RP:Healing a Northman

This is a Healer's Guild RP.

Synopsis: Sabrina discovers Jarith in a bad state and sets mind to task, healing the Northman.

Healing a Northman

Jarith felt like garbage at this point, and he’d barely reached the scenic view. It had been easy to seem a sturdy badass when others were present but frankly, the knight was exhausted and hurting. His skin had been nearly boiled and it showed, not to mention the beating of vine and thorn punches that had been aided by the latter’s strength. He had thorns buried in his upper torso, and bruising, perhaps a cracked rib or two. His jaw hurt, and there was still some bleeding from his jaws, to list the whole anyways. Jarith felt like he’d been the unfortunate whipping boy to a couple giants. He gave in here, on the cusp of that view and set on his knee for a moment, kneeling and with a hand to his ribs, grimacing as he sucked in air painfully and released it with that strange frosted chill that marked him as the Northern Borne. His armor was a ruined mess in that hall, left in only his sweat and bloodied shirt and the dark pants he’d kept under the protecting layers, he was for the first time in a long while quite helpless.

Sabrina stopped here often, as she would any other day her rounds took her this far north. She sees Jarith, familiar now by sense but oh so unrecognizable by sight. ‘Gods.’ The word mouthed in silence as she begins a trot-to-run in his direction. “Hey, hey, hey…” Her gloved hand comes to his shoulder, but pulls back when she sees the extent of his body. “What in the seven hells spit you out?” She would lend her own slight frame for him to stabilize himself but it was obvious she wanted him to sit back. She came around to his front, the refreshing minted hue of her good eye taking focus as it sunk into near pitch darkness of a full black sclera. She was assessing him already, letting the bag slide off her shoulder to thump unceremoniously to the ground where she knelt beside him.

Jarith started at the chanted greeting, almost making to draw the blade on his hip before recognition dawned and he stayed that hand. A grimace lifted from the male again, the action had hurt and when she sat him down and then back with her gentle prodding he hissed a bit. Still it didn’t halt the strangely twisted humor possessed by the knight when he was injured or even upset. “Not a damn clue, I want to blame the gods, but it had black hair, breasts, fangs, and an apparent attachment to bestiality and vines. Frigging wolf, and I like wolves… “ He coughed and winced, clutching his chest again. Those eyes would blink at her strange attention, and he would surprisingly manage another statement. “ I swear I look humanoid normally, don’t try to feed me to your hell hound. I am pretty sure he’d win, and though they may not show it much I think my kids would miss me and maybe even my fake wife, but I’m not certain about the last one.”

Sabrina didn’t know or understand half of what he said but in his condition she would be quick to chalk it up to a certain level of delirium. “Rohk is on a hunt in Frostmaw, you needn’t worry.” Her smile is kind even if her eyes are not. She made a questionable face at his mention of a fake wife… that was different. “Are you going to let me help you?” She was already removing her gloves, figuring he was in no state to defy her. Still, she needed permission before forcing her work on people. She is looking up and around. Secluded enough, maybe. Generally she preferred her patients to have some shelter but even the rain that was promised on the wind would do him more good than a roof and a bed pan.

Jarith He greeted the smile with something of his own, gasping a little as he shifted a stone from under his back. “That’s good, pretty sure he might not like the taste and then you’d be down a Rohk…” He gave a quirk of brow at the name he repeated. “While he either digested or greatly labored to divest me of his form, either way.“ Stubborn as it was the male gave in to her nurture versus nature attitude and he nodded. “ If you’re going to help, m’lady I am all for it, really.” Burly as he’d been, the knight was too tired to bother putting up a fuss and so long as Sabrina didn’t attempt to knock him out for the healing, he’d settle under her hands right and easy.

Sabrina is still smiling, though inside she is laughing at him and not with him. She pulls a few things out of that massive bag and uses what is left of it to prop his head neatly. She has a blanket, some bandages, a dowel of wood, and a handful of different colored vials. One of the vials is filled with a greenish white powder, which she offers in the form of a question. “How are you with pain?” An odd question, given his current state, but what she held promised a temporary release from it.

Jarith blankly stared at that vial and actually seemed lost in thought after her query for a span of long moments before he did find words. " I don't like it, but if necessary can tolerate it." simple enough really and yet he would only give her a pat of his hand on her knee. " Just go for it, Sabrina.. At this point, a half-grown ice-giant could kill me with a single punch."

Sabrina shifts her position as her eyes fall to that friendly pat. Her knees are pivoted an incrementally small distance from him since any further movement would imply that she’d actually have to rise from her place. There is a smile he wouldn’t see, no matter how brief, of the practiced variety. “In that case, I must insist.” It was kind, but not convincing. Vial A is mixed with a bi-level purple/green fusion from vial B and it is shaken vigorously. She would inch her way to his upper half and tip the contents at his lips. Her hand at the nape of his neck, used to prop him while he drank, would feel warm. Moreso it would begin to feel numb as the concoction takes the feeling from his skin and muscles but does nothing for the broken bones. He would be overcome by a numbness, and with all hope a dream-like state of awareness. The process would have taken place very quickly leading on to believe that ingestion of the drug was not a prerequisite to the performance of it.

Jarith took in the liquid without complaint though there was evidenced in his face some hint that her lively little concoction tasted downright awful. He said nothing as it were and when he drifted to lay his head back seemed to allow that eerie calm over him. His heartbeat finally returned to the abnormal almost near-death thump and he seemed to at the least regain some color along the blistered flesh of his form. The pain he’d been in had definitely been downplayed, if those changes alone could be noted. Still, the knight seemed to accept the peaceful serenity, and his only offering would be the faintest twitch of his skull, perhaps he’d heard someone and then those pupil-less blue eyes lifted back skyward to let Sabrina work on unhindered.

