Closed [Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

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This shining population center is considered the jewel of The Sylira Region. Home of the vast majority of Mizahar's population, Syliras is nestled in a quiet, sprawling valley on the shores of the Suvan Sea. [Lore]

[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Wanda Endust on December 15th, 2013, 10:50 pm

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Soothing Waters Bath and Massage
52 Winter 513AV
Around Noon


"Alrighty, have a nice day!"

Wanda leaned against her doorpost, waving to her elderly customer as he strode away. The girl smiled to herself pridefully. When the man had arrived, his back had been so sore that he could barely shuffle along on his own. Now, after only a bell of gentle pressure along his spine, he was walking smoothly again. Of course, he'd have to keep coming back for regular treatment, but that didn't stop Wanda from feeling pretty satisfied with herself.

As he turned out of sight, the teen allowed herself to shift and slump with her back against the doorway. The snowy season was in full swing, and every day there seemed to be more and more customers practically beating down the doors of the bath house to seek reprieve from the icy conditions.

Wanda was grateful that she got had opportunity to stay inside the heated walls of the Soothing Waters all day, but cursed the extra work that Winter required -- she felt like she hadn't gotten a moment to rest since she'd arrived. Of course, she hadn't. There still seemed to be a distinct lack of qualified masseuses in the fortress city. Or perhaps it was simply a lack of masseuses willing to work at the bath house.

Either way, Wanda was tired. Ivis would be sending down another customer, her sixth of the day, any chime now.

Wanda sighed. Then sniffled. She could feel the tingling sensation of a sneeze building in her sinuses, serving as a reminder that, one, the customer that had coughed on her two days prior had indeed been sick and, two, she probably shouldn't even be at work right now. She could feel herself beginning to come down with some cold weather illness. But she wasn't burning up yet, so she didn't think she was contagious. At least she hadn't sneezed on a customer yet.

Still, she might as well take advantage of every spare moment she could get. With her back against the frame of the door, facing away from anyone who might approach, she sank to the floor and entertained delusions that Ivis wouldn't send her any more clients.
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Ethan Ironhorse on December 22nd, 2013, 5:51 pm

Ethan had started his day with pushing himself hard running in the snow. It wasn’t thick on the ground around the training pits, but as his feet broke through the white powder of snow down into the stone or dirt ground Ethan could feel that his feet and socks were starting to get cold. A thin layer of ice had formed on the snow as the sun had heated it up and then the night being cold enough to freeze it. Ethan normally would do sit ups or push up as he ran, but today still early in the morning Ethan knew that sitting down in the snow would only make him colder. So instead he ran, the soft crunch of the ice echoing in the training pits as the white cloud of his breathe seemed to shoot pass him. His legs had gotten use to running and then stopping for the exercises, now that he wasn’t doing any his exercises in between his legs seemed to burn as his side began to cramp.

Ethan could tell that his body wanted to stop, and he did stacken the pace as his muscles just couldn’t seemed to keep the pumping action needed for running, but as he was about to give up he his mind left the pain behind and a sudden moment of floating came over him. Yes, his legs were tired and yes his side was cramping from trying to breathe the cold air, yet Ethan continued to run almost as if he had broken through some mental barrier. Syna’s rays began to crest over the Syliras walls and Ethan began to feel the first rays of light warm him and the area. Gerald began to walk out into the pits throwing down loose sand on sections that seemed to have frozen and ice on them. The man nodded and wave at Ethan as he kept running. Ethan was slowly joined by other fighters as they came out of their apartments and began the circuit around the pits. Previous the untouched snow that Ethan had trouble running through, was now a hard packed pathway as others began to perform their exercises.

As the morning seemed to warm up enough that Ethan didn’t really notice his breath anymore, he climbed down into the fighters pit and began to drill with his chosen weapon. The old Spatha that Gerald had was about a few inches shorter then a longsword, but the real differences were in is base and point. A Spatha had been used before the use of chainmail, is wide base allowed for heavy slashes that could chop part boiled leather or bone quite well. The point of the sword was wider than the narrow one of a knights longsword. It had been made to pierce flesh with a deep weight behind it, where as chainmail and its strong steel rings would deflect the cutting edge of blade or point. Still Ethan enjoyed the weapon, it seemed to have more weight in his hands then a simple longsword, and Ethan felt like he didn’t want to be caught practicing with a knights blade.

Ethan went through the defensive positions of the blade, making sure that he rolled the tongue of the blade to it edge. Gerald had taught him that catching the edge of a blade against one’s own edge will put more nicks and dents in the fine metal than anything else, and he was right. After all the blade that Ethan practice showed deep dents and cuts across its dull blade. Ethan focused on blocking an imaginary thrust, the blade came down from his guard position using the flat of his blade to block the edge and then Ethan rolled his wrist to that the cross guard of the blade would protect his hand. Ethan drilled for a bell practicing his technique of guard positions. These were the first real strokes that he had learned, and he was glad, after all one couldn’t win a fight if they were constantly being cut by their opponents sword.

