The Bad Samaritan (private)

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

The Bad Samaritan (private)

Postby Abashai on July 22nd, 2011, 12:20 pm

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Abashai rolled his eyes as the symenestra quipped his sarcastic reply. So, Widows have a sense of humor too. The benshiran saw the tree tops shake as Duvalyon descended a few branches, looking in the direction the sym indicated. The call of the man in the distance confirmed it.

The girl leaning against his chest stirred at the sound of the man, sitting up as if the familiar voice had lifted the fog of her injury from her mind. "Papa?" She exclaimed weakly, looking around eagerly. Abashai steered Sus to the northwest, turning his head enough to see the symenestra drop from the tree to fall in behind them.

Not more than a chime later the man's voice was heard again, much closer this time. "Mikka!?" The forest broke into a clearing, revealing a bearded man scanning the woodland's border intently. Behind him, a wagon hitched to a mule waited with two boys, one a teenager, one little more than a toddler. At the sight of the mounted man and his daughter, the man ran towards the rider.

"Mikka! Are you alright, thank the gods!"
He reached for the girl, whom Abashai handed down to him with care. "Careful, she has a deep gash in her side, it has been treated." Taking his daughter into his arms, the father hugged her tightly, muttering prayers, the injured girl groaning in pain and breaking into tears again. Then the man's eyes fell upon Duvalyon, and after a moment of intense scrutiny, and a suspicious glance to the mounted benshira, the stranger took a few steps back. "What is a widow doing here?" He ask warily, a tinge of threatening in his tone. Behind the man, Abashai could see the older son holding a crossbow, aimed at Duvalyon.

"Stay your shot, boy," Abashai commanded with authority,"...the sym saved the girl, the stitch work on her side is his." the rider glanced back at Duvalyon, a measure of acceptance revealed in his features.

Abashai's immediate suspicion of Duvalyon had abated, but the more sinister purpose of the Widow's presence in Sylira never left the back of his mind. Nevertheless, the sym had saved the girl out of some sense of decency, and for that, the benshiran gave him credit.

"The wound was grievous, it will need attention, I am sure."
Again his gaze fell on Duvalyon, an invitation to approach, to offer instructions and receive the acknowledgment due to him.
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The Bad Samaritan (private)

Postby Abashai on July 22nd, 2011, 12:22 pm

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Abashai rolled his eyes as the symenestra quipped his sarcastic reply. So, Widows have a sense of humor too. The benshiran saw the tree tops shake as Duvalyon descended a few branches, looking in the direction the sym indicated. The call of the man in the distance confirmed it.

The girl leaning against his chest stirred at the sound of the man, sitting up as if the familiar voice had lifted the fog of her injury from her mind. "Papa?" She exclaimed weakly, looking around eagerly. Abashai steered Sus to the northwest, turning his head enough to see the symenestra drop from the tree to fall in behind them.

Not more than a chime later the man's voice was heard again, much closer this time. "Mikka!?" The forest broke into a clearing, revealing a bearded man scanning the woodland's border intently. Behind him, a wagon hitched to a mule waited with two boys, one a teenager, one little more than a toddler. At the sight of the mounted man and his daughter, the man ran towards the rider.

"Mikka! Are you alright, thank the gods!"
He reached for the girl, whom Abashai handed down to him with care. "Careful, she has a deep gash in her side, it has been treated." Taking his daughter into his arms, the father hugged her tightly, muttering prayers, the injured girl groaning in pain and breaking into tears again. Then the man's eyes fell upon Duvalyon, and after a moment of intense scrutiny, and a suspicious glance to the mounted benshira, the stranger took a few steps back. "What is a widow doing here?" He ask warily, a tinge of threatening in his tone. Behind the man, Abashai could see the older son holding a crossbow, aimed at Duvalyon.

"Stay your shot, boy," Abashai commanded with authority,"...the sym saved the girl, the stitch work on her side is his." the rider glanced back at Duvalyon, a measure of acceptance revealed in his features.

Abashai's immediate suspicion of Duvalyon had abated, but the more sinister purpose of the Widow's presence in Sylira never left the back of his mind. Nevertheless, the sym had saved the girl out of some sense of decency, and for that, the benshiran gave him credit.

"The wound was grievous, it will need attention, I am sure."
Again his gaze fell on Duvalyon, an invitation to approach, to offer instructions and receive the acknowledgment due to him.
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The Bad Samaritan (private)

Postby Duvalyon Hellebore on August 1st, 2011, 12:53 am



Despite the cloud of murderous intent around him, Duvalyon’s posture appeared dignified and calm. It was likely not his first experience with near mortality. If he had any reaction, he had learned to smother it in cool steadiness.

