RP:Healing Nymh

From HollowWiki

Synopsis: Nymh is resting in a room above the Frostmaw Tavern, in severe pain, after he drove his cursed blade through his abdomen. After lengthy discussion amongst those gathered, the drow is healed by Talyara and Lanara, under Hildegarde's instruction.


Lanara enters the tavern, and shakes the frost from her long, lustrous, locks. Chocolate brown eyes widen, as the tavern was full with triple the usual amount of patrons. Was there a big sale on ale? A party? Curious, she removes her fur lined coat, and lifts Taylor into her arms, not wanting her paws to get stepped on. "Hello, Drargon. An ale, please." She orders, while scanning the patrons gathered.

Talyara runs her fingers through Emrith's hair gently as she dozes, casting a weary look at Xersom as he lets out a laugh. Nymh wakes up, after having dozed off for some time, and immediately spots Tylania nearby. "Ty... thank you for staying. Can you hand me... my ocarina? I can't play... but I'd like to have it in my hands." It was true he couldn't play it... if he could, he'd be much, much quicker in healing, after all.

Lanara nears her Talyara and gives the woman a gentle nudge, in the ribs. "Tally, what's going on? Why is this place so packed?" Twitching her pointed ears, she receives her ale and takes a sip of it. "I went out for a walk, to gather some herbs, and I return to find all of these inhabitants in the tavern."

Ayras just shows up. He looks at no one, says nothing to anyone, and promptly plops himself down at the bar. He's paler than usual, and his metal limb is tinted with dry blood. "Drargon," he calls his usually melodic voice gruff, "Something to drink. Don't care what." Before he could receive his order, his head thunks onto the bar top as a groan escapes his lips. Tylania smiled sadly towards the man "With your wrists broken you can’t even hold it Nymh..." her voice was soft and sad, she didn’t want to tell him no, but things were getting tricky around here, she had to play it safe.”You need to be more concerned about resting up. She looked over his bandages to check if they needed to be changed. "How are you feeling today?" she wanted to get him talking, if he spoke then there was a chance he would stay conscious long enough for her to figure out what was going on.

Talyara shifts slightly in the chair so as not to disturb Emrith who is resting, albeit not soundly, after being awake all night. She motions for her sister to lower her ear so that she may whisper.

Emrith grunts and snorts, having heard Lanara's voice from nearby. He twitches, blinks, and then groans; his doze had been light enough, and Lanara's question, asked of her sister, was enough to unravel it. "Hmm?" is all he manages, blinking blearily.

Xersom drummed his fingertips lightly on the table, his voice still low toward Hildegarde.

Talyara whispered to Lanara, "Apparently, the hologram of a drow matron, Laezila, showed up last night. Something happened with Nymh and his cursed blade and he took it upon himself, wrecking his stomach. Emrith was there had to break both his wrists so he couldn't kill himself. Now he is upstairs with a cursed wound."

Lanara bends down to receive her sister’s whisper, and frowns upon hearing what Talyara had to say. Shaking her head, she sighs, somewhat dramatically. “Why would he do that?!” Emrith was given a curt nod, as she spies the two lovers tangled up in each other’s arms, a small smile on her lips, despite the situation. Xersom and Ayras were given a curt nod, and a customary wave was offered to Hildegarde, though her attention never strayed far from Talyara’s gaze. “Tally, I work well with curses… How is he, right now? She speaks in a hushed tone, though those close to her would overhear.

Nymh sighed. It was his object of comfort. "Then open my songbook, please." He ignored her questions about how he was feeling... he didn't want to answer honestly. "I'd like to sing. There are lyrics, which I wrote. I can't... use magic by singing. I only ever learned to do so with my Ocarina. But, I really want... to make some music right now. Page... thirty four. Could you hold it for me?"

Tylania thought about it...what harm could it do? She walked around the bed to grab the book, and set lightly on the edge of the bed. She saw the feather in the book, and took it out, only to put it further back in the book so it wouldn’t fall out. Turning it to the page she held it open and over him so he could read it. She had always liked his singing anyways. “Alright, this page?"

Talyara lifts her shoulders slightly. “I do not know, Lana. I confess I was not present for what transpired, I was only told a short while ago of what had happened.” She turns to look at Emrith apologetically as she blinks awake. “I’m sorry; I was trying not to disturb you.”

Emrith murmurs thickly in his throat, and then focuses on Talyara. "Sokay," he slurs. "I probably ought not sleep here in this chair in any case. So comfortable though." He looks toward Lanara. "You were right," he tells her, not specifying what it was she was right about.

