Houses of Healing

Seven Stars and Seven Stones and One White Tree.
Scholar of Gondor
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High up on the levels of the White City, near the Citadel Gate in the sixth circle
there is a cluster of bigger and smaller buildings.
These are the Houses of the Healing where the citizens and the visitors
of Minas Tirith may find cure and treatment for their ailments.


The closest facility to the street is the reception – a short hallway from the entrance leads
down to a room modestly furnished with a small table and several chairs made
of the dark brown wood. There are some writing utensils and
a page of parchment on the table, as well as a small vase with flowers
which adds a touch of quiet beauty and peace to the room. Also, a few reference books
are found on a shelf at the wall, within easy reach.


From the reception area the door leads to the rooms of treatment, where the patients are
receiving the first necessary care. Each room contains a large table for treatment purposes, a bed,
a couple of chairs and two smaller tables. There are shelves and cabinets along the walls,
containing the healers’ equipment and medicines necessary for the work.


Not far from the Reception room there is a spacious study. A rather large
round table stands at the center of the room. Some writing utensils
and parchments have found a resting place on it. The wall to the right of the
door is completely covered with bookshelves filled with books holding the wealth of
medical knowledge necessary for the deepened learning of the healers.
From there the door leads further into the quarters of the healers and the storage rooms.


The patients in need of a longer treatment are housed in other buildings (recovery rooms).
The rooms are made as comfortable and cozy as possible, the windows allowing in the light
and facing out to the surrounding gardens. Each bed is covered with fresh white linens
and a pair of soft pillows is set upon it. The nightstand at the head of
the bed has enough space for the most necessary things.
A chair stands close to the bed for the needs of the attending staff or the visitors.


Around the Houses of Healing is a garden with the paths leading among the trees,
herbs, and flowerbeds. There are wooden benches here and there where patients can
relax and allow the peace and calmness of the garden to soothe them.
The garden lies close to the southward wall of the City, providing a beautiful
view on the flats below, the Anduin flowing through it with the blue
waters glittering in the sun, and the green woods of Southern Ithilien beyond it.


Thread guidelines:
All general RPG rules apply.
Post your location on the top of your post.
White out your out of character comments.
Posts over 300 characters preferred.


Healer training:
Post in the reception asking to be trained.
The training will consist of:
5 basic tasks to perform
5 tasks assisting the healer/herbalist
5 “examination” tasks with the healer/herbalist evaluating


Locations (please post in the color indicated for each location)

Reception (red - #FF0000)
Treatment rooms (light blue - #0040FF)
Study (brown - #804040)
Recovery rooms (green - #008000)
Garden (violet - #BF40FF)
Healer quarters: apothecary, storage etc. (gold - #FFBF00)

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Pele Alarion
Reception


Usually she would have paid a visit to the Guesthouse when arriving from outside the City; however, this time she made sure to hurry through the first circle, hidden within her dark grey worn cloak. Pele had been away from Minas Tirith for a long time, some of it against her wishes, and afterwards very intentionally; and she was not that sure whether she wanted to meet people at this point without feeling overwhelmed. Besides... the thought remained unfinished, as she continued up the circles of the City.

She had taken the time to heal physically, and mostly had achieved it; so that gave her a reason to see if she could still prove herself useful in her former occupations, though it seemed that mentally she might still need a plenty of time to recover to full capacity, if that was possible. Also, it was still to be seen if she would even be accepted, all things considering. But first things first, she wanted to be sure to be medically cleared to proceed.

The walk up to the Houses of Healing was rather uneventful, and sooner rather than later Pele found herself facing the door to the place she had once considered one of her homes. She hesitated with her hand on the door knob in sudden onslaught of uncertainty, but then opened the door and with her other hand pushed back the hood. Her hair was shorter than before, shoulder-length, and quite a few strands of grey had sneaked their way into it. Her eyes seemed to have lost the spark they usually held, and it made her look rather grim.

Slowly she took further steps into once familiar reception room; not much had changed, except perhaps the constant replacement of flowers in the vase. The receptionist was not present, and it gave Pele a few more moments to enjoy the room. The familiarity and calm atmosphere seemed to have a good influence on her, and a slow hint of smile appeared on her face.

While she could have easily gone on to find any available healers, it seemed to her that it would be better to wait here for someone to notice her. After all she had only come for a check-up, and then, afterwards, if she was found fitting, she might see if her claims on former status here would be grounds enough to grant her any part in taking on duties. So she contented herself with waiting and inspecting the cabinets, occasionally picking up one thing or the other. It did feel like home.
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Reception
Durien Arrandir
w/Pele Alarion


Durien balanced the stack of books she carried in one arm as she swiftly traced long familiar yet only recently retrodden path through the sixth circle. She'd just returned to the Houses of the Healing after a very long absence. It was one of her favorite places in Minas Tirith. She'd spent long hours reading medical scrolls in the study, tending herbs in the gardens, brewing new tinctures in the healer's quarters, and conversing with patients in the treatment and recovery rooms. In fact, most of the books she was carrying now contained information on Yarrow, a single herb she'd often used in the past in help staunch bleeding, but wanted to explore its use in a variety of tinctures. There were only six of them and they weighed almost as much as she did. Well, maybe not quite. Her lithe frame was more gaunt than slender despite the velvety dark silver gray overdress and light gray kirtle underneath it doing their best to smooth her sharp edges into curves. She was petite even by Gondorian standards, and the six books stacked in her arms came to her chin.

The riding boots, Durien still wore from earlier that morning tapped out a swift staccato as she gracefully ascended the the sixth circle. Arriving at the main entrance which led into the reception area, Durien balanced the books in one arm and leaned a bony hip against the door pushing it open and half turning into the room as she did. She instantly sensed a presence in the room, but her arms weren't going to hold up under their load much longer. She had endurance, but sheer physical strength was not her forte. With a soft thunk, she set the books down gently but a little too quickly onto the desk. Where the receptionist was, she had no idea, but she was sure she would have gotten a disparaging look for invading the desk space, especially as she now chose to abandon her carefully selected books in order to turn and greet the woman waiting there.

Pele! Durien cried, her emerald eyes dancing in both recognition and delight. Although the delight remained in her eyes, a shadow of concern crept across them as she started noticing small details. She didn't know where the former healer had been these last few years, she hadn't been in Minas Tirith much either, but clearly it wasn't relaxing in the gardens here. She couldn't quite put a finger on what was different, just that the intervening years since they had last since each other seemed to leave a shadow on the woman in front of her. She might have explained it away as both of them being older than when they had first met, but she didn't think so. She couldn't tell for sure though as Durien hadn't aged at the same rate as her friend, though she kept altering her appearance to give the illusion that she was. That was because Durien wasn't really the Gondorian woman she appeared, and all in the White City, believed her to be. Years of keeping her identity and race a secret, plus an innate talent for adopting languages and cultures had given her the unique ability to blend in with almost any race. She'd once passed herself off as hobbit. Granted, she hadn't actually been standing near a hobbit when she had done that, but the men in Bree had been fully convinced. In any case, the truth was she had born in the First Age to a race known for their pointed ears, ears which she now hid underneath the simple yet somehow elaborate thick braids holding her raven hair away from her face. Enough about her.

“Welcome back!” Durien started across the room, intending to give the other woman a hug, but a sudden thought made her stride falter for a second. Was Pele here to rejoin the healers? Or was she, as Durien was starting to suspect, here to be treated? Pele was an experienced healer. It was worrisome that the woman wanted or needed a second opinion if that was the case. Her tone took on a professional note, even though she opened her arms to embrace the woman. “What brings you to us today?”

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Pele Alarion
Reception with Durien


She was satisfied to see that things were kept in good order here, and it was with some satisfaction that she inspected some of the basic supplies kept for the purposes of emergency needs in the reception. When Pele heard the door opening and the steps approaching, she closed the cabinet: should the newcomer prove some healer or an apprentice that did not know her, it would not do to be scolded for tampering with the healing supplies.

As she turned around, it was with some relief that she recognised Durien nearly buried under a stack of books, of which she disposed of on the desk. Glad to see that there was someone she knew, Pele let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed some more.

"Wonderful to see you, Durien," she replied, a small smile playing on her face. "I am back; or at least trying to come back."

The Gondorian hesitated for a moment, considering whether she should respond to the invitation for an embrace, but eventually stepped forward to receive it and give one in return. She had avoided most everyone for a very long time, and it felt both somewhat strange and good to have more interaction. The warm welcome made Pele aware that she had a deep hunger for friendships, though she had done everything in her power to suppress it, and for a while had quite managed to do so.

"I mean to take up healing duties again, if there's a need..."
she mentioned the easiest of the reasons for her coming here, and then added the less pleasant one: "I also think it would be good if an extra pair of eyes evaluated my health condition, just to be sure. For the purposes of returning to the military..." It was not that she was specifically required to do so, but she doubted her ability to evaluate herself in an objective manner; just in case there was something she had overlooked.
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Joined: Thu May 14, 2020 5:15 pm
Apothecary

Findy ducked into the Houses of Healing through the side entrance. She did not feel quite prepared to begin dealing with patients yet. She could hear voices along the corridor – more than likely Pele answering questions. “I’ll just get on with these errands and head down there later. Pele will be able to deal with the person down there without my interruption,” she assured herself.

The Apothecary in the Second Circle Marketplace was more for the common person with a passing interest in refilling their home medicine pantries or having her fix them a strengthening or refreshing tisane and to have a friendly chat while out shopping. The Apothecary in the Houses of Healing, she reminded herself, was for the professional healers’ access and more serious illnesses and injuries. Thankfully, there did not seem to be many “customers” here today, so she could get on with her business. She had asked that the driver bring a wagonload to the Houses of Healing to deliver some of the special herbs that she had acquired during her time collecting herbs and seedlings in Ithilian, the Eastfold and the Firien Wood, as well as some fine quality metalwork from a Dwarves’ settlement due east of the Carrock. The entire journey had taken over two years!

After unloading the crates, bags, and boxes, she thanked the driver and pressed a few coins into his palm. Many thanks, my friend. “Now then,” she said with no small amount of satisfaction in her voice. “I’ll just find a home for all of these treasures, gather a few seedlings from the garden, and be on my way.” The heaviest of the crates contained the Dwarfish instruments and tools of metal:

- several small and two large cauldrons
- three sets of weights and scales
- six oil lamps
- 12 candle holders
- a set of sharp knives, scissors and scalpels folded into a rolled-up velvet cloth
- a box full of various tools: hammers, etc. for minor repairs
- hooks, plates and various sizes of measuring cups and spoons
- new gardening tools
- metal broom handles
- a new set of fireplace tools
- 12 garden grates that could be hooked together or left separately


She brushed her hands together and sat down on a bench to catch her breath. “I had not realized how heavy all of these would be! Now, I shall drop these seeds, seedlings and dried herbs off to the gardener after which I'll pay a visit of Pele. She'll be pleased to hear about these things I have fetched for the Houses of Healing. She's probably given up on me, thinking I would never return!"
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Last edited by Finduilas Faelivrin on Sat May 23, 2020 12:42 am, edited 1 time in total.

Dúnadan
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Reception
Durien Arrandir
w/Pele Alarion


Durien felt, more than observed the momentary hesitation before Pele hugged her back. She recognized that intrinsic reaction from experience. If they hadn't been hugging, or what passed for hugging since there was so little substance to Durien's material form there wasn't exactly much to hug, the woman opposite her might have seen a dark expression cross her pale features. A ripple of anger, immediately tamped down, ran through Durien like a shiver. That brief hesitation wasn't a reflection on the manner of their greeting, but the reaction of one who had recently developed an aversion to touch. There were only a handful of reasons to cause that sudden sensitivity and the elf didn't like the idea of the former healer and ranger experiencing any of them.

Pretending, she hadn't noticed the hesitation, Durien stepped back from the hug with a cheeriness not entirely feigned. She was, after all, thoroughly delighted to hear Pele was interested in resuming her duties in the Houses of Healing. ”There is always a need for more healers.” She teased in reply. ”You know how it is.” Her expression sobered and her tone became more serious. ”We really could use the help. The war left both the soldiers and the people pf this city broken and injured. Wounds take time to heal but sometimes they never do, and sometimes the pain never goes away.” She paused for a moment. “And we thought the wounded brought through the doors the day the king returned would be the worst of the war's aftermath. I'm working on a few ideas for devices for the veterans missing limbs and I'd love your advice.”

Durien listened to Pele's reasoning with a quiet seriousness. What had happened to the woman? She was alarmed, although she refused to acknowledge the emotion with an expression. Although curious, [b}Durien[/b] knew better than to pry fore details. Pele would tell her when she was ready. "I can evaluate and clear you for return to duty, if you'd like. Is there anything you are concerned about in particular? Any old injuries acting up? New aches, pains, fevers, coughs, etc?” Durien glanced around and furrowed her brows. This wasn't the right place for this conversation; after all any one could walk in here. “Why don't we head to over to one of the treatment areas?” It was more statement than question as she led the way, abandoning her books. The receptionist would have a fit when she walked in and saw them, but she was both in the mood to ruffle a few of the woman's feathers and intent on returning for them later.

Instead of walking toward the doorway leading from the reception to the treatment rooms, Durien headed toward the exit at the rear of the room, the one which led into the gardens. The path to the treatments rooms was longer than the hallway to them, but if her suspicions were right, Pele would probably be more comfortable with a few moments in the open air rather than in a confined austere space occasionally punctuated with the sharp smell of blood and the reverberating groans of patients beyond the help of willow bark tea. In any case, it was a beautiful day, and she wasn't against taking any chance she could to bask in the warmth of the sun and light spring breeze.

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Pele with Durien
Garden, headed to the Treatment Rooms


"I can definitely imagine that help might be needed," Pele responded with relief to the fact that there was still something for her to return to. "Only I might need to take it slow at first," she added, and wondered to herself how much she could be of use to others when she herself was still pretty much in pieces and needed fixing.

Pele would not share her needs in reception, so she was grateful that Durien took lead, and selected the path through the gardens. She did not hurry, enjoying the sun on her face and breathing in deeply the fresh breeze carrying the scents of various flowers and herbs. Yet her mind was very much busy, thinking of how best to respond to the woman: how much should she say, and where could she even begin? She was unwilling to show herself to anyone, but apparently it might be necessary... At any rate she would not be able to hide that she was missing part of her left pinkie.

