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 Posted: Mon Jun 15, 2015 7:48 am
This Quest is for Incanthis who is striving to become a Healer.
 OOC
||. The quest prompt must be answered with a 2000 word reply (can be more).
||. Respond to the prompt given with an adventure of your own creation as long as it meets the requirements of the specific tasks.
||. NPCs may be used as long as they advance the quest in an interesting manner.
||. You cannot include any playable characters other than the quest taker.
||. Your responses will be graded with a Pass or Fail. Those who fail will have to continue with assistance from the staff.
||. Questions about quests can be asked here.
IC
Incathis watched as a wounded guard was brought into the house. It was hard to tell, but it looked like the wound had already been there for at least a day, the edges already festering. What would have caused this man to resist finding treatment for so long?
It was clear that he had failed at the job he had been sent out to do, and whether it was shame or fear, the man didn't want Muata to know. Unable to keep himself standing any longer, the other guards had brought him to Muata for permission to find a healer for the man. Muata refused. If the guard had done the job right the first time, he wouldn't have the wound. This would serve as his punishment.
Quest Tasks
||. The quest should begin with the guard being brought to the house.
||. Muata will order Incanthis not to help the man; it is his punishment for a failed job.
||. Incathis knows he can help this man, and can already see that without treatment the guard will likely die.
||. Incathis must decide whether to obey his "master" and ignore the man's needs or he can help the man.
||. The quest should end with his decision and the consequences to his decision.
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2015 10:06 pm
Part One: Tiren's Injury & Muata's Orders
There were no major jobs that the members of the group, individually or as a whole, had gone on in some time. Those that had gone out were given simple 'get in, get out, get paid' sorts of jobs and little more. It was because of that reason that Incanthis really wasn't all that worried about those who had gone out. There was that chance of someone getting bumps and bruises, even needing stitches, but he wasn't really expecting much more to come through the door. Not when they were the sort of job that the group went on rather often enough that they seemed almost mundane to Incanthis. It was only when some of the others came inside though that he knew something was wrong, the way that one of them was being helped in, his weight mostly on one of the others that his complacent attitude.
The other problems soon became apparent when he saw the sweat that the man was drenched in, the look of pain on his face, and the smell... the smell clinging to him was terrible. It was a scent that reminded Incanthis of rotting meat, which was a very bad sign. That scent could only mean that the wound had already turned sour. For a wound to go bad, especially that bad, he must have had it for some time. Why hadn't he come here sooner? As if right after he'd gotten injured? Incanthis could have seen to whatever it was easily enough and he wouldn't have ended up in such a state. What could have caused him to stay away? Had he thought for some reason that he would be able to take care of it himself? That was just foolishness! Incanthis was here to take care of these things so he should have come to him!
Hurrying over to the men that were helping their fellow warrior into the house he said, "Tiren? What happened? Where are you wounded? Let me see!" His words came out in a rush. He wanted to see the wound even though, at the same time, he really didn't. The smell of the wound alone was enough to tell him that it wasn't something he wanted to see, might even be something that was above and beyond what he could do himself. At the same time he had to do this. A healer couldn't show any sort of fear, they couldn't show any disgust, they had to be the calm in the middle of the storm or so his mother had always told him. There were always situations that weren't ideal, this was going to be one of them, and he had to look the wound over no matter what it might have become.
The others helped Tiren to sit down and the man, in much pain as he did so, unwrapped the wound on his forearm. It was something that, between the looks of it and the scent of it made Incanthis's stomach roll a bit. The edges of the wound were looking very sickly, having already gone bad. It was hard to tell at first, due to the swelling and the awful colors, what the wound had been but after a bit of inspection he could see it, "A bite? Was it a janarim?" He asked, hovering over the wound for a moment. They chewed on all manner of things that he didn't want to think about, had all manner of germs in their mouths, all of which were festering in this wound. The wound had not only gone bad but it had caused a fever as well, if they didn't do something soon then he wasn't going to make it. As it was he wasn't even sure if they were going to be able to save the arm given how far the infection had spread. What was more important though, a life or an arm?
"It will be alright, Tiren, we just need to get you patched up is all." Provided so that they tried to get things done sooner then later at least. Were they to wait too long then there was a chance that Tiren was going to lose his life along with his arm. It was something that he didn't want to see happen. Turning on his heel he took a couple steps forward when he found himself frozen in place upon spotting Muata coming down the hall toward the group of them.
After a moment of taking in the situation Muata said, "You've been missing for a while, Tiren, and you show up in that condition. Let me guess, you failed at the job you were sent on?" He gave a shake of his head before he turned to look at Incanthis, giving him a sharp stare, "You probably didn't even bring back the goods, did you? Now you want us to waste further money on treatment for wounds you got due to your incompetence? I don't think so, Tiren. You can go and figure it out on your own." The man said, waving at the wounded, feverish man in a dismissive manner.
