RP:Flesh and Flame - Mahri heals Nemo

Background

Subsequent to his mauling at the hands of Leifong, Nemo is brought back to the safehouse where a frenzy of activity erupts and healers are sought.

The efforts of mundane healers keep the assassin alive and stable, albeit bedridden, until a stroke of fortune a few days later brings Mahri into contact with Flick, and the offer of gold brings her to Nemo's sickbed.

Cenril - somewhere in the Arril Street area

Korax led Nemo down into the stone passageway referred to by those in the know as 'The Hidden Ace', one of its exits leading into the basement of a nearby fish merchant. After a few stumbling steps Nemo called a halt and reached into his satchel, fumbling around for a small bottle. Grimacing in anticipation, he downed the fermin concoction - a stimulant which would dull the pain and increase his energy for a short stint. Almost gagging on the foul-tasting mixture, only his implacable willpower prevented the man from regurgitating a brew better suited to fermin metabolism. Another few moments produced a dagger and several swift shearing movements removed some of the fabric covering his armoured vest. With Korax' assistance, Nemo applied a temporary bandage/tourniquet to ease the blood loss. Later, smelling faintly of fish, the pair reach the door to the street where a very nervous Flick awaited them. Nemo broke the silence then, voice tight with contained agony "Get me to the safehouse for now. Circumstances have... changed. Perhaps for... the better - However, that assumes I... survive this wound for the next hour... I'll need a healer to do the rest." Korax hissed to himself, gauging the options, then muttered to Flick "Grab a friend, find us a healer. Lead 'em to the flowershop, then blindfold 'em for the rest of the trip. Tell 'em the price'll be worth the inconvenience. Craven's word." Flick gulped slightly, then dashed off into a side alley before clambering up into a crumbling tenement. With a sigh, Korax assisted the heavily limping assassin on their way to the safehouse "Are the streets clear, boss? From the... thing that got Fingers?" Nemo laughed weakly, the Fermin brew starting to have an effect in dulling the pain, and restoring the assassin's vigour "I bloody well hope so, at least in the short term. Let this be a lesson, Korax, an admonition in the art of preparedness: there is no such thing as 'too much fire' when facing darkness and undeath." Korax was slightly surprised at the shift in the assassin's diction and language, used to a more quiet and incisive mode of speech, but merely said "Duly noted, boss. One thing at a time. To the safehouse." Nemo gritted his teeth as his brutalised flesh protested, then nodded "A sound plan, Korax. To the safehouse." A rough few days was to follow. The local healers prevented fatal blood loss and infection with bandages, but full recovery was a long way off, leaving the dandy assassin bedridden. Nemo/Cornelius sent men out to furtively seek the services of a healer with magical skills, knowing that Craven's Crew remained vulnerable with him out of action.

Mahri sat in the Whaler simply enjoying a quiet evening waiting to hear from her Informant. Jackie was at her feet, chin in paws and watchful eyes skipping about. She'd just raised a second glass to her mouth when the door crashed open. Jackie raised her head and Mahri pressed her foot to the dog's ribs to keep her there with a soft 'ssh'. She smelled blood and fear. Two scents that always raised the inner wolf's interest. Staring straight ahead at the back of the bench across from her, the lycan listened, "Is there a healer here? Plenty of money to do it." Now that was interesting, indeed. The female didn't often advertise those particular skills of hers. But gold was something she could use in any case. "I can heal if the price is right." Jackie's floppy ears perk and her body tenses as the man walks, no stalks, to the edge of Mahri's table, "It will be. Will you come?" Heaving a heavy sigh, as though the decision was a tough one, the lycan nods and turns unseeing eyes towards the man, "Lead me there and I'll do my best." Once her foot moves, Jackie is on her feet and ready to guide the wolf. "Ah..well miss. Thing is I gotta blindfold ya." A short laugh escapes the beta and she obliges all while pointing out, "I can't see anyway but go ahead." She had heard about the gangs that roamed the streets and assumes that it must be someone important in that underground hierarchy that needed attention. Jackie whined low in her throat and Mahri shushed the dog. "Stay," is the command given and Jackie goes back under the table while the woman is lead away.