Nymh smiled, and thanks Tylania. "Yes, that's the one. These were poems, from back when I taught myself to read and write in Drow. You won't understand the words, but it is a morbid song anyway, only lightened by the precious idea that no matter how vast the darkness of the Underdark, there's always hope of the light." He'd begin singing, in spite of his wheeze, being possessed of a rather beautiful voice. The song was almost lilting, but tinged with that same darkness that Nymh could never escape. There was no magic in the words, in the song... only through his ocarina and some whistling could he work his magic... and only barely when whistling. But he felt more at peace, when he was done singing the poem. "Thank you... Tylania. It... Means much to me."

Lanara sighs, and shrugs her shoulders, as well. She wanted to inquire more about this, but if Talyara wasn't there when it occurred, what was the point? Sighing, she leaves Talyara and Emrith's side, and lowers herself into a vacant chair, at an empty table. The ale was brought to her full lips, once more, as she lays a small saucer of milk on the floor, for Taylor.

Xersom said to Lanara, "Have you met my wife for that interview?"

Lanara purses her lips, thinking of what Emrith had said to her, only a moment ago. Eyes widen as realization runs through her mind, the brunette spinning around so quickly in her chair, that she sends the saucer of milk onto its side. Taylor glares up at her, a pout on her muzzle, as she's forced to lap up the remaining milk from the wooden floor. Lanara doesn't meet the black cat's gaze though, as her eyes are fixed on Emrith's form. "Traitor!" She hisses, rising to her full 5'6" form, and digging her nails into the table. Tilting her head to the side, she speaks in her elven tongue, her words meant for Emrith's ears, though she cares not who understands her language. "Nymh... Is a traitor?"

Tylania seemed troubled by it "It was beautiful Nymh..." she shook her head, sad memories were something she tried to avoid.”You need to relax, I know how much your singing means to you, but you need to just lay back....." she looked his bandages over again. "We need to change these," she walked away to grab a couple extra pillows to prop him up on while she cut the bandages and prepared them.

Lanara controls her temper, momentarily, as she casts a sidelong glance at Xersom. A half smile is given to the male, as she tilts her head to the side, responding to his inquiry. "Not yet. She has quite the schedule. We are going to attempt to do the interview today, or tomorrow evening. Your wife is very lovely."

Talyara jumps slightly at Lanara's sudden outburst. Emerald hues flicker from her sister to the spell-blade, an uncomfortable silence befalling the witch. "Um..." She looks confused, to say the least.

Xersom offered a small smile toward Lanara, the gesture polite, but ultimately his eyes narrowed at the topic of heated whispers between dragons.

Nymh sighed. "They wouldn't need such frequent changing if I were allowed to -heal-. That damned Emrith..." Not a single healer had come to see to him. Emrith was keeping him confined, while he was a 'loose cannon'. "If I can just find someone knowledgeable in curses, I know I can bridge the gap between Shatterscourge and myself, now. Communicate with it. It came alive, in a new way. There might be a means to alleviate the curse... but I can't do it sitting here." He'd obey Tylania, and do as instructed however, wincing at every motion. He'd learned worse... but this pain was constant, and terrible.

Emrith is almost as surprised as Talyara by Lanara's outburst. He flinches. "No, Lanara. About me. You were right about me." His smile feels a little forced, a little false, but it curves his lips anyway. "Nymh is very disturbed, dangerous and currently badly wounded. But as far as I am aware, he is not a traitor."

Lanara inhales sharply, clearly not expecting that rapid of a turn in the conversation. Trying to quell her anger, she looks at the floor, recalling the element of spirit, to mask the discontent that was coursing through her at the moment. “Oh…” She eventually responds, meeting Emrith’s gaze, and nearing the couple. Taylor meekly prances behind her, rubbing against her calf, in an effort to calm her owner. “Well… Right about what, exactly? And is anyone tending to Nymh?”

Tylania sent him an apologetic look "I’m sorry Nymh; I know nothing of healing, or curses. The only thing I can do is keep your bandages clean, and keep you from getting an infection." She pulled out a small vial of strange smelling lotion like stuff. "This will sting okay?" It was antibacterial, after pulling off the old bandages she put a small amount on the cuts, and the open wound in the stomach. She then wrapped it up in new clean bandages.

Talyara casts a sideways glance at the spell-blade as her sister approaches them. “Aye, I admit, I’m curious to know what she is right about as well.” A small smile curves upon her lips as she awaits his answer. She knew it wasn’t always easy to deal with the sisters, especially when they were together.

Nymh hissed as she applied the antibacterial. It... Sure did sting. "The wound is cursed, you know. It might look infected, but it's just the... never mind." He sighed. It didn't mean there wasn't a reason to be cautious. "Just give me my Ocarina and I could fix half of this in an hour..."

Xersom caught the words by Emrith; 'disturbed, dangerous', concerning Nymh and his eyes shot toward Hildegarde with narrowed suspicion. "Dangerous? This Nymh is dangerous, and has been lurking around my wife?" His fingertips rapped impatiently on the table, the antic soft but still causing distinct grooves in its surface.

Emrith said to Lanara, "You were right about my heart. That is all I meant."

