White hats

White hats

Postby Kestrel » Fri Nov 07, 2014 2:14 pm

The healer had come to her for assistance one afternoon, just a week ago. She had barely gotten out the information before she was interrupted by Dameena's abrupt arrival. Children were dying far too frequently to be a coincidence, Mercy said. There had to be an answer, even if Egris did not know if she wanted that knowledge. The Lady Warden wanted to help, but she needed far more information than she'd been able to gather thus far.

The Warden's boots sounded against the steps as she pushed inside the Rememdium with the intent to speak to Jule and the other healers. She needed to know what injuries they suffered. She smiled at the nurse who came to attend to her and politely declined her offer of help.

"I've come to speak with Healer Mitchell regarding a private matter."

And, upon hearing that he might be too busy to attend to her immediately, she would nod. "I will wait."

The noblewoman peered out of the small window alongside the door, her gloved hands clasped behind her back and her expression passive. The sunlight shone bright against the white of her uniform through the glass.

This was a place of healing.

She had come without her weapons.
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Re: White hats

Postby Rance » Fri Nov 07, 2014 4:01 pm

He arrived donning gloves of black leather.

Jule Mitchell emerged from the commons of the Rememdium Edificium clothed in the pungent odor of charred herbs and sharp, medicinal spices. Every time he had audience with the Lady Egris in the past, it was always while he donned the bleached robes of infirmary fellowship, lending a stark sense of business to his airs and composure. Today, an ash-speckled tunic and a pair of muddy-kneed britches were his adornments, a humble ensemble for unspoken duties. He peeled the tar-coated gauntlets away from his fingers, freeing each digit one after the other.

"A private matter, I was told," he said as he approached the noble woman standing in the anteroom. "Forgive my tardiness, Lady Kestrel. It is a poor practice to keep one of our most charitable stakeholders waiting too long."

His smile bid her a silent good day, the hard lips concealed behind an unkempt beard. He gave her a respectful bend at the hip, then slid past her toward the door. He opened it to the outside, where a crisp autumn had vigorously shaken the leaves from the trees. A damp day awaited them.

"Accompany me," Jule implored. "Few walls keep a promise of privacy; I find these are days best enjoyed before the dead season makes every moment simply unbearable."
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Re: White hats

Postby Kestrel » Sat Nov 08, 2014 10:44 am

The Warden turned, her smile both patient and polite. She was not troubled by the wait, short as it had been. Her nostrils flared to take in the sharp scents that clung to him like a cologne. "Of course you are forgiven, Healer Mitchell," she waved the matter of her inconvenience aside readily. "Your work is far more important than my feelings."

She held her hand out for a proper greeting, once he had removed his gloves. Her handshake was firm, polite, should he clasp her hand with his hand.

When he opened the door, she followed behind at a lazy pace. "I relish the sound of leaves underfoot and the bright colors of the changing foliage. My favorite season," she admitted as the heavy door closed behind them.

They strolled, companionably, away from his place of work. Eventually, she cleared her throat to signal that she thought them at a safe distance. "Healer Mercy brought to my attention a matter most distressing," she began. "She tells me that children are dying from some mystery ailment. Too frequently for it to be altogether natural. What are your thoughts?"
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Re: White hats

Postby Rance » Sat Nov 08, 2014 7:24 pm

The handshake assured him that her visit was as it must be: a circumstance of business.

Outside, their feet cut swaths through the crumbled corpses of leaves, her boots and his like armies sweeping through hundreds, thousands of Nature's fallen comrades. By his silent direction, he enjoined her to follow him along an uncharted path through the copses of trees well beyond the Rememdium's perimeter. The skin of the trees had gone gray and white with death, and occasionally, an acorn fell from the hands of the woody sentinels looming above them, smacking against the wet earth.

"Physician Tirel is a great asset. We thrive because of her expertise. I remind her only conservatively; her best work and research seems to come when she's most afraid she'll fail," he said, trying to spare a glance at the Lady Warden's square-jawed face, sharing a complicit humor: the kind of leaders speaking about their lessers as if they were game-pieces.

But what he and Egris Verreaux understood, in silence, was that wars -- whether those of health or, conversely, of politics and battle -- were not won by leaders, but by those who acted under them.

"The children," he said, turning to face her when they were out of earshot of the infirmary, "are a mystery. Mercy has confirmed that the victims have been children alone, and the tragedies are not limited by class -- we've seen to children from affluent families and impoverished ones suffering the same affliction."

His cheeks tightened, their corners holding up his smile with invisible pins while he watched her.

"Illnesses do not discriminate. What does that lead you to presume, Lady Warden?"
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Re: White hats

Postby Kestrel » Sun Nov 09, 2014 9:19 am

The Lady and Jule Mitchell had not had many interactions. They were hardly more than allies, and fairly close to strangers at that. Still, their silence was more companionable than awkward, by force of personality alone. They paused underneath the trees and the Lady glanced upward as the wind stirred the boughs overhead.

She nodded at his mention of Mercy's skill, her uncertainty. "She will continue to thrive if pushed, then. I am happy you have found one so fierce," she admitted, with a brief smile. "She will be a boon."

She listened when he spoke of the children, reading between the lines as he spoke. "What do you think is the cause, then?," she asked, finally.

