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Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Nov 16, 2010 23:58:10 GMT -5
The man took the hand, smiling at the foreign gesture, though they were familiar with it, and shook it firmly. "I am, and I would be happy to talk to you about it. Take a seat; we can talk over dinner. This is my first real meal today, so that's the rush."
He sat down, as did the family, even the sick little Madiew. His father put his wrist to the boy's head and grinned. ("Fever's gone. You'll be okay by tomorrow.") He wiped his wrist afterward with a strange cloth gotten from his bag and set to eating.
"So this disease, tell me about it. As detailed as you can. You seem healthy enough, besides what a few lost days of sleep can do to you, so I guess you have a list of symptoms?" Apparently he had no problem talking shop while eating, still friendly but now more serious. The rest of the family also seemed quite unconcerned by it.
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Nov 17, 2010 0:13:20 GMT -5
"Nobody gets it the same way, you see." he started, explaining that bit first as it was one of the more bothersome pieces to the whole puzzle, "It treats everyone differently yet kills them all the same. Some people get growths of bone or flesh... any number of possibilities, I even saw someone start to grow hair in a patch on their shoulder once... and then with some people it takes away from them... limbs, skin, almost anything it can take. I'm sorry, but it's hard to be detailed with a disease who's patterns and manner of working seems to be so vague. People are saying it's being caused by the khartash." he shook his head, "Over a grudge from the beginning of the Land War, but they're too short lived to carry such a thing for so long. It can't be magic, it's something else. It acts like the Vachna." he finished his thought, not touching his food as he spoke, "Some people's throats begin smelling of rot days before they die and it can sweep through one house in a week and at the same time spend months whittling at their neighbor. I don't know what there is that's necessarily helpful to you... but perhaps you've seen it before? You're a healer... you know lots of illnesses. Surely one wouldn't be too unlikely." he got quiet as doubt entered his voice and his eyes rested on the soup.
It could spend days on a family... and it could spend months on a cleric woman... only so close to swearing away speech. It could steal her away piece by piece. This was why he didn't like talking about the plague, the memory was like a bitter phantom of poison on his tongue and it felt like if he lingered to much on it's flavor it might regain it's potency.
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Post by Arual on Nov 17, 2010 0:19:46 GMT -5
Raegan had eaten his fill, silent, but listening intently. He just seemed like something was on his mind, something heavy. "Thank you very much, it was delicious." he said. "If it's alright, I'd like to step outside." He didn't know the manners and the ways of these people, otherwise he wouldn't have had to ask the way he did. Whitte's skin color was paler than it had been earlier.
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Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Nov 17, 2010 16:05:39 GMT -5
"I've never seen a foreigner take so quickly to eel," the woman admitted, smiling, though she seemed to realize it was not a delicate stomach that made Whitte excuse himself. "Please, you may." The family had been very solemn at this description, and the father shook his head.
"Things like that we don't see down here too often. It's a small village, and my patients come from other small villages. Sicknesses like that just don't happen. I'd assume maybe some kind of parasite, jerking around with instructions like nine-legged frogs, but people aren't frogs... I don't know what could do that to a human. If you go to the city, and I can give you some names, you'll find Witch-Doctors a lot more knowledgeable than a school-less Worker of Seals. They are some of the best healers in the world. If anyone can help you, they can."
"It's a harsh illness you speak of, Se-Dodger. We hope you run into some good luck. You seem to deserve it," said Na-Eri.
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Post by Arual on Nov 17, 2010 16:31:35 GMT -5
Whitte left, and had gone outside for air. He may have eaten, maybe slept some, but his head still felt light. His eyes became distant as he sat to a farther side of the house. "Nyakak si tazi situatsiya izglezhda vse po mnogo po-slozhno." he muttered softly to himself, running both his hands through his hair. ("Somehow this situation seems to be getting much more complicated.")
In his head, he could hear the laughter of Latanni and Jaeel, running around the outside, their attempt to help their mother out a failure. The air wasn't as thick here, not like it was in the heavily swampy areas they trudged through. But still, he felt a little off....and it wasn't the food. He saw home.......he missed it. It'd been over a year since he'd actually gone through the door and stayed inside for more than an evening. Even those days have been so much more rare lately. O'Harrah was supposed to help! How the hell could he help if the old man wasn't even here! Not like he would even try to find him now, not at this point. Too dangerous. Wait. Wasn't Valleri supposed to be there when he got to town? Damn.