When given subtle invitation, he stepped forward with the uncanny gait of his kind, as if the ground was unnecessary.

Hi voice was brisk and authoritative to the point of rudeness.
“The catgut I used for stitching will dissolve in time. Don’t use any of your primitive poultices on the wound unless you want it to rot. Keep it clean but don’t use anything severe in the washing, otherwise the stitching will disintegrate before it is proper. Her leg is sprained, don’t let her walk on it and keep it immobile for several weeks. Chani tea in small doses may be appropriate for pain.”

His didactic tone continued, “And thank both Yahal and Viratas for your daughter, if you have any concept of piety.”

The family had a tense wariness that slowed their movements. They watched Duvalyon with a mix of confusion and disgust. He had rendered them a service, but it would only temporarily outweigh the crime of his perverse will to exist.

Salt of the earth sorts were often Duvalyon’s bane. Their common sense understanding of “bad” could not be easily overcome. Surprisingly, the Symenestra found the well-fed and overly educated made for easier prey. The latter wanted to believe all races were like-minded, and widows were only bogeymen for the ignorant who didn’t understand other cultures.

Knowing his time in good graces was scant, Duvalyon bowed his head in farewell to the family.

When Abashai returned to the road, the Symenestra was waiting for him.

“My gratitude for your good word.”

A straightforward thanks given in an honorable tone. Duvalyon knew the Benshira could have righteous murder on his mind, but the widow would not let deserved thanks go unspoken.

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The Bad Samaritan (private)

Postby Abashai on August 4th, 2011, 3:34 pm

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Vanator stood by as Duvalyon approached. What the benshiran once would have considered an arrogant demeanor, Abashai now recognized as an act of bravery and integrity on the part of the symenestra. He understood what it took for the Widow to walk into the midst of humans who were uneducated and surely raised with a hatred of the spider-people. Shai's eyes shifted from the Widow to the farmers, his stern gaze intended to quell any hostile action against Duvalyon.

Having delivered his instructions for the care of the girl's wounds, the symenestra took his leave of the family, the air of thick tension dissipating as he departed to wait by the road. The man, clinging to his daughter protectively, listened to the symenestra speak, but muttered not a word. Abashai turned to face the farmer. "You owe her life to him. Get her home and take care of her, the Widow is right, the gods have blessed you this day." With a curt nod, the benshiran turned to return to the road, his horse in tow. He bore a bit of shame for his race, in that the farmer would not so much as nod to Duvalyon, so prejudiced that it prevented him from showing gratitude for the life of his daughter. Then again, when he first met the symenestra, he shouldered the same prejudice against him.

The benshiran stopped when he reached the road, and Duvalyon. He nodded as the Widow expressed his thanks. The symenstra had earned Abashai's begrudged respect. "The truth is what it is, no matter its face." He responded.

There are accounts in the chronicles of ancient wars, tales of two iindividual enemies meeting under extraordinary circumstances, where the foes undergo an event that exposes their commonalities. Each one is forced to understand the other a bit better, to discover in some ways they are not so different. When the encounter is over, they are no less enemies, their peoples still war, and the adversaries could very well kill each other on another day. But for that short span of time, respect for one another is forged. Over time, if enough of these experiences occur, perhaps, in future generations, the wars could be ended.

Abashai had that experience with Duvalyon. Humans and Symenestra were ideologically opposed. Shai could have tried to kill the symenestra, for surely Duvalyon will one day find the human victim his family needs. But the revelations of the day prevented the benshiran from acting on his sense of duty, if only for the day. This day, Duvalyon the Symenestra had earned his life.

With a knowing nod to Duvalyon, Abashai mounted the desertbred and guided the horse up the road, and away from the symenstra. Exposing his back in faith was as much a nod of respect to the Widow as any word the benshiran could have spoken.
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The Bad Samaritan (private)

Postby Verilian on September 28th, 2011, 6:55 pm

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Duvalyon Hellebore

  • +3 Medicine
  • +1 Manipulation
  • +1 Philosophy
  • +1 Climbing

Lores: Poor Bedside Manner, Preserving Blood, Family Pride, Divulging a bit of Oneself, An Experience of Mutual Respect

Abashai

  • +1 Medicine
  • +1 Interrogation
  • +1 Riding
  • +1 Philosophy

Lores: Better Bedside Manner, Lore of Viratas (Poor), An Insight into the Symenestra, Riding with an injured passenger, An Experience of Mutual Respect

You Question My Logic? :
If you have any questions on the awarded xp/lores, or feel that I missed something or didn't award enough, feel free to PM me with your concerns.


Notes: I found this a very interesting thread to read. I love it when the "evil" races get a chance to explain things from their point of view. Good job, guys!
Forecast for tonight... Dark
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