Umbertiel, part 2 (Inquisition)

[Graybeard]

Two large men who'd been approaching Maduin and Desiree, their demeanors not friendly, paused at Maduin's words.

"What be he sayin'?" one asked the other, puzzlement on his face.

The second man applied his obviously formidable intellect to the question. "He be sayin', be throwin' water an' prayin'."

"Oh." The two men returned to a bucket line.

Actually, the need for "throwin' water" seemed to be diminishing. It was too late to save the stables; they were going to be a total loss. The efforts to save the surrounding buildings seemed to be working, though. At least no buildings had smoke coming off them, and the embers weren't flying as fast and furious now as earlier.

It shouldn't have been too surprising, then, that Bishop Cyrus chose this moment to appear at the scene (he was a high mucky-muck, after all), sprinting as hard as a none-too-fit-looking 70-year-old man could sprint, his face red. "What is going on here?" he panted as he came to a stop ... and then he turned to Maduin. "You! Did you have something to do with this, you -- you --" He coughed and tried again. "You -- Tsui --"

However, that was as far as he got before his face underwent a color change, from crimson to an ashen gray. His eyes got wide, and his face went from sweaty to clammy ... just as he clutched his chest.

"My heart," he managed to gasp out, before he slumped to the ground, his breathing becoming ever more rapid and labored.

[Drusia]

However, that was as far as he got before his face underwent a color change, from crimson to an ashen gray. His eyes got wide, and his face went from sweaty to clammy ... just as he clutched his chest.

"My heart," he managed to gasp out, before he slumped to the ground, his breathing becoming ever more rapid and labored.

Oh shit!

"Don't let her move her leg," I yell at the nearest person, "The bone is still broken - keep her still!" Without waiting to see if anyone complies, I scramble over to the old man.

A heart attack. I've never seen one before, but older healers have described them to me. They aren't common in Snamish - elven blood, maybe? Or the primarily fish-based diet? Anyway, most of the heart problems in Snamish are congenital defects - Errant flaws we can't detect. The usual result is sudden, unstopable death.

This is different. A blood clot stuck in the heart somewhere, blocking blood-flow to the muscle itself, not the rest of the body. If the clot isn't removed, the heart will die. Problem is, not even the most skilled healer can go in and remove it without killing the patient. The body has natural mechanisms for dealing with clots, but they take time, and when you're heart is dying you don't have any time.

So that's what I have to give him.

I press my hands against his chest and cast the healing spell again. Healing magic is energy - and so is blood. So long as I keep healing his heart, the clot won't kill it. Moreover, the healing spell will speed up his natural ability to break up the clot. All I need to do is keep healing his heart until the clot breaks up and moves out of the way.

Of course, I have no idea how long that will take. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? I can't keep this spell up for much longer. That broken bone was exhausting - and I'm not even finished with it yet! - and this is harder still. I can't stop - as soon as I do, the muscle will begin to starve again.

"Anilis, please, help me," I beg softly. Please....

-- Desiree

OOC: It doesn't rain, but it pours....

[Graybeard]

A small crowd quickly formed around the stricken bishop, and an observer might have noted that apart from a few old women, most were watching with detached curiosity rather than horror or even concern. Yes, a few of the older spectators were praying fervently (and loudly) for Luminosita to save their beloved priest. If he was "beloved" of most of the town, however, it certainly wasn't obvious, and indeed, many of the crowd that had formed to fight the fire continued to throw buckets of water onto the destroyed stable (probably a futile exercise) or surrounding buildings (maybe not).

The crowd parted, and a tall young priest wearing the usual Orthodox robes stepped up to Desiree. "I'm a healer, ma'am -- miss," he hastily corrected himself after a fairly obvious glance at Desiree's left ring finger. "Let me take over here while you rest and recuperate." There was authority in the man's voice, and he knelt and began to pray, magic flowing from his fingertips into the body of the critically ill man.

[OOC: This guy is available for adoption as a PC. See note in OOC thread. We can do without him, but if anybody is interested in joining the game and taking him on, his future could be ... interesting. We'll return to what Sister Rose is learning from the cat, if anything, shortly...]

[Drannin]

Argus took a deep breath and wiped his forehead, relaxing his grip on the magic as well. Everything seemed to be under control. The blaze was faltering, the injured were being seen to... It was a shame they couldn't have kept the magic a bit more under wraps, but to hell with it. They'd be leaving soon enough, and let the people gossip after their departure. At least they'd be alive to do it.

Anyway, things seemed to have died down, it multiple senses. Casting his gaze around, Argus noticed Harker slinking around out of sight. The familiar caught his eye and gestured to the church, roughly at Sister Bree's quarters. The meaning was clear: Rose was up there, was he going to investigate, or what?

Apparently, Argus was, if only to let her know that the Bishop was having a heart attack which may or may not be under control.

Well, alright. He was also quite concerned about Rose running into a magical booby-trap and wanted to be there to make sure she was all right.

On his way back to the church, Argus passed by Lillith. "I'm going to check on Rose. Do you have a grip on things here?"

[Sareth]

"Yes, I think so. Brad gave everything to help these people. He's out cold from the effort." She smiled and gently brushed the man Eli was holding with her fingers. "I'll go with him back to the hotel and see that he's taken care of. Go take care of Rose, father."

