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Not found on any map, Endrykas is a large migrating tent city wherein the horseclans of Cyphrus gather to trade and exchange information. [Lore]

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Postby Konrad Venger on September 27th, 2017, 10:16 am

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10th Bell - 20th Day of Fall, 517AV - The River Flower


The pain woke him up. He was dreaming, though about what he couldn't remember, and there was a dull throb of light, blinding his Dreamscape eyes. Every time it pulsed through that sleeping world, he winced, or hid his eyes, until finally he put up his hands and-

-breathed deep the air of reality, and groaned.

"Good morning, walahk."

Konrad blinked and recognized the middle-aged face that stared down at him. The smile was polite, perfunctory, not quite reaching the eyes. The same face that had tended to him the day before, when he'd been dragged into the River Flower missing half the blood in his body.

Longwell. Fiametta. Yukmen. Konrad remembered all of it, after a fashion.

"How long've I bin out?"

"Just a night," the healer said, as familiar with Common as he was with Pavi, apparently. Watering, tinkling against itself, and Konrad saw the man raise wet, clean hands. "I need to turn you over. Change your dressing."

Konrad braced one hand on the edge of the bed, and felt a gentle hand with a firm grip around his wrist.

"I said that I will turn you over. Not you. You may do it wrong and rip your stitches. That's more work for me and, frankly, I'd rather not waste anymore thread on one patient."

Konrad chuckled, a sound both dry and turgid. Aching for water but not lacking in phlegm. He'd heard that the master of this pavilion was a gifted healer, but had the bedside manner of a petching mortician. Not he knew for a fact.

Shame it took [i]this to know it. [/i]

It was a simple, painful, annoying procedure. Konrad ground his teeth and let himself be turned onto his belly. He'd have liked to see what was going on, but with a wound on his lower back... well, he contented himself with what he could see, instead.

Short rows of beds. Most empty, some filled. Hunting injuries, bloody and foolish. Falls from horses, sickness, disease... one of them behind a thick mosquito net, tended by a nurse bedecked in rubber. Konrad suppressed a shudder. Whatever that man had, it was catching. He made a note not to go near the bastard.

"There. All done."

They turned Konrad back over, Nehrar and his helper, and then the walahk caught sight of someone in the opening of the pavilion. But it didn't make sense for her to be there. For anyone to be there. Not for him. Why would they be, after all?

But he blinked and blinked and took some water and even refreshed and clear-eyed... no, she was still there. Any doubt vanished when Nehrar thumbed over his shoulder and said, "Oh, yes, she has been wishing to see you. I told her to wait until after I was finished. You two may talk now."

Then he was gone, the blunt old fart, and Konrad was left looking at her. Torn between confusion and his usual sullen anger. Trying to shuffle up on his elbows, unknowingly desperate not to appear weak, not to appear wounded, even with half his torso swaddled and his ruddy complexion now pale. He'd lost a lot of blood; it'd be a few days before he got it back.

The vision walked towards him, and Konrad did not like how she towered over his bedridden form. Bedridden. That was him now. Bloody wonderful.

"What're youse doin' here, woman?"

||Common||Thoughts||Pavi||Fratava||Myrian||Other's Speaking||
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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Mending

Postby Sloane on September 27th, 2017, 3:27 pm

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Sloane stood outside of the River Flower's main tent, her hands wringing together anxiously as she watched through the tent flap, her brows drawing together with empathy as the healers tended to Hansel's back. One of his companions had sent a runner to the pavilion, informing them of the accident. Blood, lots of it. Sloane had picked from the brief exchange, and those few words had sent her mind whirring and heart racing, her imagination escaping her, fear and foreboding taking it's place. Before the messenger had even finished she'd slipped away, leaving the others to exchange nervous looks and worry over what they would do if they were to lose Hansel and his magic.

She stepped back as the healers left, making room for them to exit the tent, and ducked in after them. She moved slowly, hesitantly towards Hansel, eye's darting around to take him in. The wound had looked bad, but she supposed it mustn't be quite so threatening to him, especially if the healer was content to still let him lay on his back. She reached his bedside and stood still for a moment, at a loss for words as she finally lowered herself to kneel by him, her hands clenched tightly on her knees as she continued to study him, her gaze intent. She'd never seen him look so weak and sickly, and it was so unlike him that she felt a swell of fear just from that alone. Sloane was well used to being weak, but it was something she'd never seen from Hansel. He'd always been gruff, standoffish, even cruel on occasion. Always strong.

