46 Vhalar 720
It would have been nice to have been in Rharne, sharing a wine skin with her brothers, maybe even mustering up enough courage to finally ask a man to dance, knowing full well she'd stumble and likely crush a few toes in the process. Instead, she was at Storm's Edge, listening to the rumors of men and women as she went about her business to help the soldiers here. Washing bedpans, mending busted faces, crafting tinctures to ward off infection. Simple work, it distracted Yeva temporarily from what she had witnessed in the Storm Wastes. The absolute quiet. The creeping enemy.
She didn't want to think of it; she needed to relax. Outside of the Adunih quarters, Yeva scrubbed her hands and reached for the wrinkled paper sack she had prepared that morning, "I'm gonna take a break for lunch," she called, another member voicing confirmation as she sank headed down the hall of Storm's Edge, about to enter the sparring field and coming up short. Rain drizzled the against the mud and darkened the stone, a crisp Vhalar air tickling her nose with the smell of fallen leaves.
It would have been nice to watch a few trainees, taking mental notes of both their form and critique but the rain had thinned the training grounds. She found herself caught on the site of the empty courtyard, the dummies stuffed but sagging from the weight of the water, their canvas a muddy brown color with bits of straw sticking from the shoulders and elbows. On the far end sat large targets, painted with rings and a center dot. Holes speckled its surface from former archers and their arrows, a few feathers clinging to the grass.
It was peaceful.
Yeva reached into her cloak pocket and nestled herself beneath the archway, leaning against a pillar and nibbled at her lunch. A simple sandwich of boiled chicken, tomato and lettuce, she nibbled at its crust while producing a notebook no bigger than a man's hand. It was bound in blue leather, and she flipped through the pages with reminiscent fingers. Her diary gave recollection of her time at sea upon the Libertalia, Yeva decidedly writing in the margin a bit more of a description for the grand ship. She wrote of its presence, trying to find a hyperbole which relayed just how grand the vessel was.
How its first impression had stolen her breath.
She smiled, turning the page.
How she wished she could have drawn its sails in detail. Yeva scribbled more details, about the exact coloring of its wood, the curve of it name and of course, the captain who manned such a fine beast of wood and wind. Darius Baer. A man with an easy smile and a fierce first mate to keep him focused. Astra. Yeva closed her eyes and tried to imagine the biqaj's beauty. The sternness of her brow and mystery of her eyes. She wrote of their first impression, and then again, how she faithfully remained by the captain's side, even when he proved to need a bit of hand in the leadership department. Astra had been an invaluable resource and deserved her credit in the swashbuckling stories.
Yeva wrote of the man lost at sea.
Before she knew it, her sandwich was gone and bits of bread crumbs covered her lap. She was wiping them away when she heard the pained groans of a man, and looked beyond the pillar to see a man being escorted towards the Order, propped up by another, "What's going on?" she asked, pushing to her feet, "Is he alright?"
The man escorting the other looked around for the source of the woman's voice and gave a relieved smile when he spotted the redhead, her blue cloak beneath her like a makeshift picnic blanket, "Oh, Miss! Yes, he-"
"I'm fine," the injured grumbled. He was clutching his stomach and nearly doubled over. His face resembled a garnet jewel, and beads of sweat were pooling from his forehead. He looked miserable. Poisoned, maybe?
Yeva snapped her journal closed and went into medic mode, pushing her sleeves up and meeting them swiftly, "What happened?"
"He's a braggart, Miss. I told him not to drink it, but he didn't listen!"
"Drink what?" she reached out, touching the sweaty man and felt that he was burning up. Fever? "How long ago?"
"This."
Yeva tore her eyes away from the afflicted long enough to notice the man had been holding a bottle. It was now in her face, her reflection staring back at her from within the red glass, "What is that?" she had never seen its label before and took it in her hand, uncorking the mouth and bringing it to her nose. Liquor. Strong. She coughed, rearing back and covered her nose. He had drank this?
"It's the Firebrand. He wanted to see if he could drink the whole thing in one go, 'bout 20 bits or so - like the men at the tournies - in Rharne. There's contests, ya see, and-"
A loud groan interrupted the explanation and Yeva began to rush them to the other healers, "This is a new drink?"
Oh, no. Rharnians loved a challenge, especially if it involved a good, strong liquor. How many more cases would pop up with this brew responsible? Had so much changed since she had been away?
"Yeah," he answered, grunting beneath the weight of his friend. Each footstep was slower than Yeva would have liked. Decidedly, she took the bottle and then dipped beneath the other arm to share the burden. He was heavy and leaned into her, his body heat rolling off him in waves.
"Wait, we should cool him off," she nodded towards the rain and they shuffled awkwardly into the falling water. Yeva had seen drunkards plenty of times, but this seemed to light him up in way she wasn't familiar with, "This is the Firebrand." Yeva made a face, "Do you believe it was poisoned?" Should she get the knights?