The excitable young streetrat who had sought the tavern was none other than Flick, Co-survivor with Korax of Leifong's predations, whose sense of 'ideal solutions' was questionable as ever - but luck was clearly shining on him this week. With the unexpected success of locating a healer, the lad leads Mahri carefully out the door - no blindfold yet. "Y'see, Ma'am, one of ours got real bad messed up. He's a foreigner, but a bit of alright, innit, so long as he's helpin us out, you know what I mean? The, uh, the dog can come I s'pose. so long as its trained proper. No messes in the rooms, and all" The scent of street stalls and other less savoury aspects of Cenril's streets would assail the Lycan's nose for a while as Flick rabbits on nervously, saying nothing of importance, and dodging any questions regarding the patient. Eventually Flick says "Ahh, Sorry ma'am, but it's blindfold time now." Assuming consent, a thick black cloth, surprisingly clean, is wrapped around her head a couple of times before being tied off at the back. The smell of flowers gets stronger and the Lycan can barely smell the other person in the room engaged in opening a door for Flick and Mahri. A short walk later, consisting of some twists and turns, and there is a creak of wood lifting accompanied by a rush of musty air. "Be careful here, Ma'am, there's steps." Several steps down and the lad leads her down what must be a side passage. The muffled smell of burning wood, cloth, and oil hints at lanterns. Soon the smell of people can be registered, and voiced. Wood slides across somewhere near, and ale-laden breath taints the air "Whatcha got, Flick." The youth shuffles slightly "A healer, Cluster, for Nemo." The man Cluster, whose voice is a deep and no-nonsense baritone, opens the door "Right, bring her in then. And take off the bloody blindfold." The silence is then broken by weak laughter "Well, knock me down with a feather. It's Mahri. How goes it, dear albatross." Only one person would have the nerve to call anyone an albatross, and Mahri will no doubt recognise the voice.

Jackie isn't a dumb dog. Not by a long shot, considering who her sire is. She is up on her feet in a flash and at Mahri's heels the second the boy and woman start off. She'd have told him not to call her Ma'am but doesn't give an alternative. She'd say so again when it's time for the blindfold and Mahri stands there deceptively docile. The steps are taken with a slide of foot over the edge of each riser but quickly enough that it may as well be she's not bind nor blindfolded. Every scent has her nose twitching trying to place it or set it to memory. Especially those of people and one in particular catches her attention. It's hard to catch, what with the ointments and salves overshadowing his scent. It's not until the nickname is used that she smiles and tugs the blindfold off with a flourish. Jackie too recognises Cornelius and, with tail wagging, she makes her way over for an expected scratch. "Did a goat get you again?" It's a jab. A mean one, but there nonetheless. What he'll see, as Flick has seen assuming there's enough light, is a gaze that doesn't focus on anything and may just stray to a spot just over Cornelius' head to give the impression she's looking at him. Up close the pupils are dilated leaving a thin band of silvery irises around them. "So, you need a healer. Guess I owe you one, hmm? Who'd you piss off this time?"

Cornelius/Nemo laughs again "Hah. A goat. I'm almost inclined to say it was. No, Mahri dear, these injuries are just part of the divorce proceedings between myself and my ugly third wife Leifong." a slight chuckle as he gives Jackie a pat "I can't say it went well for either of us, really, but Leifong certainly got the better of the deal. And so here I am, my leg a half-butchered appendage requiring delicate, and magical, attention if I am to invite you out to dance again." In the background, both male and female voices are whispering in response to 'Nemo' revealing so many details about himself, albeit the information might be deemed confusing enough not to count as 'expository'. Cornelius waves a hand weakly in their direction "Oh for crying out loud, you lot. I'll explain all later. Can we -not- consider the injured assassin as a form of entertainment, please? There's too much to be done, and I'm losing valuable time in which to do it. Craven and Korax can stay, but the rest of you clear out, dammit. You're adversely affecting my recovery time at the moment." He directs his next comment back to Mahri, noting the unfocused way her eyes shift towards his body, rather the normally sharp hunters' gaze. "On the topic of injuries... what happened to your eyes?"

