Elendor
Eirdis Makes the Rounds
Eirdis goes through the dwarven camp, seeing to injuries, including Ranol's.
Sort Date: no date set
Location: High Pass
IC Time: Evening
Description: Two battles with orcs, and the caravan survives.. mostly. Ranol was lucky, and sustained no major injuries after the second encounter. It's the evening after the fight and the dwarves haven't moved camp yet. They're letting the injured recover some before pressing on into the dangerous territory.
Ranol is sitting in front of his tent, carefully wiping a whetstone along his blade. He does it methodically, trying to keep his pressure balanced as he sharpens his sword.
Eirdis checks in on everyone, moving down to Ranol's tent after seeing to a particularily wounded dwarf. She looks as if she hasn't slept much, if at all, since the first battle. Her movements are stiff, and there is a bandage on her wrist. Other than that, and a few bruises, she appears simply very tired. Smiling a bit, she edges closer to the clan-karl, clearing her throat a bit before she enters the area around his tent.
Ranol lifts his gaze at the prompt and offers a smile towards the dwarf. "Good evening, Eirdis. Do you need help with something." Already he's setting the stone aside to rise. The huskarl is still injured, but the bandages are hidden beneath his armor.
Eirdis dips her head politely and then shakes it, wincing a little and rubbing the back of her neck. "No, no, I'm fine, thank you. I was just coming to ask if you needed anything, and to inspect your bandages." She glances away a bit, blushing slightly. "It is necessary."
"Oh, ahh.. certainly." Ranol seems a bit uncomfortable about this himself, but doesn't want hurt Eirdis's feelings by refusing. He grabs up a cloth sitting next to the whetstone and carefully runs it over the broadsword, then slides the weapon into it's sheath.
Next, he pulls off his cloak and lays it over some piled belongings, and removes the recently repaired leather chest piece. "Are the karls doing okay, health-wise?" He asks as he begins unlacing the stiff beige shirt he wears under his armor. Thari cut the nice maroon one's to pieces when she was seeing to his wounds after the first fight.
Eirdis chews her lower lip and averts her eyes, digging around in her satchel to keep herself busy while Ranol removes his armor. "All things considered, they are doing very well indeed. Sometimes I wonder if Thari doesn't have some kind of magic about her, she heals so well." The dwarf smiles a bit and shifts her wrist bandage slightly before taking out some fresh bandages, a small knife and a clay pot of ointment from her bag.
"You do a fine job yourself, Eirdis." Ranol is growing uncomfortable simply by the other dwarf's nervousness. Still, she needs to check the bandage and there's really no reason for him to be shy about taking his shirt off. He shrugs off the garment and adds it to the pile on the ground. He has a cut on his shoulder that's recent, but mended enough that bindings are no longer needed. Around his chest, though, is a thick wrapping that's showing stains and signs of wear and tear. The huskarl hasn't changed it in a few days, at least.
Eirdis coughs at the compliment and chuckles a bit. "No need to appeal to my vanity, Ranol. I'm still learning." She frowns and wrinkles her nose a bit at the bandages, and applies a cool light blue ointment to the cut, and carefully dabs a bit of the ointment on the bandages, where any blood has seeped through. She waits a moment for the stuff to absorb and gently begins to remove the dwarf's chest wrappings, the bandages coming off smoothly despite some blood having dried into the bandage. She murmurs softly as she works, "This mixture can do just about anything it helps burns, helps skin to knit together faster, and it even can help with headaches and toothaches when boiled down in a stronger concentration. It's actually made from the same herb as Thari and I used on cousin Frarin.."
Ranol nods quietly, letting her explain what she's doing while she works. "Thari is quite skilled, and I think the two of you together do an amazing job, given the circumstances." When she pulls the bandage free, finally, the gash on his chest is grisly. Thari stitched it, but the area around the sewing is red and brown, the bruised tissue still slowly repairing. The wound must have been deep. There's signs of seepage around the stitches, likely from his exertions in the fight the night before.
Eirdis glances up at him and smiles a bit. "Thank you, I appreciate your noticing the difficult work we do not everyone does." She quietly looks at the wound and frowns. "You know, Ranol, given the present situation, I won't lecture you about keeping as still as possible when you aren't skirmishing..." Her green eyes glimmer a bit mischeviously. "But, once were home, I'm giving you a sermon you won't soon forget. These stitches should still be holding." She sighs a bit and shrugs. "I'll need to put some antiseptic cream on the wounds.. I warn you, it will sting quite a bit." She drops the old bandages on the ground and rumages through her bag, taking a small vial of vinegar and another small clay pot from her bag. She grabs a miniature pestle and mortar and places three sickly-looking orange-tinged leaves in the wooden cup, adding the vinegar and a small amount of ochre-coloured powder. Mixing the stuff, she pours the slightly fizzing stuff in the pot, then takes a small flat piece of wood from her bag, hurrying back and applying it slowly to Ranol's wounds, steeling herself for the potential onslaught of curses he might throw her way.