Gerald came over to Ethan for a moment and watched him practice his technique for about five chimes. Before speaking up, “Need a lesson today?” Ethan stopped and looked at Gerald the man was smiling and Ethan could tell that he had been amused by Ethan’s sloppy technique.

“Sure let me grab a shield as well then.” Ethan said pulling his coin purse out and giving Gerald the mizas for the lesson. Gerald charged for his lessons, and so Ethan knew that if he was going to play for one then he was going to make sure it was worth it. Ethan picked up a battered small round steel shield and started in his guard position. Gerald picking up a shield and longsword started across from Ethan and nodded for Ethan to began. Ethan stepped forward and thrusted his blade as a tempting strike. Gerald with much better reflexes than Ethan parried the blade off to the side and moved with an upward cutting stroke. Ethan shuffled his feet and moved to block the blade with the edge of his shield. The impact jerked his arm, allowing Gerald to do a small step forward and change his strike from a slash to a thrust. The point hit Ethan square in the chest and pain bloomed causing the knowledge and feeling that he had yet received another bruise.

“Touch!” Gerald said. Ethan backed way and nodded, Gerald then spoke. “Alright Ethan, your guard position was too high. See how my arm and sword blocks the diagonal of my body. Smaller movements are needed for me to intercept a blade. Go ahead and start in the guard position, there! See it! Adjust your right hand downward by an inch. Good! Next the thrust, your arm came forward before your foot, they should come at the same time that way you don’t tell your opponent what move you are making. Try it a few times.” Ethan began making the thrust over and over again. Each time Gerald spent a moment correcting Ethan’s technique until after ten chimes Gerald felt that Ethan had more of the basics of down.

“Next, when using a shield it’s important to use the flat of the shield to protect you the most. The edge of the is only there to knock thrusting movements. It was your feet work and balance that allowed me to hit you. That shield isn’t just some disk on your arm, you have to know that there are only a few guard positions that can maintain strength behind it and where your feet need to be.” Ethan and Gerald began to work on the shield positions back and forth. Gerald used his sword to hit the shield again and again making Ethan’s arm tired and tired.

Finally Gerald was ready for Ethan to try and spar again. Both of them took up their guard positions and Ethan began this time circling waiting for Gerald to make his play. Gerald began a thrust and Ethan reacted by readying his sword arm to take the blow and trap it against the shield. It was then that a flash of fire went overhead and Ethan distracted by the flash didn’t focus on the sword strike. Gerald saw the flash across Ethan’s shield but had ignored it thinking it was the sun. The sword came down and contacted Ethan’s forearm just hard enough not to break bone, but to give Ethan one horrible bruise. It was then that screams and shouting came from the archery range in the pits.

Ethan dropped his sword from Geralds hit and then shouted out in pain. Looking up Geralds head swiveled to the black smoke that was going into the sky. Ethan opened up his other hand and threw down the shield, grasping his injured arm Ethan and Gerald began to run to the archery field along with all the other trainee’s and fighters. Ethan saw a young lad waving his arms and gesturing as two archers laid on the ground rolling about to put out the flames. People were screaming and pointing at the young lad when Gerald tackled the fool. Ethan grabbed a cloak off of a fighter and threw it down on one of the archers still on flames. Doing his best to pat out the archer, Ethan helped the man up. There were shouts of Reimancer and for the knighthood. Gerald slugged the lad to unconscious, while Ethan help up the injured archer.

There was a great mass of confusion as Ethan and the two other men started to head off to the Soothing Water Bath and Massage. The healers were located down there and slowly he made sure that the injured men came with him. It took them a while to make it down to the Baths, as they entered Ethan called out, “Help! Need some help here!”
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Wanda Endust on January 2nd, 2014, 10:58 pm

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Wanda's moment of peace was brought to a rude end as a commotion suddenly broke out down the way. There were shouts, and the stomping of boots echoed down the hallway. Among all the ruckus, Wanda picked up on Ivis's voice, always collected under pressure.

Wanda shuffled her feet against the stone floor as she moved to her feet, bracing herself on the door frame.
What now? There were more shouts, but she couldn't make out what any of them were.

It was Winter. Some fool probably feel into his hearth, she reasoned. Whatever healers were on duty could take care of it. Or, at least, that's what she thought until one such healer came barreling towards her through the light steam.

"Wanda!" The older girl panted as she came closer. Wanda, seeing the urgency of the situation -- her frantic steps and desperate voice -- scurried forward to meet the girl.
"What is it?" she asked, the two pausing for a moment before the healer grabbed the masseuse's shoulder.

