Re: Houses of Healing III
Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2026 8:15 pm
@Ercassie @Arnyn
Hal Veranis
Around noon, Herb Garden - Jan 1st
Slowly, far more slowly than he liked, Hal's throat began to relax enough to allow him to draw breath without coughing or wheezing. The feeling that something was lodged into his airway had subsided, mostly thanks to the relaxing scent of whatever that oil was, which the healer had given him. He still felt exceedingly weak, however, and it frustrated him. All the struggling, just to remain alive, felt as if it had drained him of whatever energy he'd had. Hal watched the lady rush off to fetch a guard, before he even had a chance to ask whether she was alright. But she must be, if she were able to run like that. It was her hand which had been injured, though.
The laughter which then erupted from his attacker drew Hal's gaze toward him, wondering what in the world he found so funny. Should they be concerned? Hal struggled to raise himself up onto his elbow, at least, because he didn't like having to lie there, helpless, on the ground. He stared at the man, pinned by Macardil, as he finally got over his fit of laughter and declared.. that he had poisoned Hal. Had he been standing, he might have needed to sit down. As it was, he stared as a multitude of thoughts raced through his mind. Was it true? He'd been through so many mind tricks like that, from the one who had sent this fellow, that he found it difficult to discern what was true or lie, now. So instead, he turned his focus toward how he felt.
But he hadn't had a chance to really assess that, before Macardil spoke to ask him to go and find a healer. Right, that might be best, but.. if what that guy had said was true, it wasn't likely that anyone could do anything for him, right? There was also a possibility that it was only a last desperate try at getting Macardil to rush to Hal's aid, leaving the attacker to escape.
As those thoughts fled through his head, Hal worked toward heeding his friend's words, as well as he could. He could get up, he knew he could. He'd done it plenty of times already, even when he was still down in the dungeon, chained to the wall. It was only a matter of determination, and he had plenty of that, right? Pushing himself to sit up fully, Hal thought he was going to manage it. But now that he was upright, the garden spun, and he ended up sinking with his back against that low wall, panting for breath.
"Don't let him go," Hal's voice sounded raw and hoarse as he requested for his friend to prioritize keeping the man contained. He wasn't sure if this sudden exhaustion was from his struggling, earlier, or if it was indeed from some poison. It was alarming, but he struggled to keep calm. But not knowing whether Macardil could keep calm, seeing that Hal could not get up. He didn't want to risk that guy getting away, if his friend chose to try and help him instead of what he was currently doing.
He tried once again to get up, and found that he was just too weak right now. "If.. if there's any truth to his words, which I doubt," Hal continued, in his raspy voice, followed by a cough before he went on. "Then... there's nothing you'd be able to do." He pointed out. If, according to the man's words, Hal would be dead before the healer lady could return, then what could Macardil do, anyway? He swallowed with some difficulty, his throat hurting. Could that be a symptom of poison, or was it from the choking grip of the stranger? "He needs to be arrested, whether it's for attempted murder.. or murder." He rested his head back against the wall. "Ademar sent him.. he said so." He confirmed Macardil's guess, since the other obviously wasn't going to.
Nurse Maeth
Meanwhile, in reception
Maeth nodded in reply to the man informing her of his daughter's name. Upon seeing the location of the wound, the nurse caught her breath, but otherwise gave no reaction. But she knew that this wound could be the worst kind. The kind the claims a life. And this girl was hardly into adulthood. Maeth swallowed down her own fears and memories, and focused instead on what she had learned of healing in the years since her own, personal tragedy.
Diona was still breathing, and that was good. She was pale, and her skin felt cool. She had clearly bled a significant amount, and her pulse was weak. Maeth pressed gently on her abdomen in first one spot, then another. She was watching for what sort of reaction might tell her whether this spot hurt more than that spot, while also feeling for herself whether there was any swelling to indicate internal bleeding, or perhaps rigidity that might cause concern.
Maeth closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a slow, steady breath. "She's certainly lost a lot of blood," She spoke at last. That was obvious, of course. But what he'd said had given her some hope. If she had been bleeding for several hours, which the dried blood on the blanket seemed to imply, now that she considered it, then the chances were very high that her liver had not been damaged. "I've not found any indication of internal bleeding, which is a relief. She is pale and cool, from losing so much blood," She acknowledged, "But she isn't as.. severely pale and cold as I would expect to find, if her liver had been struck, as I first thought." She explained to the man in a gentle tone. "I'll need to check her more thoroughly before I can be certain, but it seems.. promising that she's gone so long without treatment and is not in worse condition."
She felt bad, offering him hope only to snatch it away, but she felt that honesty was important in such situations. She had been there, in his position. Not once, but twice. And she knew exactly how it felt to be clinging to a desperate hope that one's child might survive wounds like this, only to have that hope dashed. She would not wish that pain on anyone. But she also didn't want to offer him false hope, only to turn out to be wrong.