"Nothing I haven't felt before. Thari poured the stuff all over the wound when she stitched it." Ranol says with a smirk, daring her to say it will be worse than -that- was. He sits down, waiting patiently for the healer to prepare the mixture. When she first dabs it on, he hisses, flinching against the pain. He steadies his resolve after that and sits still, allowing her to work with teeth clenched and eyes turned away. No curses are given, though the speed at which she's working is agonizing.
The huskarl even goes so far as to hold his beard out of the way, though she still has to worry about the thick black hair on his chest that the ointment is gumming into.
Eirdis works carefully, but faster now, not wanting to cause Ranol any more pain than she needs to. Her hands fly busily, and she is soon finished. She takes a soft absorbant cloth and wipes the excess ointment away, then wraps fresh bandages around his chest. "I'll be right back, so don't move." She hurries to her own tent, where she has a pot of water on the fire, boiling. She adds a few leaves to a mug and returns, offering the mug. There's mint, cherry bark, chamomile and yarrow in the tea, and a bit of honey to take away any bitterness. "Drink this, it'll take your mind off the pain. If you can help it, don't move around so much that the ointment-covered bandages slip away from the wound, or else I'll have to do it all over again."
Ranol has an expression of pain on his face, but otherwise he doesn't make a single show of protest at her work. The dwarf remains sitting where instructed, idly running his hand through his hair while he await her return. When she hands him the mug his blue eyes glance within and he sniffs at it. "The pain isn't that bad, Eirdis. Is there anything in this that will make me tired? I don't want to be sluggish tonight if we're attacked again."
Eirdis chuckles softly at the question. "No, those ingredients, when combined, actually help you keep yourself alert, but it won't give you a jittery, restless feeling that other such medicinals do. In fact, I came up with that particular mixture myself, back in Bree."
Ranol looks up at Eirdis with a doubtful expression for a moment, but he sips from the mug regardless. He wrinkles his nose as the bitterness isn't completely masked, then moves to set down the drink so that he can pull his shirt back on and tie it. "Thank you, Eirdis." He says in a sincere tone.
Eirdis smiles and passes Ranol his clothing and armor, piece by piece. "No reason to thank me, Ranol, I'm just doing my duty." She blinks and smiles warmly. "However, you're welcome, nonetheless." She glances at the sword and whetstone. "She is unscathed, then, I hope?" She asks with a smile, knowing that sometimes men can be close to their weapons, especially if they are warriors by trade.
"Hmm?" Ranol doesn't follow her line of thinking at first, then realizes she's looking at the sword. "Oh, yeah.. a few small knicks. Nothing I can't work out with some sharpening. Once his armor is back on he looks around slowly, blue eyes looking over the dwarven camp. "I hope the night is quiet. As eager as I am to exact more revenge upon the goblins, I do not wish to do so tonight."
Eirdis nods and watches the camp as well, then looks back to Ranol. "Any chance of Frarin or yourself teaching me a bit of combat skills? I feel so useless cowering in the wagon or in my tent when everyone else, including Thari, is out fighting." She frowns, her eyes darkening a bit. "And I don't mean with a frying pan or a pot real weapons, real vengeance."
"Frarin is far better than I in combat. He could teach you much more than I could. Do you have a weapon of your own?" The huskarl takes another sip of the bitter drink she prepared, grimacing, but swallowing it down. "Though, I don't think you should participate in combat unless it's a matter of defense. Your healing skills are far more valuable."
[Eirdis(#23386)] Nodding slowly, she smiles some and then shakes her head. "No, I don't, but I've been partial to the axe and sword my father gave me his own axe when he passed on, since I was an only child." She nods in agreement with Ranol's advice about her defending herself. "I agree, but would it not be better if I -could- defend myself, if the need arose?"
"Oh, I think it's a good thing to learn, Eirdis. I was just clarifying that I don't think you should think about rushing into a battle, should the opportunity arise." Ranol runs his fingers through his unruly beard, working out a few of the snarles. "You should ask Frarin. If I see him I'll mention it myself."
Eirdis smiles and acquieses, nodding. "I understood what you meant in the first place, cousin, and I thank you for your thoughts about my wellfare.." She nods and begins to pack up her things. "Aye, thanks. I might not see Frarin tonight, myself.. I have a lot of reading to catch up on, if and when I can do so."