The healer wiped a hand across her own brow and ushered Wanda towards the general healing room. "Nilichoa stepped out for something or another half a bell ago," she explained as they walked (or trotted, rather). "Then this group of guys come in lookin' like they've seen Dira herself." Wanda didn't get the reference, but let the girl continue. "I just caught a glimpse before I was sent to get you, but it looked pretty bad. Looked like we'd need every set of hands we could get, but you were the only masseuse we could grab that Ivis didn't have booked right now."

So that was it. It wasn't much of a description, but it sounded like there was more to it than someone just falling into a hearth. Though, as they approached the front of the building, a distinct smell told Wanda that she'd at least gotten one thing right.


"What's that smell?" she asked innocently enough. The healer gave her a sidelong glance but didn't have time to answer before they burst onto the scene. Workers were milling about, getting ready or the action of the day. Some were readying the cots, others were entering with wooden pails of heated water, others were running across the room to restock the bandages. Wanda found herself grateful for the relatively slow-paced job she normally had. As a masseuse, she rarely had to deal with the commotion of large medical jobs like this.

Sil'ria, being the most skilled healer in the room, seemed to be in charge of the situation. She was escorting a small group of men into the room. Wanda couldn't tell who was injured and who wasn't, but it was painfully obvious who was the most injured -- and who was the source of the odd smell.

At least one of the men had his clothes almost entirely charred. He seemed to be the source of the smell. Burnt Flesh. Sil'ria herself took that particular man herself, and Wanda lost sight of him as he was laid on a cot and surrounded by busy-handed healers.

With that, she returned her gaze to the remaining men, who were either unscathed or not as obviously injured. She stepped forward, ready to bring them to a cot if either one turned out to need help. She knew it was best to treat the clients first, and ask questions later, but she couldn't help herself.
"What happened?"
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Ethan Ironhorse on January 5th, 2014, 3:11 pm

Ethan pulled the archer slightly upward feeling the blacken skin and oozing blood run down the back of his leather armor. Ethan had gotten use to the smell as he half carried and supported the man down from the fighter’s pit to here, but it was the cries of pain that no one could get use to. Thomas had been caravan guard and hunter, he used his time during the winter to practice his bow, and he always seemed to have a smile. The simple truth was the man was a good man that didn’t need the horror of burns from magic. Ethan looked up at the one blue eye and the other foggy one wondering if they would be able to help Thomas. It was then that Ivis, the receptionist started calling out to others and had Ethan began to move Thomas down to the healer’s area.

Ethan wasn’t sure how Thomas was still able to move his feet forward as they made their way to the bed. A red haired woman came over and started to direct staff to remove the boiled charred leather wrapped around Thomas. Ethan stepped back feeling out of place as he looked down at Thomas, pieces of skin had come off on Ethan’s armor and blood now stained the leather and fur in streaks. Ethan seemed almost dazed as he looked at Thomas and the medical care he was receiving. Slowly the throbbing pain of his own injury began to pulse under his bracer. Turning away from his friend he saw several other fighters helping another archer that had been caught in the blast of magic fire. This one however had only been injuried slightly, while Thomas had caught its full effect.

Ethan brought his right hand up to his chest and cradled it with his left. He knew what he would find under his bracer. It would be a large welt where the blood pooled instantly with one half of his forearm turning yellow. Ethan tenderly moved his fingers and felt the muscles underneath the forearm flare in protest, but besides the pain there was still movement. Gerald certainly knew how to hit a man just right. Ethan went over to the group of fighters that had helped escort the two injured down to the baths. A very young blond woman had come up to them and it seemed like she was asking what had happened. Jonoth, spoke up, “I sawed the ‘hole thing. Dis here Reimancer, was a tellin’ Thomas how he was a better shot with a fire then Thomas was with de bow. De Reimancer builds up dis here big ball and is a’out to throw it, when a gust of wind pulls it from his hands and hits Thomas and Olan.”

Karrin turned to Jonoth and shook his head, “You been drinking again, wasn’t no gust of win, that there Reimancer got upset at Thomas and decided to try and kill him, the Knighthood will kill that fool Reimancer!”It was then that tempers started to flare, and the group of fighters began to starting yelling at each other about the details of how Thomas and Olan got hurt. As the red haired healer began to look at the group, Ethan decided he had enough of it. “Shut it, you petchers!”Ethan gave each and everyone a serious stare as the stopped yelling for a moment. “Thomas and Olan are on a beds struggling for their lifes, if you got details on what happen go to the Knighthood you fools, and leave the healers tending our friends in peace!”The crowd began to issue out, while Ethan choose instead to take a seat on the nearest unfilled cot. Finally getting the chance to rest, Ethan began to unbuckle his armor with his left hand and teeth as he cradled his right.