Lanara said to Emrith, "*eyes Talyara, and grins* I am always right, I am an empath, and I think I sort through feelings of the heart, rather well. Your mind was confused, but not your heart. I am happy you chose the right person, and that my sister is happy. Treat her well."

Tylania shook her head giving him a sad, rather helpless look. "I can’t do anything for you Nymh; all I can do is keep you company. My hands are tied Nymh, I want to help, but this is the best way I can help" she hung her head, feeling defeated, "I....wish I could do more but I cant, so just be happy having some company..." her voice had gotten very quiet, she felt awful for not being able to do anything....of value.

Lanara glances around the tavern, at all of those gathered, growing more impatient with each passing second. "Okay... Why exactly did Nymh harm himself, with a cursed blade, no less? Is anyone tending to him? How severe is the curse? He needs attention, soon, if it's the sort that I've been schooled around. I may be able to heal him, if it's not already too late." Hearing Xersom and Emrith's description of Nymh as 'dangerous' causes her to scoff, lightly. Though, he was half drow... Who knew? Plucking the small black cat from the floor, she rests her gently in Talyara's arms, giving the squirrel at her sister's side, a nasty warning glare. "Watch Taylor, sister. In case I am needed for healing. She smells drow, and randomly is known to attack." Turning to Emrith, she places the decision in his capable hands, as he's the one that likely imprisoned the half drow. "Shall I tend to him, or no?"

Nymh looked to Tylania. "You being here is more than enough, Tylania. I wouldn't be able to take it, being alone right now." He didn't look at her as he said it, always having trouble revealing such weakness. "You stayed with me, and it means much. And thank you, for tending to my bandages." He'd lie back, and exhale slowly. It wasn't right of him to make Tylania feel so put off, and was the farthest thing from what he wanted. "You're one of very few people that I trust implicitly, Ty."

Talyara takes Taylor into her arms and scratches the feline behind the ears. Of course she much preferred Lana, but she was not against a good petting. She stretched out her legs, pawing Talyara’s thighs before settling down. She stays silent as her eyes slide from her sister’s face to that of the spell-blade. For the time being, the witch was staying out of it until her assistance was needed, if at all.

Tylania shook her head, "I’m glad you feel so" she smiled towards him, but it wouldn’t quite reach her eyes. She walked over towards the chair she had spent the night in, when Nymh had fallen asleep she had flown back to the forest to recover her bow and arrows from the place she normally hid them. If she was watching over someone who couldn’t protect themselves, she needed to be ready to help out as best as she could in her condition. She began stringing up her bow, "Do you remember the day I met you in Kelay? The song you played?" she asked, she just needed him to talk, she couldn’t stand the silence.

Emrith straightens up and, with an effort, clears his mind, the better to hit to the heart of the situation. "Nymh went into a frenzy late last night. A holographic image of Laezila was here, something set him off, and he attempted to kill himself. Perhaps his blade was to blame, I am not certain. I leapt upon him, broke his wrists and disarmed him. He has a grievous stomach wound, plus various others which are more minor. He rests above, under elven guard, and I believe an avian, Tylania, is with him. I have asked that none enter without leave, and that none attempt to either heal him or attempt to free him. Nymh may be an ally, but his instability is a liability we cannot afford. Lanara, I will not attempt to draw your blood, but I ask you not to attempt to tend him, not yet. He wishes to maintain Shatterscourge, his cursed blade, and I believe his only salvation will come from permanently divesting him of that curse." He collapses back, as if the simple act of speaking has taken something out of him. It has; the elf is clearly exhausted.

Hildegarde whispered conversation with Xersom is halted as a giantess approaches and stoops down in order to apprise the Steward of what had occurred in the tavern the night before. It seemed that while she had been off dealing in matters of diplomacy and security that something alarming had occurred in the tavern. Blood had been spilled but she already knew that from the coppery tang that still hung in the air. Now she can hear Lanara talking, asking Emrith for direction and being told otherwise. Without a word of apology or excuse to Xersom, the Steward rose from her seat and firmly brought the butt of her halberd against the floor of the tavern. “That is enough,” she says loudly and curtly, speaking with her ‘I am the commander’ voice and not her polite conversationalist voice. “I would have a capable healer or two follow me to Nymh’s room. I will reward you in gold for services rendered,” the woman said in an icy voice. “Be quick about it.” The woman turned, hoping that both Lanara and Talyara would have the sense to follow her to the upper level of the tavern. The elven guards who stood outside the door acted only as a beacon to Nymh’s location. “Move,” the Steward commands, freeing the entry to the door and immediately entering the room. The woman did not say anything, only looked at Nymh and his guest to assess his current state.