Whitte blew a puff of air out as he tried to let go of a concern that most likely wasn't even possible. Actually, a few. No, worry for his family wouldn't go away. The fact he was still alive now was amazing..........but O'Harrah wouldn't be happy when he finds out what happened. The deadline was getting close. Would he have it under control?
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Nov 17, 2010 19:34:27 GMT -5
"You don't have anything else?" It wasn't the most grateful of sentiments, but Dodger wanted to get all the help he could from any individual that seemed to be capable of doing so. He'd gone so far and gotten nothing... any little bit more assistance felt like a life saving grasp and he'd be damned if he didn't try to get everything he could. There had to be some sort of cure out there... something he could bring back and fix everything... so many lands had nothing to promise him and wordsmiths who could have helped refused to go into a hostile land which while not something he was unsympathetic towards, it was something that angered him. "Perhaps you could come with us? One of these witch-doctors... they might listen to you more than they would a foreigner." he didn't even hear the sympathy of the woman, rather he was focused entirely on this healer. If they'd accompany him to the city... then maybe they'd go back to Virisea with him... and then he'd see first hand what they were up against and maybe he could help. He'd have to try it. He'd try anything.
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Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Nov 17, 2010 21:50:17 GMT -5
The Worker looked thoughtful. "I would go a long way to help prevent a plague, but..." He looked at his family. "I will think about it tonight, and give you my answer in the morning. I think in the end, I will probably end up coming with you. But if not, you could always shave your head and put on a mask, no?" The last bit was obviously a joke, and he chuckled at the thought of it.
"But you should go find your friend and get a good long rest. No doubt they will be driving us hard tomorrow."
Outside, Devshiva had left as soon as he heard Whitte approaching the door, moving silently to the other side of the small house. The mask would not hide the strangeness of his eyes, which held an intense expression that could be discerned. Because unfortunately, the Lady walked with him, and he was alone. Whitte spoke a strange tongue. Devshiva was far-traveled, and he had not heard it before. But as for the conversation inside, he could hear all of that.
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Post by Arual on Nov 17, 2010 22:02:23 GMT -5
Whitte paused his thoughts, sensing the guard's presence very close by. Had he slipped that much? Did Devshiva know? Well, it didn't matter. If he did, he did. He shook his head. Well, unless Devshiva knew Bulgarian, his thoughts were at least safe. So were his words...for now. It was the only relief he had right now. "Maĭko, az se chuvstvam tolkova zagubeni. Tazi zemya ..... tezi mŭzhe, koito ni zaloven ...... neshto se chuvstva greshno. Az dori ne znam dali moga da napravya tova pŭtuvane, ostanalata chast ot pŭtya. Za posleden pŭt spakh v dŭlbok sŭn e v naĭ-dobriya predi sedmitsa. Kakvo da pravya?" he continued, though talking to himself now, it was more of a prayer. ("Mother, I feel so lost. This land.....these men who captured us......something feels wrong. I dont even know if I can make this journey the rest of the way through. The last time I slept in a deep sleep was at best a week ago. What do I do?")
The young man was still paler than his usual self, but his eyes had more focus, if nothing else.
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Nov 17, 2010 22:49:26 GMT -5
"Thank you!" he nearly laughed with excitement, as if he had just sworn that he would go... like his coming along was a promise that they would find a cure, "Thank you, thank you!" he stood up, not having eaten his food, and not really noticing either and caring was similarly gone. He extended his hand forward, palm up and he practically pulled the healer's hand atop his and held it there, his eyes alight, "Yes, I'll rest for tomorrow... we'll set out tomorrow... get this whole misunderstanding figured out and Taelir will return to Finarahad!" he gestured wildly in his excitement. He could have kissed this man, fortunately he didn't. Rather, he released the healer's hands, a massive grin on his face as he made his way out the door and began scouting for a suitable tree to spend the night in, marching in a determined fashion.
The story of Taelir was an old one in Virisea... a man cast out from his homeland of the hidden kingdom of Finarahad. The man had found a book of prophesy that chose it's reader... revealing text only to him and he had to leave, find a great power to rescue Finarahad and in his travels he went to place after place and destroyed enemies... liberated people but despite where he went to... what foes he defeated he couldn't find his champion after years and years of searching. He found his allies and he found his enemies... but nobody to strike down the evil descending on Finarahad until the book sent him back in his travels and he found them all assembled and with his assembled champions he returned home to vanquish the evil, Taelir leading them on their way. Dodger thought it was an appropriate allusion.