Ethan was having problems getting to the buckles under his left side and as he looked up he saw that the young blond woman was milling about around the few fighters still left. “Lass, can I trouble you for some help unbuckling my armor.” Ethan said as he lifted his left arm to show six buckles. [b]“It pains me something fierce to use my right hand, and I just want to try and get this armor cleaned. Then apply some Krolar Poultice when I get home.” [b/]
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Wanda Endust on January 11th, 2014, 12:42 am

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Wanda's heart was pounding with all the adrenaline pooling in the air. As she cast another glancing look about the room, Wanda noticed another injured man being led through the room by a group of rough-looking men. By appearances, that fellow must've also caught a bit of whatever had happened, not not so badly as the one who'd been led in first.

Should she help the healers? That was, after all, what she'd been called down the do. But it seemed that, despite the flurry of activity and mild frenzy, there really were only a few people hurt. Only one of which actually looked to be severely injured. And there were only so many healers you could have working on one person before it got to crowded for anyone to do anything.

Besides that, Wanda decided that it would probably be important -- later, at least -- for someone to find out what exactly had caused such an incident. Most of the men who'd gathered didn't seem to be knights, except for a few who might've stepped in to help escort the band of men to the bath house as quickly as possible.

With her question, one of the men launched into a condensed version of events. So it was a wizard who'd done this? She'd seen reimancy used only once before, just seasons ago -- a another reckless kind of use that had made the fool who'd wielded it seem like a fool.

Before she could form an opinion on the matter though, another fellow interjected, rebutting the first man to relay his own version of events. Wanda didn't now quite what to think, and the sudden outbreak of hostility and loud voices didn't do anything to help the situation.

Wanda rubbed her temples in frustration. Why couldn't these guys just be civil? If they wanted to each share what they saw (or how they interpreted what they saw), they could. But nooo, as soon as someone has a difference of opinion, they've just gotta take personal offence.


"Uh," she tried to intercede, but didn't want to have to raise her voice any higher than the group. Loud noises were not good while the staff was trying to concentrate on saving lives. Wanda glanced around in rising exasperation at the working healers. It was only a matter of time before the ruckus would disrupt them, and then someone might make a distracted mistake. Running a hand through her hair, she turned back to the men, some of which had actually started getting rowdy. She blanched inwardly as one actually reached to pull another's beard. Really? That was it, it didn't matter that the whole lot of them were around a foot taller than she and could probably snap her in half -- she had to put a stop to this nonsense. Besides, she had something they did not.

Wanda drew in a breath, focusing her mind like her father had taught her all those years ago. It'd been far too long since she'd tried hypnotizing anyone, but Wanda let intuition guide her as she drew upon her djed. She could feel the blood pulsing behind her eyes, but before she could get much of anything however, someone beat her to the punch -- which was definitely for the best. She coughed down the metallic taste of blood that had been threatening to rise. After so little practice, the chances of her actually succeeding at what she was trying to do, even with only a single person, were slim at best. She exhaled, closing her eyes in relief as the shouts and slurs died down.

Wanda caught a glimpse of the mediator through the grumbling group as they sauntered away. Though the fellow had a sort of intense feel about him, he seemed fairly nondescript to Wanda's eyes. If she'd ever seen him before, she probably wouldn't have remembered.

As such, it was a good thing she'd never met him before or it would have led to an awfully awkward encounter just a few moments later. Wanda checked to make sure there were no other potential sources of chaos anywhere in the room and was about to make her way towards the other staff members to see if she could help, when she was intercepted by the man.


"Suuure," she offered, relieved that she could actually be useful, but a tad exhausted from all the activity as she wound her way over to where he sat. In all honesty, she was mildly confused by the question until he lifted his arm. There were many things she was not familiar with, and armor was absolutely one of them. But how hard can it be? she pondered as she situated herself sideways next to him.

Not hard at all, it turned out. As far as Wanda could tell, the buckles were fairly standard, the kind used on all kinds of apparel.
"Sorry," she grinned sheepishly, realizing that her hesitation might seem a bit strange. "I've just never had to do anything with armor before. Gotta make sure it's not gonna throw me for a loop!"

At that, she got busy. Her deft fingers made quick work of the leather (save for the last one, which was trickier but not too much of a problem). With that done and the hide shell falling loose, it suddenly occurred to her that she'd pretty much paid no mind to the second part of what the fellow'd said.