Sniffing, Sloane lurched forward suddenly, throwing her arms around Hansel's shoulders in a hug, gentling at the last moment as she feared she may hurt him. The contact calmed her somewhat, and squeezing her eye's closed Sloane took a shaky breath. Alive, he's alive. Not well enough to kill me for touching him, but alive. "I thought--" She gulped, blinking rapidly as she leant back to look down at him. "I... I'm so glad you're okay." She breathed finally, sagging back to sit on the ground, rubbing at her face. Suddenly she felt drained and tired, relieved and certain that the wound wasn't fatal, she could finally relax, if just a little. "The messenger made it sound like..." Sloane shook her head, cutting herself off. It doesn't matter. He'll be okay. "What happened?"

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Mending

Postby Konrad Venger on September 28th, 2017, 10:23 am

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She just stared at him. Her eyes all wet and roiling with something he couldn't quite place. At least she wasn't looming over him anymore, reminding him of just how petching pitiful he was. Still, the intensity of her stare was enough to make the wounded man shuffle and twitch, mouth opening to deliver something barbed and impatient to get her to-

Then there was warmth and softness around his neck. Sinking into his shoulders like the steam of a sauna. He gasped and groped for a weapon that wasn't there out of sheer instinct, and the inhalation invited aromas alien and forgotten to him.

Konrad's mouth hung open a few ticks before he realized what she was doing... and that it wasn't trying to smother or strangle him. His eyes darted around and took in the handful of stunned glances his direction.

You and me both, were the only words that bubbled up in his mind.

"I thought--I... I'm so glad you're okay."

Of course I am! Take more than some petching mudman with an old scythe to do me in! What the hells were you expecting, woman? To find me on my death bed? And what's all this carry on, with the hugging and the wet eyes?

"... mhmm."

Oh, but he could be cutting when he wanted to be. Eloquent and acerbic, too. Perfectly demonstrated when he managed something like a non-verbal reply and she pulled away, sinking slowly back onto his pillow as Sloane seemed to collapse into herself opposite him.

Konrad was a great one for observation. Watching. Studying. For weaknesses and openings. He'd seen that look before. In the terrified and the concerned, the mourning and the familiar. The way their hearts and feelings were tied to others so much that their pain became enmeshed with theirs. Now she saw the same thing in this girl he'd tried to enslave, mere seasons ago.

Saw what it meant in instantly a world of snarling blades came up to force it away.

"The messenger made it sound like... What happened?"

"Yukmen," Konrad said simply, latching onto any chance to talk about anything but what had just happened. "Out inna' grass. Wuz trackin' somethin' from me snare got loose, found it... an' dem. Godda' bunch of 'em, 'long wiv' a couple a' folk from the city, but the big one, the boss?" Probably not the right word, but Konrad shrugged internally. He was a sellsword, not a petching anthropologist. "Godin' a lucky swipe a'fore I cleaved 'is 'ead open."

He wished there was more to tell. More words to fill the air with and stop her from saying anything else. He didn't understand her anymore. He was looking, so, so closely for some deception in her concern. He'd told her, long ago, that he wasn't fooled by her caring act... and been quickly reminded that it was no act, no mummer's farce designed to endear her to him.

Konrad had believed her then. He believed her now, in her fear for him. It made his hands twitch and his mouth dry. He reached for the water by the bed-

-and a thousand angry nerves growled at him to halt.

"Could... dat water, eh?"

||Common||Thoughts||Pavi||Fratava||Myrian||Other's Speaking||
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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
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Mending

Postby Sloane on September 29th, 2017, 3:58 pm

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Sloane's face twisted at the mention of Yukmen. She'd never seen one herself, but she'd heard many stories about the monsters, both in Syliras and during the journey to Endrykas. "At least you weren't on your own." She murmured, and a shiver slipped down her spine to think what the outcome may have been had he been alone, Sloane sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. "What about the healers? Have they said anything? How long it will take to heal?" Sloane knew only the basics when it came to medicine, and she didn't have the slightest idea how often the bandages would need to be changed, let alone how long it might take to heal.

"Do you know when you can come back to the pavilion?" Sloane added, eye's darting around the tent quickly, taking in the sickly that Hansel shared the space with. To be so close to so many ill, he'd be better off at the pavilion. Sloane thought to herself, her lips pursing tightly as a man further down the row of beds began to cough loudly, spraying spit into the air. She sighed and returned her gaze to Hansel, her mouth softening into a small, smug smile. "I wasn't the only one worried either." She started. "Dashiel was quite upset when he heard the news. He wanted to come, but I wasn't sure you'd want to see anyone."