Hal Veranis
Around noon, Herb Garden - Jan 1st
Slowly, far more slowly than he liked, Hal's throat began to relax enough to allow him to draw breath without coughing or wheezing. The feeling that something was lodged into his airway had subsided, mostly thanks to the relaxing scent of whatever that oil was, which the healer had given him. He still felt exceedingly weak, however, and it frustrated him. All the struggling, just to remain alive, felt as if it had drained him of whatever energy he'd had. Hal watched the lady rush off to fetch a guard, before he even had a chance to ask whether she was alright. But she must be, if she were able to run like that. It was her hand which had been injured, though.
The laughter which then erupted from his attacker drew Hal's gaze toward him, wondering what in the world he found so funny. Should they be concerned? Hal struggled to raise himself up onto his elbow, at least, because he didn't like having to lie there, helpless, on the ground. He stared at the man, pinned by Macardil, as he finally got over his fit of laughter and declared.. that he had poisoned Hal. Had he been standing, he might have needed to sit down. As it was, he stared as a multitude of thoughts raced through his mind. Was it true? He'd been through so many mind tricks like that, from the one who had sent this fellow, that he found it difficult to discern what was true or lie, now. So instead, he turned his focus toward how he felt.
But he hadn't had a chance to really assess that, before Macardil spoke to ask him to go and find a healer. Right, that might be best, but.. if what that guy had said was true, it wasn't likely that anyone could do anything for him, right? There was also a possibility that it was only a last desperate try at getting Macardil to rush to Hal's aid, leaving the attacker to escape.
As those thoughts fled through his head, Hal worked toward heeding his friend's words, as well as he could. He could get up, he knew he could. He'd done it plenty of times already, even when he was still down in the dungeon, chained to the wall. It was only a matter of determination, and he had plenty of that, right? Pushing himself to sit up fully, Hal thought he was going to manage it. But now that he was upright, the garden spun, and he ended up sinking with his back against that low wall, panting for breath.
"Don't let him go," Hal's voice sounded raw and hoarse as he requested for his friend to prioritize keeping the man contained. He wasn't sure if this sudden exhaustion was from his struggling, earlier, or if it was indeed from some poison. It was alarming, but he struggled to keep calm. But not knowing whether Macardil could keep calm, seeing that Hal could not get up. He didn't want to risk that guy getting away, if his friend chose to try and help him instead of what he was currently doing.
He tried once again to get up, and found that he was just too weak right now. "If.. if there's any truth to his words, which I doubt," Hal continued, in his raspy voice, followed by a cough before he went on. "Then... there's nothing you'd be able to do." He pointed out. If, according to the man's words, Hal would be dead before the healer lady could return, then what could Macardil do, anyway? He swallowed with some difficulty, his throat hurting. Could that be a symptom of poison, or was it from the choking grip of the stranger? "He needs to be arrested, whether it's for attempted murder.. or murder." He rested his head back against the wall. "Ademar sent him.. he said so." He confirmed Macardil's guess, since the other obviously wasn't going to.
Nurse Maeth
Meanwhile, in reception
Maeth nodded in reply to the man informing her of his daughter's name. Upon seeing the location of the wound, the nurse caught her breath, but otherwise gave no reaction. But she knew that this wound could be the worst kind. The kind the claims a life. And this girl was hardly into adulthood. Maeth swallowed down her own fears and memories, and focused instead on what she had learned of healing in the years since her own, personal tragedy.
Diona was still breathing, and that was good. She was pale, and her skin felt cool. She had clearly bled a significant amount, and her pulse was weak. Maeth pressed gently on her abdomen in first one spot, then another. She was watching for what sort of reaction might tell her whether this spot hurt more than that spot, while also feeling for herself whether there was any swelling to indicate internal bleeding, or perhaps rigidity that might cause concern.
Maeth closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a slow, steady breath. "She's certainly lost a lot of blood," She spoke at last. That was obvious, of course. But what he'd said had given her some hope. If she had been bleeding for several hours, which the dried blood on the blanket seemed to imply, now that she considered it, then the chances were very high that her liver had not been damaged. "I've not found any indication of internal bleeding, which is a relief. She is pale and cool, from losing so much blood," She acknowledged, "But she isn't as.. severely pale and cold as I would expect to find, if her liver had been struck, as I first thought." She explained to the man in a gentle tone. "I'll need to check her more thoroughly before I can be certain, but it seems.. promising that she's gone so long without treatment and is not in worse condition."
She felt bad, offering him hope only to snatch it away, but she felt that honesty was important in such situations. She had been there, in his position. Not once, but twice. And she knew exactly how it felt to be clinging to a desperate hope that one's child might survive wounds like this, only to have that hope dashed. She would not wish that pain on anyone. But she also didn't want to offer him false hope, only to turn out to be wrong.