Bolts, Bolts, Bolts (Tara Kenja)

[Kechaiya]

Timestamp: Fall 34th, 514 AV
Location: Streets of Sunset Quarter
Time of Day: 13th Bell, Midday

Kech crept up to the corner of the intersection, trying to quiet her breathing. She was beginning to get really petching annoyed with all the violence this season. It was beyond ridiculous. Walking around the streets was never super safe, but now it was as if she could never get a moment to breathe. Always running, hiding, fixing, fighting. She was petching tired. The bigger gangs really needed to intervene on all of this. No one gave two shykes about the smaller gangs, all young punks, either rejects from the larger ones, or idiots that bonded. The road that went straight ahead through the intersection was cleared, but the one that went left she couldn't see yet. So she peered her head just around it, seeing a bunch of men a ways down all armed with crossbows. And they had spotted her.

"Oy, lass. Ya passin' through 'ere?"

Shouting back to them, "Yes. Home that way."

"Two silvas and ya can come on through.

That was reasonable enough to not get shot in Kech's mind, and it was the shortest path home. She reached into her coin purse and plucked out two silvers. Sticking her arm out, she showed them the coin. The leader nodded to one of his men who started toward her, crossbow in tow, "Belichek 'ere will walk ya through. Don' draw ya weapon, don' run, and all will be fine." A younger man, barely out of boyhood began jogging toward her. Upon arriving, he took the two silvers from her, and gestured with a hand to let her through. "I walk behind you. No want shot." The boy chuckled, "Wuh eva ya say ma'am" He started back toward the blockade, Kechaiya following in his footsteps. She didn't know if this was a gang, or just a bunch of vandals looking for easy money, but they seemed genuine enough on their deal.

She was about half to the blockade when the men shouted, "Git down!" Kechaiya didn't have to be told twice, throwing herself flat to the dirt, oofing slightly at the impact. Her escort wasn't quite as quick, taking a bolt downward through the back of his shoulder, but the angle had it extend upward higher, burying several inches. Kechaiya looked back over down where they came and saw a ragtag group of men charging toward them, makeshift shields in hand. They apparently knew of the crossbows, and had prepared themselves for it. The blockade sent out two men to fetch Kechaiya and Belichek, helping them up and running back to the safety. She was surprised at how many men were behind the stacked crates and carts, defending all four sides of an intersection. There were a few other civilians it seemed. Kechaiya looked over the varying defenses, realizing they were under attack from all sides. Just another day in Sunberth.

[Tara Kenja]

She was paid in advance. Sunberth's internal warfare raged on for days on end. She had been request several times to be brought in become a medic on both sides. Fortunately for them, she accepted the deal. The more guerilla warfare, the more money and experience she would earn. For her it was a win-win, on her side, others who risked their life for god-know-what, it was just the opposite. Tara was a very biased woman. The gang she was becoming a temporary medic for had the idea of anti-slaves. She could not protest.

Luckily she did not have to waste her Mizas on medical equipment, while it was not nearly the best supplies around, she made do. Sweat begun to gather on her forehead, trickling down the sides of her cheeks. The body count was at least a dozen in one day. The body count? At least a dozen or so and their deaths were not at all quick. Usually it was a result of an arrow or a bolt just missing its proper destination. The boy who laid sprawled out on the table was bleeding horribly. While Tara had managed to break the arrow's tip off, there was no time for a full on surgery. Holding her breath she jerked the wood out. In return the young human gave a horrible scream, following several shouts for medical aid that she could not provide at her level just yet.

He grew silent for a minute. Than his body gave violent, erratic jerks and shakes. It was all over for him. Dark crimson blood flowed thickly from his lips. At this rate of haemorrhaging all Tara could do was make his death less painful. She never, ever enjoyed her patient's death. After all, she lived for this type of thing, to save a life from Dira's grasp. Quickly she grabbed a thin dagger and quickly slid it into his soft throat. "Damnit it all to hell!" She shouted bringing her fist down on the wooden table. Yet another death that she may have been able to curve if she had the knowledge she strived for. If the arrow had not grooved it's self right beneath his stomach upon impact, he would have survived. After the take out, all it took was on inch or two deep cut along the soft organ. His lining was no where near the strength she could have hoped for.