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Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Nov 17, 2010 23:54:22 GMT -5
"Hey!" rang out the Worker's voice, as the man went quickly to the door in pursuit. "The house two down has agreed to house you for the night. Perhaps you would appreciate beds!" he said, motioning to their left. There the house and bed waited, empty and waiting. The house's owners were out on a hunting trip, so they were more than happy to share what they weren't using.
Troubles, thought Devshiva, feeling a sense of tightness in the air. His breaths came more slowly, surpressed by the heaviness. What was she trying to tell him? Or maybe that hosue had simply stirred his embers into an unease. Eyes now deadpan, calm and dangerous, he left to find his own bed. Though he doubted tonight he would be able to stay in it for long. She was heavy on his shoulders tonight, and his breaths came tight.
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Post by Arual on Nov 18, 2010 10:03:03 GMT -5
When Whitte saw Dodger, heard the voices of his fellow captive and the hospitable father who lived in the inn like place, he stood up. "A bed sounds nice. Thank you very much, again, for your hospitality." the young archer said to the doctor before turning around and walked with Dodger.
"So, I take it he agreed to help you with your epidemic at home?" Whitte asked him, seeing it a bit obviously, but trying to make some small talk. He realized how impolite he had been to the other captive, and knew it was only right to make up for it and if nothing else, try to repair it.
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Nov 18, 2010 14:58:01 GMT -5
"It's a troublemaker who looks for a magi in among peasants." Dodger responded curtly, a sentiment similar to 'Mind your own business' in Virisea and he began heading towards the house where beds had been offered due to the absence of the regular tenant. To be honest, if this Whitte sought no companionship in him, as he had earlier then it was fine and the sudden change was something to suggest plotting and plotting would suggest reason for distrust if one was not privy to the other's plans. "Perhaps I will sleep tonight, you will sleep tonight, and tomorrow we continue with the earth underfoot and the sun overhead and no words in between us." he less than politely suggested, "You may keep to your silent musings and I can keep to my business as you seem to have liked to have set affairs and whatever unscrupulous dealings you might have devised... I want nothing of it." he shook his head. It wasn't his fault if this Whitte hadn't found what he was looking for, but Dodger had himself a healer now... which meant that he wasn't going to risk them by doing shady deals with some silent stranger.
Stranger. Not friends. And his business here was personal business he didn't want to divulge to strangers without good reason.
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Post by Arual on Nov 18, 2010 15:19:40 GMT -5
"If you insist. I was only trying to start a conversation." Whitte shrugged, seeing in Dodger's eyes he didn't intend to make friends anymore. He saw suspicion now, fiery suspicion. Fortunately, if Whitte could take the irony out of it all, it wasn't the suspicion that really would get him in trouble.
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Post by Ladd Russo of the Russo Family on Nov 18, 2010 21:39:09 GMT -5
Through the dark, silent village there stalked Devshiva, making rounds mostly like a stern watchman and just a little bit like an orphaned child trying to see glimpses of what family was. All the curtains had been tucked tightly into their doorframe and windowframe notches, so that bugs would have to find another home. In this way the small houses and occasional shops (more often than not the shop was also the house) stood like gravestones, disapproving and impenetrable. But also undeniably peaceful. They slept, these houses, and he did not. There was a lonely power to that, one he let fill him like a breath of morning air. Weariness hammered at the back of his head, but there was an itching that kept him awake, one he couldn't describe. Lareg's words of the night before needled him. No, not really his words. Everyone spoke those words, himself included. Rather, the fact that he was so nearly and neatly persuaded into killing two travelers, blameless and hardly a threat. No, in that situation it was the job of the city to decide, but he had still wanted the rushing release that murder gave him, more than he had cared about the reasons he was doing it. He was on that edge, and he knew it. Lareg could make such demands as a subordinate but he was expected to refuse them. He almost didn't last night. They would all take any excuse gladly, but had the time come when he had stopped looking even for excuses? And he could not honestly say that turning himself in was something he would do. Devshiva strolled to an empty dye storage vat and leaned against it, taking off his mask to stare at his knife.
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Post by Señor Sunday Friday on Nov 19, 2010 15:41:08 GMT -5
Dodger quietly made his way into the home where he would rest for the night, his stomach rumbling deeply as he started to lay himself out and he realized he'd managed to go without food even when it was offered to him and his stomach did resent him for that fact. He lay down, face first on the stranger's bed and massaged his temples, a grin on his face despite the fact that he was currently without food. He would be heading home, he could have the answer they needed here. It wasn't religion or anything so foolish. He had a healer... someone who was able to help, someone willing to help. As far as Dodger was concerned he was already on his way home with the answers to everyone's hopes on his way. It was wonderful.
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