"Oh! You said something about your hand, right? Did you happen to get hurt in all the mess too?" Well, of course. "Do you want me to take a peek? It is my job, after all."
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Last edited by Wanda Endust on March 22nd, 2014, 5:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Ethan Ironhorse on January 27th, 2014, 10:07 pm

Ethan looked at the blonde hair lass as she said she would help. Ethan could feel the heat that was coming from pooling of blood in his forearm and closed his eyes in a moment of silence to allow the pain to fade away. It was then that the girl told Ethan she had been worried about how to take the armor apart. Smiling with his eye closed Ethan spoke as he felt the buckles loosen. “Aye there can be a trick to any type of armor. For instance, putting on this little bit I have to start from the top down on the buckles. The armor needs to be tight enough against my body to prevent collapsing of the armor while giving me enough movement to still wield a sword.” Ethan felt the middle buckle open up and the pressure around his ribs and abdomen lessen. “It’s the metal stuff that can get down right confusing. Some of the cheaper stuff has buckles that interlace through the plate and then have plates attached over the buckles through connection points or hooks. Trying to repair that stuff is horrible, and often a smith either has to fashion a new plate and hook assembly to the whole thing without damaging the armor further.” Ethan stopped talking for a moment as the top buckle came undone and he felt the two sides of the leather loosen. Ethan took his left arm and hiked it his shoulder strap and began the long and careful process of bringing the leather armor over his head.

As Ethan moved and stretched he heard the girl through the padding of his inner shirt. Slowly the armor began to come up, and the thread worn green shirt underneath began to come up with it. To Wanda if she was paying attention she would see a wide assortment of bruise about Ethan’s stomach’s and hips. Some were fresh, purple red dots that were starting to spread, while others had began to darken and fade. The armor continued to give Ethan trouble till about he was half way up and then finally he was able to use his left hand to push one side over his head and then gingerly snake his right arm through it. The blood stained leather armor fell to the floor as Ethan finally was free of it. At least he could have it cleaned here though he was going to have to spend hours afterward using oils and wax to polish the leather again. Ethan smiled at the young lady and spoke to answer her next questions. “Aye, lass, I suppose you could say that. I was taking a lesson in sword fighting at the time of incident. Was trying to use some of the more basic moves when the flames distracted me, my opponent took advantage of the opportunity and used an overhand chop with the blade to come down on my bracer. Thank Ovek or my partner’s skill that he didn’t break bone with the chop.” Ethan smiled as he pulled up his shirt sleeve to finally take a look at the damage the blow. In a diagonal line where the sword had hit Ethan, purple red dots of blood appeared below the skin of the right forearm. Swelling was starting to occur across the wrist and forearm about two inches from the line, a sick yellow to green tint could be seen on the swelling. Ethan flexed his hand and slowly rotated his hand up and down from side to side. He could tell the bruising was deep and had affected the tendons and ligaments in his arm.

Looking up at the blonde lass, Ethan smiled while gritting through the pain. “See lass, not a bit worth of trouble. I will be a bit tender for eight or ten days, but isn’t the worst blow I ever received. Once had a horse kick me and break four of my ribs. Got back up finished shoeing that nag and made my way here before I broke down in fever and pain.” Ethan looked over at his friends who had been burnt. As the Healer worked, burnt skin seemed to flake off as new pink flesh almost grew underneath. The power of the Goddess seemed almost beyond anything that Ethan could ever hope for to even control with his little use of magic. Even if he became a master, magic always seemed less then the powers from a god or goddess, yet it was scary to think that a God or Goddess would even notice someone like Ethan. A simple man who only wanted to create, instead of tear down, what deity would take notice of that.

Ethan stared off for a moment, “You know it’s incredible the power a single person can wield. In one moment, a man was talking to my friend and decided to change the very world around him throwing fire. The next he was brought here and a woman with the divine power of healing was able to heal something that normally would kill him. Its so easy to abuse power like Reimancy, perhaps that’s why the powers that come from the Gods and Goddesses have there own drawbacks. To try and provide some balance to those that receive such gifts.” Ethan blinked for a moment and almost as if he were an actor in a play, a mask came down of a man that didn’t care one way or another as if the only deep thought he possessed was that of a man wondering where his next meal will come from.


oocSorry for the wait, we are putting in a water line and it has taken up a lot of my time.
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Wanda Endust on January 30th, 2014, 3:49 pm

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The various wounds across his abdomin did not go unnoticed. Rather, it was almost instinctual for Wanda to search the torso for signs of injury, simply because of its prevalence in her line of work. It was more true for the spine, but from where she sat Wanda couldn't glimpse the man's back.

Her brow furrowed at the bruises -- people really ought to take better care of their bodies. Though those who practiced swordsmanship likely didn't care whether or not they received injuries, as far as she was concerned, they would be no use in a real fight if they were still nursing injuries from simple training.

"Sounds like real loon of a partner, then," she reasoned, shifting to get a better view of the wounded arm. Swelling was sometimes a sign of circulation problems, but bruises and discoloration were visual cues of internal injuries. It certainly looked bad, and Wanda trusted her own experienced judgement more than this fellow's bravado.