Lanara shakes her head, lowering herself into the offered chair, and crossing her legs. Uncertainty was evident in her expression, as confusion clouded her usually clear mind. “Hm… Well, what is the plan of action? Clearly, the weapon needs to be destroyed, or the curse removed from it, though it will be hard to reverse the curse from the weapon. Only the one that placed the curse may remove it, otherwise the blade will have to be destroyed. If the curse was on an actual person, yes, it can be removed, but reversing the curse on an object, a weapon no less, is not an easy task… He should not have that weapon, to begin with, if he’s that unstable and doesn’t understand the consequences of having such a formidable magic attached to it.” Pausing, she nips her lower lip. “I will have to tend to his wounds, though, Emrith. He will die, otherwise. And if he is an ally, he deserves to at least be our prisoner, comfortably. I am sorry, if this upsets any of you. And I’m not sure what made him turn the weapon on himself, it may not have been the sword’s fault, perhaps it was the wielder’s own psychosis, a suicide mission, of sorts. We will just have to keep a close eye on Nymh, and see what develops. Excuse me.” Rising to her feet, she immediately tows behind Hildegarde, the mention of gold, adding extra speed to her steps.

Nymh heard the march of footsteps up the stairs, even if he didn't hear Hildegarde silence those down below. His senses were all helter skelter with his wounds troubling him, so. But he wouldn't ask for something for the pain... it was his burden to bear. When Hildegarde came through the door, he blinked. He couldn't begin to guess what would happen next. Tylania frowned slightly, she knew he couldn’t play it right now, she just wanted to know if he remembered it or not. "If you think I’m leaving you here alone, you are sadly mistaken Nymh, I am not going anywhere for anything" she put her bow and quiver on her back over her wings and sat down the edge of the bed with him "I’m here for you whether you want me here or not" she smiled to him and ruffled his hair slightly "That’s what friends are for, eh?"

Talyara nods her head towards Hildegarde and quickly pulls herself from Emrith’s armchair, turning to place Taylor where she had just sat. She gives her a comforting pat before offering the spell-blade a small smile and turning on her heel and to follow her sister. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “What do we know of this blade? I know it was bound to Nymh while he was still in the womb. I know when I reached out to feel its energy it recoiled. Perhaps…” she shifts her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. “What if the blade were to come into contact with the blood of someone pure? Do you think the white light would imbue upon the metal, thus counteracting the possession, even in the slightest?”

Emrith sighs wearily, then raises himself up and begins to shadow Talyara. He wants to be close, to hear and see what happens. He walks just behind her, prepared to hang back a little if he must; Hildegarde's tone of command has neither surprised him nor put him out of countenance. He does not speak a word, but takes up the role of silent observer. He is armed, he is resolved to do what needs doing, but he hopes that whatever it is does not take too long or require much effort. He puts one splayed hand on Talyara's left shoulder, with a little more forward pressure than might otherwise be typical, using that outstretched hand for support as much as casual affection.

Hildegarde can hear the steps of others behind her; she knows that they have come at her behest or at the clinking promise of a golden purse. Either way, they have followed and that is all that matters. “How are you feeling, Nymh?” she asks of the wounded bard. Her voice is not sweet, but it is perhaps as sweet and soft as the knight can be. The woman is evidently concerned for his health. “The tavern is rank with the smell of blood. I am amazed you are still conscious,” she remarked, sole eye drifting briefly to the sheath that held Shatterscourge; trapped in wire and unable to be released. To Lanara and Talyara she raises a hand, “You accepted my offer of gold, so you will then take instruction from me. You are to do nothing at the moment. I would chat to Nymh first. See how he feels.”

Tylania watched the woman who entered from Nymh's side, she seemed rather pleasant to Ty, but she refused to leave Nymh's side just yet. She whispered to Nymh quickly, and then returned her gaze to the woman in front of her. White wings tucked neatly to her body, she looked between the two, she felt protective of her friend, and would do her best to keep anything bad from happening.

Nymh turned first to Tylania. "She's safe. Be at ease, Ty." He'd look to Hildegarde, and with some effort, pull himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth as he stretched his stitches. No magical healing sucked. The pain, he was used to, though. "I am... hardly well. But... I have had a breakthrough. Shatterscourge possessed me... but was unable to finally kill me, and take over my body as it wished. Now... it has seen through my eyes, heard through my ears, felt through my body. I believe... If I can communicate with it..." Flecks of blood speckled his lips. "Then I can..." He did his best to choke down a cough that threatened to open the wound in his stomach wide open. "I -must- communicate with it. I need... magical aid. If I'm right... if I'm right, I can subdue this curse, greatly."