"Well... Durien..." she began, unsure how to go about it. "I have this wound on my right shoulder... I've cleaned it and all, but it might need stitching or something." Though Pele was not at all sure it could be stitched up, as the damaged area was not that small: it had been difficult to make clean cuts holding the knife in the left hand to remove the markings, and she had pretty much messed up the shoulder. And should she even mention the slight fever she had almost gotten used to by now, frequent waves of nausea and the fact that she did not remember when she had last had a proper sleep? At any rate, she was quite sure that Durien would not clear her for duty if she knew this all.

But at least she had managed to gain back some of the weight, though she still looked rather thin, and it might still take a while to regain full strength. Pele let out a heavy sigh, longing to trust someone, and yet unwilling to share, lest she'd lose any friends she had here. However, she'd need at least minimal help, as there was only that much that she could do herself, no matter how much she hated asking for it.
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Garden & Treatment Rooms
Durien Arrandir
with Pele Alarion



Durien slowed her steps once outside, raising her face toward the sunlight, absorbing the warmth into her always cold pale skin. She could never get enough of the sunlight, though she walked more frequently beneath the moonlight. She closed her emerald eyes and inhaled deeply, the scents of the herbs mixing into a wonderful bouquet for the senses. Her long slender fingers brushed across the leaves of the plants as she passed. She relaxed, letting herself fall into step with Pele and waiting patiently as she sensed her friend struggling with how much she should say. She causally noticed the woman's left pinkie had healed well, and didn't mention it or ask the cause. Was she curious? Yes, but it clearly was just the surface, quite literally, of her friend's troubles. Whether a war wound, a torture wound, or a wound received as a punishment, a common slaver's practice, she was not not certain, but it certainly bore marks of one of the three. She'd seen many veterans who had followed Aragorn into battle with similar wounds to fingers, and with the number of citizens permanently disfigured from the war, she doubted the finger even drew attention, much less concern, in the White City.

Idly, Durien wondered whether she should tell Pele her own story, whether it would help her friend or torment her worse. It wasn't fair, expecting honesty and openness when she wasn't fully giving her itself, and she hated herself for that. She absently rubbed one of the scars she hid from the world as she thought, her mind wandering. To almost everyone in Gondor, she was a Gondorian woman because she chose to pass herself off as a Gondorian woman and it would hurt her friend when she discovered she wasn't. Keeping her elven blood and her history a secret also kept everyone safe, primarily because there had been a high price on her head for nearly as long as she'd been alive, since the First Age and many of those who knew it paid dearly for merely possessing that knowledge. She'd been the wrong child, not the one that had been desired, but she was the one the enemy had been able to get his hands on. Her lithe body, a little too thin and jagged, pale skin, and shadowed features, not to mention a few scars she usually kept hidden, were all reminders of the time she had dwellt in the darkest of shadows, most unwillingly. She had escaped but her freedom had come had great cost. Durien firmly shut the lid on those thoughts. She could not afford to to lose herself in the sorrow accompanying those particular memories.

Pele's voice drew her attention firmly back to the woman alongside her. They were nearing the treatment rooms. Green eyes narrowed, as Durien fixed her gaze onto Pele's shoulder. ”Well, let's take a look at it, then, shall we?” She extended her arm to indicate a treatment room. She frowned. “You're flushed, too.” She calmly and slowly, so as not to startle her anxious friend, reached out the back of her hand to rest against Pele's forehead. ”You are running a fever. How long have you felt like this? We'd better take a good look at that shoulder. If it is infected or if gangrene has set in... Well let's not worry until we have to.” Entering the treatment room, Durien pointed to a wooden table. “Sit there.” She directed, her healer's no-nonsense voice kicking in. She started to mix some herbs together, then stopped, poked her head out through the door, asked one of the girls to fetch her some hot water, then turned back to her herbs. She mixed chamomile, willow bark, poppy, rosemary, ginger, clove and Athelas. The chamomile was for taste (it'd be fairly bitter without it), the willow bark and poppy would help with pain, , the rosemary and clove would help with any inflammation, the ginger would help with the nausea she was now sure her friend was experiencing considering her fever and pain, and Athelas would help raise her spirits if indeed there was any touch of foulness lingering in the wound. The girl rapped on the door and Durien retrieved a kettle of hot water without letting her in. She poured it over the herbs and let it sit to steep. “Alright, let's see it.” She nodded toward Pele's shoulder. She gathered some bandages, sterile tools, and a bottle of strong alcohol as she waited. Determining the tea had steeped long enough, she strained it into a mug before turning back around.

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Pele undergoing treatment by Durien
Treatment Rooms


The walk through the garden seemed way too short, and Pele did not feel that ready to have her injuries dealt with, yet that had to be done sooner or later. She had needed initial aid with setting the broken bones and dislocations, and simply survival, but afterwards she had hidden away from the public eye in an attempt to deal with the rest of the injuries, mostly succeeding. But then there were things even now that she could not do by herself.

Besides, Pele had no will left to protest against Durien's orders, so she simply closed her eyes when the elf checked for fever. Why had she even imagined that she would be able to hide it from a trained eye? Sitting down on the indicated table, she carefully removed the upper garments, remaining in a light sleeveless tunic that would allow access to the shoulder she had bandaged as best as she could with one hand.

"Uhh... this last onset... about a month or so since I cut..." Pele stopped abruptly as soon as she had said this. How would she even explain that she did this to herself? With much care she removed the bandage to reveal a nasty looking patch of raw flesh on her shoulder. Even though it had begun to heal along the edges, yet the healing had not taken place fully: the shoulder was swollen, and pockets of pus had formed here and there. Looking into Durien's eyes when she turned back after pouring the tea, Pele considered for a while if disclosing some more would be safe; at any rate she had to be more or less open to receive the necessary care.

"This had to be done; there was no other way to go about it..." she almost whispered, her eyes pleading with Durien not to share it with anyone else. Then she spoke as usual again, though with great weariness in her voice: "I've had fever on and off for years now; even though currently it might be stronger due to this," she nodded towards the injured shoulder.

After some consideration, she added: "I have this... sensitive scar on my upper back that I might have torn open by accident while practicing. Might need to be checked too." It might be nothing serious, but if she had to carry something on her back, it would definitely become a nuisance. However, she hated the very idea of showing more than her arms and shoulders. The constant strain between the feeling that she had to hide everything and the deep desire to find support had added yet another layer of weariness to her, as well as deepened the sense of utter loneliness. It made Pele wonder whether she would be able to live a normal life again, and how her friends would perceive her. Perhaps she would be left with none.
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Treatment Rooms
Durien Arrandir w/ Pele Alarion


Turning back to Pele with the brewed tea in hand, Durien managed not to wince as she caught sight of the open wound. ”Drink this.” She handed her friend the mug and leaned closer to take a good look at the shoulder as she continued speaking almost as a distraction while she thought. “It's not too bad tasting.” She had managed to catch the trailed off bit about Pele having made the cut herself. Given the location wound, the time Durien herself had spent in Nurn, Umbar and the Harad, and the changes in Pele since she had least seen her, Durien realized exactly what the woman had done and why. ”At least it isn't bitter.” She amended idly, her smooth and steady voice detached from the thoughts cascading through her mind. ”It will help with the infection and with the pain. In fact, you're going to be drinking it regularly for a few weeks.” She dryly added as she studied the inflammation. In the back of her mind, she wondered who's mark it had been and what damage that person had done to her friend's heart and mind, and how best to help in her recovery. She could, at least, be both a friend and confidant, as well as do her best to heal the physical body.

Stepping back, she looked Pele squarely in the eyes, catching an almost pleading look for her not to tell anyone. She smiled reassuringly. Even if one discounted both the firm rule the houses of healing had about healer-patient confidentiality and her unwillingness to share information she was privy to without consent, Durien tended to be silent and taciturn by nature. All secrets were safe with her and she had plenty of experience keeping them. ”The damage is not as bad as you expect, I imagine. I can restore it to full range of motion without pain. It is infected, inflamed, and a bit rough around the edges...” Durientrailed off as she tried to keep any disapproving notes out of her voice since it was the last thing her patient needed. She understood the desperate need to get the mark off, but Eru help her, had the first thing the woman had gotten her hands on been a butter knife? She nearly winced just thinking about the agony it must have caused, for the blade had clearly been dull at best. Sorrow did deepen her voice, because she hated to say the next part. “I can minimize the scarring,” She paused, swallowing hard. ”But you will carry a scar the rest of your days.” She didn't want her friend to bear that constant reminder, but there was nothing she could do about that.

She turned to the side for a brief moment to give Pele a moment to think and gather herself in case she needed it. She also poured a generous amount of strong whiskey into another mug and gathered the supplies she needed before turning back to the Gondorian. Continuing in her best healer voice, Durien explained the next couple of steps. ”First, drink this. It will help with the pain.” She explained as she handed her the mug she had just poured. The willow bark in the tea was stronger at blocking the pain than the whiskey, but there was no harm in doubling up in this instance. ”Then I am going to take care of the wound on your shoulder. I will need to sterilize the area, lance and drain the pus around the infections, cut away the proud flesh, scrub and abrade it to clean it, trim the rough edges of skin around it, then pull it together and stitch it closed.” She lay the equipment she needed on a small table next to her. “You will still feel some pain, even through the willow bark tea and the whiskey, but it will be dulled, and it won't hurt nearly as much as the original...” Her voice was slightly apologetic until it trailed off at the end and gestured toward the shoulder. For some reason, she was as reluctant as Pele to say exactly what had been done out loud.

”As for the wound on your back, I think I can correct the healing there as well, but it is less important to your health than taking care of this one first. So we shall attend to the shoulder first.” Durien stated matter-of-factly. Then she shrugged. “Hopefully, the medicine I give you to aid in reducing the inflammation will also reduce the fevers. If the fevers have begun before the infections and continue after the infections are gone, I will find the source, but I am not able to do so until the swelling is no more.” She pointed a lancet toward the open wound on the shoulder. ”Therefore, shoulder first. Shall we begin?” She arched an eyebrow and held up the bottle of alcohol and a square of clean white cloth.

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Thea with unknown boy - Reception

With her bum and angling her body in a way that she could push down on the door handle with her elbow, Thea finally managed to open the door. She gasped loudly as it suddenly opened, almost falling through, though managing to catch herself at the last minute and not dropping the small boy in her arms.

"Gosh.. you are heavier than you look.."

Straightening, and drawing in a deep breath to calm herself, grateful that the tears had stopped, Thea quickly made her way down the corridor and into the reception area. Her wet green eyes quickly flicking around the room, looking for any help.

"Hello?" she called out, not too loudily, not wanting to disturb those being treated here, though hopefully loud enough to get attention from a healer.

"Hang in there little one, we will get you help soon" she whispered to the unconcious boy in her protective grasp.

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Nessa – Reception

When upon her return to Minas Tirith Nessa de Argosy decided to visit the Houses of Healing she did not expect she was going to treat a patient almost the moment she walked into the reception area. She had planned to meet and talk with the Warden and perhaps with a Master Healer in order to discuss the possibility of her continuing her healer’s apprenticeship. In preparation for her visit she dressed in a simple blue-grey linen tunic and a dim grey kirtle (that did not make her look like a widow, despite what her cousin Bran would say) over it. Her chocolate hair was gathered up in a sensible and neat bun, and she made sure to tuck in any stray locks.

In addition, she also made sure to carefully place the roll containing essential medical instruments in her satchel and some parchment and pencil if she needed to copy something from the library. One could say that she was over-preparing for a simple interview, after all she was just going to talk to the Warden not demonstrate a surgical procedure, but she did not want the Warden to think that she was not taking her apprenticeship seriously.

Thus equipped she came to the entrance of the Houses of Healing and closed her eyes for a moment. Taking a deep breath in order to expel the last of her nervousness she opened the doors and entered the reception area. She was scanning the area trying to find the old man who worked at the reception, if her memory still served her his name was Ralph. But instead of Ralph the Receptionist the only person, or persons to be precise, she saw in the hallway were a skinny red-haired girl (Thea), who appeared to be her cousin’s age. In the girls arms, that were red and raw Nessanoted, was a small unconscious boy. Since the reception seemed to be deserted of staff and healers she carefully approached the shorter girl who held the boy close and gave her a friendly smile.

- Hello, my name is Nessa, I’m an apprentice healer at the Houses. – She introduced herself, ignoring that she was an apprentice healer during the War, now not so much, but tenses hardly mattered at the moment. – May I have a look at the wee one? – She asked kindly while she placed her fingers on the boy’s neck to check his pulse. – Can you tell me what happened? How was he hurt?
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Thea - reception

Panic was about to take hold of her, the steely cold fingers clenching at her guts and making her breathe faster. Her eyes flicked all over the reception, looking for any sign of someone who could help, taking a few steps here and there though not knowing where to go. Just as she was about to lose it and barge through the doors further in, she heard someone approaching from behind, quickly hitching the boy up in her arms.

Thea almost cried with relief when Nessa introduced herself, the calming smile the woman gave her barely able to settle the panic that was gripping her fiercely. In a mad rush, Thea spilled her information.

"Yes, please, it was an accident! He needs help! He has been unconcious for.. I don't know.. forty-five minutes or so. I think he banged his head. I did not see him! I was in a rush to leave and I threw open the door, not knowing he was on the other side and it banged into him and then I think he banged into the wall, probably hitting his head again. Please, you have to help him!"

Drawing in quick ragged breaths, Thea looked at the woman pleadingly, the lie she had just told colouring her cheeks and making them flash hotly, tears of guilt and worry finally spilling.

"Please? Please help him!"


OOC: You can see what happened to him in the Library

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Nessa with Thea – Reception

With her finger on the boy’s neck Nessa silently counted, determining the boy’s pulse. It was slow, but not overly so; and combined with the fact that the boy’s breathing was unobstructed, although shallow, and that he was not hot under her touch boded well. However, she was still cautious and listened carefully as the girl (Thea) started talking in a rush.

- He has been unconscious for… I don’t know… forty-five minutes or so. I think he banged his head. I did not see him! – The girl exclaimed and Nessa’s hands went to the boy’s head and she felt a goose egg sized bump on the back of the boy’s head. The girl continued to talk, the words rushing out of her like a flood. – I was in a rush to leave and I threw open the door, not knowing he was on the other side and it banged into him and then I think he banged into the wall, probably hitting his head again. Please, you have to help him!