"Listen here," she began, dismissing his downplaying with a wave of her hand and a cheeky grin. "I've got nothing better to do right now and I can't let you --"

She was readying a reprimand when his words on magic and gods and power and whatnot threw her off guard. Wanda wasn't the philosophical type, but what he pointed out struck a cord. He was speaking of Reimancy and Healing, of course, yet it could be applicable to a number of other things. Her own power, for one.

If she were to be completely honest, Wanda did feel the urge to push her influence upon others more often than she would've liked to admit. She could solve so many things and avoid so many unwanted situations with a simple nudge on her Djed. Yet that always seemed so... ungenuine. Did she abuse the power? She liked to think she didn't. In a roundabout way, Wanda felt as if the man was calling her unbalanced. And, in a roundabout way, she felt insulted.

Weren't steel blades and weapons just as dangerous? How could this man sit and preach about the unpredictability of magic when he was essentially living proof of the simple power of violence? Wanda got the distinct feeling that she was only latching onto a portion of what he was trying to say. Was she missing the bigger picture? Most likely.

Still, she replied. "It is incredible, yes, but do you think that power is only power if it's magical?" She kept her voice low, cocking and eyebrow as she gestured to the man's own wounded arm. "Looks to me like it's pretty easy to abuse the power of swordplay too, yet there's nothing to keep a weapon master's ability in check."

She shrugged, leaning back and following his gaze out at the rest of the room. "If you ask me, I'm more wary of warriors than I am of mages."

But divine power. Wanda had never considered the prospect before -- not for herself, at least. She knew that many of the bath's healers were marked by a goddess of healing, yet the girl had never considered it for herself. Of course, she would be able to help so many more people. Not to mention the pay bonus.

But there was something even more incredible about healing a person with her own two hands, knowing that she had worked for her skill and not simply asked a divine power for a favor. Besides that, Wanda wasn't nearly selfless enough to devote her life to the service of a god's aims. Those she'd met that were marked by Rak'keli had always seemed to posses a drive to spread the word and of their patron. That wasn't something Wanda wanted for her life -- she needed the freedom of choice.

Speaking of healing...

"Right! What was I saying earlier? Ah, yeah. I won't let you outta here until you let me take a look at that arm!"
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Ethan Ironhorse on February 9th, 2014, 5:46 pm

Ethan looked at the young woman that was tending him, she seemed to not approve of his training. Ethan had learned about magic and its drawbacks the hard way, while he practiced shielding a relatively safe magic. He had overgiven and shown bruising about his arms from the fevered dream state, and as Ethan gingerly gave the young lass his arm, he thought back to that idea it had left. Shielding was about defining boundaries and rules and attaching it to the very information that encompassed an individual. Fancy words, hand gestures, or even components could be used but they acted as a crutch for the caster. Ethan was beginning to understand that magic, whether it was shielding, glyphing, or some new magic that only affected cats, it was about understanding the thing you were going to change. The world was built on concepts and rules on how things interacted, true magic was the choice to ignore those rules or to alter then. Some like repairing burnt flesh, meant that the understanding and information needed to be changed was to greater of a single man or woman to really know. Yet the Goddess, allowed that knowledge and power, a channel through her people. The small voice that had haunted Ethan’s dreams came back to him, Me. Not Me. It was the most basic concept of shielding, what was you at any given time, and what was outside of you. Yet that concept didn’t allow for food and air, which were things outside of one’s self that later became apart of who they were.

”I suppose you are right. Power in any form can be dangerous, it’s the individual that must show discipline and good judgement to know what they can effect and what they can’t. Every individual isn’t perfect and can show a lack of judgement, I just worry about those mistakes. The swordsman who I was training with, wanted to show me that in a moments distraction in a real fight I would have lost my arm and probably my life. So the lesson might seem cruel, the knowledge I seek to master will protect me or as you stated allow me to kill and hurt without restraint. What keeps me in check is my own ethics and values, the power over oneself. I suppose the same is for any mage. The power to change something, whether it be the body, mind or world about oneself, with a mere thought can a exhilarating experience. Yet without the understanding of what one is trying to change, that experience can lead to death or destruction.

Ethan looked down at this arm and though more, ”I train so that when I decided to leave this city and go to Zeltiva I will be able to survive the trip and learn from the university there. Yet I understand the price of that knowledge. Pain instructs me to pay attention to blows I strike or to leaving me exposed. Yet the change I seek is to protect myself, that may come at the cost of another’s life or limb, but I must judge with my own values if that is right or wrong, and in order to gain that power I must struggle to obtain it. Magic is different in a way, for those that have the will to seek change in the world with their thoughts, they can do so. Yet some thoughts are better left inside one’s mind, yet magic is the application of that will and thought. What code or creed can bind ones thoughts? And even if there was one, would it stop the person from doing something dangerous or in the end would it limit one’s imagination as to what they could do, effectively limiting their ability to learn magick?”

