Ren Norendel

[Alistair]

1st of Saun, Arc 717

Dear Me,

Ren.

Ren, oh yes, Ren. I think about him often. How absolutely disruptive he is - how I can hear his belligerent screaming as I operate on others, how he acts consciously and even subconsciously in a manner dedicated to my downfall. I think about the fact that his father is subsidizing his stay particularly because he knows who this boy is, and what he's capable of, yet refuses to admit it and avoids responding personally to my letters.

Ren, this sniveling little rube, has come to join the family of Kaelserad for what appears to be the long-haul.

But he's begun to change, because... lately... to his meals I have added bits and pieces of El'ganneth Rhovanion. He has become less content with his meals day-by-day, and instead, seeks something else. Vegetables no longer appease him - he now operates almost strictly on meats. He is beginning to feel a change, a distortion. The illness operative within him, causing for this perpetually high fever that barely seemed to graze him, has stilled. He no longer has any fever, and does not seem to possess a strong urge to spread the illness, likely because it has become - apparently - dormant.

Ren has become... quieter. Less vicious, instead more dependent. Somehow, my assumptions regarding Ren and Rhovanion were in fact correct. The treatment, perhaps improving with my recent adjustments, does not induce solely violence psychologically. I've begun to add pain-killing reagents to the mix, and even the occasional pinch of relaxation compelling drugs. While the dietary needs change, viciousness does not follow to quite the same degree... or at least apparently.

With Fridgar and Kais... Kleine, present, I'll begin to attempt a psychological and physical analysis of Ren Norendel von Lordaeron.

The doctor had everything prepared. Ren was, as usual, cuffed to the bed. This time however, he was moved to the main treatment room, with no other patients currently present. Alistair had prepared everything they needed, most in part a quill and parchment to record the boy's words over what would be something of a psychological interview. He decided that Fridgar would be the interviewer, since the boy was oddly taken to him, but of course kept keen on the idea of possibly rescinding this if necessary - if Fridgar was not asking the right questions, or properly rehabilitating him.

Regardless, the doctor was fully ready, wearing his fanciful silken brocade vest and his sleek, tight-fitting trousers. His handkerchief all in place beside his silk collar, the noble stood straight and quietly ushered his colleagues into the room. It was time to begin research on the possible recuperation of the subject, Ren Norendel.

"Kleine, Fridgar," Alistair began, "after today, we won't be administering any more of the Rhovanion mix I made. We're going to stop before it becomes an addiction. Considering it seems to have pacified him to some extent, and has frozen the progression of his... Yithnai-based affliction I presume, I believe we can work on treating the illness in its entirety so that when the effects of the drug are no longer present, he will still not revert to his need to spread the disease. I do not know if a Yithnai's psyche can truly be treated, but - we'll soon find out," the man stated, looking between the two.

"Fridgar, do you have an idea of what you're going to say to him? You need to get into his heart and... I don't know, figure something out. He needs to be brought back to humankind," the mage stated, biting his lower lip. "If that's possible."

[Varthakh]

"I don't know Kleine... Should I?" Fridgar asked in Haltunga, unsure as he stood next to the receptionist's desk. Unfortunately, Fridgar was made to wear clothes again. "I mean, sure, I've done a bunch of stuff for the horde, the major fracture to the north, the sack of Argos, the two Lurkers I destroyed with Aeon. But am I worthy of ascension? It might be a waste of time." He'd been debating whether or not to go to the ascension festival later, an event where Lotharen gather in Uthaldria’s square, seeking the honour of being made reborn.

"Maybe I should just try in Vhalar? it's only forty trials and I could get a lot done for the horde in that time... like... I don't know, kill more Lurkers? Maybe become a dire?" Fridgar shook his head. "Whatever the case, I need to be a reborn if I'm going to be the next Jackal," true enough. Had there ever been a non-blessed Lothar as a jackal? "If the creator recognises the efforts of a Lothar aspiring to be Jackal, then surely the other Lotharen do, too, right? besides, it was his idea that I join the Jeger anyway, or so Ganren said..."

