forum Help me out- Running an experiment

Started November 22, 2023 by @EldritchHorror-Davadio health_and_safety emoji_events

tune

Lucky and Sinjoro raced back across the fields of Arthur's farm, blitzing towards the main road of Archetoth. The town wasn't very large, really just one long street with windy side streets criss-crossing it, and… had felt smaller ever since the Vexing.
He could hear the wind whistling behind him, as the snowstorm picked up steam coming across the plains towards the town. As he got closer, he could see some of his neighbors double checking windows and securing barn doors.
He came around the livery, where he usually stayed as Imperial Courier, and blitzed towards Doc's office. The Doc was likely still at Artie's place, but there was someone walking across the street that Lucky knew would help.
"Arcturus! Arcturus, get Doc from Artie's, I got someone who needs help. We'll be in his office, hurry!" He kept riding as the tall blonde elf took off sprinting down the street, his feet leaving no sign in the snow as he seemed to fly across the top.
Doc's office was down towards the end of the long main road, but Sinjoro's flailing hooves made short work of the distance. Lucky slid out of the saddle and pushed open the door. He laid the girl out on the padded exam table, where she'd likely rest for a while, and checked her for more blood. She didn't seem to be bleeding more from whatever wound had appeared on her back, but he was sure Doc would know more about it.

A minute passed, and Lucky couldn't help his pacing. He felt better as soon as the short doctor came hurrying in. "Doc! You gotta help her. Arthur and some of the Wulves found her out in the snow, she's unconscious and bleeding from something."
Doc Berg was an extremely young doctor. He was just past his 19th birthday, rail thin and pail, with floofy brown hair and soft brown eyes. Those eyes flashed with a deep intelligence that regularly put other people to shame.
He didn't look up at Lucky as he immediately began working. "You don't know what the wound is?"
"No. Just that she was bleeding a lot. Arthur absorbed some of it, I think, doing that Revenant thing he does."
Doc did look up then, his short stature adding to the look of a young child working on his patient. "Arthur worked on her?"
Lucky nodded again, and the doctor's hands kept moving. "Well… that's a help. Lucky, get me some hot water, there should be a pot boiling in my kitchen." Lucky moved to fetch the water, and Doc Berg rolled up his sleeves, before quickly beginning to undress the girl with the professional manner of a man who had done this for years.
Arcturus was in the doorway, looking at the girl. Pale skinned, auburn hair, scars visible to his eyes only… shed been through a lot. But the thing catching his attention just now was the smell.
"Franklyn… she smells of carathiniasis." Arcturus' Elvish senses were more attuned than the young doctor, and as soon as he said it, Doc nodded.
"I'll need to check if she's wounded, but if it's not that… you might be right."
Arcturus turned away, preserving the girl's privacy as much as he could as the doctor began examining her body for wounds that might be the cause of the bleeding. He did hear Franklyn's soft cursing as nothing became apparent. Lucky came back into the exam room with the water, also looking away as much as he could as Doc wiped the blood off her skin, making doubly sure there was no wound.

After a couple minutes, Doc Berg stepped back, thinking. "Arcturus, you're sure you can smell the sickness?"
The Elf turned and nodded at him, taking a deep breath just to be sure. "It's settled in there deep. She doesn't have long."
Lucky spoke quietly from where he was looking out the curtained window. "Arthur did say she had some kind of sickness he couldn't outright cure…"
The settled it for Doc Berg. He hurried into one of his side rooms, the counters in this room littered with bottles and powders and tinctures and all kinds of things. He was looking for a very specific bottle, and found it after only a moment of searching. "Good thing I had extra on hand."
He began working to get the tincture down her throat, opening her mouth, pouring a little in, and stroking her neck to simulate swallowing.
"Athelas extract?" Arcturus said quietly. Doc nodded.
"It should work to burn out the disease, but with a curse-induced sickness like this, we may need more." He glanced at Lucky. "This late in the winter, I'm out. This is the last I have. Any chance you could run to Varakun for me? The apothecary there should have more."
Lucky was watching the storm blow in. Already the snow was beginning to whip, but… he turned and looked at the girl, still lying unconscious, her modesty preserved by a blanket laid over her.
One glance was all it took.
"I'll be back as soon as I can." He was out the door, in the saddle, and down the road before he had time to talk himself out of it.

