|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 7:27 pm
 It was not the most pleasent of feelings. Then again, only a sadist would enjoy being hurt. Or was that a masochist? Ryn believed it was the latter.
He was not dying, and for that reason he took his time making his way to the temple. As well as his time searching for someone that could direct him to the apprentices. Ryn was not about to pay full price to have himself healed up completely. He wanted to save as much coin as he could. It would completely defeat the purpose of accepting the challenge and winning if he lost all of his new gold on healing himself up.
Ryn gave his head a shake to get the long white hair with it's crimson streaks out of his face. He turned another corner, and glanced down the hall critically. Of course, if he died it would not serve him any better. Dieing here meant his body most likely would be put to use in another fashion that he did not wish to think about. Ryn turned into a doorway and looked around with his amber eyes. "Hello?" He called, his voice rather mello and calm for someone who had a large open gash running from shoulder to elbow of his right arm.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 7:49 pm
 This current spellbook was about as useless in her personal quest as the last, and Rusayla regretfully put it aside. She was fast exhausting the temple library and would have to start frequenting the market again. Mages and the more advanced students usually got first claim on the books, but maybe she would get lucky.
She was about to start in on another book in her fast diminishing repetoire when she felt the presence of another drow, helped in no small amount by the fact that he announced his entrance. "Trained healers are in another wing. Would you like directions before you collapse?" So long without any results was really beginning to wear on her temper, and sarcasm was a rather safe way of venting her frustration.
She opened the book and began reading, believing the injured drow would stagger off on his own.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 8:17 pm
Ryn's mood, sadly, was lacking in the way of patcience. When he was exhsuted, or in this case wounded painfully, he oft forgot to curb his tongue when speaking to a female. For this reason he did not stay in a city too long, as he felt he always managed to offend someone there.
"Were I looking for a trained Healer then I would have found one by now." He replied curtly. "It's my arm that is hurt, Not my eyes or my head."
And those eyes now tuned to search the room with dismay to see she was the only one present. "Are there no other apprentices about? I only need the wound closed, nothing more."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 8:45 pm
Rusayla smiled faintly at Ryn's barbed comment; it was rare for someone to return her sarcasm, and to her surprise she found herself enjoying it. However, she had carefully schooled her face into a polite mask before turning around to face him.
He was by appearance a warrior, most likely an apprentice, given the lack of intricacy to his armor. She was somewhat surpised at the presence of tatoos, but managed to conceal it. But then, she noted something else and one brow slowly arched incredulously. "Are your eyes naturally yellow?" Normally it would signal some sort of sickness, but best to be sure.
His next comment, however, banished all thought of his eyes. "No," she replied coldly. "I am more than cabaple of closing such a paltry wound as that," and at this she gestured disdainfully at his arm. Everyone else was off shirking, or practicing, or something, but what was certain is she was the only one inside and reading. If this male had a problem with her tending his wound, he could bleed to death on the temple steps for lack of bandages for all she cared.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 9:03 pm
Well...that was...a rareity... Ryn found himself sielnce rather effectivetly when the female asked him about his eyes. Was his eyes normally this color? Well... if she had asked if he had been born with yellow eyes he certainly would have told her now. However, due to his Matrons determination for him to learn Necromancy...
"Yes. My eyes are normally the color you see them to be..." His response lacked the cut of his prior comments, and he was quick to speak when she appeared to be offended by his question reguarding other.
"If it is such the case then could I purchase your services to have it tended to? I seem to be bleeding all over the floor...." His head tilted slightly, to reguard to puddle of blood that was slowly growing drip by drip."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 9:40 pm
Rusayla noted skeptically that he hadn't really answered her question, but she sighed and motioned him to a chair when her attention was drawn to the blood staining the floor. "If you wish," she replied neutrally, pulling her satchel over and rummaging through it for a few select objects.
