• Completed • Starting out on the wrong foot?

A curious old Sev'ryn man known simply as Doc, wishes to study more of the local poisons and has been asking for any assistance. Many seem wary of him and what he does in his secluded shack and avoid the man outright. Recently, A young man by the name of Myc'fli, has gone missing and rumours have circulated Doc was involved somehow. Would Oonah be curious enough to investigate this man or even help him with his studies? what happened to Myc'fli?

Here is the City in the Trees. Desnind, home of the Immortal Moseke and much more! All IC writings in Desnind go here.
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Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
1, Vhalar, 718
Desnind


Oonah was becoming more comfortable at the idea of mingling with the townsfolk since making a solid connection with some of the Sevir citizens, namely her new friend Qit'ria with infant daughter Caza'ria. In such a short time she felt herself growing more protective of them, caring for them. Why she'd even offered to travel with them. Partly it was, admitted if only to herself, that Qit'ria's... condition... intrigued her. Magic apparent. A whole 'nother virtually unknown realm in her experience. Still, with the different changes that had overcome her friend, Oonah knew she wouldn't be able to truly learn the Sev'ryn anatomy or how to treat them until she got to know more – normal - people. There was also a chance see what their healers might be able to teach her. It wasn't easy though, after having cleared the thick wall of trees surrounding the city and moved into its streets. She'd never felt so exposed. If she could only bring herself to walk boldly rather than scamper within the shadows of buildings.

With a little forethought the Tunawa had asked Qit for a map with marks indicating locations of places known for medicine. She glanced at the crudely drawn parchment often then turned the corner of a rustic building to stop dead in her tracks. Gap jawed she looked up and Up and UP at a grandly stilted structure with sun-sparkly windows built around the tops of trees. Oloravu Slosneppe - The Medicine House. It was so fully and utterly... constructed. She'd never seen anything so unnatural in her life. All sharp angles with nothing natural left but the grain of lifeless wood. It Was Very Impressive and quite ugly. When she finally pulled her look from the distressed architecture she noticed how busy the place was, all the people coming and going. Healthy, sick, hurt, angry, frightened yet each as focused and deliberate as ants in line coming or going to an ant hill. Anxious fingers twisted the parchment map, maybe she wasn't quite ready for this …

Plan B? Perhaps there would be a medicine woman or hedge doctor near that she might relate to better? Straightening the map with shuddery fingers she looked to a few other X's scattered upon it and tried to remember what Qit had said about each. A pair of sisters, an old recluse or the town's mid-wife. Thinking hard, there had been something shady about one but which one? And which house? Shrugging she stepped back into the shadow of a corner, picked an X, turned and headed toward the outskirts of town.

Oohna began to feel much better as she approached a small hut-like house nestled more closely within the cover of trees. Stronger in her element, more confident. Hitching her satchel (filled with sundry items such as various small sample vials, a jar of mixing base, and her mother's journal) higher upon her shoulder, Oonah patted the blow gun and darts strapped to her barked thigh, pursed her lips and blew a sharp whistle toward the house.

Whoever would come out might overlook her as she blended rather well into the back ground, and who would think to look low first? Then she would wave and hail, "Hello! I'm looking for a healer."
Last edited by Oonah on Sat Nov 10, 2018 3:08 am, edited 4 times in total. word count: 568
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Re: Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
Dan'Yal puttered about the hut. His gnarled fingers shuffled through old books rearranging them in some order know only to him. Now and again he'd thumb open a book's pages to grumble as his fingers traced a line of words before dabbling a dance upon his bottom lip. His single room hovel sported a small sleep pallet, side-table and chair, and a wooden box organizing worn clothing and shoes. The walls were hung with parchment diagrams and book shelves. The shadowy rafters supported drying herbs among various mobiles of bones, shells, and feathers. There was a desk - overlarge for the space - behind which a shadowbox of vials reflected lamplight onto parchment pages, quill pens, a sharpening blade, and mortar and pestle. The place portrayed a sense of organized rumple. A pot of rabbit stew percolated over the cook fire, spreading a warm aromatic flavor into the air, nearly masking the odors of the dried herbs, musky old man, and something slight, a hint of Not Right.