It was something that had everyone falling into wide eyed shock, as though none of them could really believe that Muata would say such a thing. The man was difficult to deal with at times but to be so harsh with a member of his group, one that wasn't Incanthis at least, was unprecedented. It was something that had Incanthis turning to him, "Master... ahh... Lord Muata, we have to see to his injury! If we don't his infection, his fever, they'll kill him." He said in a hushed tone of voice, not wanting to say the words too loud, not wanting Tiren to hear them. Surely Muata wouldn't just sentence one of his men to death over a failed job? No failed job could be that important!
Muata turned to look at Incanthis, his eyes narrowing, "You won't fight me on this Incanthis. After all I have done for you, after forgiving you for running off, you owe me many times over. You will obey my orders, leave Tiren to his fate, and get back to the other work I am sure that you have." He said in a tone of voice that left no room for argument. With that the man turned to the others, "Toss him in the spare room, he can consider his poor choices for what time he has left." With that Muata headed out of the room, leaving his men to do as he was told, and left Incanthis standing there in shocked, stilled silence, mind whirling even as his body seemingly refused to move despite his attempts to make it do so.
(( Word Count: 1118 ))
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2015 11:03 pm
Part Two: Incanthis's Resolve
The room that Tiren was left alone in, the room that was normally intended for surgery and not for punishment, was closed up. The door was locked from the outside though it wasn't a lock that required a key to get into it. It was just a slide bolt lock, one that kept the guard in, but allowed for others to get in, provided they wanted to. The others, while protesting Tiren's treatment, mostly amongst themselves, were back in the main room. Incanthis however was sitting on the floor in the hallway, back to the wall, starring at the door. He wanted to help, but he wasn't supposed to help, had been told not to help. No, he was supposed to just sit by and just let Tiren die, something that was so far off from what he should be doing as a healer. His job was to save others, not to just let them die. This was cruel, the man had a fever and a bad arm, one that was killing him even as Incanthis sat there doing nothing. He should do something, anything, but he was doing absolutely nothing and he hated himself for it.
"All your big talk about wanting to be a healer like your mother and it turns out your nothing like her. Just some whelp licking the boots of some worthless Oban." A voice whispered to him, that of his father Issao, a voice that sent chills through him, "I always knew you were the most worthless of my get, but to think that you were this pathetic? I should have left you in the woods for the predators when you were born. At least then you'd of been useful in some capacity."
Jerking his head from side to side he almost expected to see the man standing there, looming over him, giving him that look that he had so often gotten. Issao had never seen Incanthis as his son, at least he hadn't seen him as the son he wanted. Those who were stronger, those like Istanell, that was what Issao wanted of his sons. For Incanthis to decide to follow in their mother's footsteps, for him want to become a healer, it had been a great disappointment. How often had he heard that he was a waste of Issao's blood? He would never be anything in Issao's eyes, but here he was not even able to reach the goal he'd set for himself. He was failing even at being that.
His father would have been certain to mock him for his repeated failures, but Incanthis wondered if even his mother would be disappointed in the way that he was just sitting here letting Tiren die in such a miserable way. The man was in pain, he was sick, and suffering, he was doing nothing but letting him die a death that even a beast shouldn't have to endure, and why? Just because Muata had told him not to help. Due to those words alone he was going to sit back idly and allow such a thing to happen. Was he so weak? Was he that much of a coward? Was his father right about him all along? Surely by now he'd paid his debt to Muata, surely by now he had made up for running away? Surely by now they must have a clean slate between them, meaning that Incanthis shouldn't just be sitting here. He should be doing something!
"To act would involve having a spine, something you never had. You stood back playing at being your mother's replacement while your brothers actually tried to make something of themselves. You won't do anything, you'll just sit there like the beaten, fang less witu that you are, and that guy will die." Issao's voice mocked him, "It just proves that you were never meant to be a healer, you have no resolve, no spine. It's just as I always thought, you're no son of mine... and to think people thought I was the cruel one."
Cruel? He was just that, he was leaving Tiren to not only suffer a lingering and painful death, but he was leaving him to do so alone. Incanthis knew what was going to happen, knew it could take some time, and yet he did nothing. He really was a spineless coward, a cruel one, and one that didn't even deserve to be a healer if he allowed such a thing. If he didn't put aside his fear, if he didn't resign himself to the fact that he was going to end up in a lot of trouble with Muata, then he wouldn't be able to do something. While Incanthis felt that things between them should be square he knew Muata wouldn't see it that way, he'd still feel that he was in his debt, that he still owed him, and if Incanthis went against his orders he'd be punished. It was merely a question of how severely and in what manner.