"Would you prefer the price be discussed now or after I fix your arm?" she inquired, retrieving a roll of bandages and a jar of salve. She was only asking to be polite though, they would discuss it first. It'd be rather awkward if she finished healing his arm and discovered he couldn't pay her. It had happened to one of her classmates before; she had been so angry that she had pulled out her dagger and reopened the customer's wound. Such acts tended to be bad for return business, so Rusayla was trying to avoid making the same mistakes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 21, 2008 10:05 pm
Ryn crossed to the chair and lowered himself into it. Sitting back, he turned so his wounded arm was positioned close to the female healer. He knew that he should be a bit more civil. As she was the only healer present she could have refused him after his rudeness. Then he would have had to seek out a trained healer, which he obviously was attempting not to do. Besides...the trained healers tended to be priestessess that had completed their training, and Ryn often got chills whenever he was around one of them. As if he expected them at any second to look upon him and simply know that he was not the subserviant Llothite worshipper he was pretending to be. Or even worse yet, that he was fair game. He truely despised females of that sort...
Ryn kept his eyes away from this female now, for he felt discomfort looking at her after her observation of his eyes. Instead he looked at the floor before him. "It would only be wise to discuss the price before the services. Will five silver be acceptable? The would is not lethal. It is not poisoned, and it is in a strait cut. I've cleaned it a bit prior to coming here, but I am incapable of tending it myself. Besides, I would prefer to make the scar as thin as possible."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 7:01 pm
Rusayla grasped Ryn's wrist, turning his arm slightly to get a better look at the injury. While not immediately lethal, the resultant blood loss could become so, given enough time. She lightly traced the edges of the wound with her free hand, studying it. It appeared to be a straight out slice wound, fairly fresh, and almost certainly not poisoned as the effects would have begun to show by now.
"Minimal scarring is eight silver," she offered, releasing his arm and reaching for her satchel again. Customers picky about scarring required a different salve then usual . . . that, or stitches. As she was rather bad at sewing, the salve it was. Hopefully this particular concoction had made the limited space of her satchel, as she wasn't comfortable leaving the male in the room or coming with her while she fetched it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 7:12 pm
He was compliant wnough as she inspected the wound. It would not have served him if he had fussed over every touch and twist he had to endure while she inspected the wound. There was no way he could expect to be magically healed without some form of contact. For that he'd have needed to go to the trained healers.
Ryn's head tilted slightly when the healer named her price. He had asked for five, she countered with eight. This was why he preferred to come to an apprentice. It was far easier to deal with them. He was certain a full out gold would have been the demand from another. "That is an acceptable price. Eight silver. How long will the mending take? I need to know when I will be able to use my arm again without the danger of opening the wound and risk making a larger scar then I'd care to have."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 8:13 pm
"The actual mending? About five minutes," Rusayla replied absently, searching through her satchel. Including rinsing the salve and wrapping the bandages, the most it would take was ten, but usually she was much faster.
"However, you shouldn't use your arm for an additional three days without risking reopening the wound," she continued, yanking out her harp case and setting it gently on the adjacent table. That was why she wasn't quite comfortable asking for a standard price yet; a trained healer would assure him the use of his arm almost immediately.
Without her harp taking up half her satchel, the special salve was much easier to find, and she placed it carefully next to the bandages, replacing her regular salve back in the satchel. "Do try not to get into any fights, hmm?" she quipped, gently dropping her satchel to the floor before turning to face Ryn again.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 8:39 pm
Ryn had no complaints about the time it would take for the wound to heal...but there was a distinct frown upon his lips when he was told to wait three days. Not that he would complain. He'd only gain a lecturing he was certain. Instead he turned his eyes to watch the healer ng through her bag. It was with muted surprise that he watched the harp being pulled out.
His amber eyes flickered back to the female, and he waited until it was that she finished taking what she needed from her bag. The beginings of a smile touched his lips at her suggestion that he avoid fights. "Hmm, no fighting for three days? I best find a tomb and lie down in it for three days then if I am going to attempt and manage this. I believe only the dead are spared the random battle...and even then then that is questionable."