"Have a good evening Eirdis. I must finish seeing to my gear. The last thing you want is a dull edge in combat." Ranol says with a grin, "Though, my grandfather always said that dull wits are a bigger failing." He reaches for his blade and the whetstone, intending to continue with what he was doing when she came upon him.
Ranol is sitting in front of his tent, carefully wiping a whetstone along his blade. He does it methodically, trying to keep his pressure balanced as he sharpens his sword.
Eirdis checks in on everyone, moving down to Ranol's tent after seeing to a particularily wounded dwarf. She looks as if she hasn't slept much, if at all, since the first battle. Her movements are stiff, and there is a bandage on her wrist. Other than that, and a few bruises, she appears simply very tired. Smiling a bit, she edges closer to the clan-karl, clearing her throat a bit before she enters the area around his tent.
Ranol lifts his gaze at the prompt and offers a smile towards the dwarf. "Good evening, Eirdis. Do you need help with something." Already he's setting the stone aside to rise. The huskarl is still injured, but the bandages are hidden beneath his armor.
Eirdis dips her head politely and then shakes it, wincing a little and rubbing the back of her neck. "No, no, I'm fine, thank you. I was just coming to ask if you needed anything, and to inspect your bandages." She glances away a bit, blushing slightly. "It is necessary."
"Oh, ahh.. certainly." Ranol seems a bit uncomfortable about this himself, but doesn't want hurt Eirdis's feelings by refusing. He grabs up a cloth sitting next to the whetstone and carefully runs it over the broadsword, then slides the weapon into it's sheath.
Next, he pulls off his cloak and lays it over some piled belongings, and removes the recently repaired leather chest piece. "Are the karls doing okay, health-wise?" He asks as he begins unlacing the stiff beige shirt he wears under his armor. Thari cut the nice maroon one's to pieces when she was seeing to his wounds after the first fight.
Eirdis chews her lower lip and averts her eyes, digging around in her satchel to keep herself busy while Ranol removes his armor. "All things considered, they are doing very well indeed. Sometimes I wonder if Thari doesn't have some kind of magic about her, she heals so well." The dwarf smiles a bit and shifts her wrist bandage slightly before taking out some fresh bandages, a small knife and a clay pot of ointment from her bag.
"You do a fine job yourself, Eirdis." Ranol is growing uncomfortable simply by the other dwarf's nervousness. Still, she needs to check the bandage and there's really no reason for him to be shy about taking his shirt off. He shrugs off the garment and adds it to the pile on the ground. He has a cut on his shoulder that's recent, but mended enough that bindings are no longer needed. Around his chest, though, is a thick wrapping that's showing stains and signs of wear and tear. The huskarl hasn't changed it in a few days, at least.
Eirdis coughs at the compliment and chuckles a bit. "No need to appeal to my vanity, Ranol. I'm still learning." She frowns and wrinkles her nose a bit at the bandages, and applies a cool light blue ointment to the cut, and carefully dabs a bit of the ointment on the bandages, where any blood has seeped through. She waits a moment for the stuff to absorb and gently begins to remove the dwarf's chest wrappings, the bandages coming off smoothly despite some blood having dried into the bandage. She murmurs softly as she works, "This mixture can do just about anything it helps burns, helps skin to knit together faster, and it even can help with headaches and toothaches when boiled down in a stronger concentration. It's actually made from the same herb as Thari and I used on cousin Frarin.."
Ranol nods quietly, letting her explain what she's doing while she works. "Thari is quite skilled, and I think the two of you together do an amazing job, given the circumstances." When she pulls the bandage free, finally, the gash on his chest is grisly. Thari stitched it, but the area around the sewing is red and brown, the bruised tissue still slowly repairing. The wound must have been deep. There's signs of seepage around the stitches, likely from his exertions in the fight the night before.
Eirdis glances up at him and smiles a bit. "Thank you, I appreciate your noticing the difficult work we do not everyone does." She quietly looks at the wound and frowns. "You know, Ranol, given the present situation, I won't lecture you about keeping as still as possible when you aren't skirmishing..." Her green eyes glimmer a bit mischeviously. "But, once were home, I'm giving you a sermon you won't soon forget. These stitches should still be holding." She sighs a bit and shrugs. "I'll need to put some antiseptic cream on the wounds.. I warn you, it will sting quite a bit." She drops the old bandages on the ground and rumages through her bag, taking a small vial of vinegar and another small clay pot from her bag. She grabs a miniature pestle and mortar and places three sickly-looking orange-tinged leaves in the wooden cup, adding the vinegar and a small amount of ochre-coloured powder. Mixing the stuff, she pours the slightly fizzing stuff in the pot, then takes a small flat piece of wood from her bag, hurrying back and applying it slowly to Ranol's wounds, steeling herself for the potential onslaught of curses he might throw her way.