Mahri chortles, "Third wife, hm? Coulda done better, Dandy." Given their location, Mahri probably isn't going to use his real name if no one else did. Those eyes did slide to where she figured his legs would be and she'll follow her nose to the scent of the injury, "You'll have to teach me a new step," it's a murmured reply, ears picking up the name Nemo. Her hearing had gotten so much better since she'd been made blind. As feet shuffled out, Mahri edged closer to the bed --or cot-- Cornelius currently occupied. She'll wait til the door is closed firmly before answering, "Vampire blood happened to my eyes. I'll need a bit more information about your leg. What's been done so far? And how many small animals do you have in this place." He'd find out why she needed them when the healing began. Jackie butted her head against the fop's hand for a more substantial pat, maybe a treat if one was available.

Cornelius/Nemo pats Jackie again "Small animal count is one at present. Sorry, pup. Unless you can catch a few rats - we've got plenty of those around. You're welcome to them, old bean" He then responds more directly to her query. "A deep cut leading from the inner-thigh area to the top of the leg. Depth and line of the cut varies, as getting the Femoral artery out of the way of Leifong's blade was a miracle aided by an adrenaline-fuelled feat of acrobatics - which admittedly forced the blade through my flesh in a different direction than the necromancer's original murderous intentions. My left arm, and possibly shoulder I believe, has some fractures from a hard landing. Also, a couple of cracked ribs." The dandy chuckles, the hint of brandy in the air becoming stronger as the chuckle becomes a cough "I rather fear the deity of ribcages has forsaken me, wot." Mentally, the assassin noted the efficacy of vampire's blood on Lycans before continuing "I can see the lack of sight could prove a difficulty. Craven, could you call in Beatrice?" The injured dandy comments "Beatrice is Haggard's wife, and a midwife. She knows a little of the healer's craft, and may be able to assist you." A portly woman smelling of fresh bread, broth, and hot washing water arrives with a disapproving 'harrumph', before her thick peasant's brogue remonstrates with 'Nemo' "Yer daft, Nemo, t'be lollygagging in your state." She turns to Mahri "I'm Beatrice, healer, but ye can call me Bea - don't ye mind these doltish men now. Just tell 'em to shush and let you work, or clobber 'em. Will ye be needing boiled water? Herbs? We've a stock of 'em." Cornelius adds "As you can tell, Mahri, Beatrice is in all but name the commanding general of the kitchens. Alright, woman, don't glare at me. And you, Korax, can stop your bloody grinning."

Mahri listened to the list of injuries with clinical detachment. The lack of small animals wasn't too much of a worry. At least if there were rats about which the scritchy scratchy sounds attest well enough to. A smile touches the wolf's lips, "You have the worst luck with your ribs, Nemo." The name slips easily from her tongue, like she'd been calling him that for years. She'd just about opened her mouth to protest the offer of help but it was too late. Irritation is plain as day on her face but she nods politely to Beatrice, Bea. "I'm Mahri. Thanks for the offer but I really don't need any of those things. If you could quite possibly have someone bring as many small animals as possible, rats would be fine, I would greatly appreciate it. And if you have a soup bone for Jackie there, I would be grateful if you could take her to it." Mahri won't pay attention to the woman after that, almost definitely dismissing her and saying to Cornelius, "The way I heal, it takes energy. I need the animals because it takes life to give life and I would rather the first donors be something small rather than big. Like your friends here." Mahri had never felt compelled to explain before but now seemed a good time as any. "If you can wait a bit, I can get what I need or you can send runners out for them. Catch rats, but them in a cage. Enemies you have locked up somewhere, your third ex-wife."

Beatrice's corresponding look of annoyance won't be witnessed by Mahri's blinded eyes, but Jackie is soon gifted with a ham hock recently removed from a hearty broth cooked up for the men of Craven's Crew. Korax and Flick are sent out with cheese and gold to obtain the living components required to fuel her magics. It takes a couple of hours for them to return, and refreshments are offered to Mahri in the meanwhile: Soup and fresh bread. Cornelius/Nemo uses the opportunity to catch up on news "How did this blinding come about, Mahri? This is the first I've heard anything of it."

