• Completed • Let Them Live or Let them Die (Job Thread)

[Rose Greenwood]

10th Zi’da Arc 717 - Dusk

The scent of peppermint and the mild aroma of several other herbs filled the small room Rose was occupying within the Olọravu Slosneppe. The modest chamber was used as something of a pharmacy, filled with dried herbs, tonics and tinctures that awaited later use. The redheaded physician was enjoying a little down time between patients and had settled into the wonderfully repetitive but pleasant work of breaking down herbs and blending them into simple remedies for common ailments.

Warm sunlight drifted through the narrow window, leaving the room a little less chilled than it had been earlier. Rose smiled absently as she worked her mortar and pestle, grinding and pulverizing the fresh mint leaves that she had just stripped from a nearby plant. The mint itself would help soothe decongestion and inflammation but she was adding it more to cover the bitter taste of the feverfew she would be adding next. Feverfew could be irritating to the mouth if not administered with another herb to lessen the discomfort and cover the taste. Once she had a couple tablespoons of mint ground into a firm paste she added a large pinch of the aforementioned feverfew. Rose attacked the new contents in her mortar with fervor until it was reduced to a fine dust. Now came the best part, nimble fingers reached for a glass pot filled with a golden substance. Everyone knew honey always made things better. Quickly she spooned an overflowing heap into the bowl to sweeten the contents so they were bearable. She added a small splash of olive oil to turn the herbs and honey into a thinner mixture that could be dispensed from a container. Often, simple medicines like this were wonderful for treating a child or even an adult with a cold. However if the mixture was not sweetened or flavored with a pleasant herb like mint, some fussy patients wouldn't touch it. Rose dripped a finger in the mortar to get a sample of the contents, she took a quick investigative taste. At first the lovely sweetness of the honey and mint hit her taste buds, but they did only so much to cover the bitterness of the feverfew. Her lips pinched together with disgust as the sharp astringent flavor rolled over her tongue. Rose shook her head in disappointment, oh well at least she made an effort.

It was just as Rose began pouring the sticky green mixture into a small glass jar that one of the younger Sevir medicine women popped her head around the corner. “Pẹlẹv ies av kukuru kọv bäƙïn'cïkï äjọdun, dav dẹọdọ ke’u diuv.” (There is a man in room two, do what you can) She barked in Xanthea. “Tẹ tireaioang mwẹnẹndọ ke’ua bayyanannu ïtärä”(He only speaks your common tongue) she said while frowning slightly as she glanced at the tips of Rose’s fingers which were covered in the green sticky medicine. “Kalubale ke’ui ïsẹ!” (Clean yourself up!)

Rose snapped to attention when the medicine woman entered, listening intently as she was assigned a patient. “Hìtua dav!” (Will do!) she responded cheerfully. The medicine woman turned and left leaving Rose sticky and ill prepared for what was to come.

[Rose Greenwood]

After washing her hands and carefully braiding her hair back as to not interfere with her work, Rose made her way to the patient rooms. Gentle rays of sunlight bathed the inside of the medicine house in the orange light of dusk. Striding forward with purpose and excitement, nothing could prepare the young healer when she walked into the second room on the right of the hall. A man with dark ragged locks lay prone on a bed, His green eyes staring at the ceiling in what could only be described as unbearable pain. It was then that her amber brown eyes fell on the source of his misery. His left leg was bandaged but blood was seeping through the linen wrappings that adorned his calf just below the knee. Bruises and minor scratches crisscrossed his body. His skin was pale from blood loss even thought he had been given a compression bandage. It felt like she froze right in that moment, at a loss for what to do or who to seek help from. A young teenage nurse walked into the room holding a piece of parchment. She walked to the man’s bedside and helped him take a sip of water. The nurse handed Rose the piece of paper before promptly leaving the room.

“Hey!” Rose shouted after her. “I’m not sure I’m qualified for this!” She cried looking hopelessly at the wounded man.
“Tey'droa says this one is yours, do what you can for him.” The nurse shouted back in Common before disappearing around a corner.

Do what I can for him…? Rose thought to herself, what kind of instruction is that!?

“Um sir.” She said hesitantly, approaching his bedside, eyeing what was probably a foot long laceration running down the back of his leg. The dark haired middle aged man lethargically turned his head to her, his face nearly as white as snow, his lips bearing a blue tint.
“I’m here to help you.” She said hoping that the man could not see through her false positivity. The green robed physician glanced down at the paper in her hands; it listed a name and a brief description of what they believe to have happened to him.