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Exposition by conversation
2. Exposition by dream

The voices had faded, and the warmth had disappeared, and now she wasn't really sure where she was. It was kind of grey and full of a weird light, wherever it was. A shadow passed behind her, and she turned, trying to see what it was.
There was nothing there. Just more grey, non-descript light.
Something ran behind her again, another shadow, giggling this time. She whipped around, and caught sight of the shadow this time. A little girl, looking similar to her, auburn hair and all, running through the halls of some archaic castle. The scene formed around her as she watched the girl.
A cheer went up, drawing her attention away, and this time she saw the girl, a bit older, shape-shifting through multiple forms, a man who resembled her enough he could only be her father right at her side.
There was shouting, and she looked over her shoulder in time to flinch away as the man, now red in the face and angry, smacked the girl across the face. The girl cried out, pulling back, before looking over at a smug boy in the corner, wearing the colors of another kingdom. More shouting followed.
The girl ran past again, this time silently. Long gone were the giggles, replaced by harsh breathing and small whimpers. The grey light had gone dark for a moment, and there was the sound of dogs, tracking her, for only a second.
The images stopped for a moment, and she wondered if that was it, when the girl walked forward from behind her, this time in chains. No more cheering crowds; this time, there was jeering and cat-calling. A very different scene from where it had started.
The chains disappeared, replaced by pretty gowns that showed too much skin, a pretty smile with too many teeth… and an angered buyer, raising his hand to lash out at a faulty product.
The grey light slowly faded back in, revealing the girl again giggling, but falsely, at some man, who smiled at her with darkness in his eyes. A shouted curse, a pained gasp, and the scene shifted again, this time whirling in a circle as the grey light amped up.
It ended only when it was a blinding white, like the snow on the plains where she'd finally fallen. And this time, when she saw herself drop into the cold, Valiel realized what was happening.
… So this is what they mean by your life flashing before your eyes…

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Worldbuilding
2. Character Reveal

Doc Berg sat in his exam office, watching the steady rise and fall of the girl's chest as she breathed. Her breath wasn't hitching, and his fingers on her wrist said her pulse was steady. She also wasn't bleeding from non-existent wounds, so that was a plus. Carathiniasis was one of those sicknesses that made doctors shudder to deal with. It usually had a magical component to it, used as part of a curse or punishment, and typically ended in death. It worked to thin the victims skin, membranes, and blood vessels to the point they would begin bleeding out of their pores, and eventually make them bleed out, if the weakness didnt kill them first.
Doc was determined this girl would not die on his table.
He turned his head as a racking cough made his chest spasm, and he coughed harshly into his elbow. He tapped a little metal tool on his belt that looked like a large medallion of some kind. It sprouted 3 legs and unhooked itself from his belt, before crawling up his body and under his shirt. Their was the sound of a pneumatic hiss, and Doc's coughing subsided as the little machine clamped to his chest.
He had such little helpers that could aid the girl, but… He was loathe to use anything that might make her bleed. The risk was too high.

Arcturus had stepped into the office and was sitting by the door, just watching Doc. The young man, just a kid really, was taking this so seriously. Arcturus had to remind himself that Franklyn Berg had been through quite a lot, even in his few years. 5'5" and 120lbs soaking wet, the story of Franklyn's frailty was written on every line of his diminutive body. He'd been born sick, stricken with a malady that no doctor had ever been able to cure.
But what he lacked in physical power, he more than made up for in brains. Behind those intelligent brown eyes lurked a mind that was far beyond his years, beyond his time, even. His teachers had been put to shame when he was still a child, and Archetoth had come to depend on his mechanical creations soon after. For a non-magical human, his mastery of magitech and mechanical engineering was unheard of. His mind had a comprehensive understanding of diplomacy and politics, and when his father died, 14 year old Franklyn had inadvertently stepped into his role as advisor on the town Council.
Being constantly sick had lead Franklyn to studying medicine, in an effort to fix himself. That long study had brought about medical innovations and inventions that had given Archetoth something of a reputation as a retreat for the sick, a place you could be sure to find healing. Doctor Berg's friendly demeanor, kind treatment, and expertise made him a favorite. Nobles and peasants received the same treatment, priced according to their means, and the town thrived on the business rolling in
And then had come the Vexing.
A disease, new and vicious and virulent, swept into town. Franklyn did his best, but he had no information, and could only study the disease as it happened. The young doctor had worked and worked and worked, destroying his own frail health in the process as he pushed his genius mind to its limits. He'd finally managed to cure it, ending the plague in Archetoth.
He'd never forgiven himself for all the people who had died in the process. The Vex had targeted women and children most strongly, and Franklyn's remaining family had passed. His mother and the girl he'd been sweet on had died before he'd been able to fix it. It had left him sick and tired and weak and grieving.