Mahri somehow finds somewhere to sit while the necessary bodies are found and brought back. Jackie is happily gnawing on the thick bone somewhere far away enough that Mahri won't worry about her. Smiling her thanks she accepts the offered soup and bread and it might be noted the smile didn't appear to be forced. She'd been getting a lot of practice doing it. "Would you believe I got surprised by a vampiric orc?" A corner of the bread gets a bath in the broth before it's bitten off and chewed slowly.

Cornelius/Nemo raises an eyebrow, although the gesture will not be lost on the Lycan "Surprised? A little. But then, I got surprised by an undead necromancer, so I'm hardly one to criticise. Although in hindsight I'd have been happier with a vampiric orc, methinks. I do recall seeing an orc wench fighting with Urghdak in the Hanging Corpse, one time, with unusually defined canines for an orc. The one which attacked you, did she use swords? More importantly, have they been tracked down already? I've been rather out of the loop, all in all, while getting things organised here in Cenril"

Mahri stops eating, setting bowl and bread aside only half finished, if that. "Yes. That would be her. And she's gone. I think Leo took her somewhere since I wouldn't let him bite her. Neither can be found right now but if he doesn't return soon, I'll be hunting them both." There weren't many places a lycan and orc could go that they wouldn't draw attention. She'd start in Gamorg. "What exactly are you doing in Cenril, other than getting things organised. You realize how hard it is to get the kind of goods I sell is now?"

Cornelius/Nemo blinks, and queries that "Bite her? Has the Captain gone insane? Why'd he want to go chowing down on toxic orc? Then again, I'm not sure I want to know." Still, something to ponder. "As for myself, Mahri M'dear, Vailkrin got a little bit too risky with Leifong haunting the place, so I chose Cenril as a 'home away from home' to set up shop - fat lot of good the change in scenery did me. Still, I have made a neat sideline in the sale of toxins and the occasional removing of obstacles. I was also, prior to Leifong's interference, assisting with the aims of one of the local organisations here. For the moment I am simply ensuring their triumph over a rival group. From there, who knows? I have certain trade arrangements set up in preparation for if I can get a foothold in the black market here." The conversation is eventually interrupted by the sound and scent of livestock: a sheep and pig, to be precise. Looking a little disgruntled, Flick and Korax enter with their prizes "You own me one, boss. This was a bloody pain in the arse. And not cheap." Hessian sacks are laid down around the room, in case of any 'accidents' the animals may have, and matters are handed over to Mahri's control. Cornelius comments "Well, call me Farmer Nemo, and give me a straw hat. Nice work, Korax."

Mahri traded tales with Cornelius, catching up with what's been going in their separate lives when livestock rather than rats are brought in. It's a smell she knew well and hadn't had the dubious pleasure of since she'd been sixteen. Talk of business would have to wait. A different sort of tending was needed. "Well. That's better than rats I suppose." Sheep and pigs were always better in her opinion. Besides, they'd be her gift to Beatrice for her own shortness with the woman. "Shall we see about that leg first, Nemo?" With bowl and bread set aside it's an easy matter of returning to the site of injury. The animals could roam if the wished and Mahri would say so. It didn't matter where they were her magics would do as needed. Without much warning the lycan healer lays hands upon the appendage and closes her eyes. Despite any jerking or cursing at her firm grip, Mahri won't let go and instead will bow her head. Heat, a lot of it, gathers about her kneeling form and escapes her hands lending them a slightly greenish tint. That heat will transfer into the damaged leg, going deep to repair damage to muscle, arteries and nerves. It won't be a painless process and as the healer grows pale, the sheep seems to stumble as the energy that gave the beast life is stolen and spooled through the wolf. There is plenty there in that woollen quadruped to get most of the needed work done but not all. One final confused bleat and the sheep simply lies down and breaths no more. The pig fights a bit more than the simple minded companion it had come in with but even the hog cannot escape the magics at work. Not all the damage would be repaired, not that easily as beads of sweat begin to gather and roll down Mahri's face. Strands of her dark hair cling to cheeks and neck and a slight tremble enters her hands. It wasn't as arduous as saving Lucien's life but the work to knit together flesh was just as taxing. Dark circles soon shadow beneath Mahri's closed blind eyes and she sways with the onset of exhaustion. The pig gives a final grunt and drops with less grace than the sheep and by then most of the healing she can do is done. A small gash is left in the assassin's leg but not life-threatening anymore.