Argus caught the slightly odd way Lillith gave that final little comment. But before he could quite parse out what she meant by 'take care of' the girl was off, following Eli and Brad to the hotel.

[Graybeard]

The newcomer continued to pump healing energy into the body of Brother Cyrus, sweat beginning to form on his face and his breathing speeding up. Finally he straightened up, panting.

"There," he said. "That should stabilize him for the time being. It's still a dangerous time, though. He'll need continuing attention." That was enough for the crowd; they dispersed and went back to dealing with the fire, although by now things had reached the point of separating into buildings that were clearly destroyed (the stables) and buildings that would clearly survive (everything else).

He turned to Desiree, open puzzlement on his face -- puzzlement, and maybe something else that wasn't as easy to define. "And who are you? Whoever you are, thank you ..."

-----------

Sister Rose's minor cosmetic magic also was enough to do the trick; the cat emerged timidly from under the bed and moved to the saucer, lapping up cream.

Empathy magic doesn't work well on animals, she thought. They're just so much rooted in the present, and their emotions are so un-subtle. But let's try. However, when she directed the spell at the cat, the result was just as she thought it would be: immediate, intense gratitude (for the cream and the distraction both, she thought), tinged with suspicion, and in the background, a sadness, a mournfulness for the death of her mistress. All very much as expected, and none of it shedding any light on what had happened here. If she could talk ... but she can't.

The spell was still up when Rose became aware of footsteps in the hallway, and loud (and decidedly irreverent) voices; stretcher bearers come to take the body away for preparations, from the sound (and the feel) of their conversation. Apparently whatever was going on outside had settled down to the point where this unpleasant little errand had priority again. She turned away from the cat to meet the men who would be at the door momentarily ... and that was when she discovered that she'd done a much better job of making herself into a double for Sister Bree than she'd given herself credit for. A much better job.

There was a clattering noise as the stretcher bearers reached the door and dropped the stretcher, gaping at Rose with their mouths open and horror on their features. Both made the Sign of Luminosita, and one managed to choke out, "A-a-a g-g-ghost ... Luminosita protect us!"

Now the incongruous sound of two men screaming echoed in the hallway as the men fled at top speed, leaving Rose standing alone ... and thinking oh, crap. She quickly changed her face back to her own, but of course, it was too late ...

[Jack Rothwell]

"There" Eli said, lowering the unconscious Brad on the bed in his room and a wiping away the thin sheen of sweat that had gathered on his forehead. "I should head back and make sure everything's under control." He looked at Lilith. "Coming?"

OOC Writers block /OOC

[Drannin]

Argus walked through the halls of the church, looking for Rose, when two men came screaming down the hall. Quite literally. A stunned Argus just stared as they lurched up to him.

"G-g-ghost! GHOST! Sister Bree has come back from the dead to haunt us!" Shouted one

"She was feeding her CAT an everything!" Wailed the other.

Argus stared at the men, quivering with fear. He ad an idea what probably happened, and decided to deal with it. By slapping the two men hard across their faces.

Shock turned to outrage. "Now see here!" yelled one of the two men. "What was tha-"

"Are you certain of what you saw?" Argus asked blandly.

"What... of course! It was Sister Bree! She was feeding her cat..."

"And how would a ghost feed a cat, pray tell?" There was a moment of awkward silence at this, as the two men seemed to question what they had seen. Finally, one of them seemed to have a revelation.

"She's walking dead! Luminosita cast her back into her body, and now she seeks her flesh!" The two men ran off screaming, leaving Argus there to sigh wearily. Well, to hell with it then. Let the town haveit's ghost story. Shrugging it off, he continued through the church, eventually finding Rose in a room where she was crouching over a small black cat.

Argus knocked on the doorframe gently. "Heads up. A story about Bree the Walking Dead is soon to spread throughout town. It stands to grow with every re-telling."

[Sareth]

"No," Lillith responded gently. "I should keep an eye on Brad. Thank you for bringing him here. I don't think I'd have managed on my own. Go on back and help. I'm sure Desiree could use your presence." She smiled.

Turning away she wetted a cloth, folded it, and set it on Brad's forehead. "Silly man," she whispered, still smiling. She bent down and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek then sat down on the bed next to him.

[Drusia]

The crowd parted, and a tall young priest wearing the usual Orthodox robes stepped up to Desiree. "I'm a healer, ma'am -- miss," he hastily corrected himself after a fairly obvious glance at Desiree's left ring finger. "Let me take over here while you rest and recuperate." There was authority in the man's voice, and he knelt and began to pray, magic flowing from his fingertips into the body of the critically ill man.

"Thank you, sir," I say, breathless, "But there is a woman - I should tend to her." I don't know if he hears me - he's deep in concentration. I walk, stumbling, back over to the woman. She's awake; two townsfolk are keeping her still. I kneel beside her again.

"This is going to hurt," I warn her. As I cast the spell, she cries out in pain. Knitting bones isn't easy, and I'm not at my best anymore. "I'm sorry," I murmur. "Be strong - it will be overwith soon."

-- Desiree