Nessa was watching the girl now and noticed the rush of colour in her cheeks and that the girl, who still did not give her a name, started to cry. She was not convinced that what happened to the boy was an accident; it could have been, children could easily get hurt in all sorts of ways, but she highly doubted that the unnamed girl (Thea) was responsible for the incident. There were many reasons why one might not give their name, there’s power in a person’s name her mother used to say, and her mother was rarely wrong. The girl in front of her did not look like a wanted criminal, she looked rather haggard and frightened, and most likely she did not want to mention her name out of fear that someone would report her.

Although, maybe it was her circumstances that needed reporting, if a report was to be made. They both cold very well be victims of domestic abuse, perhaps a family member, or someone they depended upon. She saw no visible bruises or cuts on their faces, other than the boy’s current injury, but both Roderic and Bran (for reasons of their own) told her that bruises, cuts and other marks are not always visible. Abusers could hurt their victims in other ways and leave marks on parts of the body that were not on display. Furthermore, the victim who was usually female would routinely hide these traces out of fear and shame. They would make excuses, telling stories about how clumsy they were to cover this up, but people somehow knew. What you chose to do with that knowledge was important; for even if someone acted in good faith, the abuser would not always be the one to pay the price.

- Please? Please help him! – The girl pleaded and Nessa gave her a reassuring smile and decided she must proceed with utmost caution and chose her words with care lest she scare the girl. She knew she now had two patients instead of one: the boy who was physically injured, a possible mild concussion if she judged correctly, and the unnamed girl who was panicked and scarred.

- You’ve been very good and extremely brave little dove. – She spoke encouragingly to the girl. – It took a lot of courage and strength to bring the wee one to the Houses of Healing. Will you be brave and strong a bit more sweetling and bring him to the that room over there so I could have a proper look? – She said giving a friendly smile and motioning to the door in front of her that lead to the treatment room.


OOC: (I hope I interpreted all the information correctly since I was reading the Library posts and wrote notes during my lunch break at work *fingers crossed*)
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Thea with Nessa

Thea was way too distraught to even realise that the woman might be suspecting that she was lying, merely grateful that she was going to get help with the boy. Hitching him up again, her arms starting to tremble slightly with his weight, she gratefully took the offer of taking the young boy through to where he could be examined more thoroughly. However the woman's words made did not have the desired affect and make her feel better, it made her feel even worse, the guilt making the tears spill once more, though she tried to hide them by quickly stepping forward and heading towards the door that had been pointed out.

Brave? No, she was anything but. Courage and strength? Definitely not. Guilt was more like it and the fear of being responsible for this young boy's death or permanent coma. "Oh Eru no.." she muttered to herself at the thought of the boy never waking again and quickly put him on the table. She fiddled a bit to make him more comfortable, then stepped aside to allow Nessa to look at him, her hands immediately wringing together making them even more red than usual. Hands still clutched together, she brough them to her mouth, silently praying that he would be ok, not knowing what she would do if he wasn't.


OOC: Yep, you got it perfectly!

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room

Nessa
watched as the girl (Thea) carried the boy to the treatment room. She was about to follow her when she noticed two women dressed in the customary grey of the Houses of Healing coming her way. One of them was older, about her aunt’s age, and her face looked slightly familiar, but Nessa could not add a name to the familiar face. The younger of the two was perhaps about the unknown girl’s (Thea) age, or thereabouts. Although she did not know their names, and they might not know who she is (she thought that the older women might remember her, but it was equally possible she might not); information needed to be passed.

- Excuse me. – Nessa quickly called out to them. – I’m Nessa de Argossy, Turin’s wife, – She added her husband’s name just in case and continued. – An apprentice healer.
The older woman whose face looked familiar now appeared to remember her, or at least she recognised her name. – Yes, I remember you lass. Go on.
- A moment ago a young girl brought a patient to the Houses, a small boy. They are in the treatment room now. – She started to explain. – At first sight it appears the boy has a mild concussion, but I will examine him further to be certain. However, could you please look if any of the senior healers are free to come and check over my work?
The older woman looked at the younger who nodded and went to do as she asked.
- Do you need anything else lass?
- Thank you, yes. Some hot water please, and if it would not be too much trouble I would like to ask you for one more favour? – She saw the older woman nod to both of her requests so she continued. – Could you please check if mistress Finduilas is at the apothecary and convey her my respect? I would like to speak with her later if she has a moment to spare.
- I’ll bring the kettle now. - The other woman said and smiled warmly and went to get the kettle with hot water, while Nessa entered the spacious treatment room.

The room itself had good lightning, and was set in such a way that the treatment table was placed in the spot with the best light. On far side of the room was a bed with a bedside table next to it. Shelves with neatly labelled jars and bottles with herbs, tinctures and various other medicine, as well as cabinets with instruments, jugs, tubes and containers of various sizes were neatly aligned along the left side of the room. Which left the two small desks and a couple of chairs on the right side.

She noticed that the girl (Thea) had already placed the boy on it and tried to make him comfortable and Nessa smiled in approval. She walked to the left side of the room taking off the satchel from her shoulders and placing it in the cabinet on witch a basin filled with water stood. A bar of soap was next to it so she washed her hands before she approached the patient. Once again she checked the boy’s breathing and pulse, both were a bit stronger than before, indicating that he would wake soon. She glanced at the girl (Thea) and noticed she brought her hands to her mouth and was apparently praying.

- His heartbeat is stronger and judging by his breathing it will not be long before he wakes up. – She informed the girl and went to one of the cabinets to get a basin if the boy should experience nausea and expel the content of his stomach, all the while continuing to calmly explain the boy’s condition. – When he wakes he will be confused and won’t remember what happened and how he got here. He will most likely look to you for explanation. Also he might experience dizziness and nausea, so that’s why I brought a basin. Please don’t be scared, everything that I’m talking you through now is perfectly normal when a person receives a blow to the head.

She heard a knock on the door and went to open it; the woman whose name still escaped her brought the kettle with hot water. Nessa thanked the woman and closed the door to the room. Walking towards the cabinets she glanced at the girl who appeared not to be as tense as before. It was a long way from calm she mused as she placed the kettle on the counter, found two cups and the jar labelled camomile, placed a spoonful of it in the cups and poured hot water in the cups.

- While we wait for him to wake up you should drink this. – She said as she took a cup with camomile tea to the girl. – Fear not little dove, it’s just camomile, and it will soothe you. – She gave the girl a warm smile and continued. – We’ll see how will he react when he wakes up and decide how to proceed based on his behaviour. Most likely he’ll stay in the Houses of Healing a bit longer, a day most likely, so we can observe his condition, however, based on what I’ve seen so far I think he will recover without issues.
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Thea with Nessa

"Please don't let him die.. please don't let him die.." she chanted under her breath, worriedly watching the boy breathing. Though as soon as Nessa joined them, her eyes were locked on the woman, watching her every move, at times impatiently as Nessa took her time to wash her hands first. Switching the weight onto her other foot, she leaned a bit to see what Nessa was doing, guessing she was taking a pulse. Guessing being the operative word as she had no idea what needed doing or how to do it.

Thea nodded breathlessly as Nessa gave the first update, relieved to hear that the boy's heartbeat was stronger and that he would wake soon, though still watched Nessa like a hawk when she went to get a bowl. However the biggest relief came from hearing that the boy was likely not going to remember anything, her stomach dropping once more as she recalled just how hard the creepy woman had slammed the door into the boy. Biting fretfully at her finger, she tried to stem her own nausea, hoping the boy didn't spill his guts when he woke as that seemed like an added punishment for him to endure.

Thea nodded absentmindedly at what Nessa was saying, though she in truth had not idea what came with headwounds or not and so she thought that the hot water was for some kind of medicine that needed to be made for the boy. Surprise and disbelief shone on her face when the woamn handed it to her to drink, though never reaching for it.

"What!? Wait!? What do you mean, wait!? Help him now! He needs help, give him some medicine or something, please, help him!" Thea's voice rose with every word, bordering on hysteria, sick with worry and guilt. Lucky for her the bowl had been placed near the boy and she quickly stepped over and snatched it, losing the lunch she had eaten not that long ago. Now there was a wasted stolen coin she thought, half laughing hysterically, half choking on her vomit.

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room

When Nessa made the decision to brew a cup of camomile tea for the girl (Thea) she was under no illusion that the girl will immediately and gratefully take it and calmly drink it like she having tea and cakes with the nobles of Gondor. Based on the girl’s behaviour she expected hesitation, and even suspicion; perhaps someone once placed something into her drink. For this reason she tried to patiently explain what she was doing and make sure the girl (Thea) understood why those decisions were made. However, it did not appear to her that the girl would be in such a state of agitation, almost bordering on hysteria that she would make herself ill.

- What!? Wait!? What do you mean, wait!? Help him now! – The girl’s voice rose with every word and Nessa’s worry intensified; something was very wrong here she thought as the girl continued. – He needs help, give him some medicine or something, please, help him!

Before she could answer the girl (Thea) went over to the basin, took it and emptied the content of her stomach into it. Quickly Nessa put the cup of camomile tea away and stepped in to help, moving the girl’s hair out of the way and gently rubbing her back. When the heaving stopped and the girl emptied the whole content of her stomach into the basin Nessa took it from her and set it aside.

- You need to sit down. – She said as she gently put her hand on the girl’s lower back. Seeing that the girl was going to protest, which could lead to another wave of nausea and vomiting which would make the girl even fainter, Nessa switched to the tone of voice she used when her daughter Ellin refused to listen. – Please, you need to sit down! You are not well, and you need to rest a bit in order to calm your stomach. Please sit. – She said firmly, leading the girl towards the chairs. – I’ll bring a bowl with water and a washcloth so you can clear your face.

She moved back to the other end, found another basin that she placed next to the boy. She found a jug with water, a large bowl and a washcloth, took all of it into her arms and brought where the girl was.

- I brought a washcloth and water to clean your face, and the empty bowl is next to it if you think you’ll be sick again. – She said firmly, but made no move to wash the girl’s (Thea) face until the girl gave her a sign she could do so. She did not want to upset the girl further, and she would rather wait a bit, than cause more harm. With that in mind she took a deep breath to centre herself and try to reassure the girl about the boy’s condition.

- Remember a moment ago when I told you that the boy is well and that we just need to wait a bit until he wakes up? He needs to wake up on his own, because if I try to wake him up I could end up doing more harm to him than good. – She emphasised the last bit in an effort to help the girl understand and accept the situation. – That’s why we have to wait a bit for him, to do no further harm to him. I’d also like for you to sit here a bit, rest and drink some camomile tea to soothe your stomach. I give you my word of honour that the only thing in that cup is camomile and hot water; I did not sweeten it nor add anything to it. Upon my word as a de Argosy I swear it! – She said and another thought came to her. – If you do not believe me I will drink from the cup myself before you if you’d like. Or perhaps you’re not fond of camomile? I can make you mint tea instead. Whichever you prefer, but you need to drink the tea in small sips to calm your stomach, all right?
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Thea with Nessa

She was a right mess when the heaving finally stopped, tears streaming down her face from the exertion. She was in no real position to argue with Nessa and finally did as the woman asked, sitting herself down on one of the chairs in the room. Thea gratefully took the wet washcloth and hid her face in it, allowing for a few quiet sobs before wiping her face with it. What a weird and horrible day, she thought to herself, flashbacks of stealing the money, the weird lunch with the creepy woman, signing the oath in blood and then the horrid incident with the poor young boy.

Whether is was the cool cloth to her flushed face or the woman's calm voice, or more likely a combination of the two, the woman's words finally seemed to penetrate her addled mind. She loathed that she had to wait for the boy to wake on his own, but of course she did not want to cause him more harm and finally accepted that she was going to have to wait whether she wanted to or not.

It was a bit arder for her to accept the offered tea, though at no point did she think the woman was trying to drug her, she was far too trusting of everyone for that to even occur to her. It was more that nothing was free in life, there was always a cost to it, though right now she could certainly do with something to settle her still roiling stomach as she did no want to throw up again and embarass herself again if front of this helpful woman.

"Ok.." she muttered as she took the offered drink, bringing it to her mouth and doing as told, only taking small sips. "Thank you.. oh and sorry" she said a little louder, giving the woman an embarassed smile.

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment Room (#3)

Nessa was relieved when she saw the girl (Thea) take the cup of camomile tea and started drinking in small sips. When the girl apologised with an embarrassed smile, she smiled gently.

– It’s all right sweetling, you don’t need to apologise. You haven’t done anything wrong. – She paused for a moment, searching for the right words to say to the girl without upsetting her further. – I won’t demean you by saying that I know exactly how you feel; the truth is I do not and I cannot know because I have not lived through what you lived through, nor had the same experiences you had… But I do know something of fear and worry for a young child… – She said while thinking of her daughter Ellin. – It was never easy for me when my daughter was ill and I had to wait for her to ride out the fever… Waiting is never easy, but sometimes there is nothing we can do but be patient and wait…

She stopped, unsure if she had said too much, presumed too much… She reminded herself that she still did not know either of their names, nor if they were related, or friends, or neighbours or random strangers. It made her uneasy, for she could not say with certainty how the boy would react when he woke up. Temporary memory loss was common with head injuries, but people usually knew their names, even if they couldn’t remember exactly how they got injured. Perhaps the girl’s agitation stemmed from fear that the boy would unknowingly say something he should not say, something that neither of them wanted to be known.

Her musings on the subject were interrupted by a noise coming from the treatment table. She turned and smiled, the boy was starting to regain consciousness. She turned to the girl (Thea) and said. – He seems to be coming to, I’ll be at his side to make sure he’s all right. Please don’t get up. You’re still a bit faint and I don’t want you to be sick again. Drink your tea slowly, let your stomach calm down and rest.

She walked back to the treatment table where the boy was slowly waking up. This time Nessa held the boy’s left arm straight, his palm facing upwards and placed her index and middle finger on her fingers on his wrist and counted. His pulse was normal, breathing stable and she saw that the boy was slowly opening his eyes and blinking like he wanted to chase away spots from them…

- Where… - The boy started to speak slowly. – Where am I?
- You’re in the Houses of Healing. – Nessa said softly. – You had an accident and a friend brought you here. My name is Nessa, I’m a healer and I’m going to take a look at you now if that’s all right?


