Coldheart Hostel
51st of Ymiden 722
As an experienced surgeon and doctor, when he wore that hat, Rakvald preferred to cater to the lower classes. Those who had wealth and status could be lucrative clients. Indeed some of his most notable experiments had been done on just the same. Devin Thorne and Tio Silver came to mind as prominent clients he'd operated upon. However surgery was hardly ever a certain game, even for one of Rakvald's skill and ability. He could suture a wound with nary a thought, just a wave of his hand over flesh, but operating upon the innards of mortals tended to be a more delicate dance.
One wrong move could spell disaster for his operation, with a full-on legal assault that could drive him completely underground.. So he preferred to barter with the poor for medical treatment, to bring whatever they could to his doorstep in payment, they at least had the virtue of not being able to afford proper legal recourse if their procedure didn't go as planned.. If at any moment he thought he was being short-changed, he had Renfreud sniff out their worth. It turned out he'd been a good hire for just that reason, as many middle classed and merchant class folks tried to sneak in a surgery for a loaf of stale bread, when they could afford a much greater barter.
It had gotten to the point where even Renfreud's nose for a mark could only keep up with so many people trying to cheat him. Ultimately, Rakvald had Renfreud scout out the Shanty, to see who he could recover that was in need. To determine what they had to barter or lay up for collateral, and bring them in for healing of one sort or another.
This gathered gaggle of health-seekers was given a lead to Coldheart Hostel. Renfreud assured them that Rakvald would host them there until they were well and healthy enough to take their leave. And he would. They had many guest beds in the Hostel portion of the townhouse. A large room full of bunks and little else besides some washing facilities and dressers full of clean robes.
The most desperate of these patients was led in first to Rakvald. It was a man suffering from a great pain in his gut. How he'd gotten the pain, he couldn't reckon. It might've been too much drink, or sudden illness, or else a brawl or two where he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. However the latter seemed less likely, as Rakvald couldn't see any bruises lingering on the surface of his abdomen. Rakvald knelt in front of the patient, who uneasily stared at Rakvald's cephalopod visage. Rakvald used his tentacles, both on his face and hands to explore the flesh, trying to sense out portions of tenderness, and portions of hard. As if to search for a build up of gas. "Hmmm." Rakvald murmured, "I think we'll need to diagnose you, with surgery."
Rakvald stood up to his full height, hunching over ever so slightly to remain almost on the level with his patient's gaze. "Not to worry, I have a foolproof method of putting you under indefinitely. You won't feel any of it, and will wake up in what will feel perhaps like moments."
The patient nodded, nervous and queasy. He hadn't eaten, or drank for a good few hours prior to his operating time. Rakvald had made sure to let him wait until he'd purged his stomach's contents. Once he was certain that the patient was in a state of fasting, he admitted him to the surgery. There he laid him on the operating table, covered in soft linen and wool. With a swift gesture, Rakvald produced the sleeping powder that was gifted from his Nyvahi mark. This, he held to the man's airways. "Breath in deeply, and you will go to sleep." Rakvald said in as reassuring a voice as he could.
A few moments passed, and the patient breathed in the dust, through nose and mouth. Rakvald held his hand over his airways until he was sure the patient was under. Then he got to work. He began by applying a topical anesthetic and numbing agent to the incision site. While he was confident in the sleeping powder's power to keep the man under sleep, he didn't want to take any chances that his body would react violently to raw pain.
Once the topical numbing agent was applied, then they could get started. Rakvald nodded at Renfreud, who could barely contain his humming chuckles. Rakvald didn't mind Renfreud's little quirks as much as he had previously. It almost became as background noise, more calming than distracting.
Rakvald held out a tentacled hand for the scalpel, to which Renfreud dutifully hastened. His assistant was heard to rifle through the sterilized utensils, and then draw out the sharp blade. Holding it gingerly by the cross-section between handle and blade, he placed it in Rakvald's waiting hands. "Thank you, Renfreud." Rakvald muttered, and began exploring the distended belly of his patient.
It'd been some time since he engaged in the act of surgery without the benefit of Graft. And while he could easily employ it here in case of emergency, he wished to remain sharp in his surgical skills, so forwent the employment of the reservations in this particular procedure. Diagnosis was a significant aspect of healing. Without understanding and exercising of ground-level awareness, Rakvald could easily lose sight of his approach when it comes to employing his magics. So from time to time, as now, he denied the spark the privilege of exploring the flesh he was operating upon.
It wasn't easy, the alien persona rattling around in his mind had grown stronger of late. More so with the distance of his family. Somedays, Rakvald wondered who he was more of, Rakvald or the spark. Nevertheless, the spark was still a valuable ally in healing. Besides, even if he wanted to remove his spark, it was no simple or common feat. And he didn't want to remove it. He was growing closer to the idea of apotheosis as he spent more time in his own thoughts.
"Master?" Renfreud's voice pierced his reverie.
"Thank you, Renfreud. Stay on hand a moment, and observe. But try not to make noise or get too close to the site of this incision." So saying, Rakvald lowered the blade with his good hand, and began a gentle incision of the dermis.
"Tongs?" Rakvald requested. Renfreud swiftly complied. The clips were extended to keep the cavity he'd cut open. While he went around to root in the man's innards. "Hmmm..." rakvald hummed, gently but not too loud.
There appeared to be a good deal of inflammation, but no signs yet of outright infection. That was good, and meant that Rakvald wouldn't have to remove corrupted flesh in a more or less experimental surgery. This appeared to be a problem with one of the minor organs in the man's abdomen. It was an affliction often seen, and Rakvald had personally seen the appendix inflamed in such a way. Medical knowledge was sparse on what the appendix was good for, exactly, but it was thought to be involved in digestion by some more advanced medical scholars.
Rakvald for his part had no problem removing it. In all the cases he'd heard of, the appendectomy patients that survived their procedure went on to live mostly ordinary lives, unbothered by the absence of the organ. So he considered that organ vestigial.
Rakvald turned to Renfreud, and waved him a little closer with his free hand. He pointed to the appendix, as he held the man's cavity open with the tongs. "You see that organ? At the end of my scalpel? A useless organ. Nobody has determined if it has an actual role or use for humans, but from all accounts they're able to live without it. It's what we call vestigial. It may have had a use in some more primitive form that mankind took once upon a time, but now it's no longer useful."
"Master?" Renfreud began, "Such as these poor unfortunate souls, cast off into the Shanty are to greater Quacia?"
Rakvald bristled for a moment at that, but then his disposition softened. Thankfully his monstrous visage was inscrutable to Renfreud so far, and his momentary fury escaped the human. "Yes I suppose so... I wonder..."
"Wonder what Master?"
"Perhaps with the Creep rumored to be gone, we could find those willing to find a better life abroad, outside the walls. We'd surely have no shortage of people willing to join us, from the Shanty if nowhere else."
Renfreud frowned in thought, then chuckled, "I suppose it's an idea. Is that something you'd like, to live in the country?"
Rakvald smiled, "I am at my heart a bucolic soul if nothing else. At home on the range. I may give this some thought."
"Well, perhaps you'll find grateful patients willing to follow you, when you grow your reputation as a miracle healer... Master."
This said, Rakvald concluded the surgery, suturing up all the bits that needed it, and cleaning the cavity as well as he could. The Appendix was set aside on a nearby tray, while Rakvald used a tiny bit of ether to help hasten the healing process of his patient. The faster he healed, the less likely infection would have chances to take hold.
