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Mare Internum: An Exalted Quest

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Look, we did just have a Moment of Inner Peace that is most definitely not the result of drugs. We can play at being more sensible for now.

The possibility of maybe More Drugs during surgery may be a slight bonus.
 
Going to surgery means we'll get to learn whatever happened to that soldier with the really bad wound. Maybe we'll be able to help (probably not)!
 
We need to get patched well enough that we can get up and continue making stupid decisions.
Like fighting Mai.
 
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For A Better World 50
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    • Shane_357 said:
    [X] Okay, let's go to surgery.
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    "Okay, let's go to surgery."

    You leave the hunter's body where it lies, bound in his own chains. With some effort, you untie his head from your belt one-handed and toss it on the pile. Hopefully the legion will see to his funeral.

    Lily makes a lazy salute to Colter as she takes you back to camp. There are still navy defending the palliside wall, though far fewer than there were. You don't see Usamir or Jades anywhere. Presumably, they went into the forest to deal with the fires.

    The surgeon's tent, a dull off-white, is marked as such by the prosperity character in green paint, the Realm symbol for medicine and the Immaculates of Sextes Jylis.

    SAGACITY: The official sobriquet of the Immaculate Dragon Sextes Jyllis is He Who Hath Strewn Much Grass.

    You chuckle to yourself.

    LILY: "You alright there, lady?"

    "Yeah, I'm good."

    Lily pushes open the heavy canvas tent flaps and ushers you through. The interior smells of blood, bile and antiseptic herbs. You see a pair of monks working on an man with his legion coat cut away to reveal an arrow sunk deep in his chest. Presumably this is the casualty Lily referred to.

    A matronly woman with pale brown braids approaches.

    SURGEON: "And who is this now? Looks like you've already given her a once over, girl."

    LILY: "She's got a deep cut to the side, mother, over her kidney. She needs stitched up."

    Mother? You notice that the older woman has the same warm brown eyes as her daughter.

    WAR: Family in war camps isn't that uncommon. This surgeon might be a retired legionary herself.

    SURGEON: "Well, go on then, get that big coat off and let me take a look at it."

    You move to remove your gambeson, only to find your fingers swollen and stiff. It's hard to grasp the collar.

    LILY: "Wait, is your left arm broken too?"

    "Fractured ulna, clean break. The swelling is troublesome."

    SURGEON: "Idiot girl, why didn't you splint her forearm?"

    LILY: "I didn't know it was broken, she didn't say anything!"

    The surgeon turns to you.

    SURGEON: "Lady, is there anything else you need, before we continue?"

    [ ] I need some breakfast.
    [ ] I need some clothes.
    [ ] I need a haircut.
    [ ] I need a bath.
    [ ] I need more drugs.
    [ ] I need to know your name.
    [ ] I need to know my name.
     
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    • I love that even while Vesper is being badass and making sensible decisions she's a disaster about it. "Oh right, the medical professionals might want to know about my broken arms."
     
    For A Better World 51
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    • BeepSmile said:
    [X] I need some breakfast.
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    "I need some breakfast."

    Your stomach gurgles obligingly to reinforce your point.

    SURGEON: "When was the last time you ate, lady?"

    "Yesterday morning. No, wait, I had a couple of bites of an apple last night."

    She sighs.

    SURGEON: "Lily, go get some food for the lady."

    LILY: "But I'm needed back at the line! I was only meant to bring her here."

    SURGEON: "Don't you but me! Off with you now, make yourself useful. And wipe your face!"

    LILY: "Alright, fine. It'll just be something plain, lady, they don't give out the fancy stuff for the asking."

    "Plain's fine. Thank you Lily."

    She gives you a tight smile at the thanks and bows out of the tent.

    SURGEON: "Now, let's get you out of this getup and stitch you up, will we?"

    She helps remove your gambeson. At her insistance, she also removes the rest of your clothes.

    SURGEON: "Don't want to get any more blood on them, do we?"

    Fincher's tunic, already ragged, now has more holes than fabric, and is soaked dark with blood. You feel a stab of sadness for the destroyed gift.

    "I didn't get your name."

    SURGEON: "I didn't get yours. You could just be some local stray my daugher picked up."

    "I'm Vesper. I'm probably an imperial magistrate."

    IRIS: "I'm Iris. I'm definitely a surgeon. Here, take this to bite down on."

    Iris holds up a tight roll of leather for you to bite down on. You do so, feeling an undefineable satisfaction. It tastes faintly of alderwood, presumably from when it was oiled. She swabs the wound to clean it as best she can, then, removing a roll of silken thread from her kit, she begins suturing your wound together.

    It feels odd, like she's pinching you inside your body, which in a sense she is.

    After that, she examines your forearm. The hunter's claw didn't strike you directly, but the force of his palm caused a deep contusion and impact laceration, an enflamed depression in your forearm that steadily drips blood. Iris tuts, applies a thin green paste over the wound, then bandages it, splints the forearm and bandages it again.

    IRIS: "While we're here, I should replace those other bandages you have, they're all fouled up."

    You shrug your assent, mind already distant.

    IRIS: "You know, the leather bit is supposed to quiet your screaming from the pain."

    "Whth pthn?"

    She roughly pulls the bit out of your mouth.

    IRIS: "The pain that normal people feel when they have thread pulling their flesh together, lady."

    "Oh, right. Can I have that back?"

    IRIS: "No."

    Iris works to redress your bandages. You look to your fellow patient and the furtive monks standing over him.

    "Will that man make it?"

    IRIS: "Not likely, lady. Arrow's nicked his heart, he's bleeding into his chest."

    "Can I help?"

    IRIS: "Nope. Even if you're the best medic alive, your hands are all messed up right now, you'd be useless in surgery."

    "Right."

    IRIS: "Why, feeling responsible?"

    "I tried to help as many as I could, but one of them still got hurt."

    IRIS: "That's going to happen. If it helps your conscience any, I got told to expect a wave of casualties from a front with my daughter on it. I'm blessed to have only you two in here, begging your pardon for your misfortune."

    As if on cue, Lily returns, holding a lightly steaming wooden bowl. As instructed, she has wiped her face.

    LILY: "It's just congee, they cleared everything up after mess. I wrangled you some ginger flakes for it."

    "That sounds great."

    IRIS: "Anything else you need, lady?"

    [ ] I need some clothes.
    [ ] I need a haircut.
    [ ] I need a bath.
    [ ] I need more drugs.
    [ ] I need to know my name.
    [ ] I don't need anything.
     
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    • I like how Blasé Iris is about our weirdness. But it does mean that we have to up our game around her to see if we can get her to acknowledge it.
     
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