He had plenty of reasons to go to the festival, but whether Kleine had grown bored of his inner conflict was uncertain. They didn't have time to further the discussion as Alistair called them, it was time for the psychological analysis of Ren Norendel. Fridgar nodded to the other Lothar before adjusting his clothes and following the origin of Alistair's voice.

Once they were ready, they were ushered into the room and Alistair gave them the brief of what to look out for and what to expect. For some reason, Alistair thought it would be funny to have Fridgar psychologically analyse someone. He, the dullest in the room had been given the task of curing the psyche of a deranged psychopathic, soulless creature. Was Alistair a sadist or did he expect a sledgehammer to do the job of a scalpel?

Fridgar cleared his throat and spoke in common, "given my extensive knowledge and countless breaks of research on the psychological normalities of the Biqaj and the effects of Lisirra's mark on the mortal psyche, not to mention my full understanding of the patient's affliction... I think I’ll start by asking his name or something?" Fridgar first spoke with heavy sarcasm, then retreated to the safety of uncertainty. Hopefully, Alistair wouldn't get mad about that. "I'm going to try and get to the bottom of his relationship with Lisirra, figure out stuff about his past. We can work from there on a solution, I think?" Fridgar asked, again uncertain.

"I really don't know, I'm only just good enough at patching up a wound, a flesh wound, not a full skeleton compound fracture... but for the brain..." This wasn't a lack of confidence, Fridgar knew his limits and this was way beyond him.

[Alistair]

Kleine stared at Fridgar intently and occasionally nodded as he spoke, sipping cold chai tea from a glass mug as the other Lothar vented his uncertainty regarding the Ascension Festival later totrial. "You totally should," the smaller man nodded, smiling faintly at his colleague and friend. "I mean, you've never gone to one, right? Even if you're not chosen, it's still a wonderful thing to see. Big, burly men scampering towards the Creator, who's... all smiling and happy, and they're sobbing their eyes out because they're going to see this world one more time, and then two more times, and..." Kaiser felt oddly emotional all of the sudden, having the strange need to wipe his eye. Sniffling once, he returned to form.

"Fridgar, I used to be someone pretty big," he admitted. "I was the Jarl of Muinne. When Thetros gave me my cycles of reincarnation, in that life, I wept for days and looked toward the future. It changed me. So much magic happens on those days - it's why so many people attend, even watching from rooftops and open windows. You should goooo," he recommended once more, patting Fridgar lightly with a bright grin.

At this point, Alistair came, looking towards the two men with a very focused and diligent expression. He was ready to do business - to begin Ren's treatment. Whether or not it was because he genuinely felt sympathy for Ren and wanted to amend his issues or because he wanted to get him out of Kaelserad was unknown. Regardless, his methodology was clear, and he'd organized the Yithnai's rehabilitation quite meticulously.

So of course, Fridgar's sarcasm irritated him slightly, but only slightly. Mostly, he understood his silent protest - Fridgar had no experience in anything involving psychology. And that was fine. It was always an apt time to learn, and genuinely one of the greatest things to do for an individual was to make them feel like they had others to support them. Even if Fridgar didn't like Ren, Alistair wanted Ren to feel that he did, to imagine that perhaps there were still worthwhile connections in this place, and this world. He needed to make that clear.

"Whatever you do, don't be harsh or antagonizing towards Ren. I'm not saying I expect you to, but I do need to make sure the first impression of treatment is received well. Any sign of harshness and he will immediately enter into a psychological frenzy, with his typical profanity and rebellious speech," the doctor pointed out. He'd observed these traits for some time now, and Ren's behavior was clear - much of it was in fact reactive, that Alistair had come to realize.

"You'll do fine, love. Just... try to see the humanity in him. We know he's not a monster like you ascertained - he's just... come to walk a different, darker path. We can change that," the mage nodded. Without further ado, he drew the two of them into Ren's room, Kleine watching quietly from the edge of the room just by the corner of the door frame. Immediately, Ren waved to the two lovers with the one free hand he possessed, as the other laid in metal shackles.