Cornelius/Nemo flinches despite himself as his leg sends waves of pain-messages through his system at Mahri's contact with the torn flesh. His teeth clenched, he hisses "Oh, jolly good show. Please tell me it is usual for the cure to be worse than the cause" The dandy is unsurprised to be ignored, and his fists clench tightly around the sheets as his flesh seems to heat up beyond a normal man's endurance. Some people scream at such times. Cornelius, however, had always found that snark held the greater relief, and the words "Setting me on fire now? Can I expect to see a leg or a burnt patch down there?" force their way through his lips along with a grunt as the pain intensifies. Korax helpfully points out "Looks fine to me, boss". Cornelius bites down another comment as torrents of flame seem to pass through his system, eliciting choked-off utterances of pain as the proud man stoically refuses to scream. The flesh being healed had been brutally rent by Leifong's attentions and by Cornelius' method of escape from what would have been a mortal blow. Much internal damage had been done, and the pain at that time had been sharp and intense - the heat of the healing as it reached down to where Leifong's blade had scratched his thighbone seems to condense and radiate agony even as the flesh knits. Cornelius becomes reduced to incoherent and agonised noises as every ounce of his considerable willpower is focused on the task of managing the pain without outcry. After what seems like an eternity the pain ebbs away, and Cornelius' first coherent thoughts were "So this is what Leifong felt when I rained fire through his shadowform... I should try that again some time...the bastard". His first hoarse words are, however, "Well, get out the broom, wot, and clean up my ashes. I think I'm toast."

Mahri heard everything and still remained detached until the last out pouring of that healing energy left her slumping and breathing heavily. She'll wrap her arms around herself to stop the shaking but it won't do much good as teeth chatter and her considerably warmer self gets cold. "You'll bloody well live, Nemo," she croaks out between clacks of her teeth. Her stomach heaved a time or two, which she swallows against. This is just a reminder why she so rarely offered her skills as healer for anything other than minor wounds, and even then reluctantly. Wiping a hand over perspiration drenched features, Mahri stays right where she is. On the floor next to the bed Cornelius occupies.

Cornelius/Nemo waves a hand weakly. "Someone get Mahri a blanket, some whisky, some meat, and for the love of cleanliness, get those animals to a butcher." Now that the pain has largely left his system, the dandy assassin has regained some of his verve. "Come to think of it, get me some food as well. I've some serious recovering to do, and some equipment to get." Beatrice makes herself available to look after Mahri's needs for the moment, and a nagging tirade soon has Haggard and Cluster, large strong men both, collecting pig and sheep to tromp off with them. Flick trails in their wake, three baskets given to him by Bea for their return trip. Cornelius-as-Nemo wearily hauls himself into an upright position, inspects the almost-entirely healed wound, then murmurs down to Mahri "How are you faring down there? Job well done, by the way, wot"

Mahri isn't in such good shape as to refuse the blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the glass of whiskey pressed into her hand. The meat however is turned down with a polite murmur of thanks. The smell simply churned her stomach. The alcohol is sipped at mostly to settle her stomach before she simply rested against the bed with head lolling back. One might think her drunk already and they might be only half right. "Feelin' better, thanks." Turning her head towards the sound of the dandy's voice, Mahri gives a lopsided sort of grin. "I owed you. Still gotta get you a new shirt or two, maybe a coat, was it?" The whiskey is finished and the glass set aside and if another was brought she'd drink that one too. "Wouldn't try walkin' jus' yet. Give it a day or so, yeah?"

