Hospital Chat

Log Info

• Title: Hospital Chat
• Emitter: Warrick
• Characters: Warrick, Schara
• Place: Soldier's Defense
• Time: January 13th, 2023

Soldier's Defense, Early Evening

Soldier's Defense is on the down trend of the activity, between lunch and dinner. The cots, thankfully, aren't lined full like the undead invasion a while ago.

However, one man with shaved sides of his head lays near the entrance, shivering from the chill being brought in with the draft swooping in, but is already under layers and layer of blankets, a clean bandage wrapped around his shoulder and neck. Pallid of skin and sweating. "... stupid... bug..." the man wheezes, sighing quietly and closing his eyes.

The soldier's defence could be less full, but never empty. There was always a need to see to chronic conditions, and the recent cold weather meant there were often those coming with other minor illnesses. Not everyone was in good shape, however. Especially those who waited much too long to actually seek out any sort of care.

By the time Schara had decided to go to the soldier's defence, they weren't in the best of shape. The elf that was wandering the halls was missing their left arm, and had a crutch tucked under the remaining one as they wandered the halls, in some sort of vain attempt to prove they were healthy enough to leave. They stopped by the man's bed, tilting their head once, their features looking more than a bit sunken in. "What bug? Is there some sort of bug bothering you at the moment? If there's no nurse around, maybe I could get it." They offer quickly.

Warricks opens one slate eye, resting it on elf. It lazily swoops over the missing arm, the fake one, the crutch, then back up. "Just... complaining about... injuries is all," he groans. "You look... pretty rough yourself."

"I'm looking rough? I can assure you that I am the very picture of health." The elf huffs, crossing their one arm in front of them. "But that would be be myself trying to pretend I'm in better shape than I am. It would be more reasonable to say that I am not doing the best, but I am sure I will feel better eventually."

"You shouldn't be talking if it's causing you pain though, unless one of the staff told you to keep doing such. Are you going to be feeling better, I hope?" They ask, peering at the bedridden man.

Warrick raises a brow, a chuckle bubbling forth, but it comes in a wheezy cough. "Funny. Lot of people in the Watch like you; pretend they're fine and walk around when... they should be laying down."

The question makes him shake his head. "Haven't been... feeling well. Got bit, got infected. I sent my kid out to get something for us... what's got you like..." he gestures at the elf. "This?"

"Well, I'm not pretending to be doing well, I'm just saying that I am." The elf shrugs, before leaning back on the crutch they had. "And I immediately corrected myself, so it's alright. It's not going to do me much good sleeping all the time anyways, I need to move to make sure there's not further muscular degradation."

"I hope that whatever infection you got was treated, in that case. Most infections or poisons from creatures can be treated fairly easily, as long as you know what did it."

"As for what has me like, what do you mean, this? If you're referring to my current frailty, It was an infection of some sort, just one worse than usual. I didn't realize how bad it was getting, so I ended up here." They answer, looking for a chair to sit down nearby.

Warrick gives a half blank stare at the elf's over explaining. It slowly turning into him closing his eyes. "Laying down for a few extra days won't degrade your muscles," he murmurs. "And they're taking care of me. I just need to lay down and rest."

A long sigh escapes him. "... an infection as well? What happened?" he asks. Mentally preparing himself for an onslaught of information.

"Well, if you might be right, assuming that whatever illness I had is passed. But I already lost a lot of weight from this, and I need to keep moving so that any muscles aren't broken down to keep from starving." The elf shrugs again, dragging a chair over with the end of the crutch and flopping into it.

"I'm not entirely sure what it was to be honest." They answer. "I get a lot of infections, this one was just not responding to any topical antiseptics or the like, which is why I'm here. It could have come from an animal bite, or something."

Warrick adds, "Moving and /eating more/ will help with that. Trust me." He grunts a bit, sitting up more as the elf flops into a chair to rest.

