News from the Roost

It is the Third hour by the Light on Lanternglow, the 29th day of Shadowreach in the year 626.

Infirmary 


 * ''The moans of wounded and the coppery smell of blood frequent this chamber in equal measure. Nearly as expansive as the main hall from which it branched and twice as wide, this ward for the wounded can hold easily two dozen men comfortably at a time. Comfort being a relative term for the injured, of course.


 * ''Twelve sturdy cots line each length. Each cot is raised from the ground no more than two feet, just enough space to easily slide a chamber pot in and out. Rust-colored sheets and thickly woven blankets drape over the beds. In efforts to place these practical, stain-hiding dressings into a warm color scheme, earthen-toned tapestries have been hung from the walls. Thin rugs of a rich, clay color stripe down the center walkway.


 * ''A hearth is set into the wall opposite the doors. Pails sit in waiting on either side, ready to either deliver hot stone or water to those who have need for it. Hung above the flame is a bundle of herbs, slowly burning its cleansing properties into the air. A hole in the lofted ceiling draws the smoke out to keep the air clear. Two windows, one facing east and one facing west, allow natural light to shine through during the day. The same pillars that kept the previous chamber erect act as mounts for candle sconces to dimly light the room at night.


 * ''A few crimson-cushioned chairs are scattered about, acting as perches for those who come to console their ailing loved ones.

The Hall of Healing is a place of peace this late at night. Only a few patients are wakeful. In a bed, one patient sits up, propped up by pillows. She's squeezing something in her right hand.

The sound of leather shoes on the cobbled floor are evident, though their bearer, a soldierly looking type clothed in a white robe seems to be trying to make the sound as quiet as possible. His gaze is caught by each individual in bed, but he doesn't seem to find who he is looking for, not now. He frowns, moving to walk towards the healer on duty.

The healer on duty, a matronly woman, walks up to the soldierly type. Speaking quietly, she asks him, "Is there someone you're looking for?"

Lucius Nepos gives a nod in the affirmative, his frown sweeping off of his face all at once. "Yes, I'm looking for Robert Bluegrass. He's a former Blade, was in here for wounds he recieved on duty but.. he doesn't seem to be here. Was he discharged?" Asks the ex-Marshal, throwing a fold of his robe over his left shoulder.

The healer thinks aloud, "Bluegrass, Bluegrass... he might be discharged tomorrow. When I last checked him, he was sound asleep. You can see for yourself." The healer points towards a bed right next to the one with the patient sitting up.

And now, it is the turn of the soldier to smile warmly at the woman. His shoulders sag, clearly relieved, while the creases in his forehead melt away. "Thank you very much, ma'am. He's a good friend of mine." Lucius tip toes off towards the aformentioned bed, glancing at the very awake neighbour. His eyes squint in recognition.

Chaori Balsam is busy suddenly pulling her blankets up to her neck. "Don't mind me," she whispers. "I think I remember you. It's not important if you're here to visit someone else."

Lucius Nepos glances to his left, at the sleeping Bluegrass. He takes out a small pouch of pipeweed from his belt and puts it next to the man's bed along with a short, stout pipe and two small flintstones. Then he looks back at Chaori. "Oh, he's asleep. No worries. Where do I remember you from.." He looks hazy, as if trying to remember the details of a long forgotten dream.

Chaori Balsam supplies in a whisper, "The palace. Sir Lucius these days, is it not? Did you ever get a medal for enforcing the Surrector's orders?"

Lucius Nepos can't help but chuckle, even in the low tone that he must. "Ah yes, Sir Lucius indeed. No, I got no medal. Nor did I need one. My duty was enough. And now, my duty is no more. Where did you dissapear to?"

One of Chaori's hands snakes out from beneath the blankets to pat the chair beside her bed. "You might want to sit. This is going to be a long story."

Lucius Nepos almost verges on a chuckle this time but relents and nods, taking a seat next to the raven haired woman. He watches her with interest, his green blue eyes almost urging her on.

Chaori Balsam smiles a tiny bit at Lucius, then begins. "When the epidemic was finally over, I had a few job offers. I chose to go to Outroost Keep, ruled by my friend Baron Aughol Zahir. Outroost was blessedly quiet, aside from the occasional emergency call from a neighbor. Lady Neryim tripped over one of the chairs and was dead less than an hour after she hit the floor, but no one blamed me. Then Roland came on one of his visits. I swear that chair wasn't there a minute before. I'm always very careful about things like that, in case I need to rush through the room in the dark."

Lucius Nepos listens with interest to Chaori's story, seeming to remember some of the details by various nods of the man's head. "It was a cursed place, they say."

Chaori Balsam mutters, "Once I would have doubted that. Not now. He stumbled right into my chest, which was *always* underneath my bed unless I needed something from it. He fell, smashing his left temple into the edge of my wardrobe. I managed to get him into my bed and get the wound cleaned. I remember trying to figure out where he'd be bleeding inside his skull and thinking he was dying. Everything went black until I woke up here a few days ago."

Lucius Nepos just sort of .. stares at Chaori for a few moments, jaw agape. His pupils dilate further, filling up the inside of his irises. "You know, Roland was a Bladesman. What do you mean, you went black? Did he perhaps hit you on the head? That makes no sense.. what did the healer say you had as an affliction?"

Chaori Balsam shakes her head. "He didn't hit me. Even if he hadn't loved me, he was in no state to do anything. The Royal Healer said my condition resembled a trance more than any coma she could think of."

"Ah, so you spoke to Rowena. A trance, eh? Never heard of it. If I were still a younger man, I'd say it was some Shadow inflicted illness. Luckily, I'm not so ignorant these days. They sure you didn't catch the Dark Pox? You were in close contact with it, I remember." Queries Lucius, curious.

Chaori replies, "Oh, I did. I had recovered from it before I was summoned to attend the Emperor."

Lucius Nepos looks at Chaori seriously. "So then you think it was this.. trance? That brought you here for months on end? Do you know that Aughol is dead?"

Chaori Balsam's eyes go wide and she turns white as a sheet. With a visible effort not to shout, she whispers, "What? No, no one told me that. Everyone's been willing to tell me about the affairs of the realm at large, but very unwilling to answer questions about specific people."

Lucius Nepos seems taken aback by Chaori's reaction. He places a reassuring hand on the skinny woman's shoulder, eyes and expression sympathetic, now. "I'm sorry it was from me you had to learn. Was there anyone else?"

Chaori Balsam's shoulder is painfully bony these days. Chaori manages to fight back her tears long enough to moan, "Dead, because there was no one else? I'm not sure he would have trusted another healer. Is Lord Achol ruling Outroost Keep now in Baron Aughol's stead?"

"Of that I do not know. If he is, he is a much lower profile man than Baron Aughol was. What with the chairs and all. I wish not to be a bearer of bad news, but the realm experienced a rather sad period last year which we're recovering from. Cheer up, Mistress Balsam." Lucius says, trying to present an expression of happiness. "The realm is returning to order and there are many wonderful people."

Chaori Balsam is not cheered. In fact, she's dripping tears. "And Roland? Do you know what he's doing these days? He had just enlisted in the Blades, so perhaps he became a courier."

Lucius Nepos lowers his head. "I do not wish to pursue this avenue and upset you further, Mistress Balsam. I should go."

Chaori Balsam lies back and begins to cry into her pillows. Between sobs, she gets out, "Come again if you wish."

"Light Keep. I hope to see you out of your bed, soon. It's not health this way." Lucius collects his wolfskin cloak from the chair, checking on Bluegrass again and then heads out. He sighs.

''Return to Season 5 (2007)