At the cook stove he poked about the coals to situate another log, stirred his dinner; and just as he leaned in to sample his fare, a sharp whistle shattered the peace. Since the Medicine House had opened he'd gotten a lot less visitors. It made it tougher not being able to barter for his services, but in the long run he much preferred not being bothered. Well, he'd see what they wanted and either help them out or run them off.

Wiping his hands clean Dan'Yal pushed open the door, squinted about the perimeter of his yard and focused on a rather large twig, nearly a branch, waving in the wind. No wait. There was no wind. Squinting a closer look he whistled low under his breath. Twas a blooming Tunawa! The bloody gods were smiling down upon him today!

'Hey, Are you a healer?' he thought he heard it shout as a long-lost smile cracked his visage. "'Hey,' backacha! I've done me share of touching people up." After looking about to see if anyone else were there, he motioned the creature closer, "Call me, Doc. Ever'body does. Come on in and tell me what ye need."

Doc watched as the little creature, a lady one it seemed, stepped spritely to him offering a short bow. "I'm Oonah," she piped up and, not knowing any fine skill for socializing, got straight to the point. "I had been told a healer may still live here. Haven't had much experience with human types and need to learn a bit quick. I was hoping you might share a little knowledge with a fellow healer."

Better and better! "Welcome and certain sure I'd like to know what I can tell ye." Dan'Yal held open his door for Oonah to enter wondering why there was such a rush. He reached up to stroke a string of animal bones hanging over his head for luck before selecting a small log from the woodpile to set up as a seat for his guest on top of the worn edged desk. "I've got a question or few meself that ye, bein' Tunawa an all, might be able ta answer." Generally Tunawa were renowned for their knowledge of poisons. Learning more about it from someone as knowledgeable would be a wise move. He thought about his most recent 'complication' and knew his efforts hadn't gone entirely unsuspected. Doc's feet shuffled uncomfortably. What else had the Tunawa woman been told?

He watched as Oonah climbed a leg of his old desk to sit at level with him upon the log. Her bright quick gaze took in much about the room, tilted to consider the various vials and scrolls pinned to the walls and turned back toward the reclusive old man with seeming satisfaction. Surely no hint of suspicion.

Nodding as if a decision had been made, Doc asked, "Do ye know much 'bout poisons?"
word count: 672
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Re: Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
Oonah wriggled as a thrill tickled her spine. Her favorite subject. "Poisons? Why, yes. I've studied them often. Though, my mother thinks I know just enough to be dangerous," she explained candidly as she took in the room with one bright green eye and watched 'Doc' with the other. The room was ordinary and seemed typical of a healer's abode. Now that he had mentioned poison she noticed those hints: bottles in the shadowbox with crossed bone labels and a second mortar and pestle tucked below some drying herb bundles, tied with red cord not white, that were hanging in an out-of-the-way corner.

She sensed a bit of nervousness in the air similar to the feel when approaching a skittish animal. Not exactly fear, but certainly not ease. Polite curiousness, her expression continued, as signals danced between her brain and heart and she took a singular long breath. His nervousness was something more than that of the innocent animals she had experienced.

Doc pulled his chair back with a rough graze sounding on the wooden floorboards. The man's ensuing smile at her answer seemed a touch greedy, but she wanted to know more too. He tipped his chair back upon its hind two legs before planting all four upon the floor again, leaning forward deliberately. "What plant might be used to treat minor aches and chest congestion?" He said with challenge in his eyes.
"Easy, common, useful. Horseradish, as a root poultice." It didn't take her a trill to fire back.

"What use can be Sweet White Clover?" Doc throws again.
Oh, that one was a bit tougher. Oonah settled back thinking through the pages of her mother's journal. Another common plant but there was more... "White clover tea for aches and gout but, no. That's not it." A vine parted her lips and brushed across them, "I don't know Sweet White Clover without a little research," she admitted.