"Nothing I haven't felt before. Thari poured the stuff all over the wound when she stitched it." Ranol says with a smirk, daring her to say it will be worse than -that- was. He sits down, waiting patiently for the healer to prepare the mixture. When she first dabs it on, he hisses, flinching against the pain. He steadies his resolve after that and sits still, allowing her to work with teeth clenched and eyes turned away. No curses are given, though the speed at which she's working is agonizing.
The huskarl even goes so far as to hold his beard out of the way, though she still has to worry about the thick black hair on his chest that the ointment is gumming into.
Eirdis works carefully, but faster now, not wanting to cause Ranol any more pain than she needs to. Her hands fly busily, and she is soon finished. She takes a soft absorbant cloth and wipes the excess ointment away, then wraps fresh bandages around his chest. "I'll be right back, so don't move." She hurries to her own tent, where she has a pot of water on the fire, boiling. She adds a few leaves to a mug and returns, offering the mug. There's mint, cherry bark, chamomile and yarrow in the tea, and a bit of honey to take away any bitterness. "Drink this, it'll take your mind off the pain. If you can help it, don't move around so much that the ointment-covered bandages slip away from the wound, or else I'll have to do it all over again."
Ranol has an expression of pain on his face, but otherwise he doesn't make a single show of protest at her work. The dwarf remains sitting where instructed, idly running his hand through his hair while he await her return. When she hands him the mug his blue eyes glance within and he sniffs at it. "The pain isn't that bad, Eirdis. Is there anything in this that will make me tired? I don't want to be sluggish tonight if we're attacked again."
Eirdis chuckles softly at the question. "No, those ingredients, when combined, actually help you keep yourself alert, but it won't give you a jittery, restless feeling that other such medicinals do. In fact, I came up with that particular mixture myself, back in Bree."
Ranol looks up at Eirdis with a doubtful expression for a moment, but he sips from the mug regardless. He wrinkles his nose as the bitterness isn't completely masked, then moves to set down the drink so that he can pull his shirt back on and tie it. "Thank you, Eirdis." He says in a sincere tone.
Eirdis smiles and passes Ranol his clothing and armor, piece by piece. "No reason to thank me, Ranol, I'm just doing my duty." She blinks and smiles warmly. "However, you're welcome, nonetheless." She glances at the sword and whetstone. "She is unscathed, then, I hope?" She asks with a smile, knowing that sometimes men can be close to their weapons, especially if they are warriors by trade.
"Hmm?" Ranol doesn't follow her line of thinking at first, then realizes she's looking at the sword. "Oh, yeah.. a few small knicks. Nothing I can't work out with some sharpening. Once his armor is back on he looks around slowly, blue eyes looking over the dwarven camp. "I hope the night is quiet. As eager as I am to exact more revenge upon the goblins, I do not wish to do so tonight."
Eirdis nods and watches the camp as well, then looks back to Ranol. "Any chance of Frarin or yourself teaching me a bit of combat skills? I feel so useless cowering in the wagon or in my tent when everyone else, including Thari, is out fighting." She frowns, her eyes darkening a bit. "And I don't mean with a frying pan or a pot real weapons, real vengeance."
"Frarin is far better than I in combat. He could teach you much more than I could. Do you have a weapon of your own?" The huskarl takes another sip of the bitter drink she prepared, grimacing, but swallowing it down. "Though, I don't think you should participate in combat unless it's a matter of defense. Your healing skills are far more valuable."
[Eirdis(#23386)] Nodding slowly, she smiles some and then shakes her head. "No, I don't, but I've been partial to the axe and sword my father gave me his own axe when he passed on, since I was an only child." She nods in agreement with Ranol's advice about her defending herself. "I agree, but would it not be better if I -could- defend myself, if the need arose?"
"Oh, I think it's a good thing to learn, Eirdis. I was just clarifying that I don't think you should think about rushing into a battle, should the opportunity arise." Ranol runs his fingers through his unruly beard, working out a few of the snarles. "You should ask Frarin. If I see him I'll mention it myself."
Eirdis smiles and acquieses, nodding. "I understood what you meant in the first place, cousin, and I thank you for your thoughts about my wellfare.." She nods and begins to pack up her things. "Aye, thanks. I might not see Frarin tonight, myself.. I have a lot of reading to catch up on, if and when I can do so."
"Have a good evening Eirdis. I must finish seeing to my gear. The last thing you want is a dull edge in combat." Ranol says with a grin, "Though, my grandfather always said that dull wits are a bigger failing." He reaches for his blade and the whetstone, intending to continue with what he was doing when she came upon him.
Players: Ranol, Eirdis
Located in: Erebor