OOC: (Sorry if I rushed this a bit, I wanted to type it out before I went to bed, because tomorrow I'll spend half the day in various meetings in Split's City Hall and that will eat my every remaining braincell I have :-/ )
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Thea with Nessa

The guilt hit her once more, just as hard as before, as Nessa so lovingly said it was not her fault. Letting out a stifled whimper, she used the cloth to wipe the new tears away. She tried to remind herself that technically she had done nothing wrong, but her mind kept pointing out that the boy would not have been hurt if she and the creepy woman had not gone to the library in the first place. Thea honestly did not know if it would be worse if this kind woman would be angry with her and blame her, or be this nice to her not knowing what had even happened.

But before Thea got a chance to even enlighten the woman on what had happened, Thea too heard the noise coming from the table where the boy was, almost jumping to her feet to go to him and only stalled by Nessa telling her to remain seated. It was all she could do not to go over to the boy anyways, but she knew well that there was nothing she could do for him, especially not if he needed more treatment.

But as for the tea, she was done with that, leaning all the way forward in the chair, barely sitting on it at this point so that she could see what was happening, her heart beating so furiously she was worried she would not be able to hear the boy if he spoke. At his first words she almost panicked, worrying that he had lost his memory, until it dawned on her that he would not necessarily know where he was if he had never been to the Houses of Healing.

It was however complete torture having to just sit there and wait for him to respond to Nessa, her hands clutching so tightly on the tea mug that they went white instead of red, her breath held as she waited for him to speak again.


OOC: Never apologise for RL, post when you can and more importantly when you want to! I can and will wait for you <3

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NPC Galenas
Reception


The gangly young fellow sidled in through the doors of the Hall, looking and feeling equally out of place. He removed his hat instinctively, feeling as though this place were somehow more solemn than the outdoors. It exposed a tousled, full head of hair that looked as though it had not been washed for at least a week. The streaks of grease were faintly visible on the inner rim of the hat, if one cared to look. Galenas did not know what to say, so he coughed loudly but nervously. Then, without waiting for a response, he called out afterward,

"Uh, hi, yeah, anybody home, or anything?"

He immediately knotted his belt, fumbling with his hands, and wringing them when his belt was too tight. He was sure he had said the wrong thing. He was on a mission from the Lady Arwen herself, and it was important! Well, okay, actually it was a mission from the lady-in-waiting Lothwen. But still, it was of top importance, and he had messed it up. He covered his bleary eyes. He hadn't even meant to leave the house this morning, exactly. He had just gotten caught up in things, you know? He'd had...other plans. Or well, no plans exactly, but if he'd had plans they wouldn't have been this. He blinked several times, hoping nobody would notice his not being altogether there. He had to get someone's attention, and pick up the correct delivery, or else. Or else what? He didn't know, but neither did he want to find out.

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room (#4)

The boy was still lying on the treatment table when Nessa introduced herself and told him where he was. She noticed the confused look on his face and a beginning of a frown when the boy tried to remember how he got from wherever he obtained his injury to the Houses of Healing. The boy’s face scrunched up in a frown and he tried to get into a sitting position, but she put her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

- Not so fast little lion man. – She said with a smile and the boy stilled, trying to focus his eyes on her. – Please don’t make any sudden movements, all right? I’m going to help you sit up, but slowly. – She emphasised the last part and the boy nodded his head slightly. She placed her arm around his shoulders in preparation and said. – On the count of three? One, two, three…

Carefully, observing the boy’s reactions she helped him get into a sitting position and stepped away from him.
- Are you dizzy? Do you feel like you might be sick?
- A bit woozy. – The boy replied after a pause. – Don’t think I’ll throw up.
- All right. – She replied, making note of his answers, aware that the unknown girl (Thea) was also listening to their conversation. Adding this new information to the already observed and established notes about the boy’s current health condition, Nessa made a mental note about the need to write all this down in a chart after she finishes the boy’s examination. – I’m going to examine you further and ask you a few questions about how you’re feeling. But first can you tell me your name?
- Tom, my name is Tom. – The boy replied.
- Nice to meet you Tom. – She said giving him a smile. – I’m Nessa and I’ll start the exam by checking your eyesight.

She looked into his eyes and noticed that his pupils where slightly dilated; additionally Tom was frequently blinking like he was trying to chase away spots from his vision. Placing two fingers in front of the boy’s eyes she asked – How many fingers am I holding up Tom?
- Two. – He replied after a brief pause. He was still blinking frequently. – But everything’s a bit blurry miss. Will I see properly?
She could hear the concern and worry in his voice so she answered clearly and calmly. – Don’t worry, blurry vision or seeing black spots in front of your eyes is not unusual after you’ve hit your head. – She paused to see how the boy was taking in that information. Since this was the first time she saw Tom she had no baseline for his behaviour, but at the moment he did not appear sluggish or drowsy. – Do you have any other symptoms? For example a headache, or is the light in the room or noise bothering you? Is your stomach still upset?
- No miss, my head isn’t pounding. Should it? I don’t feel sick or anything, just a bit woozy is all… But I still can’t remember how I hit my head miss! And how I got here! And where’s my wagon cart?! – Tom exclaimed.
- Don’t worry if you can’t remember how you’ve hit your head. – She replied glad that Tom’s symptoms were mild, signifying that the blow to the head caused only a mild concussion. – The memory will come back to you, it will just take a bit of time. As for your wagon cart, I’m afraid I can’t help you there. However, your friend who brought you here might. – She said and moved slightly so the boy could see the girl (Thea) who sat at the edge of the chair looking at them.
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Thea with Nessa

The boy might not be feeling woozy, but Thea definitely was with the rollercoaster of emotions she went through as she waited to hear if he would be ok. It even went to relief that she did not have any children of her own, knowing for sure she would never be able to handle it if they got hurt, as kids were bound to.

It was all she could do not to get up, Nessa annoyingly standing in a way that blocked her view of the boy, even when she stepped back to examine him. It therefore took her by surprise when Nessa stepped back to allow the young boy to look at her, suddenly flustered and feeling on the spot. She knew the boy would not recognise her, but it seemed that Nessa did not know they they did not know each other.

Thea gave a shy smile and an awkward wave to Tom, coughing before managing to speak. "Um, we aren't exactly friends, I doubt he knows me as he did not see me. But hi.. Tom. My name is Thea and unfortunately I am the one that cause the bump on your head. I truly am sorry!"

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped one away with embarassment, guilt clearly shining on her face, though for these two they would likely think it was because of what she had "done", not knowing that she hadn't even been the one to do it.

"I don't know about your cart either, I did not see one where it happened, sorry."

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Reception
w/ daughter Zara Ellenweorc


Two women approached the houses of healing. If it were not for one of them having Salt and Pepper gray hair, they could almost be twins, they looked so much alike. 'How was Jairyth going to that place…' She snapped her fingers trying to think of the name.
'Ma, it's called Sweethaven. And it was fine,' the younger one replied. She pushed a white streak out of her eye, hand trembling.
'Sweetie, I'm your mother. I may be gone a lot of the time, but dammit, I know when my own daughter is lying to me.' She folded her arm, wearing the colors of the Westmark, and her Cavalry badges, mostly because it was some of the nicest things she owned, and because she figured the --what was the word for them?-- haelends would relate to another one of them better than just some random Rohir.
'And I don't want to talk about it, Ma.' The girl replied.
'Mmm, I get it.' The older woman replied. She opened the doors of the houses of Healing and took a deep breath. The moment she did though, she felt a sudden urge to leave. Memories returned of the past, and she did not want to be here and experience them.
'Ma?' The young woman asked. When she got no response, she tapped her mother on the shoulder, then signed, 'Are you all right?'
'Hmm? Oh…' She shrugged as she continued in their signed language, 'Memories returning.'
'What memories? You never were in this place before, were you?'
'No. It just reminds me of all the trauma. I don't like it. Anyway, ready to be translator?'
'I guess so.' She looked around and said, 'Hello? We're here to see someone in recovery?' The young girl spoke fluent Westron, unlike her mother, and it seemed almost flawless.
Suddenly Rowena burst out laughing.
'What is so funny?'
'Oh I just had the thought that your aunt Shiva would give me a lecture and a half about not knowing Gondorian-speak and coming here,' she signed.
'It's called Westron Ma, and you're lucky not to be getting a lecture from me.'
'Zar, I know you think I should learn it, but is it not enough that I had to relearn my own mother tongue? I'm old, darlin'. Old people don't learn languages as easy.'
'You learned signed Rohirric just fine.'
'Different. I'm very visual of a person.'
'Whatever, Ma.' Zara rolled her eyes, and tapped the counter as she waited.

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room (#5)

When Nessa moved aside to allow Tom to see the girl (Thea) she was aware that the girl might feel that she had been put on the spot. Unfortunately, there was no other way around it – in order for her to treat the boy she had to block the girl’s view. People, especially the patient’s family or friends didn’t always like the fact that they couldn’t keep an eye on their loved one while the healer was treating them, but the healer’s primary task and focus was always on the patient and their wellbeing.

Despite the fact that she put the girl (Thea) on the spot Nessa was pleased to notice that the girl recovered quickly and gave a shy smile.
- Um, we aren’t exactly friends, - the girl replied emphasising the word. – I doubt he knows me as he did not see me. But hi… Tom. My name is Thea and unfortunately I am the one that caused the bump on your head. I truly am sorry!

Standing to the side so she could observe both of them Nessa listened to the girl was glad when Thea introduced herself. So now she had a name to go with a face, along with a story that might not have been told in full, but at least it did not appear to go towards the dark and ugly place she first assumed. She listened as Thea continued talking and informed the boy that she did not know where his cart was. Tom looked a bit crestfallen by the information, but he still looked Thea straight in the eyes and smiled at her.

- Thanks for bringing me here miss. You saved me. Truly! – He said emphatically. – You could have minded your own business and left me there, but you didn’t! You got me here, so thank you miss!

By the end of his speech Tom started to wave his hands around and nod his head emphatically, but suddenly winced and brought his right hand to the back of his head feeling the goose egg bump there.

- Ouch! Forgot about that for a moment. – He said sheepishly.
- Easy there little lion man. Does your head hurt much? – Nessa asked while looking at the boy. She was debating whether to give him willow bark for the pain with his tea or not. She vaguely remembered hearing from a healer in the Houses during the War, that one should be cautious about giving willow bark as a pain relief with head injuries… Or perhaps she read that in a scroll here during one of her breaks. Clearly she would have to refresh her memory. For now she would proceed with caution.
- Only when I move or I touch it.
- All right. Why don’t I make you some camomile tea to start and then I’ll go fetch some ice for the bump on your head.
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NPC Kaylyn
Reception


Slightly out of breath from the brisk pace she had used to get there, Kaylyn entered the Reception area of the Houses of Healing and, seeing there wasn't a big crowd waiting for attention, took a moment to catch her breath before making herself known. She patted a strand of her mouse-brown hair back into place in the crown braid she wore her hair in, which looped fully around her head in an attempt to keep it from flying all over the place - a task which it had failed after today's rushing.

Stepping further into the room she noticed a gangly lad (Galenas/@KingODuckingham ) nervously adjusting his clothing, and gave a reassuring smile in his direction - everyone was young and uncertain once, and she was sure the time would fly by before her own son was just the same. She assumed that the young lad had already called for assistance, but decided to add her own voice before taking a seat. "Good day, Healers" she called, knowing that it was a busy place and that they would be seen to in good time. She made her way over to one of the wooden chairs, on the far side of the table from the door, so she could see anyone arriving or leaving. Upon sitting, she noticed pen and parchment on the table. "Oh thank goodness, I had no time to bring my own, and I will certainly need it to write down the details of the medicine for Lothwen, for I would be afraid of forgetting something important otherwise" she muttered to herself, as she scooped up a single piece of the parchment and one pen, then sat back to rest while she waited to be seen.
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Thea with Nessa

There was no way that Tom could have known that his wording would set off such an array of emotions in Thea, her face flushing, going stark white, then almost throwing up again. The creepy woman had wanted her to just leave the boy there, to prop him up and make it look like he had just fallen asleep. She might not know much about the healing business, but she did know that head wounds were nothing to be trifled with. She had seen for herself how people could completely change due to a head wound, or even never wake, staying permanently unconcious. Obviously there had been a lot of head injuries that occured during the war and one was bound to know someone who knew someone. Like how Lily's dad had suddenly changed into a completely different person, who didn't even know his own daughter.

Gulping down hard on her emotions, she forced a smile back on as Tom continued to thank her, not knowing how close he had been to being left to fend for himself. However all the talking was obviously painful for him and as he winced, Thea could not stop herself from jumping to her feet, only stayed by the fact that Nessa did not seem to think this was out of the ordinary.

However she only got a moment of relief as Nessa spoke of making more tea and getting some ice before the boy suddenly threw up all over the floor. Thea let out a cry of alarm and took several more steps towards the boy, though she did not know what to do. 'Was that normal, Nessa did say it was normal, didn't she? Yes! She did, she brought the basin for that very reason!' Those thoughts snapped through her mind in a second, again darting forward in alarm as she saw Tom beginning to fall forward towards Nessa.

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Pele Alarion with Durien Arrandir
Treatment Room


Pele took the mug and sipped the concoction Durien had made. She had decided not to be a difficult patient; besides, she had already almost gotten used to various teas as she had made attempts at recovery, so how bad could this really be? Also, she wanted to get back into usable shape rather sooner than later, so it was best to make use of any possible means required for the purpose.

Having been notified that a scar would remain, Pele took a hearty drink of the tea, as she thought of it. "Well, I would take a scar any day over that 'decoration' that was there," she told her friend, half-guessing that Durien knew what had happened and deciding that she might just as well be rather plain about it. "Besides, I already have a plenty of scars as a reminder, so one more would not make that much difference anyway." She couldn't help but wonder whether the physical scars were even the first part, and if she would ever manage to overcome the invisible wounding. Perhaps it would have been better to remain in hiding out of the public eye...

"I don't mind the pain..." she then said, "not when it brings healing." She had experienced so much of it that even suffering through removal of the mark had not been that bad, not as bad as being branded, though that had been a different category of pain. She was not sure how she had managed to preserve the sense of identity and sanity through it all.

Having drunk the tea, Pele took the offered cup of whiskey. "I would prefer to stay here at the Houses for some time," she mentioned, "to heal up a bit more... before I take on some serious healing duties and all." She pretty much assumed that Durien would have insisted on it anyway, and preferred to volunteer for it herself. She then chugged down the whiskey in one go. The strong drink burned her throat and caused quite a coughing fit.