Doc leans back and instructs, "Sweet white clover for ulcers such as from spider venom or infected flesh and for lowered blood pressure; but too much will cause too much bleeding." She nodded with anticipation to confirm such with her notes. Drawing another long breath she felt a little less confident. How many wrong answers did she have before being excused?

"Tell me a plant that is more deadly than healthful." A broad question.
Oonah wondered how much he really knew or if he were just reaching."Truth is that often too much of any one thing can be dangerous." She thought back on the balances that her mother always preached. "But there are many such as 'Lambkill' deadly if ingested undiluted or 'False Hellebore' with many uses but the roots are fatally toxic."

His next question came with a shift of his eyes that made her feel rather uncomfortable as her now dark brown ones slid that direction to see what he was looking at. Their looks upon the back wall of the hut traveled somewhere beyond and unknown to her. Turning back to face her, a bead of sweat trickled from his recessed-hairline, "Do you know a cause for diahrrhea, vomiting And pissing blood, convulsions, and coma?" He didn't need to say 'death' as whatever it was naturally lead to that foregone conclusion.

A question much more specific than the previous question had been broad. It felt focused and direct of intent. Although intrigued at the apparent trauma, Oonah became quite wary. This was leading somewhere serious...
Reference
'Peterson Field Guides', Medicinal Plants and Herbs, 2000.
word count: 603
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Re: Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
"Truth? I rarely see patients as sick as that." Now that she thought about it she realized she'd never let anything under her care get that ill. Her goal had always been to find the quickest way to put a creature out of its misery so they normally didn't last that long. "It would help knowing more about the patient and circumstance." She paused as causes, cures, and endings jumbled about in her head. "But I'm sure there are many naturally potent causes and many more concoctions that could be brewed that would be that dreadful."

Shaking her head at the suffering or the kind of suffering or thinking something else entirely, Oonah pondered for a bit then looked up quite directly, "Why do you ask?"

Oddly, Doc's spine stiffened as his eyes slid again toward the back of the hut. "Ah, um, no reason but than ta see what ye might say." Her chest lifted and fell in a deep breath . His answer sounded lame to her ears which made her nervous. Was he lying? Did he know the answer or was he fishing for one?

With no additional information given, the Tunawa spoke slowly considering each word, "K. We might assume that it would be a natural cause from within this region. And the patient most likely Sev'ryn."

He harrumphed noncommittally, lifting a forarm to wipe across a damp brow then turned to shuffle anxiously through some loose pages on the desk as if looking for answers. Almost thoughtlessly her hand brushed lightly across her thigh, sliding over the smoothness of her dart gun. The sense of comfort at finding it near brought awareness to the action as she quickly moved her hand to tightly grasp the bend of her knee instead. Thank Moseke that Doc's back had been turned. What was she thinking? Then it hit her, he wasn't meeting her eyes.

After another heaving breath to calm herself Oonah continued, "It would be nothing common or easy to guess, otherwise there would be no challenge in asking. My knowledge lies mostly in herbs, but I know my mother would suggest we also consider earth, air, water, and minerals."

His gaze jumped to hers then darted away as if to hide what was within; but Oonah noticed the gleam, quickly there then gone. She'd seen that look before in the eyes of animals - a near panic at the thought of being trapped. Dread washed through her as she pushed herself to her feet and whispered in accusation, "What goes on here? What have you done?"
word count: 440
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Re: part 2Re: Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
'What have you done?' At her words a cold wave washed down his body. He felt his ears, face, then hands go cool as his blood pressure dropped. All seemed damp chill one bit then points of heat blossomed throughout as his heart began to buck and race sporadically. Then something tightened in his chest. Stretching against a sudden tenseness from his shoulders to his jaw, Dan'Yal staggered back into his chair, grabbed his chest with one hand and with the other pointed to thee bottles upon three separate shelves. He gasped, "Ginger, Turmeric, and Cinnamon, quickly."