Was his own health more important then that of those around him? Should he abandon Tiren because he didn't want to be harmed himself? What was a little more pain when he'd already felt enough of it in the past? He wasn't as weak as he was acting, he wasn't a coward, and he wasn't spineless. He was just struggling was all. To go against anyone who held true power was a difficult thing, it had taken everything for him to stand against his father's wishes, to decide to become a healer instead of another warrior, and it would be as difficult to stand against Muata. The man had taken him away from his previous masters, had given him purpose, given him a place when his brothers left him behind in Oba, he owed him a lot. It was something that was between the two of them though, not something that involved Tiren's life. Whatever Tiren had failed to do on his last job, whatever goods he'd lost, it wasn't worth his life.
Pushing himself up to his feet Incanthis drew in a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. He was shaking all over at the mere idea of defying Muata. It wouldn't go well for him but if he was able to save Tiren then it would be worth it, right? The good of others was important, it should come before his own welfare, a healer wasn't meant to be a selfish person, he was meant to protect and care for others. If he suffered punishment then so be it he thought to himself, glancing down the hallway before he started across it and into the room. Once inside he closed the door behind himself, dragging a chair over to bar it closed. The others, Muata included, would realizing he was missing and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where he was. Best that he bought himself all the time that he could.
Turning his attention to Tiren, who was sitting on the bed, looking quite the mess, he said, "We should see to that arm. I will do all that I can, Tiren, but I can offer no promises that it's something I can save. I need to know now if you value your arm over your life." He said as he went to gather his supplies from around the room. He wished that he could get some help from any of the others but knew he wouldn't be able to ask them to defy Muata as well. This was on him and him alone, he wouldn't drag the others into his temporary rebellion. Once he got his answer from Tiren he nodded, setting to work, doing all that he could to save the man.
(( Word Count: 1290 ))
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 8:48 am
Part Three: A Healer's Touch
It had been Deminis, not Muata, that seemed to realize something was amiss first. Instead of going to alert the man though he'd instead called through the door in a hushed tone that he'd try to buy Incanthis a bit of time. It had been through locking the door from the outside, to make it seem as though nothing were amiss, that he had hoped to help. While that took away any chance that Incanthis had for a possible escape after taking care of Tiren he decided that it was worth it, even if it bought him just a bit of extra time that didn't involve Muata knowing where he was.
He wasn't sure how much time it actually got him, enough so that he was able to rid Tiren of the worst of the flesh that had no chance of being salvaged. Instead they would need to take care of the wound, keep it clean, and with enough time and luck it should heal over. The man would have an awful scar but he should have function of the arm, though to what degree Incanthis couldn't really say. How he wished he was more like his mother, how he wished he had a fraction of her power and know how, then he might have been able to do even more for Tiren. He had done his best and his best would have to be enough.
He was just getting to the point where he was cleaning the wound thoroughly with what water he had stored in the room when it got suspiciously quiet outside the room. He could almost see it, someone starring at the door from the other side. Incanthis lifted a hand, placing his lifted index finger against his lips to indicate to Tiren to stay quiet as his work continued. He was concentrating on the shape the wound was in when he heard the lock sliding open, followed by the creaking sound of the door knob turning. As planned, when the door tried to open, the chair under the know refused to give. The moment the one on the other side of the door seemed to realize that the door was jammed closed things got almost instantly heated.
Incanthis turned back to the task at hand even as Muata raged at him, telling him all the various things that he should do, the main one being to 'open the door'. Given that was the very last thing he wanted to do at the moment, at least until he was done with Tiren, it was an order he ignored. Ignoring Muata wasn't easy, in fact it actually made him more shaky and queasy then even dealing with the rancid wound did. It took everything he had to keep himself from shaking too hard to even be able to continue. He'd already done the difficult part, that being sneaking in here and barring the door, so all he had to do now was keep his resolve up. He could do this.
"Ive cleaned up your wound the best that I could given the circumstances, the dead flesh has been removed, and I am going to smear some salve on it that should help with the infection to a degree." He explained to Tiren before looking up at him, "From here you are going to have to get yourself another healer, a more qualified one. I am not sure if what I did was enough to save the arm, I am not sure if anyone without magical abilities will be able to." He explained as he reach out for the earthen jar that held an herbal mix. He got out a generous dollop and smeared it onto the wound in a thick coat, "I'm sorry that your arm ended up like, that you were too scared to come to me earlier." He murmured, "And I am sorry I was too scared to act for a time."
Tiren shook his head, "You came here to help me, that's all that matters." He said, his voice a bit shaky, his adrenaline running high and his fever still a problem.