"Bring it on," she managed to say, once she had subdued the cough, though the burning in her throat remained, and she felt a bit more nauseous and slightly dizzy from the drink.
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Reception area - NPCs Ralph the Receptionist and Matilda, a young nurse in the Houses of Healing

Ralph, a portly elderly gentleman with grey hair, short white beard and moustache, worked at the reception in the Houses of Healing. Everyone in the Houses (and even some in the city) knew him and referred to him as Ralph the Receptionist, like his profession was his family name. He didn’t mind when folks called him that, after all he worked as a receptionist at the Houses from his teens and he was as much a fixture of the Houses as the healers and nurses. He was diligent, organised and hardworking, running the reception like a tight ship; ensuring that healers’ schedules were in order and ensuring that supplies that were ordered arrived where there were supposed to arrive in a timely and orderly fashion.

However, Ralph was a gentleman of a certain age, and when a man lived as long and full of life as he did, one acquired bladder problems along with skills and wisdom. So one had to understand and excuse if from time to time he needed to leave his post at the reception to use the privy chamber. But the call of nature wasn’t the main reason why he was so delayed; his help was needed in the storage room and as he finished sorting that issue out his path crossed with young Matilda. The nurse was kind enough to walk with him to the reception area updating him on the whereabouts of the healers and their patients so he could enter the new information into his chart.

Preoccupied as he was with sorting all of this new data and making sure that he remembered names, rooms and patients’ conditions correctly he was more than slightly surprised when he noticed that the reception area was filled with people! People who were waiting for him to direct him where they needed to go and who they needed to see. His eyes scanned the crowd noticing a gangly youth (Galenas) with greasy hair who held his hat in his hands, fumbling with it nervously. A mousy haired lady (Kaylyn) with her hair in a crown braid looped around her head sat in a wooden chair. But when his eyes saw the two Rohirrim ladies (Rowena and Zara) of who one wore colours of the Westmark and was that a Marshal badge?! he was starting to feel rather awkward!

- Oh my! – He softly exclaimed and turned to Matilda. – Matilda my dear, your Rohirric is better than mine, and lady over there is a Marshal from Westmark! They must be here to visit a kinsman… Will you go great them and help them?
The nurse nodded and went over to the two Rohirrim; he heard her greeting them in Rohirric and gratefully turned to the other two people in the reception area.
- Madam, sir! – He greeted the lady (Kaylin) first for he was unsure who came first, she or the youth (Galenas). Besides it was right and proper to greet a lady first. – My apologies for not being here to greet you when you arrived. My name is Ralph, and I work as a receptionist in the Houses. Please let me know how I may assist you today.


OOC: (@KingODuckingham, @Fairy Nuff feel free to tell Ralph why you're here, so he can direct you to whom you need to see, where you need to go etc. For my darling HoH colleagues :smiley17: if you or your NPCs are available feel free to step in and aid these two. :-) )

NPC Matilda greeting Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc at the Reception

If the situation was not slightly embarrassing Matilda would have found Ralph’s predicament and nervousness that arose from it rather amusing. She liked the old receptionist, he was hardworking and kind, and ready to give out a hand whenever the healers, nurses or other staff of the Houses needed. Bearing that in mind she just nodded her head, smoothed her dim grey kirtle and went to great the two Rohirric ladies.

People tended to assume that because of her honey golden hair and cornflower blue eyes that she was Rohirric herself, or that she had kin there. As far as she knew she had no kin in Rohan, but with the death of her parents during the siege of Minas Tirith it was difficult to ascertain that. During the War she was frequently assigned to care for the wounded soldiers from Rohan and many of them called out to her in Rohirric not knowing that she did not understand them; for she was Minas Tirith born and raised.

Because of those people under her care she started learning their language, persisted in using it when she was speaking with her patients from Rohan although she and they knew she sometimes used the wrong words, pronounced things wrongly or mixed up tenses. But the Rohirrim were kind and rather than laugh at her, they helped her correct her mistakes. She still spoke Rohirric with a Gondorian accent, she feared she would never lose that, but she could speak and understand enough to communicate with the people Rohan and for them to understand her.

- Westu hál! – She greeted the Marshal (Rowena) and the woman who looked to be her daughter (Zara). She continued to speak Rohirric, but slightly slower that she usually did with her patients, because she did not wish to embarrass herself in front of an important person. – My name is Matilda, and I am a nurse at the Houses. I assume the Marshal and her daughter are here to see one of your kinsman in the rooms of recovery? If you would be so kind to tell me the patient’s name I will take you to see him or her.


OOC: (@Rowena Ellenweorc - I thought a nurse, rather than a healer would be more appropriate for your visit. I hope that's OK, and please feel free to comment on Matilda's knowledge of Rohirric. Or lack of it. :smiley9: )
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NPC Kaylyn
Reception


Not long had passed, and Kaylyn's thoughts had barely started to wander, when a kindly looking older gentleman entered the reception area, and came over to introduce himself to her and to the gangly youth as Ralph the Receptionist. She smiled, she had heard of Ralph, who was well known at the Houses of Healing, having served so many years there. Kaylyn stood to greet him as as right and proper with one of greater age, and introduced herself in turn, hoping the young man didn't mind waiting a moment while she described her urgent errand. "I am pleased to meet you Ralph. I am Kaylyn, and I am here on Crown business. You see, I have been entrusted by Queen Arwen's handmaiden Lothwen to obtain some medicine for the Queen, so she might feel better for a special meal tonight. I am to return to Lothwen with all speed to provide both the medicine and instructions for its use. Who can I speak to to find this medicine and its directions please?" she asked.
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Reception

A blond woman approached the two darker-haired women. She greeted them in Rohirric, which instantly made Rowena go on high alert. Her steel eyes darkened, glaring at the nurse. She did not trust Gondorians on a good day. And she trusted Gondorians who spoke Rohirric even less. AND she was a strawhead on top of it? What was this woman? A wannabe Rohir? She hissed at the woman.
Zara on the other hand, was less prone to prejudice against Gondorians, having spent much of her life in Gondor, and being married to one. She placed on hand on her mother's arm. 'Ma. Relax. They wouldn't let people who are dangerous work here.'
Rowena snorted. 'You and I have two very different definitions of dangerous,' she gestured.
'MA!' Zara turned to the nurse and explained in flawless Westron, 'My apologies. Gondorians who speak Rohirric have caused a lot of the troubles my family faces on a daily basis. Ironically, those Gondorians are part of the reason we're here. You have a patient here, who we believe was attacked by these people who plague our family. My mother wants to visit with Lady Volorwin. It is possible we may even be able to provide insight into her care.'
Rowena tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for her daughter to interpret. When the girl did, she grimaced. 'I am giving no one advice. I fully intend to treat Mother Volorwin myself.'
'MOTHER! You can't just take over another person's case!'
'Watch me!' She gestured angrily.
Zara glared at her mother. 'Calm down, mother.'
'How can I? This woman is old, she could die! And as far as we know, she's not involved herself in what's been going on.'

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment room (#6)

One moment she was talking to Tom about making tea and fetching some ice to reduce the swelling on the goose egg bum on his head and in the next he looked a bit peaky and suddenly threw up all over the floor. The vomiting part wasn’t really unexpected, Nessa expected it to happen sooner or later; apparently emptying the content of one’s stomach decided to make its grand entrance in a spectacular fashion now and completely ignore the basin she put there for that purpose.

She saw Thea jumping to her feet, the girl was a ball of nervous energy, and moving towards the treatment table, but before she could tell the girl to stay put, Tom had stopped vomiting. He was pale as a sheet, and it seemed that all that energetic (or energetic as a boy with a concussion who just woke up could be) gesticulating around while he was thanking Thea took his toll. She would need to get ice here soon to bring down the swelling and force the boy to lie down and not move. In addition she would have to find Thea something to do as well, the girl practically radiated anxiety and a desire to help, so Nessa thought giving her a useful task would have a calming effect on her.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind Tom’s head lolled and his body moved toward. She caught the boy, carefully avoiding the content of his stomach on the floor and gently placed him in a recovery position on the treatment table. She thought about her next steps and turned to Thea. It was time to give the girl a task, and in all honesty she did need a pair of helping hands.

- Thea. – She called the girl and started speaking in a calm, but firm voice. – Please go outside and find a nurse or another member of staff. You will recognise the staff by their grey dresses. – She paused to see if the girl was listening and it appeared that she did, despite her nervousness. She continued with her instructions. – Ask them to fetch ice from the storage rooms and bring them here. We’ll need it to reduce the swelling of the lump on the back of Tom’s head. Also tell them to bring hot water, I’ll put a small amount of dried athelas leaves in.

Although, she was not sure that using athelas as pain relief with a patient who suffered a mild concussion was the proper way of utilising the healing herb, it did neatly solve her willow bark dilemma. When she apprenticed at the Houses of Healing during the War athelas was hardly in use. Mostly because the herb’s properties were forgotten before the return of the King, and healers’ preferred using other, more familiar and traditional herbs to subdue the pain such as the afore mentioned willow bark, or yarrow, milk of the poppy or even belladonna in carefully measured doses. She did not have King Elessar’s healing hands, but the story of how he used the herb was recorded and she would use it to aid her patient.


OOC: (@Winddancer you did say you wanted to be a healer's apprentice, and the reward for a job well done is another job to quote Louis McMaster Bujold. :smiley9: )
edit: of course I have typos I need to fix, as you do...
Last edited by Nessa Saelind on Thu Jun 18, 2020 8:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Thea with Nessa

Tears of guilt ran down her cheeks as she watched Nessa carefully guide the boy onto his side on the treatment table, her hands going to her moth where she nervously gnawed on a red finger. Had it not been for the firmness in Nessa's tone, Thea would likely still be rooted to the spot, her eyes locked on the boy. Eager to be of help, but loathe to leave the room, The took another long moment before she drew in a shuddering breath and finally nodded. "Ok.."

Wiping her wet cheeks, she headed back out the door and once through it she increased her pace, almost running down the corridor in search of someone with a grey dress. With this increased pace, she took a corner a little too quickly and almost barreled into two women as they came towards her, the older of the two letting out a startled cry.

"Oh! Blessed be child, what IS your hurry!?"

"Sorry! Oh, I am so sorry, but please Nessa needs a little help. She needs some ice and um.. some hot water, something about a dreaded athelas??"

Thea looked at them hoping that they would know what Nessa was needing and let out a sigh of relief when she saw them smile softly.

"Ice and hot water, not worries dearie. You head back to her and let her know we will bring it right away. Oh! And please, no running. We don't need more accidents here, ok?" The elder woman gave Thea a stern stare, but the twinkle in her eyes softened it enough to not upset.

Thea quickly nodded and headed back to the room, opening the door softly. "Um.. they will bring it soon they said" she added as she slowly stepped closer. "Is he ok?"

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Reception – NPCs Ralph the Receptionist with Kaylyn

The mousy haired lady smiled and stood to greet him, introducing herself as Kaylyn. It was always lovely to see good breeding and proper manners being instilled in the younger generation. He listened carefully what Kaylin was saying and was somewhat surprised to hear that the Queen herself was in need of medicine and instruction how to take it from the Houses of Healing. Not that a person coming to the Houses of Healing and asking for a medicinal product for themselves or another was a strange thing, after all this was a hospital. However, their lovely and wise Queen was an elf maiden (or not a maiden anymore if one wanted to get technical, but Ralph refused to let his mind wander to that territory) and although he didn’t know much about elves he knew that they were not prone to illnesses.

- Usually any medicinal product for either the King or Queen would be prepared by mistress Findulias. – He replied trying to remember if he saw her come in to the Houses. She did not go through the Reception are if she did, and young Matilda did not report seeing her. – However as far as I know she is not in the Houses today. Has lady Lothwen provided any details for what the medicine is for? I apologise for asking this, I realise that perhaps it is not my place to ask… – He said apologetically. – However since mistress Findulias has not arrived, and she is the one who prepares anything that the royal couple needs herself… I would hesitate to go to another healer or one of mistress’ Findulias’ apprentices without more information.

***
NPC Matilda with Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc at the Reception

As soon as Matilda finished greeting the Rohirric ladies she noticed that the Marshal’s (Rowena) body language changed, becoming openly hostile. Her mind quickly went over the words she spoke to the women to see if she used the wrong tense, butchered the pronunciation, or Eru save her said the wrong pronouns! She made all those mistakes, especially early on when she was starting to learn Rohirric, but she didn’t think she confused pronouns today, or used the wrong tenses. Her pronunciation could be the issue, she did speak with a Gondorian accent and some people were highly sensitive to that.

But the younger of the two women (Zara) cleared the air when she spoke in perfect Westron and explained that they were here to see Lady Volorwin and provide insight into her care. While the daughter translated what she said to her mother, apparently madam Marshal didn’t speak Westron, Matilda went over the list of patients in the recovery and remembered Lady Volorwin, a nice elderly Gondorian who was brought comatose to the Houses of Healing after she had a stroke. After she regained consciousness she was exhibiting signs of dementia; memory loss and difficulties with language. The healers recommended that the nurses talk to her as frequently as they could, but be careful not to upset the patient. Matilda, who was naturally a friendly person and liked to talk to her patients, would do even without the healers’ advice.
So naturally she was confused when she heard the Marshal say she was intending to treat Lady Volorwin. She blinked in confusion while the two women continued their debate. Had she misunderstood something, or was there more than one person with the same family name? It was unusual enough that she would know if two women from the same family were in the recovery rooms of the Houses of Healing.

- Excuse me. – She spoke carefully in Rohirric again, interrupting the pair’s debate. – I apologise if I misunderstood what you were saying now Marshal, but Lady Volorwin was brought to the Houses of Healing after a stroke. After she regained consciousness she showed symptoms of memory loss and had difficulty speaking. The hælends – she was careful of her pronunciation aware that the Marshal (Rowena) was not in a friendly disposition towards her at the moment – diagnosed her with dementia and we have been caring for her in the rooms of recovery since. I assure you we have been doing everything in our power to aid Lady Volorwin with her recovery.

***
Nessa with Thea – Treatment room (#7)

Nessa saw Thea nodding her head, acknowledging that she understood what she needed to do and then head out through the door. While the girl went in search for a nurse she went over to the shelves with neatly labelled jars and bottles with herbs searching for the one labelled athelas. She had a stroke of luck, for the jars and bottles in the room where put on the shelves in alphabetical order, and as soon as she realised that it was easy to find what she was looking for.

