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RESPITE CLINIC - EARLY MORNING
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Doc Plume sits at their desk across from Nesseth, just enjoying a cup of tea and some time with him before both of them need to get back to their very dire business for the day. "...and that's why you always double check your gear before you stitch someone up." They chuckle a bit. The slightly macabre story seeming lighthearted compared to the events going on around the town.
Nesseth chuckles, smiling a bit as the story concludes, clearly unbothered by the details as he takes a sip of his own tea, enjoying the bit of free time before he's due at the barracks. "At least it happened with something that was easily noticeable during clean-up, huh? Besides, the patient wouldn't know better, since they're still out cold. For all they know, they got stitched up once and that was it."
Doc Plume nods a bit and is about to say something in reply when there's a sharp precise knock at the door to the clinic. They cock their head curiously and stand up to answer the door, unlocking it and peeking through the drawn curtain over the window. "Huh." They open the door and address the person standing there. "Hello. Can I help you?"
Nesseth tilts his head curiously upon hearing the knock on the door. He doesn't really get up yet, since he figures it's just an early call for Plume's expertise or advice. Instead, he turns in his seat to watch Plume answer the door, his tea cup in hand.
Maximillian is standing at the door with his usual neutral expression. Behind him stands a large ox and a similarly large bear who works to help load and unload heavy cargo with the caravans. Between the two is a very large crate marked with a familiar logo. Max looks Plume over and nods. "All right, yeah. You're Dr. Plume, then? You should know about this delivery then..."
Doc Plume gives a nearly audible sigh. "Ah, right... don't suppose I have much choice now that you're here. Doesn't look like that box will fit through the door, though." They look back to Nesseth, their expression requesting him to come over.
Nesseth meets Plume's eyes and sets his tea cup down on the desk. He gets up and takes a moment to straighten his clothes out a bit as he steps over to the door, nodding at Maximillian and the others outside once he catches sight of them. "Need me for something, Plume?"
Maximillian smirks a bit. "Of course not. It breaks down, though..." Behind him, the Ox and bear start at the crate with prybars, removing the thin wood on the top and sides revealing a well formed cuboid of other boxes, a few longer or taller and a few smaller cubes. Max pulls a few sheets of paper out of his satchel and presents them to Plume. "Still need to sign for it, of course, even if you are Family."
Doc Plume takes the papers from the owlbear and looks to Nesseth. "Just a delivery from my family, dear. Could you open up the ward and make some space for these boxes? Show these folks where to set them. Carefully." The last word is emphasized, with hints of Plume's issues with her family seething under the surface. They take the papers over to their desk and start reading through them
Doc Plume as they sit down. They look up to Max. "Come in. Let's try to get this over with before my first appointment please."
Nesseth nods at Plume and goes to guide the ox and bear to where they should drop off all the pieces of whatever is being delivered, doing what he can to straighten up everything while the two burly caravaneers continue to move boxes into the ward.
Maximillian steps inside and stands where Nesseth was just sitting. He eyes the lizard up appraisingly as Plume reads over the papers. The ox and bear make quick work of moving the boxes inside, arranging them neatly against the wall of the ward area in only a few minutes despite the sheer mass of whatever's inside them.
Nesseth is perhaps a little too distracted helping the ox and bull move the boxes into the ward to notice the scrutiny being given to him by Maximillian, though he does occasionally cast a curious glance over at Plume, knowing they're none too appreciative of family contact out of nowhere.
Doc Plume finishes reading through the paperwork and signs and initials as needed before passing them back to Max for countersigning. "Hmm..." They're clearly pondering something, glancing over at Nesseth who has mostly been relegated with holding the door open for the two stevedores.
Maximillian signs the papers and hands one copy back to Plume, along with what looks like a thick book wrapped in brown paper. "Almost forgot the manual." He looks over at the ox and bear who are just porting in the last few boxes. "So that's all, then. We'll get out of your fur once everything is in."
Nesseth just holds the door open for the porters as they deliver the last few boxes into the ward and finish stacking them in place. His curiosity getting the better of him, though, he directs his attention towards Plume, just watching their expression for the moment, but otherwise not speaking up unless necessary.
Doc Plume considers the owlbear and then looks to Nesseth before looking back at Max. "Hang on a second. You were on the caravan that was attacked, right? The one that repelled it?"
