Quest Bloodlines

[Paragon]

Timestamp: 89th of Spring, 513 AV Leila did not awaken to the sun, or the bonesnapper howling at her window casements. She awoke to the rustling of parchment beneath her door. A scrap with dark ink penned upon its surface. Whoever had posted the note was long gone.

[Leila]

Leila had tossed fitfully in her sleep for the last two nights, ever since Ricky had returned. Her heart was hurting, and she had barely found the desire or drive to even get out of bed. She hadn't seen him or spoken to him since that night after she stormed off in tears, meeting that kind man with the cold hands afterwards. Leila couldn't understand, let alone accept, why Ricky had done all of that. Did she mean nothing to him? Was she just another pretty face to him? As Leila tossed one last time, her ears picked up a scratching at the door. She thought it was Shaco needing to go relieve himself, but it felt too early for that. Groggy she sat up, and found Shaco still asleep at her feet. The daze of sleep still shrouding her thoughts, she just sat there confused. Then she looked across the room and saw a note sitting on her floor by the door. Shaco was now awake and alert, and hopped off the bed, sniffing at the paper intruder. Deeming it not a threat, he sat down next to the door, to await Leila. Leila got up, dressed in only her sheer nightdress, her feet alighting on the ground. She picked up the paper, and opened the door, and peeked out. No one was there, so she opened it enough so Shaco could go take care of his business. She then read the note, curiosity abounding as she finished. Leila wondered who had done this. There was no signature, nor did she know anyone in the Denvali Quarter. She'd only even visited it once, that first night with Ricky. It brought back memories of the first kiss they'd shared, the joy and nervousness from the act, and the painful memories from his betrayal. We need you. Really stuck out in her mind. Who was this? How did they know about her? What was she needed for? But Leila shook off these thoughts. All that mattered was that someone needed her, finally. She thought about bringing Shaco as she let him back in, especially since she'd have to walk through East Street. However, she decided against it, since she didn't know whose home she'd be entering, and didn't know if it would be okay for him to be there. She rubbed his head, "Guard the house, I'll be back before you know it." Leila quickly dressed, and threw her empty backpack on her bed. She didn't know what she'd need, so she tried to pack for any situation. She packed her herbalism book, her journal, her herbalism kit, attached her waterskin to the outside, and felt that was good enough. She slipped her arms through the pack, and stepped out into the early morning light. She made a quick pace up the street, entering East Street. She relaxed somewhat as she saw a few of the blue garbed Wave Guards. None of them were Ricky, but that didn't matter any more. She eventually found her way to the tacky colored buildings indicating the Denvali Quarter. She didn't know where the Viratas Rise was, but she asked the first person she saw, and they directed her there. The blue brick house stood out like a sore thumb, and personally Leila wasn't too fond of the color. She walked right up to the door, and knocked on it lightly three times. "Hello?"

[Paragon]

There was a short wait, while Leila stood breathlessly before the door. The sun had not risen over Zeltiva in its full glory yet, and so a pearly, wispy grey coated the city. There was a light chill in the air, but it was comparatively warm. Finally, a creaking behind the wood brought Leila's attention back to the door, and as it opened her eyes would fall upon a female figure enshrouded in a cloak. The cloak was no ordinary item of clothing. It was dark blue in hue, like a sky just shifting to night, and velvet to the keen eye. "Leila Hughes," the woman said. Her voice was youthful, but it had a liquid poison to it as well, as if able to lull men to their doom like the stories of the sirens in Mathews Bay. "Please come in. I trust you weren't followed." If she stepped into the house she would find a rather grand reception room. Stairs ran up to another floor, but the square room itself housed small alcoves of potted flowers, and ornate boxes and casks everywhere. Inside, the woman lowered her hood to reveal icy blue eyes, and a mane of rich, raven hair. "I am glad you responded to the note with such alacrity."

[Leila]