“Carlin” She said with certainty. “It’s good to meet you. It says here that you were in a shipwreck, they found you on the shoreline.”
“Yes” he croaked in Common, not even bothering to look at her.

All of a sudden his eyes flared wide in dread “They say I’m gonna lose the leg…maybe die.” He cried pitifully, turning his face away from her.
Rose reached out and took his limp hand in hers.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” she whispered to herself.

[Rose Greenwood]

The young doctor had burst from her patient’s room at a hurried walk, panic reflected in her eyes. Rose had never dealt with a patient in such critical condition. Sure she had seen a plague before, but never a wound so grievous that every possible moment counted. Most of her work at the medicine house had been giving out medicine to sneezing children or salve to combat joint aches in the elderly.

In the name of the Seven, why would they give her a dying sailor with a mangled leg!?

Moment later the clattering of jars and glasses could be heard from the room Rose had been mixing herbs in, she rushed to dig up her medical kit and anything she could find to help Carlin. Glass bottles clinked as she reached haphazardly into a cabinet full of pre-prepared medicines. She hastily grabbed a large jar of turmeric paste for the wound dressing. Hopefully it would stave off infection and help clot the wound. She grabbed a thin vial of dark fluid marked for pain relief; it looked like some kind of opioid. It could be dangerous stuff but Rose was desperate to give him relief. There was another clay container that was marked as Night Scarf; she remembered using the medicine herself when her father was ill with Scarlet Lung. The memory stung with grief, she had used the medication as a sleep aid to help in her father’s passing. Brushing the recollection aside she snatched up the clay pot and began running back toward Carlin’s room. The other healers she passed looked at her like she was a madwoman, sprinting through the complex with her arms full of medications. Upon flagging down a passing nurse, Rose requested that clean water and fresh bandages be brought to the patient’s room. She was going to try attacking that terrible wound and stabilize him if she could.
Carlin looked at the ceiling blankly when Rose returned, his eyes half open as though he might be sleeping.
“Sir!” Rose said sharply in panic that the man had already passed.

Eyes blinked and the sailor met her gaze. “There’s nothing to be done Miss.” He coughed out. The half-blood doctor rushed over, dumping the contents of her arms on the floor on order to help him get to a cup of water on the side table. He took a long draught, the water dribbling down his chin to dampen his scraggly beard.

“I’ve seen less….kill a man.” He groaned, breathing heavily as he laid back down into the bed, wincing as his leg shifted.
His hopelessness was contagious; Rose’s expression fell before she began furiously picking up the items she had dropped. Stacking the medications on the side table and opening up her medical kit to pull out clean stitching needles and thread.
“I heard them talkin Miss.” Carlin said, looking a bit faint at the sight of the needles. “They said the Rot had probably set in. They wanted to take my leg. I wouldn’t have none of it!” The sailor moaned in dread. “My leg Miss! Have you ever seen a sailor with one leg?” He wailed miserably.
Rose tried to put on a smile as she sat the jar of turmeric salve on the bed beside the mangled leg along with her tools for stitching. “I thought all the sailors in stories were one legged,” she laughed gently; “You could get one of those spiffy peg legs everyone talks about”

A croaking laugh leapt from her patient’s throat “I think that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard since I got here Miss.”

Rose chuckled to herself, glad that he could laugh on a trial like this. She rose to pour another cup of water for him, but paused to look between the thin vial of the black colored opiate drug and the clay jar of Night Scarf. The latter might let him sleep long and deep, to spare him from the pain of stitching and redressing the wound, but the medication could was also likely to kill him if she gave too much. The Night Scarf was a gentler medication, it would relax him and make him drowsy but it might not be enough to relieve his suffering for the next few breaks. Out of familiarity Rose reached for the Night Scarf and distributed it into a small amount of water, she gave it a stir and helped him drink the wretched tasting stuff.

[Rose Greenwood]

Carlin drifted to sleep within the next half a break. His young doctor began drawing back the layers of the bandage; the cloth was soaked with blood and grime. Rose gagged at the smell when she removed the last layer of linen. A tiny part of her broke inside when she saw the green and black tinged flesh. Parts of the ugly wound were bright red with inflammation but so much of it was flush with gangrene. It was a horrific sight that would turn the strongest of stomachs. The red and green infected flesh reached all the way up his leg to his hip bone. He had gone septic; the sickened flesh was expanding slowly. It was too late to amputate the leg now.