His head tilted slightly towards the harp still present on the table. "Not a typical healers tool." He commented in a bit more of a conversational mood then he normally was.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 23, 2008 9:37 pm
Rusayla hid a smile, finding his humor refreshing. "I'm sure I could find someone to arrange your funeral, if it would help," she replied, opening the salve jar. "Special arrangements would have to be taken, of course, as you wouldn't want a Necromancer, or anyone else for that matter, taking advantage of your deceased state. I believe I could even manage to look regretful," she continued calmly, delicately sniffing the opened jar.
"Of course, I'd need a name to carve on your tomb," she finished, switching the salve for the bandages. She stared thoughtfully at his injury and began measuring out a bandage length before cutting it with her dagger. With that task finished, she followed his gaze to her harp, pausing thoughtfully as she considered his statement.
"No, I don't suppose it is," she said slowly, drumming her fingers on the case. "My original instructor told me I needed to learn how to play before he would teach me. I practiced for a few weeks before Mother finally wondered what I was doing and lectured on going through so much trouble for a mere male," she explained, shrugging. "However, I recently had cause to doubt the wisdom of quitting, so I'm experimenting."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 24, 2008 6:45 pm
"How kind you are Priestess." Ryn chided her as he watched her at her task. She seemed to be knowledgeable enough. Obviously she had been practicing long enough to be more efficient then most novices. "The lack of a necromancer would be exceptionally appreciated. I am none too fond of their ilk." His lips again were touched with a trace of humor at her gentle joking.
"Look regretful? But we've barely met. I'm certain my dashing good looks are not enough to have smitten you yet. Then again I might be underestimating my rougish handsomness..." Ryn tilted his chin up and placed the hand of his unwounded arm on his chin in a false pose of 'arrogant beauty'. He quickly dropped the pose though, as she would ask for his name without really asking him.
"Ryn. My name is Ryn." He paused then, wincing only slightly from her administrations. His eyes returned then to the present harp and he considered her words. While she worked he mused to himself. "Nimble fingers. I think...the purpose behind learning a instrument is to help you with dexterity. It makes your fingers more likely to be skilled with it comes to tending to delicate wounds. I believe this mere male was attempting to give you a skill without making it seem like extra instruction."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Nov 24, 2008 8:06 pm
Rusayla wondered for a moment at the male's aversion to necromancers, but not overmuch, as they were usually rather disturbing, especially considering their line of work. She disguised the rolling of her eyes at his next comment by folding the cut off bandage length neatly and placing it next to the salve jar, which she proceeded to stir gently with one of her fingers.
"Not to impugn your high opinion of yourself, but since it would of course have been I who discovered your dead body, I will be overcome with regret that I had not been just a moment earlier, just that much more trained," she trailed off, pausing for a moment before continuing, smiling. "And thus unable to demand the price of resurrection."
Taking note of his name, she paused in her stirring to consider his suggestion concerning her harp. "I hadn't thought of it that way," she replied slowly, picking up the jar and thrusting it at Ryn's uninjured arm. "Hold this. Did you know music can be used to enhance the effects of magic?" she inquired, grasping his wrist with her now free hand while dabbing the salve onto the slice wound.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 25, 2008 3:49 pm
"Ah. Shot down. How like a female." Ryn's humor seemed to be warming up little by little. Though he spoke with a sullen tone, his lips and even his eyes betrayed a amused sense of enjoyment in the little quips they had exchanged thus far. "And how like a Healer." He continued, that small smile widening enough to break the part of his lips into a more fond smile.
He found the jar thrust into his good hand moments later. Gripping it, he looked into it and gave it a small curious sniff. "I was unaware that music had other applications aside from the physical. Personally I would not mind learning how to play the flute. It could be useful disrupting the attacks of creatures that rely on sonar. Hmm.. I suppose your harp there could do the same." Ryn paused, his smile fading to a grimance as she turned his wrist and as a effect caused his wound to pull. Of course, feeling her dabbing the wound was no less unpleasent. "My my Priestess. What a gentle touch you have."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