Delayed by a blink then jaw drop of realization, Oonah leapt into action darting to a nearby pot. Pushing a flat palm to its side and finding it luke warm she shouted, "Pour a cup if you can!" Without stopping to see if he could or not, she raced back to the shelves to pull the rather large vials, which clattered to the desk top at her feet, from their perches. Pulling her knife free, she pried the cork from each vial and turned only to startle back a step as Doc plunked a mug of tepid water down next to her. Doc then tipped a generous dose of finely ground powder from each into the mug.

With little more than a brief swirl to stir, Dan'Yal, swigged it down in large gulps. "What happened? Are you ok? Why Ginger, Tumeric and Cinnamon?" At the Tunawa's barrage of questions he patted his hand downward for patience and settled back into his chair to wait and see. Fortunately it seemed it was a small attack this time as he was beginning to feel better already.

Thinking as he recovered, while Oonah concentrated on watching his physical condition, Doc realized that something wasn't right. He had been asking for information about town and had welcomed the opportunity of a Tunawa at his door, but each question he asked had made him feel first nervous and then more and more anxious. Her last question, likely suspicion but it seemed an accusation, had sent a stab of guilty fear through him; irregardless of the fact that he had intended to tell her all along. If his weak heart hadn't intervened he would have dashed to the door to get away. It didn't make any sense to him but he had a more pressing situation to attend to at the moment.

Finally bracing himself almost upright Doc chuffed a deep cleansing breath and offered a shaky smile to the Tunawa who sat back with eager impatience. "Thanks be for ye aid, Oonah. Twas only a mild Heart Ache this time." She would notice his return to a more natural color and breathing. "The ginger, turmeric, and cinnamon help me blood flow smoother. Then me ole heart don have to work so hard ta keep me goin'."

He saw unanswered questions begin to pile up within her reflective eyes and knew they could talk about heart aches all night, but time was growing short and he still hadn't come clean.

word count: 540
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Re: part 2Re: Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
Her suspicions were sidetracked as she watched the old man recover from his fit, 'heart ache' he'd called it. Fascinated, Oonah counted off the old man's reactions - from his face going bleached to ash, to hot patches blooming in his cheeks like rose petals on snow, then eventually back to a more healthy tone of flesh. Concern had finally overcome clinical interest when his knurled hands grasped at his chest and an ague seemed to have taken his breath and make him tremble. She couldn't wait to find a private moment to check her mother's notes and add a few of her own about the herbs and spices she'd helped him concoct.

Thin brows rose high at his definition of a 'mild' ache. How bad could it get? What had set his weak heart off? He had been distressed... Would there be a way to give the herbs more quickly? Could someone perhaps snort the fine dust - like sneezing pollen? What if….? A growing list of questions were all but forgotten by the interruption of his next words calling her back to the matter at hand.

"I'm doin better now and there is still a question I haven't answered ye." Doc settled in for a short disturbing story. "Well, ye mentioned water and tis the only thing I can think of. I've been brewing tonics from a spring out back. The water has a unique flavor and, distilled with a small concoction of healthful herbs, seemed ta make people feel better. Why, one good lady swears it helps her complexion. Selling and trading it keeps me going as its a cheaper cure for the folk than goin ta the House, ye see?"

Any anxieties, fears or guilt about the situation seemed to have fled as the old man now simply appeared resigned. He explained further, "But here lately this feller, Myc'fli, has come more often for more tonic. Must have been hurtin pretty bad ta go through it so quickly. Anyhow, he returned ta me two days ago with terrible bowels. I tried herbs and mixtures on him with no improvement. Yesterday he fell about with shaking and today he has no woken up. If somewhat happens to em and the town folk found out they'd tar, feather, and string me up as a quack."

Oonah's head tilted upon realizing the context in Doc's last sentence, 'if somewhat happens'; her eyes widen, understanding that the patient must still be alive and maybe she could help. She leapt to her feet at her first idea - her own natural abilities. "The tonic? Do you have more?"

Nodding, he reached into a cabinet to pull forth a pint bottle, brown glass with fluid swilling about as a shadow within, and set it in front of her. "Pour me dram?" Concern etched his face, "Lady, tis not safe...," but continued to pour the dram into a small vial.