Tears flooded her eyes; a bitter helplessness bloomed in her core. It was a sensation Rose had felt only once before. Hands shaking Rose put away her needles and began numbly dressing the wound with orange turmeric paste after cleaning out the dried blood in utter silence.
There was no helping this, there was no hope. How could you still call yourself a doctor when you were as helpless as your patient?

Apparently the young nurse had been standing in the doorway as Rose finished applying fresh bandages. She was so singularly focused on her task that the girl must have been standing there for a long while. Rose looked at the sailor as he fitfully slept before speaking.

“Why...?” she asked coldly before her words were interrupted by a choking sob.
“Why…ask me to do this….to see this?” she said while softly weeping, trying desperately not to wake her dying patient. Rose took his limp hand and squeezed it gently.

“Tey'droa thought it was time for you to see this.” The young woman said solemnly.

“I’ve seen death before.” Rose whispered vehemently, her tone bitter with anger. The dark haired nurse nodded.

“You have, but not like this. A violent, ugly death is something different.” She paused, a gleam of compassion alighting in her eyes.

“It was hard for me too, I’m sorry.” The woman began to step back into the hall to leave the young doctor to her misery.

“What am I supposed to do?” Rose said, turning to the door way, her eyes looking for any kind of guidance.
The nurse turned back and gave a weak twitch of a smile.

“Just do what you can.” She said softly. “And when that does not work…make sure you are with them until the end.” Rose turned away and bowed her head until it rested on the bed, her body trembling with unspent tears.

She held Carlin’s hand until he woke a couple breaks later, her eyes dry and her face more composed. Deep brown eyes met the sailor’s green eyes as he let out of moan of pain, his face contorting in agony.

“You should have let them take the damn leg sailor.” She said bitterly, looking at him with a knowing expression.
Carlin managed a sheepish grin before making a sad attempt at a chuckle. “Now…don’t be that way young miss. I like that leg, its done a proper job of carrying me around.”

Rose shook her head sadly, looking him in the eye with a genuine but terribly sad smile. “I’m so sorry Carlin.”

“I am too Miss.”

-----------------

Rose stayed by the sailor’s bedside into the late hours of the trial, talking to him when he had the strength to talk past the pain. It took a strength Rose didn’t know she had not to fall apart during those dark breaks. Slowly his breathing became difficult and he began to lose track of time, even acting as though he could no longer see her even when she was vigorously holding his hand. His perception became more and more addled as the pain grew worse. His leg had starting seeping blood again no matter how strongly they bound the wound. Near the middle of the night it was like Carlin was granted a few trills of clarity, and he began begging for it to end; promising all his worldly possessions and prayers to anyone that might listen and end his pain.

With trembling hands Rose Greenwood did what she had only done once before, but this time it was done with true intent. She picked up the mysterious vial of the black opioid drug, the one she was too terrified to give earlier because it may have meant death for her patient. Gingerly Rose poured a measured amount of the dark hued drug into a glass and mixed it with a bit of milk, honey and crushed mint leaves to cover what she assumed would be a terrible taste. Carlin was so lost in the madness of his misery it was as though he was already gone. With care Rose helped the pain crazed man drink the entire dose, her hand resting on the back of his head as she helped him lie down again.

Within moments he slowed in his distraught mumbling and his body began to relax. Rose stayed with him as he fell asleep for one last time, holding his thin pale hand tightly.

When the morning came, Rose awoke, having fallen asleep in her chair at Carlin’s bedside. He was gone; the room was empty save for her and the freshly cleaned bedding adorning the cot, waiting for the next patient.

[Muse]

Your review is ready!

This was a touching, tragic, well-written solo. I got to know all the NPCs through your beautiful writing, and maybe I got a little attached to the poor sailor who didn't make it. Rose is a lovely PC and I can't wait to read more!

Rose Greenwood

Points

XP:
10 | These points cannot be used for magic.

Fame:
+3 Doing your job even when it's hard, +2 Staying with the dying

Loot

N/A. Everything was done in the Order, so I'm not quite sure you can keep anything.

Injuries + Overstepping

N/A

Knowledge

Skill Knowledge:
Medicine: A spoonful of honey makes the medicine go down
Medicine: Pain can bring madness
Medicine: Sometimes it is better to help them die peacefully
Medicine: Dressing a wound
Caregiving: Holding their hand so they know they are not alone
Caregiving: Telling jokes lightens the mood

Other Knowledge:
N/A

If you've got a question or concern or if I've missed anything, don't hesitate to PM me!

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