"Hey," he whispered. His white attire was damp - whether he'd drooled on it or cried on it was unknown. His eyes were narrow and his cheeks were moist, implying he had in fact been crying. Ren's lips were unusually broken however, and his skin was pale.

"Fridgar and Alistair, my two tormentors," he called them, smiling sarcastically. His tone was weak, however, and laced with great melancholy. This was not the same Ren they knew - the vulgar, detestable boy. He was different, even if only for this bit, within this break, lost beyond this trial.

[Varthakh]

Fridgar nodded in understanding as the other Lothar twisted his arm. His arms would cross and the edge of his index finger would press to his lips as he held his chin in contemplation. Kleine made a good point, it was a worthwhile thing to attend even if he didn't get recognised for his hard work but... "Ugh, it'll probably dishearten me if I don't get it. I worked so hard, you know? Pushed Boomer through he'll for it and all. I know I haven't been around long enough and whatever, but..." Fridgar groaned rubbing his head. "Fine, I'll go... If you come with me, Jarl of Muinne." Fridgar gave a slight tilt of his head, filled with sass. This was the ultimatum.

Regardless, they were called to Alistair, who appeared serious. He could tell that the doctor didn't appreciate his sarcasm, Alistair wasn't that difficult to read, especially not as his Havendal. The Lothar frowned with puckered lips, casting his eyes aside in recognition that he'd pissed off his lover. Regardless, Alistair Adamantly stuck to his guns. Maybe it was the dance of the graces getting him down? Or maybe it was his apparent fondness for the Yithnai?

Whatever the case, Fridgar was given his instructions; don't be harsh, don't antagonise. Easy enough, right? All he had to do was enter a Mr. Thorburn state of mind and he'd be set, right? Though whether Mr. Thorburn handled monsters well or not was a different story entirely. As for trying to see the humanity in him... Alistair was asking a bit much if Ren was anything like he'd seen him last. "I'll try, my love." Fridgar nodded, solemn. He certainly would try, to the best of his ability as he always did. Soon, they were let in to Ren's holding room where the Yithnai sat looking sorry for itself. Fridgar begrudgingly nodded, finding difficulty in the motion.

Ren greeted them with sarcasm which came as no surprise to him. Still, he'd been expecting it and didn't react quite as fiercely as he would have otherwise. Plus, the boy looked like he'd been crying, or drooling... It wasn't pleasant to look at, how could he scold the guy? "Good morning, Ren," Fridgar spoke calmly, avoiding eye contact as per usual. He then approached the desk at the far wall and collected some parchment, a quill and some ink before returning to the desk beside Ren Norendel.

"I'm going to be asking you some questions, please answer them to the best of your ability," he asked in a more serious tone. "What is your name?" he asked, a more basic question. "These first few will be oriental," the Lothar explained as he tipped the tip of the quill in the ink and got to work writing his details;

Name: Ren Norendel
Age: 18
Race: Biqaj/Yithnai
Clan: Stahlmark

He wrote it all without asking in advance. "Your date of birth?" He asked, putting down the quill and clasping his fingers as he rested his forearms on the table. "Your race and clan?" Fridgar provoked another reply after the Biqaj had finished answering. Whether he'd answered truthfully or not, Fridgar would sigh. He needed to make Ren feel human, right? His hand withdrew from the table and traced a shape in his pocket; his Solghannon and Trachadon totems, accompanied by the Llewnos.

Standing from his seat by pressing into the surface of the table, Fridgar stood and approached the boy from the side. He then knelt and kept a wary eye on the Biqaj as he undid the shackles, whether by force or by key, whichever came first. If at any point, the boy lunged at him, he would have three sheets to the wind carry him through a successful dodge. Once the shackles were undone and Ren was unbound, Fridgar stood and re-assumed his seat. If he'd lied through his questions before, Fridgar would run him through the process again. Afterwards, he moved on, "Let's talk about Lisirra. How did you meet her? What led you into her service? How long have you served her?"

he readied his quill, dipping it in the ink pot again, prepared to take all the notes he could if Ren was in the mood to share.