Taking the jar with athelas of the shelf she went first towards the treatment table to take the basin, and then walked to the counter where she left the kettle. She poured the rest of the water from the kettle into the basin, it was leaning towards lukewarm rather than hot now, but hopefully the effect would be the same. She was dealing with a concussion, not the Black Breath thank the Valar. She opened the jar and took a leaf of athelas and crushed it into the water. Immediately the herb’s refreshing, clear scent spread through the room.

She took the basin with the crushed athelas and some cloths to the treatment table, once again careful where she was stepping. She felt bad for the poor soul who would be assigned to clean this room after her, but it was all in the line of duty. She heard the door to the room opening as she was checking Tom’s pulse and when she turned she saw that Thea had returned.

- Um… They will bring it soon they said. – Thea told her while she stepped closer to them. – Is he ok?
She looked at the girl and offered a reassuring smile. – Yes, he will be all right. He overexerted himself talking and gesticulating. – She started explaining as she wet the washcloth in the basin, wrung it and started cleaning the boy’s face. – The bump on his head is swollen and it’s creating pressure, and the pressure on his head increased with sudden movements.

The door opened in the middle of her speech and the same older women whose name she still couldn’t remember came in carrying a larger kettle with boiling water and ice in a bowl.
- Thank you ma’am. Could you please give the bowl with ice to Thea here and put the kettle on the cabinet over there please?
The older women smiled and gave Thea the bowl with ice; the girl looked confused and slightly alarmed by this new development. She left the larger kettle on the cabinet and took the empty one.
- I’ll send someone to clean the floor. – The woman said before she left the room and Nessa thanked her.
She looked at Thea who was still holding the bowl with ice and gestured to her to come to the other side of the treatment table.
- I’ll need you to take a washcloth and put some ice from the bowl in it. – She instructed the girl. – Then you’ll wrap the washcloth around the ice and gently place it on the bump on his head right there. – She showed Thea where she needed to place the ice. – And keep it there for a while in order to minimise the swelling. All right?


OOC: (@Fairy Nuff @Rowena Ellenweorc @Winddancer - the turtle has landed :smiley9: off you go folks :D )
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Reception - Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc of Rohan.
Rowena snarled at the woman who still insisted on speaking to them in Rohirric. 'I don't give a bloody damn what your awful healers say she had. You don't bloody know anything about this particular poison, and I do. And when I say that she has the same symptoms as five other people we've lost to it, you had better damned well listen to me. I am not losing another to this Isen based poison if I can help it. So you had damn well better take me to Lady Volorwin this instant. Is that clear?' Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but her tone was strong, as if she had been yelling
Zara rolled her eyes. 'MAMA! Relax just a little bit. I get it. You're worried. I am too… but yelling at someone only trying to help won't get us anywhere!' She looked at the poor nurse, and again spoke in Westron, 'Ma'am, two things, it'd be wise if you don't speak to us in Rohirric. I'll translate. It makes my mother's mood worse. And second, please just take us to Lady Volorwin. My mother simply wants to make an analysis for herself, as this is a poison that has taken many lives. She worries because her aunt and uncle who are close to Lady Volorwin's age also died from this poison, and she wasn't here to help rescue them. Surely you can understand that.'
Rowena snarled. 'Zara stop talking already. We aren't getting their any faster by you saying whatever you're saying,' she gestured. 'And no. I'm not going to relax. Not even in the slightest. I have to fight for Mother Volorwin. No one else will, because I'm the one with the knowledge.'
Zara sighed and gestured back, 'It's still better to be polite, Mama. You of all people should know that.'
'Fine… just ask her if the woman's husband is alive, or he just dropped dead suddenly. Also ask if she presented any psychological behaviors that were off.'

Zara nodded and asked, 'Ma'am… has her husband been by to see her? And is there any report of her condition prior to being brought in here? Odd changes in behavior, and whatnot?'


@Nessa Saelind Just FYI if it's whited out in the actual text, it's Rowena's signed Rohirric. )

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NPC Galenas

The young boy had released his question like a flock of doves into the room, but he had not had the mental fortitude to hold things together until a response came. Before the receptionist had appeared, Galenas had mentally dozed off. Oh, his eyes were still wide open. Maybe a bit too wide open. But their blankness betrayed that the mind behind them had fled, racing through fields of flowers and mushrooms, all brightly colored and oh so delectable. Truly, a selection worthy of a feast. He stared in awe, wondering which one to pick first. Then the kindly voice pierced the intellectual haze under which Galenas semi-permanently operated.

He blinked, and looked up. A stout older fellow stood in front of him, being entirely too patient with the bird-brained youth. What had he asked? For directions? For what directions Galenas needed? The young man fumbled with his hat, dropping it in order to pull out a scrawled list from his pack.

"Oh bother," he muttered, or something like, as his hat fell. He scanned the list of instructions, then mumbled,

"Uh, yeah, sorry to bother you, it's not for me though. I need to get something for the Lady's," he bobbed his head slightly in respect, "naus...nau-see?" He looked up. "I think it's like a list of ingredients or a potion or something?" he said, a bit helplessly. "I'm not really sure to be honest. Can you help with that, sir?"

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Thea with Nessa

She watched in silence as Nessa carefully cleaned Tom's face, though she could not keep her hands still, each clutching the other as she twisted and turned them. Though Nessa was assuring her the boy would be alright, she had a tendency to focus on the more grim part of the reassurance and again feeling horribly guilty for having played a part in the head wound to begin with. Granted, this was not something she would have done were she alone, but it was an accident, right? Even she, who always thought the best of people, could not fully believe that it had been an accident. That shove of the door seemed a little too hard. And, the woman had heard there was someone on the other side. But she didn't know it would be a little boy, right!? So who did the woman think was there? And why did she think it was necessary to open the door that way?

Thea swallowed hard, wishing she had just stayed in bed today as she had not had a worse day in her whole life. Maybe this was her punishment because she had stolen from Ms Irma. Well reappropriated, in her own opinion, as Thea was sure Ms Irma had stolen the money from her to begin with!

"What? Oh.. um thanks.."Thea looked at the bowl of ice, not even having noticed that the women had entered. Thea followed Nessa's instructions without a word, her brows now continuously furrowed with worry and wrapped a couple of ice cubes into the washcloth and with a shaking hand she carefully placed it on the boy's head.

"It won't be too cold, will it?" she fretted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

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NPC Matilda with Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc of Rohan – Reception

When Matilda first started working as a nurse in the Houses of Healing she was under no illusions that her job would be easy. Nursing was hard work, both physically and psychologically; especially since they took care of people when they were at their most vulnerable and some of them tended to lash out. People were messy and difficult and complicated; not at all easy to work with. As the Marshal (Rowena) was berating her, she remembered the advice of the Head Nurse when the woman found her crying in the staff room after a particularly horrible day.

Don’t let the bastards grind you down.” The woman had said to her, and it took a while for Matilda to truly understand and implement the short but powerful piece of wisdom. She remained calm and professional, like she was trained to be (although, it was not easy), as the Marshal (Rowena) spoke about an Isen based poison and how the healers made a mistake in the case of Lady Volorwin. Misdiagnosis could happen, although they were rare in the Houses of Healing, and although, she did not know if that was the case here or not, regardless of the Marshal’s berating of someone who did nothing wrong, something, an intuition of sorts told her that the Marshal and her daughter (Zara) were not making this up.

Thus when the younger woman spoke to her in Westron and warned her to use only that language, and that she would translate, Matilda merely nodded and continued to observe the pair. The women were speaking in gestures, using some kind of sing language she did not understand; the Marshal initiating the conversation and her daughter responding. Matilda waited patiently until the younger woman (Zara) turned to her and spoke her mother’s questions.

- According to the information we have of the patient Lady Volorwin is a widow. – She replied keeping her voice neutral. Since the kind elderly lady was brought in the Houses of Healing she had no visitors, which was appalling to say the least. – No other family members or friends have been to see her. – She continued using the same neutral tone; it was not up to her to pass judgement on other people, but she knew that if she had an elderly family member who had a stroke she would do everything in her power to visit at least once a month. Their elders deserved that much respect. – As for your last question, again according to the information given to the healers, and then passed on to the nursing staff, she was behaving oddly just prior to the stroke… I apologise if this information is not sufficient, you will have to speak to the attending healer about it. For now I can take you to see her, she will most likely be in the gardens at this hour.

***
NPC Ralph the Receptionist with Galenas – Reception

Before Kaylyn had the chance to answer to his enquiry the gangly and slightly dazed youngster (Galenas) spoke, rather uncertainly, about needing to get something for the Lady’s nausea and continued rambling about a list of ingredients for a potion.

Ralph’s face wrinkled in confusion, he thought he detected a capital L when the youth said Lady. Could he and Kaylin be referring to the same person? Did both of them got sent to the Houses of Healing on a Quest from Lady Lothwen to obtain a medicine for the Queen?! A medicine for nausea?! Nausea! The Queen needed medicine because she was feeling unwell… Was the Queen with child?! A royal heir! How splendid!

However, before he could be overwhelmed with excitement, and not to mention accidentally blurt the wrong information and find himself exploring the insides of a cold, damp dungeon crawling with rats, lice and other unpleasant creatures; he needed to ascertain some things.

- A medicine for nausea you said young master? – He asked carefully. – Please forgive me for intruding, perhaps it is not my place to ask, but ah… The apothecary would need to have some information before making the potion… Is the Lady with child? – He asked with extreme caution lowering his voice to a whisper. – Is that why the medicine is needed?


***
Nessa with Thea – Treatment room (#8)

She watched as Thea carefully put a few cubes of ice on the washcloth and carefully wrapped it around the ice. If the girl’s face was not marked with a worried frown, Nessa would find this just a little bit amusing. Thea was making a cold compress with all the seriousness of a physician preparing to perform a trepanation. She berated herself for that comparison, it was in poor taste, and she certainly hoped that neither she nor anyone else would have to perform that procedure on poor Tom.

- It won’t be too cold, will it? – Thea asked after she carefully placed the wrapped ice on the boy’s head.
- No, no. The cold from the ice you placed in the washcloth will help to lower the swelling. – She started to explain just as she finished cleaning the boy’s face. She put the washcloth down and checked Thea’s work; the girl was doing a fine job. – And as the swelling lowers, the bump on Tom’s head will start to shrink, so there will be less pressure. And with less pressure on his head he won’t feel dizzy or nauseous. – She paused for a moment to check Tom’s pulse and breathing. Everything was stable, so she continued speaking. – Of course, he will need to stay here at the Houses of Healing for a day or two, depending on his condition. If there are no further symptoms or issues he’ll be sent home. I’ll have to speak to his parents or guardians about his injury and explain to them what he can and cannot do, and what signs to look for just in case. But I expect he’ll make a full recovery.

She finished her explanation and looked at Thea again. She was going over the girl’s reactions since she met her at the reception. Yes, she was nervous and frightened which led to a small outburst at the beginning, but she had seen worse reactions from patients’ friends and family. She managed to reign in her panic and follow instructions when Nessa needed to help. If she wanted to Thea would make a fine nurse. The job would not be easy, but at least her hands and arms wouldn’t be red and raw from washing laundry all day.

- Thea would you like me to take a look at your arms when you finish? – She asked gently not wanting the girl to feel ashamed or embarrassed of her job. There was nothing wrong with washing other people’s clothes for a living. – If you’d like I can make a poultice from marigold leaves for you to use on your hands and arms?


(Paging @Rowena Ellenweorc @KingODuckingham @Winddancer off you go, and if the Queen is indeed with child you did not hear this from Ralph :-) )
She/her.
Solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant
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Healer Linaiwe
Reception


The elderly healer had fallen asleep on a couch in the study, the book in her lap; the satisfying meal she had had not that long ago and the warmth of the sun falling on her had definitely helped with making her sleepy, no matter how interesting the book. Or perhaps that was the weakness of older people to nap whenever they could. At any rate she awoke to the sound of several voices coming from the reception. For a while she listened to determine whether she was needed or if she could continue napping, but eventually she decided that attending to her duties would be more important than staying in this comfortable sunny spot.

Fixing her long grey hair back into a neat bun at the back of her head, Linaiwe came out into the reception and found a small collection of people gathered there, and failing to make any sense of it all, she approached Ralph, the receptionist, and the lad (Galenas) he was talking to.

"Any way I can help?" she asked, assessing the youth for any obvious injuries and then looking at Ralph questioningly.
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Thea with Nessa

Thea's face paled even further when Nessa offhandedly mentioned having to talk with Tom's parents. Gulping back the acidic bile that rose to her mouth again, she did not even hear Nessa's question to begin with as what would his parents say? Would they blame her? Would they demand that she be punished somehow?

"Huh? My hands? What about them?" Confused Thea lifted the cold compress off for a moment, wondering if she had been pushing too hard and if that was what Nessa had meant, it only then dawning on her what the woman must have been talking about.

"Ooh! My hands, yeah.." Thea coughed with embarrassment, turning her hands both ways as she looked at them.

"They started going red when I started the job doing the laundry. I don't know if it is because they are in the water so much or because of the soap.." Thea's voice trailed off as she thought about it, remembering that she had long suspected that there was something different about the soap they used to wash the clothes. It somehow didn't seem right, or lather up like other soaps. Thea wouldn't put it past Ms Irma buying cheap bad soap intentionally so that she could pocket the difference herself.

"It's alright though, they don't hurt all that much.." Trying to change the subject, Thea put the cold compress back on Tom's head and asked "When will he wake up again?"


@Nessa Saelind OOC: I was thinking that there is too much lye in the soap and that is why her hands are red

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NPC Galenas

Oof, this was a lot to take in. First the receptionist goes off on a trembling rant, then some doctor person or something comes in the room looking at Galenas expecting him to do or say something? How do you even, like, handle so much pressure? He blinked hard. Galenas didn't really trust doctors at the most average of times, because he was afraid they would smell what sorts of things he had been cooking, and what he hadn't been washing. He knew they would judge him. Plus, the questions were difficult. Like, is the Lady pregnant? How would he know, he hadn't even seen her! What had the other lady asked? Something about help? Could she help?