Someone barged into the broken down building they hid in. "Aye! Tara! We need out out here!" His voice was much more educated and proper than the rest. Most likely do to the fact he was among the higher ranking in this small gang. While others were being treated she would be sent out as a medic once more. With a bandaged leg he limped in front of her, moving at a relatively strong pace for his injury. After emerging from the building's some-what safe frame, a bolt was sent their way, but her guide was quick to grab her forearm and pull her from its line of fire. He raised his voice just above the yelling and shoots being fired. "Belicek was shot, one of out top men! If we bringing him across the field in his state than not only him but my other men will be good as dead!"

Now she was beginning to raise her voice. "What do you want me to do?! Treat him while he's out there!" He grew silent for a moment than nodded the look she gave him registered to scream out that he was purely insane. Than he placed a hand on her shoulder as the crouched behind staked thick crates. Now he was close enough to her ears for him not to have to yell. "Tara, you have to do this. Other wise all this work you've done is but for a lost cause. After all Belicek knows the most about our opponents for his age. We need him."

[Kechaiya]

Normally, Kech would have demanded payment for a patient prior to treatment. But considering that they were under attack, and she would be no good in defending the area, she could treat the wounded and get payment after the survived. And if they died, mizas weren't really a worry any more. She moved over to Belichek, working to keep her head down so she didn't end up like him, or worse. He was on his stomach, groaning in pain. She moved to touch the bolt, "Don't touch him!" Kechaiya shot the nervous man yelling a glare, "I doctor, want him live? I treat him. You keep me from dying from them," gesturing her hand toward the screaming attackers around the fortified position.

The man shut up and turned back to focus on the gangster attack. Kech was noting the length of the bolt, about a foot long. About five inches of it were embedded in the man. It had entered just to the left of his right shoulder blade and angled upward. The arrowhead hadn't exited the body but she could see a bulge near the collarbone. She put her ear to the man's back, listening to his breathing. It sounded normal, so it seemed his lung hadn't been hit. That meant he had a chance. Moving her pack over, she was about to pull out her gear, when a cry was heard from behind her. A man fell backwards, a sword lodged in his side, clutching at it, blood spurting out from beneath his fingers. She watched as the attacker had his head separated from his shoulders, which bounced down in to the protected area. She left Belichek, for the new injury. Belichek wouldn't die as quickly as this man might.

The man was on his back, hands now working to grasp at the blade. Kech smacked them away, "No, you die. I doctor. I fix you, you need do what I say." If he pulled it out before she was ready to handle it, he would bleed out and die. She hurriedly pulled out several bandages, salves, and her tool kits. Her eyes were examining how far the blade was lodged, from what looked like a sideways swing. Running along the edge to where it broke the skin, about seven inches above his hip, she estimated that it had only sank about two to three inches in. Looking down at the man, she could see that he wasn't especially panicky. "I need you focus. I pull out sword, will bleed lots. I need inspect wound, clean, stitch close. When I tell you, you do. We not have lot time. Understand?"

The man nodded, and Kech prepped her work space. She placed clean bandages on him, pulled out several salves and her sewing kit. The last jar she pulled out was the grain alcohol. She dipped her needles and grips in it, the thread, before threading the needle. She didn't splash her hands just yet, since she needed to remove the blade. She stood up, the handle of the sword sticking out in front of her. She gave him no warning, as she gripped the hilt, and started to try and pull the sword from the flesh. He was groaning in pain, and through gritted teeth, Kech growled, "No move!" It felt lodged, perhaps in a rib, but she continued huffing and heaving to get it out. Then suddenly, it broke loose, and she fell backwards, losing the grip on the sword. It flew out of the fortifications, and she heard a scream of pain that she hoped was an attacker. The blood was flowing heavily now, and Kech scrambled back to her patient, splashing her hands with the alcohol, preparing herself to get in there.