[Alistair]

To Fridgar's proposition, Kaiser - or Kleine - nodded, smiling faintly. "Mmm," he sounded in agreement. He would attend - it would be interesting to hear the achievements listed out, anyhow. That was always the best part, especially considering Thetros tended to embarrass the people he brought forward. Kleine remembered the Creator giving a man reincarnation almost solely for being a fulfilling sexual partner - he also remembered a burly man receiving his reincarnation for his contributions to the... Gauthrien knitting community. Half the men there didn't even realize such a thing existed. He was laughed at for trials, but lightheartedly so.

Alistair came - perhaps Fridgar sensed his minor irritation, but it subsided quickly. Instead, they were guided in, and Fridgar began to ask questions. The mage rose a brow - they already knew these things about Ren, so his motive couldn't have been the extraction of information. Was it just to make him feel like a patient? Was it to see if he could answer questions objectively? Alistair wasn't entirely sure, but he made no comment and allowed... "Doctor" Thorburn to continue his work.

Whatever the case, Ren responded coldly, with so little deviant playfulness like they'd all come accustomed to. He was quiet, mostly, offering Fridgar a side-glance at best. He only really looked at him when the topic of Lisirra came forward.

"I didn't know I met her," he said, forwardly. "I thought it was all a dream... I've had the same dream many times, across so many years. Then, one day, it came true in the real world - but from seeing the same vision so many times in falsehood, I believed it to be falsehood again. Do you want to hear my story?" he asked, looking to Fridgar once, before quietly nodding. Of course he wanted to hear.

"One trial, I'm... chasing my dog through the field. I see a lake, in the distance, though it doesn't honestly feel big enough to be a lake. Perhaps a pond... though the word seems so trivial," he rambled about the specifics, gritting his teeth in frustration. "By the pond, there's but one dead tree. On the tree... there are carrion crows, hundreds of them. But none of them are normal. They're rotted, it looks like, defiled. Their eyes are popping out, their skin is peeling back, they're bleeding. But they're all quiet. My dog prances all the way to that tree, barking up at the crows. Then, he steps inside what looks like an entrance, roughly the size of an elder child, on their way to adulthood. He barks furiously as he enters, and then growls, and then yelps. The sound silences," Ren whispered.

"In my dreams, I would step towards that tree and see blood trailing from out of the small entrance to the dead wood. The dream would always end there. But by chance, and for a moment, I decided to step through... perhaps because this was not a dream. Inside of that tree, darkness enveloped everything, and naught but the cold dead face of a malignant child stared into mine. She whispered, in a voice too deep and dark to belong to any but a man... you are my child. No more words, nothing beyond that, ever again - only a fundamental change. The Ren that existed before then, who held his grief in silence and complied, no longer existed in this world. Like my poor, sweet animal, I died that day. And tonight, I will die again," he whispered, staring deeply into the eyes of his 'therapist', a wicked grin crossing his face.

"Shall I tell you something scandalous of me, Fridgar?" he asked, lips receding into something of a coy smile. "As I open my lips, it is not from my mind that these words are commanded. That afternoon, faced with evil within that tree, I believe I lost control of who I was... who I am. There are so few glimpses left. They too are doomed to wane," he whispered somberly, a tear streaming from his eye before fading quietly into his cheek, a stream present among his glistened skin.

[Varthakh]

The Biqaj-Yithnai didn't answer any of his questions, neither did he react when Fridgar broke his binds. He couldn't help but sigh before asking his next question about Lisirra, was all this fruitless? Did the Yithnai even care? Whatever the case, he had a job to do, so cleared his throat and asked his question. The boy came to life suddenly and spoke of a dream he had repeatedly before it came true and manifested in the real world.

Fridgar looked to Alistair with uncertainty, had he asked the right question? Even if he hadn't, at least he'd gotten a reply. Fridgar simply nodded in response to the Biqaj’s question. Yes, he wanted to hear more. And so, the creature delved into his story. the story of his dream where his dog was slaughtered in the hollow gape of a messed-up tree. then, when the trial came that he saw the exact same tree, he hadn't the sense to turn around and get someone to burn it, he fell into the exact same cycle before venturing into the gape himself.