Lanara steps into the room where Nymh was being held, and eyes the half drow, on the bed. She stands beside Hildegarde, a worried expression on her fair face. He clearly was in apparent pain, and didn’t look good, at all. The curse was deeply rooted into him, from a brief glance, though she would have to fully examine him further, to see just how much damage was done, and how much time left they had, if it was even treatable. Peering over her slender shoulder, she offers a faint grin to Talyara, pleased that her sister followed her lead, and responds with years of knowledge under her belt. “No, Tally. I don’t advise that… The weapon was imbued with a curse, and it would possibly kill whoever took on the burden. The only reason, I believe, that Nymh lasted this long, is because he was born of the blade. The best way to work in this situation is to heal the affects of the curse, first. Then… We can cast an immunity spell on the blade. Where the wielder would be immune to the effects of the blade, just in case this were to happen again. “Her words are wise, her tone soft, and her mind was focused. “It won’t be easy though.” She then meets Hildegarde’s gaze, and shakes her head. “I will listen to your instruction, of course. But please, consider my advice, before making a decision. His life depends on it, and you are somewhat familiar with my abilities. I can mend him.” Turning to Nymh, she steps nearer to the bed, though she doesn’t touch the male or attempt to examine his wounds, without consent. “If you wish to communicate with the blade, you must wait to be healed, first. Then, an immunity spell on the blade, so it can’t harm you, or curse you, further. And then, if it’s wise, Tally and I would be happy to assist you with communicating with it.”

Talyara ascends the stairs as she follows the back of her sister’s hair. A firm pressure on her shoulder indicates that Emrith has joined in the fray. Upon entering Nymh’s room, the witch’s breath seems to be caught in her throat. While not fully empathic like her sister, when emotions run high, she can be affected. Not having been trained to shut it off, she grabs hold of Lanara’s arm briefly to steady herself. There was much pain in this room. Once discerning Nymh’s pain from her own, the dizzying sensation seems to lift as she nods respectfully to Hildegarde. “As you wish, ma’am.” She moves towards the half drow, standing just behind her sister and offers him a half smile, fingertips lightly lying upon the bed beside him. “We will help in whatever way we can, Nymh,” the witch speaks softly as a means to reassure him. Emrith :: "I urge you all to remember that we are dealing with a complex individual and a malevolent intelligence. I urge you all to remember that we are also at war." Emrith's voice has more than its typical harshness, owing to his fatigue and his wariness. "Nymh might say or do anything to suit his own ends, even grievously wounded as he is. Caution first. Always." He falls silent, not wishing to lecture; his hand remains on Talyara's shoulder.

Hildegarde offered a grunt as Emrith speaks, “It is a difficult thing to forget. If you only seek to lecture us all rather than understand what we attempt, you can leave, Emrith. But do not seek to stand there and ‘urge’ us to remember that which we cannot forget,” she retorted and none too happily. To Tylania the knight offers a reassuring smile, “I mean your friend no harm. In fact, I only wish him well. Nymh does not often think well of me, that I do know,” as their last meeting had proven, “but he came to Frostmaw for aid and that is what he will receive.” The woman paused for a moment before turning her attention back to Nymh, “As you have heard, these two ladies believe they have a solution for you. I ask you, what if it goes wrong? What if your communication becomes a miscommunication? Would you not rather be split from your blade and whatever evil it is host to and be free to choose a weapon and life of your own?” she asked of him, though not unkindly. “I am not telling you or your sister what is best, for you two will be far superior in knowledge about these things than I will ever be. But I am bidding you wait until I give you leave to act. That is the manner of being employed; you do as your employers bids. So, patience, m’lady. I wish to have a better understanding of the matter at hand.”

Tylania had always been a good listener, and things were beginning to connect, like when she first rescued Nymh from the drows, he had been crazy, thinking she was a hallucination. Her gaze traveled to the dagger now held firmly in place by wires, something told her it wouldn’t last that way. Then to Nymh, after piling a few pillows behind him to help him sit up, she pushed him gently against them "If you continue to stretch your stitches we will have even more to worry about, you can push your mind, but your body must rest. Then finally her gaze turned towards the sisters and Emrith "You can...save him then?" she asked, not quite able to look them in the eyes. Nymh had been through so much, so much pain. She wanted his pain to stop.

Nymh shook his head. "It is a part of me. It will never be removed from me, cut off from me, or wrested from my side, not by magic, not by the supernatural. I doubt even a God could do so. It is tied to my soul, we are -one-. But when it tried to possess me, I think it saw more. Do you think every vampire to be a malevolent intelligence? This blade knows only me. Only that I can deliver what it thirsts for, like a child, hitting its mother for milk, because it was never taught better. At least, that was I felt, when it possessed me. I think it has the simplistic worldview of a parasite... it feels the need to feed, and presses desperately to survive, just as I do. When it took over me, finally... I saw it. It saw me. It disregarded me, in its desperation to take on life of its own, to kill me and feed, but if I can talk to it... If I can communicate..." He was pressing himself, breath labored. "That's all I need. The chance to connect with it. If I go berserk again, if it takes over, I won't be hard to kill, or restrain as you see fit. I beg this of you." He was looking towards Lanara, seeking the one he thought could make it happen.