Something they say gets an empathetic glance from the man. "Sickly, eh? I knew someone that was like that," he murmurs. "Name's Warrick."

"Well, yes, eating better is ideal, but you can't always eat more. Food is already a big expense, which is why it's even more important to avoid and further loss of weight or muscles." The elf sighs. "I'm probably going to need to budget more for recovery time as it is."

"I guess I would qualify as sickly, you're right. It's not easy, but I'll be alright." They nod, glancing away and weighing their options, before deciding that continuing to lie to someone else wasn't particularly worth it. "Good to see you again Warrick, my name is Schara. You knew someone like that? What happened to them?"

"It may be a big expense, but nothing is more expensive than dying," Warrick mentions, a weight in his words. "Always time to eat and recover. Some places here even give food for free."

A little bit a smile crosses his lips. "It's not easy. I know how it is." There is a blink. A glance to the metal arm. "... Oh. Schara. You were in that artifice armor. Thank you for helping me defend the innocents and staying in formation," he mentions. "Nice to properly meet you, rather than just being busy with work."

His eyes soften at the question. "Ah. My wife was a sickly woman. Fell ill quite often. She is with Serriel now," he intones, the tone he speaks with, it's been quite some time.

"I know, but knowing doesn't mean it's easier." Schara nods. "And I know based on expenses here that they're more than reasonable with care costs with everything included. I'll figure something out, I can always make some more amulets and ask my friend to help me sell some if I need, a couple of gold pieces can pay for a lot of food for many days."

"Yes, it is good to meet you as well." They nod again, leaning the crutch they had against their chair. "Thank you for helping me with those insects, it's possible I caught whatever it is you did from that giant fly, it just had a more significant effect on me."

"I'm sorry though, I should have figured from the past tense that who it was you were talking about passed away. I'm sorry to hear that mister Warrick." They add suddenly, with a small frown. "What is your kid getting for you? They're probably really worried with you being in the defence like this."

Warrick softly sighs. "Are all adventurers like this?" he rhetorically asks. "Don't be stubborn, the city can provide."

A slow nod. "Infections from injuries like that just going to take some time, an herbalist or a priest. Plenty of both here. And you're welcome. Just wish I was better prepared."

He raises a hand to stave off the apologies. "It's fine. It's been a long time," he says, looking to the front door. "Cinny's getting some food from the TarRaCe for us. She's worried, but I've come home with worse. She's just taking care of me. Also gets her out of the hospital a bit so she can enjoy the day. I'm in good hands here."

Warrick yawns, leaning back into his cot.

"Stubborn like what?" The elf asks, tilting their head to one side. "I just know that some of the places offering free food are places that I would rather avoid, and if I can pay for my own food, then someone else who can't can use it."

"That was just a strange situation. No one was expecting that scroll to not work when it did. If they do something again, they'll keep people on hand in case of accidents, I think." Schara offers. "I still don't know exactly what happened there. I should ask when I have the chance, because it wasn't his fault."

"I'm sure you're taken care of here, and I guess with all the sounds of pain, I've probably kept you talking long enough. You should get some rest if you're yawning, so you can sound less hurt when Cinny gets here then." They note, pulling the crutch back and staggering to their feet. "I should go sleep or something too, and be present when they come around with food. Maybe I'll ask someone I know to bring me something extra, that is a good idea."

Warrick pinches his brow between two fingers. "Just stubbornly prideful. If you're having to budget copper for /food/, Schara, you are the one who needs the free food."

There's a light sigh, and he looks to them once more. "It wasn't their fault, but I don't know what happened either. I don't do magic, I'm just a grunt."

Again, he waves a dismissive hand. "I'm used to the infirmary, it's fine," he sighs, closing his eyes and grunting as he slinks back into the cot. "Good. Maybe you can. Just don't aggravate any wounds."

He pulls the sheet up higher. "Perhaps we can speak again when we are more hale." Big yawn. "Until then."

Warrick rests his eyes.

-End Scene-