Ethan closed his own eyes, pondering about the magick he had learned. He had asked Devandil to teach him magic for protection. The Djed storms had had come through Syliras and wrecked the city had impacted Ethan, so when he had learned Shielding, his enthusiasm had ran like wild. Yet it wasn’t till these last season did he realize that he could only do so much by himself and with the magic. That true strength and power came from within, and those things came with hardships all their own. No matter how powerful Ethan became, he couldn’t force Hadyn to love him, and even if he did that love would mean absolutely nothing because it was forced.
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Wanda Endust on February 15th, 2014, 6:05 pm

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Wanda gingerly grabbed at the man's forearm, taking care not to put too much pressure on the limb until she figured out where she could safely place her fingers, and how bad the wound was. And it did look bad. Swelling was not a normal occurrence with simple bruises, and it either indicated that there was pus underneath the skin or the muscles were inflamed. Seeing just how deep the wound was, she would bet on the latter. Unfortunately, swollen muscles would likely cut off circulation of blood, and it wouldn't be conducive to put that extra strain on veins that were already broken.

The good news was, as a fairly decent masseuse, Wanda mostly specialized in easing soreness and restoring blood flow to damaged limbs. She traced her fingertips down the offended muscle, skipping around the most painful-looking places with only the lightest touches.

There were many times throughout the course of her work that Wanda felt glad to be as small as she was. A more diminutive stature meant smaller fingers, which in turn meant that she could poke and prod around with more precision than most people would be allowed. Of course, the same fact meant that she had a harder time covering larger areas of the body at the same time, but that didn't apply to the current situation. A swollen forearm hardly required her to cover the same muscle area that a strained back would.

Either way, Wanda ran her hand down the man's forearm from elbow to wrist with sure touches, alternating between fingertips and the heel of her palm. If the man showed any signs of discomfort, she only slightly noticed them on a conscious level. If she stopped each time a person showed signs of pain at her ministrations, she would never get anything done. Instead, she had to trust that she knew what she was doing, and simply go with what her hands told her. As she did so, she kept her ears focus on the conversation.

And, boy, could the man talk. Either Wanda simply wasn't feeling chatty today or the man was quite the chatterbox. She hadn't expected that out of a guy -- especially a fighting type. They usually didn't have much to say.

Not to mention the topic of discussion. Magic? Wanda wasn't much of a scholar, but she knew enough about the principles of magic to get by with her own abilities. Yet she considered her self to be an even poorer philosopher than she was a scholar, and it took some amount of extra effort to keep her mind concentrated on both her healing touch and the conversation.

Of course, he had a good point. Still, she hadn't known she would be in for such a deep discussion when she'd come into work today, and it was draining to have to divide her mind to focus on two different, intricate things.

If she were to be honest, Wanda had gotten lost somewhere along the way as he spoke and was unsure whether it was because of her own flighty attentions or if the man's words were really just that confusing to her.

"Pain isn't a very good teaching device though, if you ask me. It's a pretty powerful force, and just using it willy-nilly like that," she shook her head, keeping hey eyes on the ugly multicolored flesh of her forearm as she spoke, "just seems a bit... I dunno. Petty, y'know?" At this, she deliberately prodded a particularly angry-looking bruise on his arm, not hard enough to cause any extra damage, but probably hard enough that he would feel it. She glanced up with a wry look to gauge his reaction before continuing. "Learning lessons and trying to be prepared is right and dandy, but if trying to play it safe like this and still end up almost losing a limb, it just sounds like a waste of your lifetime. Seriously -- " she glanced up once more, gesturing to his arm " -- this wound here could'a cost you your whole arm. If you hadn't gotten it treated, it would've probably pooled too much blood, lost circulation, and died. Then all you'd be stuck with was a dead limb and whatever time you didn't already waste by worrying about the future."

She honestly didn't have a clue what she was saying, or whether she'd even managed to stay on topic. Still, she offered a shrug, a sheepish grin, and carried on. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, ya say you're trying to protect yourself, even at the cost of another's life and limbs? But what if the cost is you own life and limbs, what then? Would all this time you've put into training just be a waste? The way I see it, you ought'a just jump in head first. Seems like you'll be harmed just as much either way. Wanna go to Zeltiva? No one's stopping you but yourself and your own fears."