Lanara casts an annoyed glance at Emrith, a soft sigh escaping her lips, as she diverts her attention back to the task at hand. As if she could forget a war? As if she would lower her guard, for a moment, around the unpredictable half drow? Surely he didn’t think them all that foolish!? Biting her lip from replying with a sarcastic retort, she stands close to her sister, and keeps her gaze on Nymh. She would heed Hildegarde’s words, and not do anything, though she hoped that the steward of Frostmaw knew that time was of the essence. Still, being employed, as the woman put it, she would remain silent and do as she was ordered. Tylania wasn’t spared a glance, as the elf was only concerned with those she knew, at the moment. There would be time for introductions and formalities later, but for now, a life was at stake. To herself, she speaks in a low tone, though her voice would unintentionally carry to those in the room, her mind racing. “The best course of action would be to banish the curse on his body, and then tend to the wound. If he wishes to communicate with the cursed blade, we will leave it cursed, for the time being. However… If the curse takes over his mind, that will be nearly impossible to repair. The damage would be severe. Many precautions would have to be taken. Perhaps. just mend the body, remove the curse on his person, and deal with the cursed blade once he’s fully well and around again. He is too vulnerable to do a communication spell with dark forces on, in his weakened state.” She blinks, stops talking and glances up, as though she didn’t realize she was voicing her opinions aloud.

Talyara turns her head and casts a sideways glance at Emrith as he speaks. Sensing the annoyance of both the Stewardess of Frostmaw as well as her sister, Talyara offers nothing more to the spell-bland than a gentle squeeze of his hand before returning her attention on Lanara. The crafty sisters would not do anything until they were instructed but Tally gently bites on her thumb as she considers her sister’s words. “But where shall we banish the curse to? You know as well as I do that something as strong as this will not give up without a fight, thus it might look to find a new host to possess.” She sighs. “But I agree, we cannot think upon communication with the blade until Nymh’s body and mind are healed and strong enough to proceed.”

Emrith :: "You will forgive me, I hope," Emrith says dryly. "I have some considerable experience with this man, some of the last of which has resulted in a sleepless night and a very short temper on my part. If I have spoken out of turn I cry your pardon, but I have little taste for mincing words and less for folly." His green eyes, now nearly grey in the extremity of his weariness, flick to every face in the room before he resumes. "This man has healing magic at his disposal, and I have seen him shadow-step...fade between planes for brief periods. Give him a small window of opportunity, and he - or his blade, at least - will disappear through it. I do not expect that we will see treachery at his hands directly, but he will very clearly seek his own agenda above all others. You can forget about any orders you might give or suggestions you might offer to him, Hildegarde. Give him healing, and you will lose all control of him, and may never get it back again. If you value autonomy above the blood of your kinsmen, and our own, then heal him. If you value this war as the greater good it represents, then you entertain a kind heart at our collective peril. As ever, I will be ready to deal with the mess those results." Not waiting to be dismissed - for he expects to be - the elf removes his hand from Talyara's shoulder and takes four or five steps backward, standing clear of the door. He will leave the room, but not the vicinity.

Hildegarde shrugged her shoulder at Emrith’s dry reply, “A sleepless night would explain your attitude. Get yourself to bed. One cannot think straight if they do not sleep,” a dismissal without being outright dismissive. “You appeal to Lanara and her kind nature,” the woman says, having not missed the way Nymh chose to stare at and address Lanara with his plea for help. “I am willing to have you healed, providing you do not leave Frostmaw until this matter is resolved. And it is not a matter I intend to let linger. I would have you well and able, so I might place you well in the battle to come. I think it is better to put you at the back of the line, rather than the front. At the back you will blend in with the war-drummers and you will be able to lend your musical strength while Beorn leads the troops. Meaning that if the opportunity for some… well, some well placed attack or subterfuge presents itself, you are able to take it. So, I understandably need you well for this.” The woman paused for a long moment. “Agree to remain in Frostmaw while this healing and communication occurs.” Tylania was trying to bite her tongue against Emrith, her anger flairing even if only for a moment. Her hand unconsciously moved towards her neck, how dare he speak of another being treacherous. It was his fault she no longer could fight after all. She sat there trying to calm the storm that had suddenly engulfed her. Not only had he disabled her, but now he wished to leave Nymh in the same condition???? She had to take a deep breath, she could feel her blood pressure rising, and her breathing quicken as he spoke. Shaking her head slightly as he left she turned back to Nymh, waiting for his answer. She wanted him to be healed and moving again, if only to rub it in Emriths face. Someone that he came in contact to would make it out in one piece, even if she had to search the world to help him.