Seeing her face in its contemplation, the friend rushed to explain, "No! No, nothing dubious like that. It's just the brew. It's... well, they say it's made with baby Aukari blood, that's why it's so hot. B'it's nice in the cold, ya see? The Copper Prince said that's not true, but it puts a fire in your belly something fierce. It's a game to see how much you can drink."
Yeva stared at him.
"Really?"
"True as Ilaren's Lightnin', Miss."
These men... or at least one of them, drank something rumored to have the blood of children in it? Did she understand that right? The red head blinked, and then the man eyed her, coughing when he seemed to fully realize her red hair and its implications, "Ah, you're not Auk-?"
"No, I'm not," she snapped, shaking her head as water began to flatten her hair and soak through her shirt, "Let's just get him to the others."
She sighed and together they managed to drag the whimpering man to the infirmary, other Order of Adunih members flocking forward to help him into a cot. They turned to her and she managed to give the best explanation she could.
"He drank a Firebrand brew," she lifted the bottle, "It's a new drink, apparently sold at the Copper Prince. It heats your stomach up, very potent. Apparently, he wanted to see just how much he could handle, but I'm afraid he hasn't handled it well."
Her eyes flickered to the friend, to see if there was anything more he wanted to add. He simply nodded, confirming her account, "Pretty much."
"Well," one of the medics muttered, "Let's see if we can get him to throw up."
A stomach pump?
Yeva grimaced, "If it burned going down..." she took a step back, not eager to watch a man retch so soon after enjoying lunch herself, "It'll burn even worse coming back up. I.... I do not envy your companion." she was reminded of the bottle in her hand and turned towards the table, where a few beakers and medical equipment waited for use, sterilized. Among them were a few glasses, used to hold and administer medicine.
Aukari blood, hm?
If asked about it in the future, she would have reluctantly admitted to a morbid curiosity. Yeva drew a glass towards her and began to pour a small portion into the cylinder, swirling it around to observe its viscosity. Her finger followed, dipping into the liquid as she rubbed them together and noted its color. As far as she could tell, it didn't look like blood. Another rumor, it seemed. Just as the sounds of loud, wet, and agonized retching played behind her, Yeva took a quick sip of the drink, having to cover her mouth to stifle the sharp reaction her body had to the drink. It was spicy?
A gasp followed, and she pushed it away, trying to find the words to describe it. Her mouth buzzed with the bite of pain, and had she not been Fireforged, it was likely she would have started perspiring, "Alright," she breathed, understanding now how the man might have felt. They always stressed trying to relate to your patient but perhaps this hadn't been her finest hour. Certainly not her smartest. She pushed the drink away and tried to compose herself, "I'll prepare a cold compress."
She didn't want to think of it; she needed to relax. Outside of the Adunih quarters, Yeva scrubbed her hands and reached for the wrinkled paper sack she had prepared that morning, "I'm gonna take a break for lunch," she called, another member voicing confirmation as she sank headed down the hall of Storm's Edge, about to enter the sparring field and coming up short. Rain drizzled the against the mud and darkened the stone, a crisp Vhalar air tickling her nose with the smell of fallen leaves.
It would have been nice to watch a few trainees, taking mental notes of both their form and critique but the rain had thinned the training grounds. She found herself caught on the site of the empty courtyard, the dummies stuffed but sagging from the weight of the water, their canvas a muddy brown color with bits of straw sticking from the shoulders and elbows. On the far end sat large targets, painted with rings and a center dot. Holes speckled its surface from former archers and their arrows, a few feathers clinging to the grass.
It was peaceful.
Yeva reached into her cloak pocket and nestled herself beneath the archway, leaning against a pillar and nibbled at her lunch. A simple sandwich of boiled chicken, tomato and lettuce, she nibbled at its crust while producing a notebook no bigger than a man's hand. It was bound in blue leather, and she flipped through the pages with reminiscent fingers. Her diary gave recollection of her time at sea upon the Libertalia, Yeva decidedly writing in the margin a bit more of a description for the grand ship. She wrote of its presence, trying to find a hyperbole which relayed just how grand the vessel was.
How its first impression had stolen her breath.
She smiled, turning the page.
How she wished she could have drawn its sails in detail. Yeva scribbled more details, about the exact coloring of its wood, the curve of it name and of course, the captain who manned such a fine beast of wood and wind. Darius Baer. A man with an easy smile and a fierce first mate to keep him focused. Astra. Yeva closed her eyes and tried to imagine the biqaj's beauty. The sternness of her brow and mystery of her eyes. She wrote of their first impression, and then again, how she faithfully remained by the captain's side, even when he proved to need a bit of hand in the leadership department. Astra had been an invaluable resource and deserved her credit in the swashbuckling stories.
Yeva wrote of the man lost at sea.