Now, on magic, Wanda had very few opinions. Her own ability was only fledgling. But she did know what she believed in general -- should thoughts be bound? In Wanda's eyes, people tended to gravitate towards good thoughts. Whether or not that was true didn't matter, but she believed that people were inherently good and she hadn't found a reasonable cause to change that outlook yet. "Now magic..." she simply shrugged. Who should get to say what thoughts were worthy of remaining holed up inside people's minds, and what thoughts were worthy to unleash? If it were limited, wouldn't those very limits draw all the wrong kinds of people? Ambitious people who were set on breaking said limits? As far as Wanda knew, limits and boundaries didn't typically work like people imagined them to. If you set them, people will want to break them. Wanda liked to think that she was responsible with her magic, but there were many times when she knew she was not -- many times where she would push boundaries simply because they were there.

"Eh, am I even making any sense?" Wanda asked suddenly, circling the man's wound with confident hands once more, the motions gaining strength every couple ticks as she now prepared to reach the deeper muscles. She'd never had much of a way with real words, and she did feel as if her words were just as disjointed and convoluted as her mind was at the moment, flitting from one thing to another. She had numerous thoughts about some things, and not-so-numerous thoughts about others, but couldn't seem to come up with a balance that didn't derail the topic at hand.
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[Soothing Waters] Touch and Chill (Ethan)

Postby Ethan Ironhorse on February 16th, 2014, 5:42 pm

As Wanda grabbed Ethan’s arm, there was a light tenderness that brought pain. His muscles had become tender and they were starting to stiff to prevent further damage. Ethan inhaled a slight small breath, Ethan knew that the girl’s touch was soft and light but the blood that was beginning to pool made the wound almost hard up top that floated underneath. Ethan closed his eyes for a moment and let the lighting flashes of pain come to him. Though Ethan couldn’t fault the young masseuse’s touch or technique, the pain did set his teeth on edge. It was a moment or two before Ethan was finally able to accept the pain as a part of what was going on. In a weird way, his sense of self detached from what was happening in his arm, and he opened his eyes again. The pain was still there as the young lady worked, but only the momentary flash that made his eyes flicker, and then the cold detachment came again separating him from it.

As Wanda worked the blood began to work its away around the muscle and the stiff oval that the bruise had made began to relax. However, the bruise began to redden quickly, while the flesh only gave up some of its stiffness. Ethan returned his focus to the young masseuse, she had talk about that pain wasn’t a good teacher. Yet to Ethan sometimes it was only through the knowledge of pain that one gained the experience and knowledge needed. Every Apprentice Blacksmith knew that the forge and metal was hot, but it wasn’t til someone grasp a piece that looked cool but wasn’t that the real understanding came in. Ethan didn’t actually like the pain caused by practicing with a sword but he did understand it. Every bruise, every hit was done to save his life, for in a real fight there were no second chances, no pretty and young healers off to the side waiting to help a fallen man. Lucas had taught him that there are no rules, only who walks away from a fight, sometimes that means the man is unconscious or dead, and that Ethan needed to learn his forms by reflex so that his muscle would react before his mind had a chance to stop his hand from a killing stroke. Ethan didn’t like the idea of killing anyone, but he knew that out in the wilderness the only justice one had was at the end of a sword.

Wanda talked about Ethan possibly using a limb because of the blow, and though it did worry him that he had a chance to lose his arm, he realized that if Ethan had been in a real fight he would most likely be missing one now. The young lass was essentially trying to trap Ethan’s argument in a circle of her own logic. She was worried about all the injuries he had received and continued to receive in training, while leaving Syliras and the knights protection he didn’t know what he would face. Either Ethan paid now by being treated in the safety of the city, or he would pay the price out in the wilderness or in Zeltiva. No, he had made his choice and stayed quiet, the one thing he learned about as he grew older was that there was no changing a women’s mind. The blonde lass had made her point clear, sword practice was a waste of time and could result in permanent injury. Ethan didn’t agree, but he wasn’t going to have an argument with his healer. Besides her on suggestion of just go out and do it hadn’t worked out well for him. Ethan had tried to gauge his own readiness for the trip by taking odd jobs or exploring the Alyssa Caves, each time Ethan had learned that he was under prepared and for the caves he had went with knowledge and equipment. No jumping head first into something without at least having a plan sounded awful to Ethan. Ethan didn’t like the idea of letting life just happen, a man needed goals and work to obtain what he wanted. Besides, the only luck that Ethan had seemed to be bad luck. So he shrugged at the lass, willing for the topic to go away.

“Names Ethan Ironhorse by the way,” Ethan said to the girl. “Didn’t mean to talk your ears off, just seemed like a good chance to have a bit of conversation. The only lady I get to talk to is blacksmith and just had a baby, so we end up talking about friends or her child. Whereas, the fighters and male blacksmiths are pretty much the same, ale and women. So thought it would be nice to about the excitement and ask for your opinion about magic. After all you work around it all day with the healing, where as the people I get to speak to mainly state that most people who use magic are too dangerous.” Ethan then shrugged, and then asked, “Do you think the laundry will be able to get out the blood on my armor?”
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