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Author Topic: Nyermersys - {SC} Hospital of Seyella  (Read 14419 times)
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Navar The Rogue Assassin
The Rogue Assassin
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Elf, Coór'hém


« Reply #45 on: August 10, 2007, 09:00:58 AM »

Navar dropped his human bagage in front of the hostpital. And with a scoff says "There you go, here's the hostpital." NAvar watched THe two human and realized he had never gotten a name.

"So what do you call yourselves. I typically like to know the names of my clients." NAvar stands ther tapping his foot impatiently awaiting an answer.
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There are those who KILL and those who are KILLED, guess which one YOU are.

      ~Navar~

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Niccoli Faust
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« Reply #46 on: January 16, 2008, 12:14:38 PM »

The two guards, now sweating profusly with their prone charge kept on a piece of rought canvas stretched between them almost bowled over the featherlight doorman of the smaller hospice as they entered. The more coherent of the two, Arn, began talking "Jus' up an' faint'd. Poor thing's been shaking like a tree in an autumn windever since we saw her, well don't just stand 'ere man DO something!" Arn threw his hands up and bundled up the canvas from under the child. He'd done all he could, and there was work to be done. Besides, the hospice gave Arn the chills and not in a good way either; all those sick folk stuck up in one place was bound to make you catch something. "Come on Tim, let's get out of 'ere afore I get something." Arn staggered out of the hospice into the welcoming coolness of the outside before the humidity hit him smack in the face. He gave his head a little shake and left.
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Morcaanan
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Human, Korweynite


« Reply #47 on: January 17, 2008, 06:56:34 AM »

The doorman, at first inclined to be huffy at the impromptu manner of the guards was overwhelmed by their chatter, and sent scurrying deeper into the hospital.

He returned hurriedly with a middle-aged abbess, but by this time the guards had gone. She knelt at the side of the rail thin child, who was quivering with cold.

"Go fetch blankets and warm water" she snapped to the footman.

He obeyed, hastening to a steaming cauldron, next to which were blankets and an empty pot. He hastily filled the pot and scooped up the blankets, then hurried back to the abbess.

"Spread the blanket on her" commanded the sharp abbess; when the footman complied she noticed a lump in the blankets.

"Fool!" she snapped testily - the sick had worn her nerves down today, and she was losing patience. "Unfold it all the way." She rolled the blanket back to smooth it out, then leaped back with a high-pitched shriek.

The rat, sitting on Callie's chest, darted away at the sudden exposure to light, under the table and into some corner.

"Kill it!" shrieked the distraught abbess, waking several of the sick inmates. "Kill it, vile servant of Queprur!" But the rat had already disappeared.
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Morcaanan
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Human, Korweynite


« Reply #48 on: January 20, 2008, 02:53:57 AM »

After making several rounds, the abbess returns to the girl's side and shakes her gently: it would do well if she knew how long the girl had been sick, did she have family, where she was going, and so forth.

Poor child thought the typically crispy woman. She barked often but bit rarely unless the day had been unusually taxing, and the thin, starved form under the blanket tore at her heartstrings.

"Wake up, little mistress" she said, realizing she did not even know the child's name. "Wake up." She shook the thin shoulder. "You must have something to drink." She had a cup of thin wine at the ready, should the girl revive enough.
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Kyrridhil Culná mo
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Elf, Aellenhrim / Eophyrhim.


« Reply #49 on: March 02, 2008, 07:34:26 AM »

Kyrridhil Culna mo lay in the hospital bed shaking in his slumber, a cold sweat enveloped his body like a cocoon as he lay somewhere between the realms of the living and the dead. A weak poison flowed through his veins, presumably from the blade that did unto him these grievous wounds. For a moment his eyes flicked open as a particularly violent shudder jerked him almost off the bed. He screamed once before falling back into the sleep. If it could be called that.
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Smell that? Yeah thats you wallowing in self pity.
Deal With It

-Kyrridhil Culná mo to a Remusian guard after being told he had brittle hair.
Kyrridhil Culná Mo
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