Before she knew it, her sandwich was gone and bits of bread crumbs covered her lap. She was wiping them away when she heard the pained groans of a man, and looked beyond the pillar to see a man being escorted towards the Order, propped up by another, "What's going on?" she asked, pushing to her feet, "Is he alright?"
The man escorting the other looked around for the source of the woman's voice and gave a relieved smile when he spotted the redhead, her blue cloak beneath her like a makeshift picnic blanket, "Oh, Miss! Yes, he-"
"I'm fine," the injured grumbled. He was clutching his stomach and nearly doubled over. His face resembled a garnet jewel, and beads of sweat were pooling from his forehead. He looked miserable. Poisoned, maybe?
Yeva snapped her journal closed and went into medic mode, pushing her sleeves up and meeting them swiftly, "What happened?"
"He's a braggart, Miss. I told him not to drink it, but he didn't listen!"
"Drink what?" she reached out, touching the sweaty man and felt that he was burning up. Fever? "How long ago?"
"This."
Yeva tore her eyes away from the afflicted long enough to notice the man had been holding a bottle. It was now in her face, her reflection staring back at her from within the red glass, "What is that?" she had never seen its label before and took it in her hand, uncorking the mouth and bringing it to her nose. Liquor. Strong. She coughed, rearing back and covered her nose. He had drank this?
"It's the Firebrand. He wanted to see if he could drink the whole thing in one go, 'bout 20 bits or so - like the men at the tournies - in Rharne. There's contests, ya see, and-"
A loud groan interrupted the explanation and Yeva began to rush them to the other healers, "This is a new drink?"
Oh, no. Rharnians loved a challenge, especially if it involved a good, strong liquor. How many more cases would pop up with this brew responsible? Had so much changed since she had been away?
"Yeah," he answered, grunting beneath the weight of his friend. Each footstep was slower than Yeva would have liked. Decidedly, she took the bottle and then dipped beneath the other arm to share the burden. He was heavy and leaned into her, his body heat rolling off him in waves.
"Wait, we should cool him off," she nodded towards the rain and they shuffled awkwardly into the falling water. Yeva had seen drunkards plenty of times, but this seemed to light him up in way she wasn't familiar with, "This is the Firebrand." Yeva made a face, "Do you believe it was poisoned?" Should she get the knights?
Seeing her face in its contemplation, the friend rushed to explain, "No! No, nothing dubious like that. It's just the brew. It's... well, they say it's made with baby Aukari blood, that's why it's so hot. B'it's nice in the cold, ya see? The Copper Prince said that's not true, but it puts a fire in your belly something fierce. It's a game to see how much you can drink."
Yeva stared at him.
"Really?"
"True as Ilaren's Lightnin', Miss."
These men... or at least one of them, drank something rumored to have the blood of children in it? Did she understand that right? The red head blinked, and then the man eyed her, coughing when he seemed to fully realize her red hair and its implications, "Ah, you're not Auk-?"
"No, I'm not," she snapped, shaking her head as water began to flatten her hair and soak through her shirt, "Let's just get him to the others."
She sighed and together they managed to drag the whimpering man to the infirmary, other Order of Adunih members flocking forward to help him into a cot. They turned to her and she managed to give the best explanation she could.
"He drank a Firebrand brew," she lifted the bottle, "It's a new drink, apparently sold at the Copper Prince. It heats your stomach up, very potent. Apparently, he wanted to see just how much he could handle, but I'm afraid he hasn't handled it well."
Her eyes flickered to the friend, to see if there was anything more he wanted to add. He simply nodded, confirming her account, "Pretty much."
"Well," one of the medics muttered, "Let's see if we can get him to throw up."
A stomach pump?
Yeva grimaced, "If it burned going down..." she took a step back, not eager to watch a man retch so soon after enjoying lunch herself, "It'll burn even worse coming back up. I.... I do not envy your companion." she was reminded of the bottle in her hand and turned towards the table, where a few beakers and medical equipment waited for use, sterilized. Among them were a few glasses, used to hold and administer medicine.
Aukari blood, hm?
If asked about it in the future, she would have reluctantly admitted to a morbid curiosity. Yeva drew a glass towards her and began to pour a small portion into the cylinder, swirling it around to observe its viscosity. Her finger followed, dipping into the liquid as she rubbed them together and noted its color. As far as she could tell, it didn't look like blood. Another rumor, it seemed. Just as the sounds of loud, wet, and agonized retching played behind her, Yeva took a quick sip of the drink, having to cover her mouth to stifle the sharp reaction her body had to the drink. It was spicy?
A gasp followed, and she pushed it away, trying to find the words to describe it. Her mouth buzzed with the bite of pain, and had she not been Fireforged, it was likely she would have started perspiring, "Alright," she breathed, understanding now how the man might have felt. They always stressed trying to relate to your patient but perhaps this hadn't been her finest hour. Certainly not her smartest. She pushed the drink away and tried to compose herself, "I'll prepare a cold compress."