All of this was going on behind Galenas' brain and eyes as he stared vacantly forward. He was a slow thinker. Not only did he lack natural intellectual gifts, but his mind had been stunted by a love of halfling-like products, though he himself had no knowledge of halflings. Thus, his time to process these questions stretched out for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, he turned to the ancient-looking healer or whatever she was, and said,

"Yeah, uh, I was sent here by a lady-in-waiting to gather ingredients for some kind of, like, potion thing, or something? For the Lady? All I was told is that she is suffering from..." he winced, knowing he was going to mess up the word written on the paper he had been given. Again. "Nausicaa. No, nauseuh. Something like that? I never heard that word but I was told you healer people would know what it was. I'm just delivery boy. Oh, and I'm taking notes." he added, a bit proud of himself for knowing how to write.

"Can you help me?" he asked, nervous about more clarification questions.

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Reception
Rowena relaxed a bit when the nurse started speaking Westron, and her daughter translated for her. Her steely eyes darkened. She knew the husband was alive just a couple months prior to when she recieved the information that Lady Volorwin was in the Houses of Healing. It was unfortunate, but more and more her fears were seeming to be well founded. With no husband around, it didn't surprise her that no one came to see her. Her son was in jail in Rohan, and as far as she could tell, her grandson didn't even know. The poor woman.
'Ma, are you all right?'
'Yes dear. I think we got here in time… and I think the staff are -- despite a misdiagnosis -- doing all the right things. You know as well as I do we can only treat the symptoms. The fact she's alive says a lot.'
'Do you want to see her then?'
'Yes, I do.'
Zara nodded and then looked at the nurse, 'Yes, please, we'd like to see the Lady Volorwin. And I promise my mother will be much kinder to her. She actually has a soft spot for her. You see the woman's son is in jail in Rohan, so the woman doesn't have anyone. Technically she has a grandson, but his loyalties are questionable.'

In War We Know Willpower, In Peace We Know Love~

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Unidentified elf - Treatment room

"Place her on this table, please. And close the door as you leave."

Shaela's tone brooked no argument and the two men who had carried the unconcious elf into the treatment room quickly headed out to continue their work, passing the two men who had followed them the whole way to the Houses of Healing. The two men merely shrugged their shoulders as Halbarad and Adrahil bombarded them with questions on the elf, neither of them able to answer.

The questions were immediately drowned out as the door fell shut, an eerie silence falling on the room that was only broken when Shaela finally spoke.

"Well, this is highly unusual.." she mused as she eyed the elf before her. She had never seen any elves herself, though had of course heard plenty of rumours about them.

"Alright girls, lets get to this before she gets any worse. Treat her as you would any other patient, you hear me?" Shaela eyed the three girls in the room one by one and waited for each to nod before turning back to the elf. "Get the scissors and let's cut the clothes off and see what we are dealing with here."

The four women worked in silence, each carefully removing the elf's black garments, none of them wincing or gasping at the sight of the bloody wounds that appeared as the fabric was peeled away. It was more than apparent that both legs were broken, one an ugly open wound fracture. With deft fingers, Shaela ran her slender fingers over every inch of the elf's battered and bruised body, feeling for more broken bones, though not finding more than the broken bones in the legs. Shaela carefully checked the elf's neck and scalp, and asked for a light as she carefully pried one of the elf's eyelids open.

"Oh! What.." Gasping the woman had let go of the elf's eyelid, looking at the other women to see if they had seen the same. Quickly she carefully lifted the eyelid again revealing the blood red iris. Shocked at what she was seeing, she quickly opened the other eye and heard one of the younger women gasp behind her. "What the.. how is this possible? Red eyes? It doesn't look like they are damaged in any way.. and the pupils are dialating as they should.. what is this devilry.."

For a long moment the women were taken aback, though they slowly recovered as the elf let out another groan of pain. "Right, um.. carry on ladies, we will leave this one for later, we need to see if anything else is wrong.. I mean if there is any other wounds."

Though all four were unnerved by the colour of the elf's eyes they were all professionals and pulled themselves together and carried on, carefully lifting the elf enough to check her back where they soon saw a deep stab wound with ugly red tendrils snaking out from the opening itself. Leaning in Shaela gave the wound a sniff.

"Poison.."

Oddly enough there seemed to be an air of relief amongst the women, each thinking that the poison could be the culprit and the reason why the elf's eye colour had changed. Carefully the women flipped the elf onto her stomach, taking care not to hurt or move the legs more than necessary. As they shifted her, the elf gave out a low pained groan, though remained unconcious. Shaela eyed the wound once more, using her fingers to press around it and frowning as she saw a pus like substance ooze out along with the blood. It was apparent that the elf had lost a lot of blood as she was covered in it, the remains of her clothes soaked through.

"I will have to cut the wound open and scrape out this pus. I think I know what poison it is though, it looks like the same kind that the orcs favoured and luckily we have the anti-venom for it. Bottom shelf to the right, yes that's the one" she directed at to one of the young women, keeping to herself that she had never seen this poison do that to anyone's eyes and telling herself that maybe it was an elven reaction. Quickly Shaela washed her hands in the basin nearby and went to retrieve the set of knives used for surgeries, laying a few of them out next to the elf's body.

"Ok, don't let her move, do you hear me? Best get some milk of the poppy ready just in case." The young woman nodded and grabbed the correct bottle and headed back, standing ready to hold one of the elf's legs down should it be needed.

"I know the broken legs looks horrific, but if we do not treat this wound she will die." Shaela left it at that, as time was running short. Grabbing one of the sharp knives, she carefully cut around the wound, and began pushing the pus out while the three other women looked for signs of the elf suddenly waking, though the elf never stirred nor let out another graon as her flesh was cut. Carefully Shaela wiped the pus away, making sure not to spread it over more of the skin or getting it on her own hands. It seemed like ages passed before she was finally satisfied enough that all the pus was gone and she could close the wound. "We will need to make a poultice for this, but after we get some of the anti-venom in her" she muttered as she carefully sewed the wound closed with tight neat stitches.

"Ok, let's turn her over, we need to make her swallow some of the anti-venom.." Shaela looked concerned as they once more turned the elf, though this time she did not groan. "Hurry. Give me the vial. Hold her head up a bit. That's it, hold her steady.." Placing the vial to the elf's pale blue lips Shaela slowly poured the mixture into the elf's mouth while massaging the elf's throat to encourage swallowing. The concern on Shaela's face deepened as there wasn't even a cough, though it seemed that the mixture had gone down the correct way.

"We won't know if we got it in her in time for a while yet, let's splint her legs." What would have been excruciatingly painful as the bones were reset, passed by without a flinch from the elf, which only made the women worry even more.

"Make some poultice for the two open wounds and use some of the anti-venom in it, just in case." The young womam merely nodded and took the offered vial and headed over to mix up the poultice which they then lathered over both wounds after cleaning each once more. As soon as both legs were splintered and the wounds wrapped in fresh bandages they set to work washing the blood and mud off the elf's body and dressing her in a simple white shift that was open in the back so that they could easily get to the wound again.

"Raise her legs up, Maisie. We need to make sure they don't swell up. That's it." Shaela nodded as she kept a close eye on the young woman, making sure it was done as carefully as possible, watching as Maisie raised the legs onto a firm pillow.

"Right, that is about all we can do for her, for now. We need to give her a bit more anti-venom in a couple of hours, but for now all we can do is wait." Shaela gave the young women the nod indicating for them to begin cleaning up after themselves. Each of the three women worked quietly, hushed by the presence of an elf, one with eldritch eyes at that, though their tension filled the air around them. As the women gathered everything that needed to be taken out, Shaela stopped them at the door.

"Not a word to anyone, do you hear?" Each received a stern stare that quickly garnered a nod from them all. "And Maisie, find the Captain of the Guard, or someone high ranking enough and bring them here. Tell them it is urgent, do you hear me?"

"Yes Miss.." Maisie nodded her head and quickly made her way out the door, pushing past Halbarad and Adrahil and avoiding their barrage of questions.

Bringing a bowl of water and a wash cloth, Shaela headed back to the elf as the door shut behind the three women. Soaking the cloth, she slowly wrung it out and folded it neatly she carefully wiped the elf's forehead. "So.. who are you.. or more like.. what are you.." Silence filled the room, the elf now barely breathing, her skin so pale the contrast stark against her pitch black hair.

"You hang in there, you hear. We have had enough deaths for now.."

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Bregor was finishing up some paperwork. Honestly, it was one of his least favorite parts of the job. He remembered his superiors before they retired were all like, “go for it. You’ll like it.” Hogwash. All of it. Yes, being able to boss the other guards around was nice, and giving assignments and all that, but the paperwork. It was just awful. Oh how he wanted something exciting again.

Just then, there was a knock at his office door. “Enter.” He called out. The door opened and two entered. One of his guardsmen who appeared to be escorting a nurse. This confused him. Why would a nurse be coming to see him? He hasn’t heard of any of the tower guard being injured. And the Rangers, well, they weren’t really under his direction.

“Hello miss ...” he said standing up as the nurse approached his desk.

Maisie sir.”

“Miss Maisie. How can I help you?” He asked motioning for her to sit across from him. After she sat, he took a seat as well.

“Um. I’ve been sent to get the captain of the guard, or someone equivalent to come with me to the House of Healing. It’s urgent.” The tone of her voice, as well as her fidgeting expressed this as well.

Bregor nodded. “Is there any information you can give me so I know what I’m dealing with?” He asked as he stood. He opened a drawer in his desk and removed a couple pairs of cuffs. He also eyed his shortsword leaning against the wall.

“All I was instructed to say was that it was urgent. But we have a new patient that ... I don’t want to miss speak. The head healer taking care of the patient should give you more, and better information. Please, we should hurry.”

Bregor cleared his throat. “Very well. Lead the way.” He said fastening his scabbard to his belt as well as the iron cuffs, then the two left the office. Based on the time, a shift change was happening, so he called over a couple guardsmen who were finishing their shift. “Come with me.”

The four then hurried back to the House of Healing. Maisie led them to the entrance of the room where the patient was being treated. She also pointed out the people who had brought the patient in Bregor ordered the guards He brought with him to question them there while he entered after the nurse.

He saw on the table someone who was clearly an elf. Based on what he could tell of the figure, it appeared to be a female as well. She was being treated by a handful of nurses. Based on what he could see around the working women, something was wrong with their legs and apparently things were pretty mad moving up from there as well.

He cleared his throat, “Captain Bregor here as requested.” It still felt odd claiming the title of captain. He only got the promotion a couple months prior. “Miss Maisie only said it was urgent and it would be best if I heard what was going on from the nurse in charge.” One of his hands hovered over the cuffs on his belt, the other on the hilt of his sword.
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

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Treament room with unidentified elf

Shaela did not stop even though she heard the door open, carefully tipping the liquid into the elf's mouth while one of the young women massaged the throat to coax the elf to swallow. "There we go, nice and easy.. ok gently now.." she guided as she lowered the elf's head back onto the pillow.

Having worked with at the Houses of healing longer than she cared to remember, Shaela had always prided herself of never letting her own concerns and worry show, though as she looked down at the elf's face her brows furrowed and she gave a sigh as she shook her head. As pale as the white sheets she was laying on and with lips that were drained of any other colour than pale blue it really did not look like the elf had long left in this world.

Sighing once more she waved her hands at the women and sent them out and with another look at the elf that was followed by a sigh, she turned to the man who had entered.

"Yes Captain, that was me. I thought it best that I get your opinion on this, given the past few days. And forgive me if I have taken you away from more urgent business, but I honestly do not know what to make of this."

Turning back to the elf and indicating that the Captain follow, she began pointing out the injuries. "As you can see both her legs are broken. Bruises covering her whole body. But the likely reason she is unconcious is from the wound in her back. Stabbed I would guess from what the wound looked like, however it was apparent that it was a poisoned weapon that was used. So not only did she loose a lot of blood, but she has been poisoned."

Shaela shifted uneasily, suddenly a bit self concious and wondering if she had blown things out of proportion. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh, she finally continued. "Obviously the fact that we have an elf here in the Houses of Healing is strange enough, that she was dressed in all black was curious though given the battle that could probably be explained. But.."

The woman looked around to make sure the other nurses had left and then looked at the Captain for a while before she leaned in over the elf and gently pried one of her eyelids open.

"While I have never seen any elves myself, I am pretty sure none of them have eyes like this, right?" Shaela looked back up at the Captain with a hopeful look, releasing the elf's eyelid and again grabbed the wash cloth. Dipping it into the basin of water, she careful wrung it out and once more wiped the elf's forehead.

"At the moment it is touch and go, I cannot tell you if she will survive the day. But I did think it was important to tell someone, even though there might be no way of finding out who... or what she is.."

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Nessa with Thea – Treatment Room

Nessa noticed that her question about the state of girl’s arms confused Thea who was so focused on Tom’s injury that she never considered that a healer, or a healer’s apprentice might look at her red arms and offer assistance. When people thought about the Houses of Healing and the staff that worked there, their first associations were wounds, fractures, grave injuries, complications with pregnancies, infectious diseases, palliative and hospice care…

In reality the healers, assistant healers, apothecaries, nurses and the rest of the staff of the Houses dealt with a wide variety of patients and cases – from the simplest to the most complicated. In a day a member of staff could see all sorts of cases: fevers, rashes, fractures, burns of various degrees, cuts, to patients with pneumonia or a terminal illness for which there was no known cure.

Most days were what the staff would call slow days and filled with easier cases and check-ups. Although, everyone was always ready to receive and treat a difficult case; and today Nessa had a combination of the two.

- Ooh! My hands, yeah – Thea started speaking, coughing with embarrassment. She lowering her eyes to her arms, and stated turning them. – They started going red when I started the job doing the laundry. I don’t know if it is because they are in the water so much or because of the soap…

She listened to Thea’s explanation as she checked up on Tom; the lump on the boy’s head was decreasing in size, his breathing and pulse were slower, indicating that he shifted from unconsciousness to a deep and calming sleep. Athelas had done much of the work and she could move the boy from the treatment table to the bed and monitor his condition. As for the condition of Thea’s hands she thought it was likely a combinations of the two factors: too much caustic soda in the soap and that Thea had her hands in hot water for too long.

- It’s alright though, they don’t hurt all that much… – Thea said and putting the cold compress back on Tom’s head. – When will he wake up again?

Nessa frowned slightly as Thea dismissed her condition as something unimportant and asked about Tom. Sorting out the girl’s hands might be simple, but the simplicity of the problem and an easy solution didn’t mean that her condition should be ignored or treated lightly.