Nymh looked to Hildegarde as she spoke. Her reasoning was sound, and it would make the greatest use of his unique set of abilities... she was an able commander. More importantly... she trusted him. "I give my word that I will not leave until this is resolved, to your satisfaction." The words were tentative, because he knew he would abide by them. Rogue he may be, but he had a strong sense of ideals, all his own. He did not give promises lightly, but was now putting his trust in Hildegarde. Hadn't she earned his trust, more than once over? He chose to ignore Emrith's words. He was right, after all... Nymh would be quick to go rogue, in his madness, if he convinced himself the world was against him. And he had, all too recently. It did nothing to curb the look of loathing he shot the elf's way, however. Were they so different, wood elves and drow? "Like it or not, Emrith, I am no man. I'm an elf, same as you." He said it loudly enough for Emrith to hear, along with all it implied.

Lanara twists her figure and meets Talyara’s emerald gaze, sighing faintly. “If we banish the curse from his form, it will flow into nothingness, for now, and eventually find its way back to the blade. However, upon reversing the curse from the actual blade? That we will need all the help we can get. It will be a long process, possibly taking several days or weeks. We will need priests, healers, many tools, among other things. We need to be fully healed, of our mind and body, on that day. That’s why my primary concern is for healing the wound, right now, and removing the curse from his form.” To Emrith, she meet’s the elf’s gaze, concerned. “Pray to the God and Goddess that we are on the right path, then. We will have to be prepared when he communicates with the blade, though I don’t see a direct threat, at the moment. He may be half drow, true, but he is also half elf. Our half brother, in a sense. Still, everyone, be prepared.” Turning to Hildegarde, she waits for permission to begin her ritual. “May I?”

Talyara crosses her arms over her chest and furrows her brow at her sister. “Did I not just say the same thing?” Talyara bit her tongue, and closed her eyes taking a deep breath. She knew Lanara was the better healer in the family but that did not mean Talyara was naive in how these things worked. “Sorry…” she muttered before offered an abashed look in her sister’s direction. She was only trying to help, not admonish Talyara’s knowledge. Moving her gaze to Hildegarde, she waited for her permission to continue.

Hildegarde offered a nod of her head, "Do what you must to make Nymh fighting fit," she told the sisters, taking a step back to give them the room necessary.

Tylania decided it was time to move away from him, slowly getting up to let the women have their space. She didn’t say anything, just tucked her wings tightly to her body so as to not bump anyone with them, and then she made to move behind the women towards Hildegarde.

Nymh looked between the witches. "The blade its self... and its curse... leave it be, I implore you. Just... heal my wounds." No good could come of tampering with Shatterscourge, trying to move the curse, or whatever it was they'd been talking about. "The curse is a burden... I can bear. Trying to meddle... with it may well have... devastating results."

Lanara nods in response to Hildegarde, and motions for everyone to move out of the way, pointing to a far corner of the room. Those that didn’t wish to stay were welcome to wait downstairs, in the tavern. Talyara was grasped lightly on the arm though, as she would need her sister’s assistance. “First, I am going to banish the effect of the curse, that’s coursing through Nymh, and making him so sick. After the circle is closed, another will be opened, and we will heal him, sister.” She looks away from her sister and rests her palm, gently on Nhym’s forehead. “Do not worry; I am not touching the blade. I am only removing the curse that pierced your flesh, not your actual bond to the blade. I can feel infection running through your veins. You need to trust me. You will still be connected to the sword and be able to communicate with it. I need to do this, for a moment, so that I can heal you. You just lie still, alright? Close your eyes if you like, but please, try not to move.” Quickly, she removes the necessary tools from her satchel, and is pleased to see that the bed isn’t against the wall, and allows her access to completely form a physical circle around the room. She places five black candles around the bed, one to represent the four elements, and an extra for spirit. A bowl, filled with water and three pinches of salt is settled on an end table, her finger twirling thrice to bless it. And the final tool was a small stone, held close to her heart, for protection. If one looked close enough, they would notice it was tiger’s eye. Once the preparations were complete, she bows her head and centers herself, envisioning a bubble of protection surrounding her, as she raises her head and begins the circle. Starting at the candle behind the bed, she begins casting the circle. “Earth! Welcome to the circle. Pull negative energy away from Nymh.” Lighting the black candle, she would then move widdershins, counterclockwise, as this was a banishing spell. “Water! Welcome to the circle. Cleanse and purify Nymh.” Lighting that black candle, she continues. “Fire! Welcome to the circle. Burn away the curse that’s on Nymh.” Again, the candle was lit, as she moves to the next element. “Air! Welcome to the circle. Blow away the curse!” Lighting that candle, she moves to the final candle, and without saying anything, she merely lights it and tightly grabs onto her sister’s hand, their wrists rubbing together as she focuses all of her energy onto banishing the curse.