Oonah waved away his words with graceful fingers, "Tunawa are capable of taking in a poison to grow an antidote." His eyes lit as hoped bloomed and she felt bad to add the rest, "but it takes a while and I'm not sure it will work with water." Without seeing his reaction she grabbed the large vial in both hands and tipped it against her pearly teeth with a clink. She knew it likely Myc'fli didn't have 3 trials to wait for her to cultivate a cure even if it did work with water.

"Now all we can do is wait. Why don't you show me to Myc'fli?"
word count: 613
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Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
Oonah looked across to the still young man laying on a pallet of blankets on the floor of the small woodshed turned sick room just out of sight behind Doc's hut. The air smelled bad. She wasn't used to seeing patients in an enclosed area and was startled at how the stench lingered. "Leave the door open for light and freshening please," words spoken over her shoulder as her stormy eyes remained on Myc'fli. His skin was dry and flush, likely dehydration; and no wonder if he had vomiting and bad bowels yesterday with no fluids today. Ragged breaths shuddered within his chest. He was unresponsive to her touch, even through the sharp jab of a twiggy finger beneath one of his ragged fingernails.

Her mind naturally started categorizing poisons - white snakeroot, hemlock, night-shade - all would end life quickly but - nausea, convulsions, paralysis - their effects were as dreadful as this young man had already suffered. She couldn't bear the thought of putting him through more of the same. What had been in that water that could be as terrible as those natural poisons? She turned to Doc sternly with more than a touch of accusation in her tone. "Why have you not reached out to those within Oloravu Slosneppe for aid?"

Dan'Yal's gaze went stricken before his eyes dropped to the toe of his scuffed boots and he stammered, "It was me fault ye see? I wanted ta make him better and hain't yet stopped looking for answers." He looked up solemnly, "I swear I had one more book to go through then I was gonna get him there."

Oonah scowled as she found familiarity in his answer. One more book, one more trial, one more hope. At least Doc had been driven to find a cure rather than a quicker way to finish the young man off. There was nothing she could say but she knew what she had to do. Pray.

Moseke, mother, shining bright,
Bless this man through the night
I ask thee receive my loving call,
Unto this place that thy energy shall fall.
I invoke thy wisdom by thy bower,
Within cast I by love and power.


A whisper of knowing fleeted across her thoughts.

"Do ye have any plan?" Doc had listened patiently but interrupted as soon as her words ended.

"Silence!" She hissed with a glare having had enough of his questions and burdened by needing to make a decision for him. "On your life, do not interrupt what I do next."
word count: 442
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Starting out on the wrong foot?

Tree Talk Xanthean Common
What was she to do next? What did Moseke ask of her? Closing her eyes, Oonah listened again but heard nothing. Her face grimaced slightly then calmed as she brought her hands up to rest, one on the young man's temple and the other on his chin, nearly the span of her reach.

Within her chest over her heart the sigil, her blessing, a small kernel of a spot, began to shimmer a yellowish green. She ignored a gasp from above her; but watched instead, in her mind's eye, vining tendrils begin to twist and branch across the young man's heaving chest, down his arms, snaking all the way to the end of his toes. Slowly the myriad of tendrils began to pulse back toward the connection of her hands, through to the mark over her breast to flare brightly as divine energy burned the toxins from within him up.

Oonah posed in stillness until she could feel, beneath her palms, how the man's breathing began to ease.

Peeking open one eye-lid, then the other she looked into Myc'fli's face seeing him still unresponsive but resting more naturally. Turning about she asked Doc curiously, "Did you see the vines?"

"Saw nothing but ye resting yer hands on his face and being still, except when ye, erm, eh, yer ...tit... began ta glow." She was startled as his face suddenly turned cardinal red and she worried that he'd had another heart ache, but he waved her back when she moved to offer aid. After a few bits of harrumphing and shuffling about he seemed to recover but decidedly didn't look into her eyes. Just like last time, but different.