- Tom’s breathing and pulse are calm, indicating that he feel into a deep sleep. – She replied calmly. – Which means that you and I, or rather the combination of a cold compress and athelas did what they were supposed to do. We’ll move him to the bed and monitor his condition like I mentioned before. – She paused and looked at Thea. – Now, you might not think that the state of your hands is something to make a fuss over, because it doesn’t look serious and you’re not in pain. – She said sternly. – However, we don’t just treat serious injuries in the Houses of Healing. We deal with a variety of patients and everyone’s problem is equally important. Yours might not be dramatic… – She said kindly offering Thea a smile to show her that she was not angry. – But still I’ll look at your hands and arms and give you something to treat them.


***

NPC Matilda with Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc of Rohan – Reception, headed to the Gardens

Keeping her hands clasped in front of her, her posture professional and non-threatening she noticed that the Marshal (Rowena) relaxed a bit as her daughter (Zara) relayed the information in gestures. Matilda was intrigued by the gestures and sign language the two women used to communicate, but she showed no outward sing of her interest. If the two Rohirrim wanted to teach her, or anyone else for that matter, how to communicate via the sign language they used they would do so themselves.

After a few moments it was clear that a decision was made and the Marshal’s daughter turned to her to relay what they decided.
- Yes, please, we’d like to see the Lady Volorwin. And I promise my mother will be much kinder to her. She actually has a soft spot for her. You see the woman’s son is in jail in Rohan, so the woman doesn’t have anyone. Technically she has a grandson, but his loyalties are questionable.

Matilda refrained from commenting, although some of the things said deserved a few raised eyebrows to say the least. A son in jail and a grandson who couldn’t be bothered to visit his own grandmother who was brought to the Houses of Healing because she had a stroke! What kind of men were they?! Poor Lady Volorwin, giving birth to a son, feeding him, clothing him, cleaning up his mess, trying to raise him to be a good man and this is how her son and her grandson repay her?! Some men truly were arseholes.

- Would you follow me please? – She said trying to keep her voice light and pleasant, and not show how angry she was at the two men who she didn’t even know, but whose behaviour towards their mother and grandmother made her angry. – As I mentioned Lady Volorwin will be in the garden at this hour so I will take you there.

She gestured towards the door that led from the reception to the garden area and apologised for turning her back to them. She led the two Rohirric ladies from the reception to the meandering garden path. On each side of the path various trees were planted along with herbs and flowerbeds. Patients who recovered in the Houses were sitting on the wooden benches, some were talking to their families or friends who were visiting them, and some were alone. A few of the patients she cared for greeted her and she returned their greetings.

Soon they reached the part of the garden overlooking the Anduin and saw Lady Volorwin sitting alone on one of the benches. Matilda turned to the Marshal (Rowena) and her daughter (Zara) and quietly said.

- I’m sorry, if you don’t mind I would like to go first to greet Lady Volorwin and tell her you are here. I don’t want to scare her or upset her if we just stumble without warning, especially since she hadn’t had any visitors. – She paused to see how the two women would react. – Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even ask your names so I can tell her who it is. I do apologise!


(@Winddancer @Rowena Ellenweorc sorry for being late with the replies!This month has been the worst, thank God it will cancel itself in 2 days :D )
She/her.
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Treatment room with unidentified elf
Days after Battle of Pelennor Fields


Bregor followed Shaela closed to the patient. She pointed out the injuries to the legs and body, and even mentioned the elf was poisoned. At this, he furrowed his brow. Who would do such a thing? She then mentioned the elf had been dressed in black. That was not something he knew the Eldar to do, but it possibly wasn't unheard of. As the nurse said, given the recent battle, and who the enemy was, dressing in black could be of use. Apparently his tour of the inspection wasn't through as Shaela reached for the elf's face. She lifted the eyelid. Bregor was stunned.

"While I have never seen any elves myself, I am pretty sure none of them have eyes like this, right?" Shaela said. Bregor was just silent. He had to take a moment to collect his thoughts. But the most pressing question he had was, who the heck was this elf? "At the moment it is touch and go, I cannot tell you if she will survive the day. But I did think it was important to tell someone, even though there might be no way of finding out who... or what she is." Shaela continued.

Bregor nodded. "I have a feeling someone had tried questioning the people who had brought in the elf, but as you had more pressing issues to contend with, that information is not known at the present. I'll go see what my men have ascertained. If you need me, I'll be in reception. I'll leave one of my men outside the room with cuffs for just in case. Hopefully will not, but I've found that if prepare for the worst case scenario, then won't be wholly ad-lib later." he said before turning and exiting the room.

"Alright. Hilton, you're staying here. And keep these in case the nurse asks for them." he said handing a pair of cuffs over. Gokin, you're with me." He turned to Halbarad and Adrahil, "Along with you two." They then made their way to the reception area.


Upon reaching reception, the four of them went off to one side of the room. "Okay. What do we know about that patient in there?"

Adrahil nodded. "Like we told the nurses when we brought them in, we don't know anything. We found her out in the fields."

Habarad hummed in agreement. "She was underneath the largest black horse I'd ever seen. Some sort of devilry had to have gone into breeding or raising it. Oh, yeah, show the sword too."

"Oh yeah." Adrahil murmured. "We found this with her too." he said handing over a wrapped bundle. Bregor carefully unwrapped it revealing a sword. But it was not like any sword he knew elves to have used.
Seeing it brought flashes of weaponry typically made in the land to their east. Again, the question he had in mind when he saw the irises of the elf came to the forefront. Just who was this person?
Always mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy- Stonewall Jackson
Hubris guarantees disaster.- T C

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On the way to the Gardens
Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc

Both Zara and Rowena were healers, and thus trained in proper bedside ettiquette. But there was often a universal languages among healers that seemed to be understood. Rowena placed a hand on the nurse's shoulder, and said softly in very broken Westron, 'Son -- awful. Yes. Grandson -- don't judge. Don't know.' She wasn't sure if her words were clear so she gestured to her daughter, 'Tell the nurse a little of the story.'
'As you wish Mama.' She then looked as the nurse walked and led them to the gardens. 'Wow, this place is beautiful. Wait, are those Isen lilies? How do you get them to grow here?' Zara pointed distracted for a moment from her mothers request. But then she stood up straight, 'My mother wants you to know a little bit about the Volorwins and Ellenweorcs before you judge. The Ellenweorcs being our family of course.' She pursed her lips for a moment before saying, 'Well until I was probably five or six, we lived in a small village in the Westfold. Back when Mama was a child, it was very poor and destitute. My grandparents were the chief village elders. So it was up to them to find a way to provide for the family and village. Like many of my mother's generation and those before her, my grandparents tried to find Mama a match in Gondor. The first of which was Lady Volorwin's son. As you may have noticed, Mama's proud and defiant. So she refused. Lady Volorwin's son has since had it out for our family, determining if he can't have Mama, no one can. He did eventually end up marrying, but when the woman learned of his true intentions, she left him and their son. Their son was brought up believing the whole reason he was motherless was my Mama's fault. By the time the Volorwins learned of their son's heinous deeds to the Ellenweorc clan, the son was so misguided they had to let him go too. So he doesn't even know Lady Volorwin's sick.'
Rowena's eyes scanned the garden, and when her eyes fell on the broken hearted woman, she wanted to run to her, but she refrained. There was a good chance the woman wouldn't even remember who she was, and if that was the case, some random stranger coming up and hugging her wouldn't do her much good. But there was much sadness that filled those dark bluish grey eyes. Sadness Rowena knew all too well. She only hoped that somehow, she could provide this woman some comfort. And then she gasped.
'What is it mama?'
'I just remembered something…'
'What?! What is it?'
'Zar, I know you were just young, but do you remember who taught me to sign? Was it--'

Zara smiled and nodded. 'Yes. It was Lady Volorwin.' She patted her mother's shoulder and then looked at the nurse. 'It seems coming here is good for my mother. She remembered a forgotten memory herself.'
She then realized the woman asked for their names. 'Rowena and Zara Ellenweorc. If her memory is anything is like my mother's was, she might not remember me, maybe she will. I don't know. But she'll probably remember my Mama.'

Lady Volorwin

The woman sat among the lilacs, looking rather lost and distant. She had been given a shawl to keep her warm, as for some reason despite the warmer weather, she still frequently was cold. The people here seemed nice, but she often missed out on a lot of what they were saying. She caught words here and there, but nothing really quite processed fully.
If she had some presence of mind, she might have thought the healers were just waiting for her to just -- well fade away. But she was a fighter. She didn't know or understand what she was fighting, or fighting for, but she would. She turned her head and noticed that one nurse talking to some people. She couldn't remember the nurse's name, but the people with her looked really familiar. And names popped into her head. Rowena? She couldn't remember the younger ones name, but she knew that it was Rowena's daughter, and she was close to that boy Eamon's age. Oh how was Eamon doing? She'd have to ask.
She lifted a weak hand and waved at the nurse and women. The nurses and healers had yet to coax the woman into speaking but when she saw Rowena, she remembered another way of communication. Now if only she could remember how to actually do it. It would be in this state of deep concentration that Matilda would find her.
Last edited by Rowena Ellenweorc on Sun Jun 28, 2020 9:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.

In War We Know Willpower, In Peace We Know Love~

Master Torturer
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Thea with Nessa

She let out a long ragged sigh of relief at being told that Tom was now merely sleeping, though her stomach was still a tight knot of worry. Relentlessly her mind was playing back the events that had unfolded and she was left constantly wishing she had made different choices throughout the day. She didn't even dare think of what the day might still hold for her as who was to say what would be said or done once this boy's parents arrived. Swallowing hard, Thea shifted nervously on her feet though managed to keep the cold icepack on the boy's head.

It was Nessa's stern tone that brought her out of her miserable reverie and for a moment she had to scramble to catch up to what was being said. She couldn't hide her discomfort by being under scrutiny, but also hated the idea that she would be taking any time away from the boy and stuttering she tried to explain that to the woman.

"Re-really I am ok, they are just a bit red. Tom needs the care more than I do! Really, they.. they don't hurt. At least not as much anymore. Surely it is more important to keep an eye on the boy?" With a desperate look she stopped the rambling and took a deep breath, trying a different approach.

"I do appreciate your concern, but I am fine.. please let's just help Tom?" Thea looked at the woman pleadingly, knowing she couldn't handle any well meant care right now, especially when she was feeling as guilty as she was and especially when the only 'treatment' she should be receiving was to be thrown into the dungeons for being complicite to the harm of a young boy.


@Nessa Saelind OOC Don't worry about it! Glad to have you back though, hope things mellow out for you! <3
***

Treatment room with unidentified elf


Shaela took in the shock on the Captain's face as he saw the colour of the elf's eyes. She did not know whether to feel relieved or even more concerned, though she was glad that she was not the only one who thought that this was unusual. She had seen a lot of things in her life. A lot of gruelling, horrific and tragic things. Burns that left a man unrecognisable, heads crushed to nothing but mush and so many dead. But this? It was not.. natural.

Shaela bit back the objection at having a guard remain in the room as she took another look at the unconcious elf on the treatment table. Had this been a human with the same wounds, she would never had agreed to allow anyone to stay. But this was different. She could not kick the uneasy feeling she was starting to get and instead merely nodded in acceptance of the Captain's words. Though she did give the reamining guard a stern look as if to say stay back unless she wakes. She still had work to do afterall. And while she found this elf unnatural and she made her uneasy, the elf was still wounded and in her care and she would do everything in her might to make sure that the elf did not die. Just like she would with everyone else. It wasn't even something she questioned. This was her lifes work and nothing meant more to her.

Turning back to the elf, Shaela wet the washcloth again and began wiping the elf's forehead once more. It would seem that the elf's body was fighting the poison as she seemed to have a slight fever. Yet another thing that made her on edge as she had never known elves to get fevers. Though she had to remind herself that she had never heard or or dealt with elves that had been poisoned and to be truthful it was a reaction that a human body would make, so surely they would too?

***

Long hours passed without the elf stirring even once and Shaela had started to think that there might not be anything more that she could do for this unfortunate woman. The elf's lips were going even more blue, that in itself a bad sign and dark circles had bloomed under the elf's eyes and made them look like they were even more sunken than before. The fever the elf was struggling with had drenched her shift and though Shaela loathed to move the elf more than necessary she decided that it had to be changed so that the elf would not catch a chill, not knowing enough about elves and their immune system to know that elves couldn't catch pneumonia.

"Maisie, get a new shift and some new sheets will you?" she asked over her shoulder, likely sounding a little more stern than usual as it bothered her how the young guard and Maisie were eyeing each other all the time.

"Yes Miss." Maisie quickly replied, blushing slightly as she quickly headed to the cupboard and retrieved the various items. Smiling shyly and looking at the guard out the corner of her eyes, Maisie made her way back to the treatment table where the smile quickly died. This elf gave her the shivers and it was hard for her not to show it like Miss Shaela managed to. Another reason to be jealous of the older woman and another reason to feel like she was never going to be as good.

Placing the sheets and the shift within reach, Maisie helped the older woman pull off the drenched sheets and shift, careful not to move the elf more than needed, though a small grin returned when she saw Miss Shaela give the guard a stern look to make him avert his eyes while they changed the elf's shift.

"What.. what is this?" Maisie almost whispered, leaning in to see more clearly. "It looks like.. no, it couldn't be.."

"What are you mumbling about girl, speak up!" Not in the mood for any silliness after a long day stood here, Shaela went around the bed to look at what Maisie was staring at. Leaning in as well, both woman looked at the top part of the elf's left arm as Maisie had yet to thread the arm into the clothing.

"I'll be damned.." Shaela blurted out as she ran her fingers over the elf's skin. "That is a brand. A very faded one, but this elf has definitely been branded at some point. What the heck is going on."

Shaela turned to the guard and was about to call him over and started when she was suddenly face to face with him as he had come over to see what it was they were looking at. "Goodness.. yes was going to say, you might want to have a look so you can tell your Captain.." Shaela coughed and pointedly covered the elf's body as they had not finished dressing her. Giving the guard a moment to look, she then shooed him out of the way to finish and she had only just grabbed the sleeve to thread the elf's arm through when a hand clamped hard around her wrist.

Letting out a startled cry, Shaela looked at the elf, her bladder almost loosening with fright as she looked right into the elf's eldritch eyes, both of them open and staring right at her. But before she could let out a terrified scream the elf's eyes rolled back and she lost conciousness again, the hand on Shaela's wrist loosening and falling back onto the bed. Frozen on the spot, Shaela looked at her wrist and saw the red marks, a clear sign of a powerful grip.

"Holy Eru.."

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