"Poison? Murder? Who could do such a thing?"
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Re: White hats

Postby Rance » Sun Nov 09, 2014 12:22 pm

"You bear the name of a predator, Lady Kestrel," he said. "If you're unaware of the telltale habits of a creature that preys, consumes, and destroys, perhaps it would be better to find a new sobriquet." A laugh; it rattled in his chest, an unfamiliar sound from a humorless man. "Maybe one that better suits your gentler demeanor. Come," he bid her.

He motioned her to follow him further into the woods, a pivot of his heels digging half-moons in the earth.

Jule Mitchell sauntered with the confidence of a fellow who'd traveled these undefined paths before. He traced his fingers along the skin of trees as he passed them. He wore the colors of fall, all browns and grays, an amateur's desire to imitate the mists and brittle leaves left of summer's lifepulse. Farther out from the Rememdium Edificium, silence was their only companion: a still breeze crept through the trees, bringing with it more than just the odor of wetness. A hollow, burnt reek -- the acrid ghost of firesmoke -- blew between trunks and branches.

Woods gave way to a clearing.

On the ground, a black tattoo awaited them, sprinkled with white ashes that sometimes danced on an errant wind. The soil was remarkably flat within the wide, charred circle. Marks of boots and makeshift footpaths spidered out from all sides of the scar, the evidence of work, work, work--

Jule squatted down on the perimeter of the ruined dirt.

"Beasts kill, Lady Egris, as a matter of subsistence. It's men who poison and murder."
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Re: White hats

Postby Kestrel » Sun Nov 09, 2014 1:22 pm

The smile that darted across her features was almost startled. "Perhaps I should. The Fluffy Bunny, Lady Warden of Myrken. That has a rather nice ring to it, I'd say," she teased, lashes fluttering in a delicate wink. A gesture that revealed a playful side to her nature that was oft swallowed by her poise and the heavy shackles of responsibility.

She trailed after him dutifully, past the treeline. They trekked over ground just beginning to freeze at night, thawing with the sun come morning.

Her bright gaze swept over the clearing as they entered. The brilliant blue orbs caught on the pyre and she moved closer. She stooped to run her fingers threw the thick piles of ash, recalling Myrken's customs all over again. She held her two fingers aloft to gaze at the stains upon her gloves. Her breath left her in a regrettable sigh and she crossed herself.

"I'm not certain I'll ever understand Myrken's traditions for burning their dead. If I fall, you'll send me back to Razasan, won't you?," she questioned, with soft, sad smile while glancing over her shoulder at the healer.

Finally, she lifted herself to her feet. The ash was brushed upon her thigh carelessly. "There are all manner of creatures here. Men. Beasts. Those that linger in a realm unto their own, somewhere between."

She reached out carefully, attempting to lay a hand upon his arm. Those eyes were solemn, her smile thin. Her skin was warm, even through cloth. "My men will discover the culprit, this I vow to you." Another heaping helping of duty to join the rest upon her plate.

"Do you have any information that might guide us?"
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Re: White hats

Postby Rance » Sun Nov 09, 2014 1:52 pm

She cut a sleek but imposing figure in the commons of her uniform, but Jule Mitchell never seemed to look anywhere except at her face. As she wielded humor at him, he but smiled -- a hollow, weighted, worrisome gesture that most of his beard smothered as if it was the warden for his emotions.

"Rabbits," he said, "exist only to procreate, don't they? Your instinct, I hope, is sharper."

Here, though, in this burning-place, in this circle where fires often raged at night, Jule's unwitting mirth trickled away. His fingertips stroked through the scorched dirt after hers. Her hand fell to his arm, offering warmth. He glanced down at her touch, but seemed wholly incapable of registering its implications or humanity.

If I fall, you'll send me back to Razasan, won't you?

"Forgive us our esoteric customs, but no," he said. "If you die here, you burn here. Otherwise, your tenure as our Lady Warden would prove itself a lie. We burn our dead. We burn our friends and our families, those things we hate, and especially those things we love."

As for her vow, he nodded, but couldn't keep from staring at the black patch.

"These dying children are the work of a very intelligent predator, Lady Egris. A deliberate, calculating, and arrogant creature that cares nothing for cleaning up after itself. I trust in your ability to slay it without pause. In the meantime, I'll ask Physician Tirel to continue her vigorous examination and work. As for information?" Jule shook his head. "Only a suggestion: Curfew for children. Public awareness of the dangers at hand, making the people aware that their young ones are in danger. Myrkentown is no repository for fools, and this is not the first time our littler ones have been targeted. Consider increased patrols from your soldiers to ensure that no orphans or gutter-dwellers are left unaccounted.

"If this beast desires to strike again, it should need to slaughter capable men and be seen by knowing eyes before it does so."
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Re: White hats

Postby Kestrel » Sun Nov 09, 2014 3:49 pm

"My instincts rarely venture into the territory of procreation," she assured him, her smile self-deprecating. "Children are for others. Not soldiers." Not if they wanted a career instead of a family.

At his refusal to honor her wishes, she nodded sharply. She would have a word with Glenn. Certainly not a conversation he'd probably enjoy. Maybe he wouldn't be quite so rigid in his views. She did not beleaguer the point, though, and let the conversation drift on.

His advice was taken, considered. "All good ideas. I will make the changes. Tell Physician Mercy that any help she might provide is welcome. Stay safe," she offered. As always with a woman hyper-focused on her tasks, her farewell was abrupt.

She needed to demand men from Surdemer and inform her own men of the changes in routine. She needed to tell the town to keep their children close.

The Kestrel was on the hunt.
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