The face he described was likely Lisirra's, or some other plague bearer. Despite his devotion to Alistair, his Kindal, he couldn't help but ponder Rey'na again. Had she suffered a similar fate when she became a plague bearer? By the sounds of things, Ren was forced into it, controlled against his will. Rey'na could have been the same? He'd return to those thoughts later. Instead, he took notes.

Dead tree with dead crows,
Beloved pet culled,
Lured into the tree,
Met with a child (Lisirra)(?),
Forced into Servitude...

Had there been any other encounters? "You needn't be scared, Ren. We're here to help you," Fridgar spoke calmly, failing to meet his eyes. Whether these were crocodile’s tears or not, he wasn't sure. he kept his wits about him as he wrote, just in case the creature pulled a fast one on him. "We're going to do everything we can to bring you back from her, I swear it," he raised his eyes from the paper to look at Ren a fleeting glance, looking away just as soon as he'd made eye contact, stifling a snarl.

"To help you, we need more answers. Do you mind helping us?" The Lothar asked, shaking his head lightly as he pursed his lips, still calming himself from the onset rush of rage. "Did you meet with the face in the tree again? Or was it only in your dreams?" Fridgar asked with curiosity, dipping the quill again before returning to his notes. "Did you mean what you said about your father or were those Lisirra's words?" Just for clarity, if his father really had abused him then some sort of justice needed to be served.

The Lothar removed the quill from the parchment and pressed the edge of his finger to his lips once more, thinking. "Have you met with any other immortals or sought help in the past? I know you didn't come to us by choice," The Lothar would continue to write the Biqaj's answers, if he gave any. Slowly but surely, Fridgar was being lulled into seeing Ren's humanity.

[Alistair]

Ren found himself historically silent, for once, as Fridgar ran through a new list of questions. The story had drained him, somehow... or perhaps that wasn't it, but -- he just didn't feel like talking all that much. Was it the Egg? Was it Yithnai? He didn't know.

You needn't be scared, Ren, the burly man told him. Somehow, the words brought him comfort... he found himself laying more quietly into the bed, smiling faintly. We're going to do everything we can to... he went on, and Ren looked at him occasionally, not speaking. Fridgar wanted more answers. Did Ren want to give them? He didn't know. Was Lisirra not a release from everything he'd known? Being a Yithnai had been liberating. But... then again, in Kaelserad, he'd been detained. No one had offered him release - no Plague-bearers, not Lisirra herself.

He was forced to make his own freedom, which consequently meant stirring chaos and spreading illness. It was a high-volume, voracious life. Did he really enjoy it so much?

Fridgar asked more questions. Ren didn't really want to answer them, though mentally he spoke the truth. He hadn't seen her since then, and certainly not in that same tree. The tree withered and died the next trial, falling over as insects consumed the bark, a strange sight. The pond grew rotted and it was eventually drained, all becoming forgotten as the people in the area covered it over with a mound of soggy grass. As for his father, well...

Was it true? He didn't really know anymore. History had become so foggy. Was Demavend that type of man? He never remembered his dad being that way - why did he think that of him? Why did he remember terrible, heinous things that he had done? Had Lucien shared in them? Did they even happen at all?

"I've done enough talking today, Fridgar," the patient stated, firmly. "You'll have the rest of your answers later - or not. I'm not speaking anymore totrial, not until you both feed me better. This meat is horse piss, I want Kattegat tenders. Also, I'm starting to crave vegetables again - be darlings and bring some to me, will you?" he asked, glancing between Alistair and his husband. Ren was clearly hesitant to speak on anything, and perhaps he was willing to use talking as a way to improve his quality of treatment. Regardless, the patient had finished for the night, and Alistair was forced to respect that.

"Would you like to go outside, Ren?" he asked, looking into his shining blue eyes. "I'll accompany you. We can sit in the garden by the creek while you eat. It would be a nice reprieve from your stay on our... bed," he pointed out.