Shaking her head in confusion she turned back to her patient feeling that there was something more. "Look closer. See if you see vines and branches grow across his body." Again, with slightly more confidence, Oonah closed her eyes to concentrate and placed her hands upon Myc'fli's unconsious face. Taking more than a few bits longer, and decidedly fainter in her mind's eye, she watched Moseke's blessing leach more toxins from his body. The young man groaned but still did not wake.

Feeling drained she looked up with a self-satisfied smile and brow lifted in query. "Seems the lad tis better, so whatever ye did worked but I didn't see a thing there on his body but yer hands. There was the ah... light...again, ye know."

She had hoped he could see what she had, if only for better proof that she'd done something special."It was Moseke's blessing. I only provided for her hands." Realizing Doc must not have a mark of healing, otherwise he wouldn't be in this predicament, she wondered if the doctors at the Medicine House would have many Blessings. The thought brought her back on task. "You must take him directly to Oloravu Slosneppe. I do not know how much poison has been burned from him or if he will live but he has a chance and there is where he needs to be."

His eye evasion ended with his look of fearful apprehension and she remembered his concern about being hanged, so she advised, "Honesty is better than the consequences of suspicion. Mistakes can be made. It is how we learn and grow."

~Epilogue~


The ink had set within her mother's journal upon pages written in Oonah's hand about heart aches, toxic plants and suspecting an unknown contaminate in the waters of a spring in Dresden. Three trials after her departure to Rharne with Qit, it is noted that no antidote growth occurred from drinking the tonic water leading to the assumption of 'no known cure' and an anticipation for the continued life of Myc'fli by natural detoxification through time with no further dosing. The final mark - a circled "?".

~~<~<@

It would be many seasons before Oonah's assumptions could be confirmed upon a return to Desnind.

Although ill for seasons, the lad had lived. Doc's acceptance as a healer immediately ended by directive of the administration within the Medicine House. With what little reputation he'd had ruined and no income, he had earned greater renown through his efforts to distill crystals from the contaminated waters of his spring. The refined minerals were introduced and marketed as an effective rodent killer; and was, it was whispered, gradually becoming a lay person's poison of ease. Doc's status had improved and he had become honest enough to grant her unasked for credit for her aid in the return of his relevancy - as a poisoner. His gratitude had been to ensure the rat poison was marketed as 'Oonah's Bane.'

She wasn't sure how she felt about her name tied to something that she hadn't directly created, but she couldn't help but be a little excited to be known for a poison.

"May blessed Moseke and my mother have patience for my soul."
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Re: Starting out on the wrong foot?

Here's your stuff!


Name: Oonah

Knowledge:

non-skill Knowedge
NPC: Dan'yal 'Doc' a local healer turned poisoner
NPC: Myc'fli - a poisoned patient near death
Healing: Enclosed spaces contain unhealthy air
Healing: Tonics aren't always what they seem
Healing: Attempt at Tunawa antidote creation for arsenic unsuccessful

Skill Knowledge:
[Medicine: Sweet White Clover for ulcers, lowers blood pressure, increased bleeding.
Medicine: Recognize symptoms of heart attack
Medicine: Treating heart attack with Ginger, Turmeric, Cinnamon to thin blood, ease heart.
Poison: Recognize symptoms of Arsenic poisoning
Mark Ability: Understanding 'Moseke's Light' Blessing
Mark Ability: Understanding limitations of Moseke's Mark - reduced effect

Loot: N/A
Injuries/Overstepping: N/A
Renown: 20 pts. for association with rat poison product in Desnind
Collaboration: No
Magic Experience?: No

Points: 10
- - -
Comments: No worries on the word count, the total is well over the 1500 requested of any thread completion :)

This was a very good read. Just the right length for a longer short story. I'm glad the old man is alright and not the villain we may have been led to believe. Alls well that ends well.

Oonah is such a fascinating character, and so well written. I appreciate that you included the sources for your information, it really shows how meticulously you researched your reference materials. Well done!

If you feel I've missed anything or if you have questions about your review, please don't hesitate to send me a quick PM. Thanks!

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