That had been about 2 years ago. Archetoth's reputation was still recovering, and Franklyn's confidence was still a shattered thing. Arcturus could see, in the way Doc Berg was keeping an intent eye on his patient, that he was fixating on this situation.
The familiar scene of a young girl, unconscious and very sick on his exam table, had triggered something for Franklyn. And as he sat there, he quietly promised her something.
Not again. Not this time.

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Time Skip
2. Worldbuilding

Lucky rode hard, pulling the hood on his cloak up, as well as the face cover. The snow was coming down hard now, big fluffy flakes that stuck to everything and were easily whipped around by the wind. Varakun was a large city some two hours away from Archetoth, if he kept Sinjoro at a hard run the whole time.
He trusted his horse to get him there. He’d raised SInjoro from birth, and the two had fled war in their home country several years ago, when Lucky was a teenager. As a refugee, he’d always felt beholden to the Crown for allowing him to seek asylum in Rhovanion, and that had made his choice to become an Imperial Courier easy. He’d lived in Archetoth since he’d moved here, and the little town knew to trust him for mail, deliveries, and other small goods from the surrounding cities.
The Rhovanion Empire was a large enough state to employ a whole host of couriers, who ran news and deliveries all over the country. The main roads all had courier houses on them, small buildings where you could drop of packages and messages and expect a courier to deliver them soon. Lucky was on the main road that cut through the foothills of the Silver Peaks. This was the easiest way to get to Varakun, and would also be the easiest to travel in this storm. The wide open plains to the west of the mountains made for some pretty extreme weather. Thunderstorms, cyclones, and blizzards would form out in the open, with nothing to get in their way or slow them down, and blow across the plains till they hit the mountains, where they often dissolved. Towns like Archetoth or even bigger cities like Varakun inevitably got caught in the weather crossfire. But, as a courier, Lucky was expected to be ready to go at a moment’s notice, even in weather like this. Which was why he’d invested in clothes for he and Sinjoro that would make his job easier. The cloak was of Elvish make, warm and waterproof, as well as tearproof. He barely felt the snow. SInjoro’s flank covering and saddle blanket were made of the same material, manufactured in Karachel. Hidden in the forests on the other side of the mountains, the City of the Elves was one of Lucky’s favorite places to deliver to. The Rhovanion Empire was home to all kinds- Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Therians, Gnomes- you name a people-group, they had a home in the Empire. It made for a great place to travel, and Lucky was aware he was blessed to have such a job.
Sinjoro could feel the urgency pouring off his dearest friend and rider, and so he ran hard the entire way, despite the blowing snow. Varakun came into sight eventually, despite the storm, and Lucky rode up to the courier house just outside the main gate of the city. He pulled up Sinjoro, slid out of the saddle, and hurried to the door, knocking almost frantically.
“Hold on, hold your horses, I’m coming!” An older man’s voice came from inside, and after a moment, a panel on the door slid back to reveal a grizzled old man, squinting into the white light of the snowstorm. “Identification, please.”
“It’s me, Garreth, it’s Lucky Devereaux from Archetoth. Lemme in, old timer.” Lucky had been here often enough for the veteran courier to recognize him, and the old man didn’t even bother to argue once he heard the voice. The door swung open and a hand pulled Lucky into the warm building.
“Well, stamp me, boy, it’s cold out there! What’s got you riding in weather like this?” A few shuffled steps and old Garreth was shoving a mug of steaming coffee into Lucky’s cold hands.
“Doc Berg sent me, he needs medicine. We got a young girl in trouble down in town and he’s out of athelas extract for the season. Would you know-“
