee, offering advice when needed or in an effort to benefit both physician and patient. Each person she talked to, calmly, warmth in her smile even if their wounds appeared grave, offering a kind word before sitting with them. She had been holding the hand of one passing over, their pulse slowing, fading until the previously warm skin began to cool. After a moment she begin to prepare the body, folding their hands over their chest and up to their face, closing the lids of eyes void of vibrancy. Finally, after folding a sheet over the face Megara moved on, looking to help change the fate of someone else in time to avoid adding to Falon’Din’s score.
Death would have no more. A foolish declaration, which she knew clearly, but entertained regardless. Eyes glanced around this new part of gathered souls until finding one medic caught between two injured souls attempted to heal them simultaneously. Meg chuckled to herself, path diverting to lend some assistance.
If I pull his arm, you can tend to the other more thoroughly, yes?Meg explained, taking the dislocation patient by his good elbow, and urging the scratched man towards the medic.
We should have poultices tomorrow, they still need time to prepare the herbs, but they promised me tomorrow.She nodded once eyeing the wounds,
Prob just a basic purification should do it, but you my friend,turning her newly acquired patient with a grin,
On the count of three and we’ll get you back to two arms and functioning hands, yeah?
@Rhosyn Gwyllt
06-27-2024, 06:51 PM