Sloane reached for the water, sighing softly as she held it out for him, concern still twisting in her gut, though it was far from what it had been before. "What are you going to do with yourself while you heal?" She wondered, shaking her head. Hansel was hardly a patient man, and he was so ridiculously independant, to the point that Sloane worried he'd begin to push himself before his body was ready. Sloane was beginning to get the impression that the next days were going to be a nightmare for the man.

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Mending

Postby Konrad Venger on September 30th, 2017, 6:08 pm

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Question after question was flung his way and Konrad was already feeling a shuffling sense of unease in his guts. Or maybe that was just a shyke that had yet to drop... or just the endless, dull ache from his lower back, like a brand that was never quite healing over.

Could have been worse.

"They dunno," he muttered, gulping down water and catching himself hiding behind the cup, as if from her questions. So he placed it down, a little more forcefully than intended. Bollocks to that. "Depends on 'ow fast me body knits back, y'ken? Prob'ly gonna 'ave me off me feet fer a while."

That last sentence came out in tones pitch-black and bloody well unimpressed.
Konrad remembered the last time he'd spent a season recovering from his wounds. Holed up in some slum shykehole in Sunberth, doors barred at all times, weapons strewn around his bed, waiting for anyone with a grudge to settle to batter their way in and finish him. Never happened of course, but the waiting... the days upon days of... nothing...

"Dey wanna keep me fer a few more days, see 'ow I'm doin'," he said when she spoke again, yet another question. He caught the slyly triumphant look on her face when she kept talking, mentioning that bloody black brat. As if he gave a shyke about some scarred-up older bugger who threw him a copper now and then? "Prob'ly wond'rin' when I'mma come back an' pay 'im. Or teach 'im s'more shyke 'bout brawlin'."

Some semblance of the man she'd first met surfaced in the sneer he gave her from the bed. Wounded and weakened he may have been, but Konrad had not changed that much, it seemed.

"Dun' go thinkin' s'cuz they like me, girl. They like what I can do, an' what I can give 'em. An' they'd like it much more if it weren't me doin' it."

He gulped down some more proffered water and enjoyed the momentary silence. Still that look of concern didn't leave her eyes; still it seemed to pin him like an ant under a hot lamp, making him squirm internally, drying him out even as he wet his lips. Whatever dark satisfaction he took from setting her straight moments ago, vanished when she spoke again.

"What are you going to do with yourself while you heal?"

Konrad sighed and looked away. Nothing to read, in the pavilion. Not a very literary-inclined people, were the Drykas, but who was he to petching judge? Few people to talk to, and again, since when was he a sodding conversationalist? The nurse came to change his sheets, he got a wash every other day, and that surly healer made sure his wound didn't turn to rot and kill him... but apart from that, he was on his back or his belly, studying the floor or ground respectively.

Then he smiled, and raised a hand. Just a little. But enough for Sloane to see the scar on his palm glow, and then res to ooze out of it. Green and black and swirling until his will gathered it into a ball, hovering between him... and the cup... and with a word whispered in his mind-

Come.

-the water from the cup started to peek over the rim, then bubble over it... towards the res... reaching out as the man talked.

"practice me wyrd, I 'spose. Ain't got shyke else t'do, y'ken? Make it easier for me to, aye? Learn t'get water t'me without havin' to get someone else to-"

A twinge. That's all it was. A rattling nerve somewhere in his back that ricocheted up his spine and down his arm like a ball bearing in a crooked pipe. Enough to get his hand shaking and then spikes were in his hands and the pain made him curse-

-the water splashed across his chest, and Konrad scowled at it.

"Well... mebbe somethin' smaller t'start..."

He should have ended it there. No need to speak any more, after all. He'd answered her questions and didn't feel like running his mouth, tongue knackered from all the jawing as it was. Besides, it wasn't Konrad's way, to splurge out words all the time. But she'd arrived, and fretted, and... hugged him, for some ungodly reason. Now some nudging concern in him demanded some equality to this exchange. That since she'd spewed out so much he should reply with at least a-

"How dey been treatin' ya?" She looked up sharply, eyes bright as blades and Konrad felt them on his throat. But still he spoke. "I mean... y'get yer ol' job back n'that?"

||Common||Thoughts||Pavi||Fratava||Myrian||Other's Speaking||
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Note: As of Fall 517AV, Konrad is known only as "Hansel" in Endrykas
User avatar
Konrad Venger
Long is The Way and Hard
 
Posts: 923
Words: 1060755
Joined roleplay: November 23rd, 2015, 4:05 pm
Location: Endrykas
Race: Human, Mixed
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Plotnotes
Medals: 4
Featured Thread (1) Overlored (1)
Donor (1) One Million Words! (1)


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