[Tara Kenja]

Tara crinkled her nose, she was so indifferent to this plan. Why risk their doctor's life over one. Though, she did not question him. She was getting paid and right now that was all that really mattered to her. Her hands were already cleansed, all she need was her supplies. Abandoning the leader she pushed her way back into the ruined stone building.

There was a small bag, grabbing it she began to stuff medical tools the gang had provided her with. A needle, alcohol, stitching string, and a small knife. Holding the pack in her hand she returned to the chaos. She kept her body as low as possible. Running behind the hay supported crumbling walls, there was so much going on. Only a few times had she been around this type of gang battle.

Almost tripping, she hopped over a dead body. They were every where. Men fell left and right and from peering over the barricades every two ticks it was happening on both sides. Maybe it would lead to a stalemate, she was unsure. Though both sides would have more than a few casualties in the end. Than her hazel eyes found the man described to her as Belichek and whomever he was supposed to be in charge of safely escorting.

Her heart beat was so fast, she could practically hear it racing behind her skin. The woman, of a race she was unfamiliar with, owned a pair of pitch black eyes. Her hands worked on what seemed to be another man, blood was everywhere. Almost every where she looked there was a splatter of blood. The black-eyed woman seemed to be aiding another man but yet, Belicheck was still face down in the mud. Screams filled her ears the closer she stalked to the gory scene.

Tara noticed the woman carried even more medical salves and creams than the Kelvic. She wouldn't mind if she snatched a few anyway right? Even in the heat of such a fight she may not even have the time to take note of a missing jaw or two.. Dropping to her knees the damp soil, she heaved up the bow, the bolt lodged within his shoulder blade area. There was evidence that the bolt had not gone all the way through, it was time she took it the rest of the way. Immediately she held down Belicheck, preparing both the boy and her for what was about to happen.

It was not going to be a pleasant time at all. Flipping him over on his left side. He gritted his teeth, with every movement Tara placed onto him would be painful, there is no doubting that. She tore the thin shirt he wore and revealed the pointed bulge just outside of his skin. Wrapping the torn fabric she than proceeded to place it in his mouth.

It was better to bite on that than his own hardened teeth. Taking the sterilized steel knife Tara began to slice the thin flesh directly between the head and the exit. Belicheck tried to scream but it only came out as high-pitched muffled moans. Her eyes closely examined the arrow as it was now fully exposed and his torn flesh was in need of proper stitches, badly. Slowly she began to pull the arrow forward, the head was now outside of his body. Quickly she broke the shaft as close as she could to his back.

That forced a more audible scream from his throat. Ignoring him, she went about with the task she was paid to do. Tara than began to slide the front of the arrow completely through him. Belicheck tried to struggle out of her grasp but her tight hands would refuse to loosen her grip. His blood was thick on her hands. Picking up a damped wash cloth, she whipped most of her hands clean, preparing to than move in on stitches.

Tara threw the fully removed bolt to the side. Gently she went around the fresh cut on above his chest. Slowly she placed him on his back, he protested with a loud groan. "I am almost done boy.." Kneeling down next to Belicheck, she made note of every single little detail she could catch. To her left was the alcohol, she proceeded to run the string through the liquid as well. Examining the wound she threaded the needle and than weaved in and out both sides.

As gently as possible she pulled the string and the wound pulled all tougher. Turning him over, she began to do the same on his back. Maneuvering the sanitized needle and string in and out of his raw flesh. Shaking she wiped her forehead, there was a thin residue of blood now on her tan skin. Tara was very stressed about how she preformed, she was only doing her best. The Kelvic than quickly grabbed what looked like Krolar Poultice.

Ignoring the woman almost all together she cleansed her hands once more to apply the thin paste substance. Running her fingers softly over the string Belicheck must have passed out because she was unable to gather any major movements. Tara placed her finger carefully on his neck and searched for a pulse. She held her breath and than had a giant relief as soon as she could feel the gentle beat. It almost seemed as though the war that raged around her was now calm. It was very, very surreal.

How could her concentration even lead to her not paying attention to what was going on around her? Her work was done. Undoubtedly the Mizas in the end would taste as sweet as sugar.
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[Vanari]

Please update your ledger to reflect both Summer and Fall living expenses and I will put your grade up ASAP!