Sabrina knew the mix was foul at best; medicinal and chalky in a way that lingered on the tongue. She sits criss-cross at his arm, opting to work from one end of his body to the other. The hand is taken up as the appendage is draped across her lap. Her concentration face was oh so serious and fingers poke, press and prod at the blisters along his limb. Each place where her skin contacted his was delivered a rippled boost of regenerative energy, the skin forming under the burns would probably itch and not ache given the concoction he was just administered. As new skin formed under old the debris of dead flesh would be half wiped, half scrubbed with a rag at her disposal to reveal fresh, yet paler flesh. She would work her way through one arm, and then the next, and lean over him when she worked along his face and neck. Her eyes would shift between work and his expression to ensure he was still at ease through the process, but when she came to his neckline she tapped his shoulder gently. “I need to remove what is left of your shirt.” The armor was brittle, likely in need of replacement, and the leather straps dehydrated to the point of crumbling rather than unfastening.

Jarith could not have accurately described that sensation, the ripple of magic was something known and at least familiar, but the way it made those wounds itch before she scuffed the death from it to reveal his skin was something of a confusing thing. She moved easily, slowly and as she did so the labored effort of his movements drifted, a hint that also the pain would be easing away too. The expression on his features likely would be labeled accurately as mystified and yet he did not move to halt her. At the mention of his shirt and the need she had to remove it he nodded, speaking slowly, but clearly. “ I have some scarring over my heart, nasty looking, but I assure you it’s not like those blisters. No amount of scrubbing will fix them, and truth, I prefer they remain.” Some scarring was all for the beholder really, and when Sabrina removed his shirt it would show in vivid clarity, the blistering of his skin only more greatly affected the marring of his muscular flesh. In a normal time the wounds which looked as if he’d had someone carving his heart out with a rusty blade and two hands, complete with random finger marks may have made his already ripped flesh seem masculine, or attractive, likely in this moment it made it all the more disgusting. Either way, the old wounds might beg the question of just what Jarith may have done in his life to deserve that.

Sabrina hums softly, nothing bardic, but more simple to pass the time. “You can’t heal scar tissue, it is essentially the body’s gift to heal itself.” She goes on to explain, deep in her concentration as she uses a small surgical instrument to cut away the scorched fabric. It is all set aside. She was not taken aback by his scars though, something she was either used to or appreciative of and the location of his was not too different than her own, unless one were to judge the quality of extraction. “Scars happen when the body builds over dead cells, with the fresh wounds being healed in a timely manner you will not have that… it’s not magic though, or I would ask if you were…” The rest of the thought was in her head. Talking was not her strong point but she was trying. Her hands moved along every inch of his marred flesh. At times it would have been bordering pain, and others, intense pleasure by means of a release from the turmoil set upon it. It was a matter of location. In her moments of distraction he would find something else; emotional. While it was often believed that Ardent’s such as herself simply did not possess emotions, he would find this to be totally inaccurate. If anything, her kind felt deeper than any other and it would convey in several separate instances when her mind was allowed to frolic in frivolity. Caring, would be gracing the surface of what she felt when she touched him. It was open and raw and unspecified. And he would feel it too, like a mental awareness that she was not just going through the motions of making him complete, instead, she was taking many measures to ensure the process was as comfortable as possible. Her face though, still concentrated, may have easily been misread as angry with brows pulled together and the shrunken scowl of deep thought.

Jarith the emotions washed over him, as well as those sensations, no missing the bead of pain ad is fled across his own features. Either way the knight never graced her with a sound, perhaps he was steel, or stone. No, the more accurate was this, Sabrina’s emotional connection was frankly too much for the altered elven male, internally he’d simply had to shut her out. It was a habit, whenever those raw and unfettered feelings reached him and to have another trigger them was worse, a self-imposed regiment of safety pulling him from that ‘nearness’ and the knight would take all of it and attempt to keep himself apart. The effect was not magical by any means for him, it was a need, a savage desire to try and keep himself from becoming a ‘person’ again. Jarith wasn’t successful all the time though, and that was clear only on a few instances, pain, pleasure, caring. Those triggered a facial response, but only just and then vanished. Her explanation was something he appreciated however, and he’d admit as much later, for now though, he did not comment, worried to interrupt her flow and risk more of those strange feelings wash into him from her touch.

Sabrina was not without some compassion as a few of those disruptions in his features were caught, if by no more than the slightest twitches out of the corner of her eye. It reminded her, centered her. She had been told several different versions of how that violation felt, and while essentially chemical in nature there were times it couldn’t be helped. This was enough for one day, she thinks. Intrusions had a tendency to wear on the patient and this was not the outcome she wished for. She sat back from her position, sucking on her teeth that she should do more… but he wouldn’t die without it. She was in deliberation internally and suddenly very silent. She had a tendency to think in real time. After the long moment she stands, taking to the bandages she had set aside and she adopts a more natural, more professional demeanor.” I need you to sit up.” If he was able she would carefully wrap his ribs before pilfering the four remaining vials and presenting it to him; two greenish white powder, the remaining, the bi-level purple and green. He saw how to mix them, and it should be obvious they shouldn’t be premixed prior to taking. “One more at dawn, the other at midday. Hm?”