Garreth cut him off, yelling up into the loft. “Marlt! Marlt, get down here!” There was a skittering noise and a diminutive figure swung down out of the loft. A closer look revealed it to a be a boy, roughly 8 years old, bundled up in furs of all kinds… until a second glance revealed pointed ears, translucent skin, and sharp teeth. Lucky recognized the marks of the Fey, and nodded politely. “Marlt, I need you to run into town and get a half season’s worth of athelas extract from Lucius the apothecary. Quick now, tell him to put it on my account, go go!” The Fey nodded quickly and zipped out the small backdoor, somehow moving faster than it looked like he ought to be able to. Garreth watched him go, before turning back to Lucky. “He’s a big help as I’ve gotten older. I think he’ll likely take over once I’ve retired.”
A soft female voice spoke from the shadows in the corner of the room. “We’re sure he’ll do a great job, Garreth.”
Lucky squinted into the dark, and smiled once he caught sight of the black Tabaxi in the corner. “Well, hello Nyla. Good to see you. Keeping old Garreth company?”
The cat-humanoid stood from where she’d been sitting in the corner, repairing some horse bridles, and stepped into the light of the fireplace. “I do my best to keep him out of trouble. But you can’t keep a good man down, even an old geezer.” She patted Gareth’s shoulder as he grumbled something like ‘ain’t that old…’ before turning to look out the window. Not much could be seen with the blowing snow, but her sharp eyes caught sight of Sinjoro. “Bring your horse around back while Marlt is gone, I’ll make sure he’s ready for the trip home.” She turned and headed for the back door and the small stable, grabbing her courier’s cloak off the hook by the door.
“Much appreciated.” Lucky drank down a bit more of his coffee and headed back out into the snow. Sinjoro was standing obediently where Lucky had slid out of the saddle, but he was covered in those big thick snowflakes. “C’mon, big fella. Nyla’s gonna take care of you.” Lucky lead him around back, trudging through the deepening snow, until they stepped through the stable doors. It was a bit warmer in here, without the wind and the wet. Nyla immediately pulled the doors closed behind her, before nodding at an empty stall.
“Just put him there for now.” She brought over a blanket, which she draped over Sinjoro, before beginning to wipe the melting snow off his nose and face. “What news from Archetoth?”
“Nothing new, other than this girl Doc is tending to. Arthur Timmons found her out in the snow earlier today, collapsed and unconscious. She hasn’t woken up, and didn’t have any kind of paperwork on her, so… we don’t know who she is.” Lucky plopped down on a haybale, watching Nyla feed Sinjoro a bit. “Other than that, just… life as usual.”
Nyla nodded, listening. “Everybody healthy?” It was a guarded question. The Vex had swept through the Empire, and Franklyn Berg was something of a small celebrity for being the doctor who had figured out a cure, but no place had been nearly as bad as Archetoth, for some reason.
“So far this winter, yes. Everything has been fine.” Lucky nodded slowly. He watched as Nyla gently placed her hands on Sinjoro’s neck, and seemed to squeeze inward just a bit. A soft glow emanated from her palms, and after a minute or so of that, the tiredness seemed to melt off Sinjoro’s frame. He looked fresh and awake and ready to run again. “Thank you, Nyla.” Lucky said quietly.
She turned and gave him a soft smile. “Of course. Anything to help you two get back quickly. Marlt should be back any minute now.”
As if on cue, there was a quiet whoosh as the stable doors opened just a little, enough to allow the child-like figure of the Fey runner to come in. He handed Lucky a large sack, full of little pre-measured bottles of athelas extract. “Lucius says that should last Doc Berg through spring, if he’s careful.” The Fey’s voice was soft, bell-like, and Lucky was glad Marlt was a friend. Fey Hypnosis was no fun.
“Thanks! I’ll let you all know how it goes!” He grabbed the sack and hustled over to Sinjoro. Nyla had already pulled off the blankets and tightened the saddle straps, so all he had to do was load the bottles into his saddle bags and step into the saddle, and they were off. “Say bye to Garreth for me!”

Back into the storm, down the road, and back to Archetoth he went, carrying his precious cargo.

….……
You help me decide what happens next.
In a whisper, give me your vote for one of the following options:

1. Up and Walking
2. Down and Talking