He'd rather take care of the man himself, or even invite another healer in to help aid him where this wound was concerned since it was more then he was used to dealing with. It was what he wanted but it wasn't what was going to happen. No, the moment he opened the door Muata was going to come through it. He turned to look at the door, to Tiren, then back again, "The moment I open the door I feel it will be a bit like a war beast is invading the room. His eyes are going to be on me so I ask that you slip out while he's yelling at me, alright? Promise me you will." There was a long moment of dead silence where all the two of them could hear was Muata's voice and the banging on the door before Tiren reluctantly agreed.
"Good, Deminis might help you along, he helped earlier after all, so look for him." He murmured, reaching out to get a towel to wipe his hands on before motioning to Tiren to get up. The man moved to stand with his back against the wall beside the door as Incanthis moved the chair that was blocking it. Just as he predicted the door came bursting open and the man was instantly stalking toward Incanthis. The healer backed up, a combination of true fear flowing through him along with him wanting to lead Muata away from the door. He saw Tiren slip out, as per Incanthis's suggestion, before all he could see was a very angry Muata looming over him...
(( Word Count: 952 ))
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 9:12 am
Part Four: Inca's Punishment
There really was no way that he was going to get away with completely ignoring Muata's orders, not by a long shot. Add in the fact that he'd helped Tiren escape and it had only made it that much worse. Muata wasn't the sort of man that was quick to forgive what he saw purely and simply as betrayal. No, far from it, instead Incanthis had pay for his betrayal, for the way that he ignored simple orders, the way that he had given his loyalty to someone that wasn't Muata. It wasn't as though Incanthis had any feelings for Tiren save for those between a healer and their patient, but Muata sudden saw them where they didn't exist. Anger tended to make people stupid, suspicious, and violent,and Muata was no exception.
It was why Incanthis, in a rather rough shape came to in his room, in a position that he hadn't been in since he'd run away looking for his brothers. Sitting up slowly, one hand on his throbbing head, unable to see through one eye due to swelling, he heard a too familiar jingling sound. Looking down he saw a shackle around his ankle, the one that was meant to keep him from running away so long ago. Now it seemed to represent Muata's hold on him, that his orders were absolute, and that Incanthis shouldn't have gone against them. Looking toward the door, which he couldn't reach in the first place, he had a sneaking suspicion that it was likely locked up at the moment. It was a second wall of defense to keep Incanthis inside of his room while he was 'taught a lesson'.
Laying back on the bed carefully he found himself starring up at the ceiling, debating his next move. It was going to be hard to get himself out of his shackle, let alone of of the room, and if he did, then what? Years of being under Muata's thumb told him that even if he were to escape that he should just behave himself, stay at home, try to win the man's trust again so that he'd once more be able to move around on his own. Another thought was that he shouldn't bother, that he should run away for real this time. He couldn't go to his brothers though, didn't want to drag them into his problems, even though there was a part of him that just wanted to run crying to Istanell. It was embarrassing though, that someone his age could get in this badly over his head. Would his brother even want to help him at this point? Would he want to get into the middle of a mess of Incanthis's making? He couldn't say he wanted that, didn't want to risk Istanell getting in a fight against Muata. He didn't want his big brother hurt on his account.
Where to run to then? Not to Kalli, he didn't want her mixed up in this, what about Abie? No, no, he'd just met him and the last thing he wanted was to bring that sort of hell down onto an innocent young man who just wanted Incanthis's help with shopping. He'd have to set out on his own and, if he admitted it to himself, it was a terrifying idea. Had he ever been alone in his entire life? Even though his father hadn't really cared for him the man had kept him safe when he was little, from there he had the protection of the family group, his various masters after that ending with Muata. He'd never had to really take care of himself but it was a distinct possibility if he wanted to avoid dragging others into his mess.
Something to consider when he was back on his feet and was actually able to make an attempt at escape. For the moment he was too tired and hurting too much to be able to do anything. Once he was feeling better he would attempt to dig himself out of the mess that he gotten himself buried in he decided as his thoughts started to get a bit bleary from a need to rest. As he started to doze off he would have swore he could feel the cool hand of his mother resting on his forehead, her reassuring voice soothing him to sleep. Things would be alright, he just had to be strong, words that helped to give him more restful sleep, the sort he'd need to get back onto his feet again.
(( Word Count: 754 ))
(( Total Word Count: 4114 ))
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2015 9:15 am
Alright! I think I am all ready for this one to be looked over by the staff! This should lead into all manner of good story for Incan. ^_^ *can't wait to get to work on stuff* <3
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2015 6:30 am
Class Quest Result
Pass!
Incanthis has passed and received a rank of Healer!
Congratulations Incanthis!
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