Talyara stands within the confines of the circle that Lanara is casting. As she walks widdershins, inviting all the elements to join their sacred space, Talyara extends her hands to the side, palms facing upward, welcoming each Ancient One as they come, tracing runes of protection and healing within the air. Lanara grabs Talyara’s right hand with her left and the witch’s eyes flutter open. Playful nature gone, her jaw is set and her muscles tense as the magic begins to swirl around the witches and Nymh. Fingers entwined, a burning sensation can be felt between the sisters as their rune tattoos touch for the first time in many years. Having been carved there upon each girl’s skin at birth, they knew little more of their power, other than sensing when the other was near. Talyara focuses her energy and raises her hand which grasps her sister’s in the air. Words begin to fall from Talyara’s mouth that is not only alien to everyone present, but also herself--some type of archaic tongue. She chances a sideways glance at her sister as a silvery aura begins to form around their conjoined hands. Soon Talyara can hear her sister join in on the chanting, the energy within the circle grows heavy and with a final yell, their arms lower towards Nymh’s direction, the silvery orb from her hands detaching and heading straight towards his wound. Eyes wide Talyara turns to her sister and speaks in a low, excited voice, “Did what I just think happen, happen? Was that the Triple Goddess?”

Tylania stood in the spot where the women had pointed, refusing to leave the room until Nymh was able to walk, able to move on his own again. She whispered prayers to herself for him, hoping that whatever strange magic these women had worked for him. She watched the ritual, confused, but unable to look away at the same time. Her anger at Emrith had all but vanished as she watched mesmerized as the witches chanted in a foreign tongue. She had never been endowed with such magic prowess, but even she could feel it radiating from them.

Nymh felt the burn of the curse in his wounds fading, the detriment on top of the wounded flesh. Hard to heal... harder to simply make vanish. Whatever power they summoned, drove it away, made it fade to ash in the light of their magic. When that orb reached him, it filled him with healing, and even Shatterscourge quaked at its might. His wrists, his stomach, the myriad slashes... they started mending, and peace filled the void where pain vanished. It was... relaxing. He could feel the fatigue he'd been fending off in pain and exhausted vigilance catching up to him, and his eyelids grew heavy. Soon, he felt unconscious that magic surrounding him in its powerful glow.

Lanara drops her hand from Talyara’s, the elf shaking visibly, as she looks from her sister to her wrist, and back into her sister’s emerald hues. Speechless, she nods up and down, though excitement begins to edge in on her sanity. Apparently, the rune tattoo’s, which always magnified their strength when the two were near each other, was newly empowered, since the passing of their mother. Now, when the two runes’s touched, they could fully activate the power of three, and the spell was that much more effective! The maiden, mother, and crone, unite, and with the powers that be at hand, the curse is banished from Nymh’s form. Quickly, Lanara regains her composure and stands before the bed, raising the bowl full of the blessed water above her head. After a fleeting moment, she spills the water from the bowl, slowly, allowing all of the liquid to pour onto the wooden floor, below. Placing the empty bowl back onto the end table, she moves clockwise this time, to allow positive energy to fill the circle. Nearing each of the invoked elements, she would thank each element, and blow out the black candle, until all five candles were blown out, and all elements have left the circle. “The circle is now closed, and the curse has been lifted, so that I may proceed with fully healing you, Nymh. It’s a rather quick procedure, considering that our positive energy is now flowing through your veins. For now, your bones should be mended, as well as your minor cuts and bruises. However the deep wounds will require medical attention or further magic. If you want, I can continue tomorrow, or you can call in someone to cleanse and suture the stomach wounds?” Talyara stumbles forward slightly, grabbing hold of the edge of the bed. A sheen of sweat glistened across her face and the witch almost looked feverish. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing but smiled despite her exhaustion. That had been the most powerful piece of magic the sisters had every conjured together. It was then that Tally understood that her own mother’s power flowed through her tattoo. She was pleased that the curse had been lifted from Nymh but she looked longingly at the door, wanting nothing more than to lie down and stop the shaking that had somehow taken hold of her body.

Tylania waited until both women seemed to have completed the ritual "Is it done then? Can he be healed, or heal himself when he awakes?" her voice was naturally quiet, but she spoke loudly to catch the witches attention. Lanara hangs her head and breathes in deeply, exhausted and spent, from the magnitude of the magic that they just conjured. After several long moments, she raises her head and meet's Nymh's face. "I am glad you are well, please stay safe, and I will come and visit you tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, everyone, I really need to rest." Turning away from the bed, she cheeks Talyara lightly on the cheek, hugging the half elf close. It was bittersweet that they shared a unique bond, but a bond that reminded them both of their late mother that they both loved so dear. Tears sting the brunette's eyes, though she dares not to let them fall, amongst strangers and those she barely knows. So she whispers to her sister, gathers her belongings, and exits the room.

Emrith has retreated to his own room in the interim, having known he would be of no use to the witches in their circle. He is fast asleep in bed by the time the circle closes, finally afforded a well-deserved rest.

Lanara whispered to Talyara, "You must go and rest now, sister. Please. You will need your strength, for tomorrow... You can lead the healing ritual, if you like... I love you. Be safe."