The air was humid, but Leila's skin still rose in bumps from the chill. She rubbed at her arms as she looked around her nervously, wondering if she was in fact in the right place after all. Normally Leila loved Zeltiva's morning fog, but today, under these mysterious circumstances, it was just unsettling her. Then she heard a wooden creak, and her eyes fell on the now opening doorway, and the cloaked figure standing therein. Leila could tell immediately by the slight curves, noticeable even in the cloak, especially around the hips, that it was a woman. The cloak looked soft, warm, something Leila could snuggle on an especially cold and lonely night. Leila didn't recognize the fabric, but if there was an appropriate time during this strange time, she would try and find out. Then the woman said her name, a voice young like herself, but there was something else to it that Leila couldn't quite pin down. Something alluring to it, similar to the night when she'd met Ignotus Everto. And he was a good man, so if hers was similarly peculiar as his, then she might be a good person too. The next line out of her mouth though took Leila by surprise. Followed? Why in the world would she have been followed? She hadn't even though of checking to see if that was likely. She could've been followed by plenty of people and wouldn't have noticed. "I... I don't know if I was followed or not. I... I don't think so." Once inside, Leila found her in a room that amazed her. Large, ornate, and filled to the brim with plant life. The entire room seemed to suggest wealth to her, but not excessively so. It was done in a similar taste to how Leila would like to see her own shop one day. But that was a dream for a distant time. Leila found herself slightly jealous, only more so when she saw the beauty in the woman's eyes, bluer than Mathew's Bay on the clearest of days. She could at least take a little comfort in the fact that she did prefer her own hair to the woman's midnight shade. She didn't know what the word 'alacrity' meant, but she assumed it to mean haste. "I came as soon as I awoke and was ready, what is it you need me for?" She had more questions, more things she felt she needed to know. But Leila was first and foremost a servant for the greater good, even if she herself didn't realize it. She'd always had a habit of taking care of what needed done before asking who, what, when, where, and why. Who was this woman? What was Leila needed for? How did she even know of Leila in this big city? All questions on the tip of her tongue that were held behind the desire to help someone in need.

[Paragon]

"Well then, let's assume you weren't," the woman said in response, gracing Leila with a slight nod. "You have come this far - and so I doubt you are going to turn back now. If you trust me, you'll follow me." The woman took to the stairs. A slow, measured step, but the gait seemed to assume that Leila would follow. Of course, the choice was hers, and this whole situation was far from normal. Five steps up, the woman turned back over her shoulder. "I assume you have medicinal supplies with you? I need your talents, Leila. What else?" She took one more step, and whether Leila had followed or walked clean out of the door, she spoke without turning her head back round. "But whether you choose to help or not, it is imperative you do not speak a word of this trip to anyone else."

[Leila]

Of course Leila wasn't going to turn back. Someone needed her help, more evident now than ever. Leila began to follow the woman up the stairs, relieved that at least her question had been somewhat answered. Leila trusted the woman, of course, why wouldn't she? "Yes, I brought my herbalism kit, but I'm a far cry from one of the doctors at the Infirmary. I will do my best to help, if someone needs me, I will help. I'm not going anywhere now. And I will tell no one, it doesn't matter. What matters is that this gets taken care of. Let's get this taken care of, I imagine this is a matter of some haste. Take me to the one who needs my help." Leila rarely ever got aggravated or annoyed, but there was someone who was sick, or hurt, or dying, or something that needed her, and this woman's coy nature was delaying their treatment. Leila didn't care if this person was the king of the Denvali people or a murdering scumbag. Motive didn't matter when it came to helping. Fix them up as best you can, and let the gods sort them out.

[Paragon]

The woman continued walking, but spoke as she ascended the steps. "That is precisely why I called on you. I cannot have an institution like the Infirmary involved in this." Her words were cryptic, but knowing. When they finally reached the first floor, the woman headed straight for a room and opened the door gingerly, ushering Leila in. Inside, she found a bedridden man. He had medium length dark hair, and an eyepatch covered one of his eyes. "He usually has a personal doctor - but he is out of town currently." The woman adjusted the bed sheets nonchalantly. "He has heart problems, Leila. A jumpy heart, the doctor says. And now I fear he has a high fever. Will you try and work out what's happening with him?" Still, the woman gave no names. But there was space beside the bed, and a small table for Leila to set her bag down upon. Some investigation and diagnosis was needed.

[Leila]