Perched up on the cot, Cornelius-as-Nemo glanced around "Sure you don't want food? We've vegetables as well. Not to mention the soup and bread still sitting over there." He starts to work the kinks and tightness out of his arms and shoulders, laying the foundation for recovery even as he grumbles "Another two days? Dash it all. Were it not for them being a bunch of insufferable bastards who burn too easily, I'd almost envy vampires their ability to recover from wounds such as these." He turns to Korax "Toss me a copper, Korax" His hand intercepts the thrown coin as he speaks to Mahri "I think we can call it even, Mahri M'dear. I value the ability to walk far more than a fancy shirt, no matter the impression I may otherwise give." He starts to play the coin back and forth across the knuckles of his right hand, before changing it to the left, ensuring that his muscle-memory doesn't start to fade due to time spent convalescing. "What are your plans from here?"

Mahri shakes her head, "Nother drink would be nice." Would that be two or three? At the man's indignant response to her healer's orders, she scoffs, "You know I know you'll probably be up and around the second I leave." Speaking of leaving, the wolf uses an elbow on the edge of the cot for leverage to try and get to her feet. Gritting her teeth, the woman nearly has to lock her knees to keep from swaying. Pride wouldn't let her appear even marginally weak despite the paleness of her face and slight tremble to her hands, "Take care, Nemo. Enjoy the mutton and pork." Mahri adds, "My plans? I'm going to find Leo."

Cornelius/Nemo knows the rigid code of pride well, and merely responds by saying "Hunt well, and hunt safely. Korax, bring her the bottle. I'll pay to restock the supplies." The young man, whose clothes bear a slight hint of the drow, though his scent is overwhelmingly human, hands Mahri a bottle. "Flick will lead you out as before, if you need to leave straight away. Otherwise, there is a spare cot should you need rest. There is, of course, the Cenril Inn - naturally I would pay for the stay."

Mahri accepts the bottle of whisky that's pressed to her hand and she'll drop the blanket where she stands. "Flick's done enough, thanks. Might take you up on the cot though." Not even pride is going to stop her from dropping due to exhaustion. That was one thing she'd learned early. "I'll be damned if I'll be owin' ye for a room too." And that's where Mahri will end up most likely. On that spare cot with Jackie laying close enough Mahri's fingers brush the top of her back. In that vulnerable state of oblivion, Jackie won't sleep herself but growl menacingly at any who get too close. Except maybe Nemo. He'd get the thump of a tail first as though to say, "Sorry, love but I can't let you near her when she's this deep asleep."

The next day, when Mahri has recovered and left on her hunt, Nemo/Cornelius calls a meeting. Seated around the table, the dandy assassin is brief and to the point. "Circumstances have changed. The need for the role of Nemo is no more for now, though the mask shall ever remain ready to be worn as needed. Now that the conflict between myself and the one who wounded me is largely resolved for now, I can move out of the shadows and into daylight once more. I have equipment to obtain, and I may be out of Cenril for a small while. Continue recruiting, consolidate your base of operations, and stay out of conflict for as long as possible. When I return, it shall be as Cornelius Von Penzance, gentleman of Vailkrin and smuggler, captain of the Wave Cleaver. My return shall be to 'protect' my business investments from external pressures. A simple lie, but serviceable. Then we shall hunt down Sawtooth's men, and dig them out from their holes. Find out for me who else holds power in this city's criminal interests." Korax pipes in, voice hard "Are you saying you're a bloody pirate?" Cornelius looks the dark-haired cut-throat in the eye. "No. I needed a ship, so I bested Glaive in Rynvale for the right to operate his. I am a businessman who understands the benefit of owning his own supply chain. Sometimes, to annoy real pirates, I wear a big hat and eyepatch and say 'Yarr' a lot. Any problems?" Craven furrows his brow at the explanation "Are you saying that... you act like a pirate to annoy pirates? That sounds... stupid" Cornelius nods "Well, yes. The captain of the pirate ship Eternity punched me in the face one time. Sometimes vengeance is indeed petty." The men fall silent then, for the men of Cenril instantly recognised the ship referred to. The silence is broken as Cornelius states "Now that I have the ability to move, I shall make my move. If there are problems, leave the Mark of Nemo scratched on the bridge on the Kelay side of the river. If I see that mark, I shall make my way into the city with all haste." The discussion ranges then to strategy and short-term logistics, until eventually Cornelius packs together his belongings for a sojourn into the countryside while he recovers, leaving the identity of Nemo behind for now.