The Yithnai nodded. "Deal," he whispered. "Fridgar can come too, I guess. As long as he doesn't ask me any weird, personal questions," the boy grinned, teasing the man. It was entirely as if Ren wasn't aware of the fact that Fridgar had asked these questions as a form of therapy, or rehabilitation. Somehow, his frail mind perceived it as a friend's curiosity... which was ultimately a good sign.

"Fridgar," Alistair called to his lover, "would you like to escort Ren to the garden while I prepare some food?" he asked, eyes pleading quietly.

[Varthakh]

Unfortunately, Ren was done talking to them. He didn't speak a word toward answering his questions, he even expressed that he didn't want to talk for the rest of the trial. If Lothar felt no sympathy for the boy, he would have been angry. Instead, Fridgar nodded and put the quill aside. Looking over his notes, he hadn't gathered much, but it was something. As for the remark about horse-piss meat, Fridgar couldn't help but clear his throat with mild irritation. Fridgar happened to love the meals that Alistair prepared for him. He couldn't help but feel the urge to ask, 'how do you know what horse piss tastes like?' but refrained from antagonising the boy, as promised.

Vegetables? Fetch him some? Darlings? The last person to deliberately rile up Fridgar lost a few teeth, broke some face bones and swole up like a water skin after their fight, and he wasn't a shrimp Biqaj, either. Why did Fridgar react so hostile to shit talkers internally? Because he couldn't say anything to him in fears of another episode. Instead, he let the little man have his fun and let the ink of the parchment dry with his shit handwriting.

Alistair then spoke, offering the boy some fresh air and some time away from the bed. It was a fair enough offer, Ren had been stuck here for quite a while now, some fresh air would do him some good. Ren declared it a deal, even though he hadn't offered anything to begin with. He then spoke as though Fridgar wanted to go with him to the garden, but no such intention ever left his lips. Still, he'd humoured the boy up until now, why would he stop? "You've got it, boss," Fridgar nodded with a smile.

Ren was kind of adorable in a sick person sort of way. The boy struggled with his mental state, false memories and the like. One thing he wasn't too sure of was that Ren craved vegetables? Didn't Rhovanion prevent the consumption of anything except for bodily excrement and blood? Was this a product of his confusion or were Ren's small doses of Rhovanion wearing off? Regardless, it couldn't hurt to be on edge, right?

"Sure thing, Alistair. Don't forget his vegetables" The Lothar put a slight emphasis on the last word, looking to his beloved with concern to meet his pleading eyes. He then stood and smiled to the boy before tucking his chair away and approaching. "Come on, the gardens are this way," Fridgar offered a palm to help the boy up. If he took it, Fridgar would guide him out of the room and down the hall to the back door, where beyond laid the gardens.

[Neronin]

Review

Fridgar

Knowledges:
Psychology: Getting the basic information from a subject
Psychology: Gaining favor by making the patient comfortable
Psychology: Finding the Correct Questions

Ren: Lisirra’s Blessing Story
Ren: Confused about his past
Ren: Slowly coming forward with the truth

Loot: None
Injuries: None
Fame: +1 Good Deed (Rehabilitating Ren)
Devotion: None

Points: 15

Alistair

Knowledges:

Business Management: Teaching your workers new skills
Business Management: Acknowledging social relations between workers and clients
Medicine: El’ganneth Rhovanion as a rehabilitative treatment

Ren: Lisirra’s Blessing Story
Ren: Confused about his past
Ren: Slowly coming forward with the truth

Loot: None
Injuries: None
Fame: +2 Discover New Medical Procedure (Using Rhovanion to rehabilitate), +1 Good Deed (Rehabilitating Ren) = +3
Devotion: None

Points: 15 Comments: Great thread! I love the way your characters interact and the dialogue between them and Kaiser is so natural. It’s interesting to see the way Fridgar is with this kid Ren. Perhaps the beast in him sees a beast in the boy? I look forward to reading more! I gave Fridgar some Psychology knowledges because he totally practiced it in this thread!