Leila was surprised, they couldn't use the Infirmary for some secret reason. That probably meant they or he, were involved in something illegal. But that mattered not to Leila. Ask no questions, hear nothing you didn't want to hear. This man was sick. And clearly he was important if he normally had a personal doctor. He was neither young nor old, and had this rugged look about him. They eyepatch was a surprise, but not overly so, many people in Zeltiva had them. A jumpy heart the woman said. Leila might be an herbalist, but she was no doctor, and couldn't do more than provide herbs that were commonly known to help the heart. In response to the woman, "Yes, of course." But the fever she could take care of. "Has he received any wounds recently, that may have gotten infected?" She set her bag upon the table next to the bed, pulled out her two books, setting them neatly to one side, then setting her kit next to those, then finally setting down her waterskin. Leila bent over the man, and placed the back of her hand to his forehead. He was indeed very warm. Leila decided to make the woman her temporary assistant, "I need you to go get three rags and soak them in the coolest water you have available, wring them out before returning. We will put one on his forehead, and one on each inner thigh. They will have to be changed regularly to help his body maintain temperature." Leila then opened the neck of her waterskin and set it carefully on the table. She then delved into her kit, first pulling out her staple ingredient in most pasts and salves and cures she made, a small jar of honey. Using a stirring stick, Leila poured the honey into the waterskin. The honey would give him the necessary nutrients his body needed to fight off the fever, and help to hydrate him. She then pulled out a single lemon, for she often kept one in her kit for sailors who got scurvy. Veteran sailors knew better than to not eat their fruits, but younger ones were dumb and stubborn. She pulled out her mortar and pestle and set it on the table. She then began scraping away the peel of the lemon, exposing the little sections of fruit within. She split these up, pulling any and all seeds she found out, and depositing them on the table. She put the fruit sections in the mortar, and began crushing and juicing it with her pestle. After getting as much juice as she could get out, she poured it into her waterskin, keeping the flesh from joining it. She then pulled a small pouch of a red powder from her kit. Cayenne. It treated a lot of things, but fever was the main purpose. She sprinkled a few pinches into the waterskin, then sealed it up. She shook it vigorously to let it all get properly mixed, then moved over to the man. She raised his head, aided by his pillows, and brought the skin to his lips. She slowly, very slowly, poured some into his mouth, just a trickle, just enough to leak down the back of his throat. She gave him a copious amount, knowing he'd need as much as possible. And this was just the initial treatment, she had several other things to get him out of the woods.

[Paragon]

"Not that I am aware of. But I wonder if whatever blighted this city is still lingering?" The woman was initially surprised at Leila's forthcoming, but her face gradually shifted to a slight smile. It seemed she was going to help the man, whatever her personal thoughts on this situation. "My name is Miranda," she said quietly, before curtseying and leaving the room temporarily to seek out the rags in question. Leila was left alone and busied herself with herbs and salves and honey, all designed to aid in the recovering process. It seemed she would cover all bases to try and heal the bedridden man. Just as she finished up her concoctions, the man stirred. He was not fully awake, groggy and confused, but he muttered words under his breath. A sheen of sweat shimmered on his face as he turned a little. "Soon... Not much longer... Sentinel. Zeltiva." Then he seemed to collapsed back into his fevered dreams. Just as he stopped talking, Miranda came back into the room with all that Leila had asked her to bring. "Did... Did he say something?" she asked. This time, her smile did not return. She stared into Leila's eyes, looking for truth.

[Leila]

Leila at least had a name to one of them. Not that it really gave her much information, or mattered. She mentioned the Blight that had passed through, but Leila wasn't so sure. Most of the citizens that had that had either recovered mostly or perished, at least as far as she'd heard. Leila watched the woman go, and the man began to stir, shortly after drinking her treatment. In his daze, he spoke, words that meant nothing to Leila, other than the name Zeltiva. She'd never even heard of a Sentinel before, not honestly sure what that was. The word sounded like a monument or statue or something. Miranda returned with the cold rags, and Leila placed one on his brow. She then pulled back the covers, as the woman began to speak to her again. Leila looked up at the woman, a grim look and a hard stare finding the poor herbalist. Leila, ever the truthspeaker, "He didn't say much. Something about a Sentinel and Zeltiva. Not much longer. Didn't make a lick of sense to me. Is the Sentinel a monument or statue or something?" Leila then resumed her process, and pulled down the man's breeches, keeping his dignity by leaving his undergarments in their place. She pulled the pants off, then put the cold rags on his inner thighs. Leila then took this time to begin searching his person for any wounds, just to make sure. "How long has he had this fever?" Leila, having given the man the nutrients he needed, turned back to her kit. She now needed to make him an aid in the fight against the fever. She began pulling out several pouches. The first contained a grey-brown powder, the crushed bark of a white willow. The second contained the green powder of crushed coneflower leaves. The third and final powder was also a dark green and had quite the pungent smell to it, peppermint leaves. The white willow would help treat the fever, but would also give him slight stomach pain. The peppermint was added in to counter that particular side effect and would also aid in the process. Coneflower though was the most powerful herb in the bunch, being the strongest fever fighter Leila knew of. Her waterskin of nutrients was still half full, so she poured several pinches of each powder in, and shook it vigorously. She wouldn't give it to him yet, she needed to wait a few chimes for his stomach to settle from the acidic mixture earlier. She didn't want him to choke on his own vomit.