Nesseth blinks, then perks up. "Hey... that's right! We got some information from the rest of the caravaneers, but if there's anything you could tell us, the better the guards can function with this threat."
Maximillian grumbles a bit under his breath, but nods. "Yeah, sure... can head over there. Guess nothing's going out back to Bairnell any time soon anyway..."
Nesseth shakes his head a bit. "Actually, if you've got the time, you could always just give me a quick summary. I'm one of the guards that's helping with the scouting and information gathering, and... well..." He trails off for a moment, still uncomfortable about the fact that Louma's missing, "Also filling in for one of the guard captains, who got ambushed and kidnapped during an earlier part of the investigation."
Narrator: The ox and bear have finished and are just waiting on the street outside, having collected up the nails and wood from outer crate for proper disposal.
Doc Plume nods to Nesseth. "All right. I do have appointments soon, though, so maybe..." They check the paperwork for the agent's name. "Maximillian... can go with you and give you that report back at the barracks."
Nesseth hums thoughtfully as he gives Plume a curious look for a moment. "Mmh... if you're sure, Plume? Well, we can head out to the barracks once you're ready, sir."
Maximillian nods to Nesseth. "Don't mind at all. Those little buggers are everyone's problem while they're out there." He gives Plume a polite nod and heads to the door. "Doctor," he says by way of farewell to Plume. Once on the street, he sends the bear off with the waste and the ox off toward the Minnow.
Nesseth heads out with Maximillian, though he spares Plume a lingering, curious look as he pauses at the door. "I'll be back in a while, dear. I hope your appointments go smoothly."
Doc Plume nods to the owlbear. They tuck the paperwork and manual into a drawer of their desk before replying to Nesseth. "Yes, see you then, dear." Their tone is clearly bothered by something, but they're doing their best to hide it. Once the other two have departed, they make themself a fresh cup of tea and try to settle the subtle shaking in their hands.
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YZZAYT'S PROMINENCE - LATE AFTERNOON
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Narrator: The Great Stone City, carved out of the side of the westernmost mountain of Aephix. Louma has gotten to explore, to some limited degree and always under guard, and gotten to see the impressive stone carvings, many of the homes and buildings quite literally carved out of the mountain itself, with chambers going inside, like luxurious caves. Trade goods of skins and metals seem somewhat more common then wood, but stone dominates most of the structures and architecture.
Narrator: The people are a mix of many different species, all answering as Saur, many of the civilians are just trying to live their lives, speaking in praise of Yzzayt, but hesistant to tell Louma much more than that if she inquires, often giving hesitant glances to those guards who are always with her.
Narrator: Now, Louma has been 'politely escorted' to her room, with the guards unusually staying inside, as if expecting something, 'politely suggesting' that Louma 'be seated'.
Louma has not particularly enjoyed her stay at the Prominence, but she has at least managed to remain somewhat thankful to whatever beings control fate that she has not been sent to the mines. Every day she wakes and considers escape, her wings are healed well enough, but she can't manage to work up the nerve for it. Something tells her she would only be shot down again, and not granted any medical attention the second time around. As she slithers back into the home she's been lent, she looks between the guards, somewhat unnerved despite her gentle smile and nod. "A good idea, it has been a busy day. I wouldn't mind a rest." She coils up next to the low stone table, facing perpendicular to the door, with an eye on the guards. Her hands are crossed over eachother on the table top to hide the slight shake they're suffering right now.
Narrator: One of the healers that has been tending to Louma's recovery, general needs, and keeping her company (When Louma allows it), is present in Louma's 'home'. She is currently cleaning it to the best of her ability. "Oh! You're back early." The female, small feathered raptor perks up, noting the guards entering. "O-oh." She stutters, picking up her cleaning supplies. "I'll, just. Um. Clean over here." She moves rooms.
Louma looks towards the attentive 'friend', sighing as her reaction to the guards' presence confirms part of her suspicions. She looks down at the jug of cool water on the table in front of her, pouring some into a matching carved cup to sip at. Basically trying to relax as best she can, even if handling the things exposes her nervousness a little more.
Narrator: There is noise at the front door, with one of Louma's 'escorts' opening it to reveal two additional soldiers, flanking the raptor who had so kindly brought Louma to this city, Usid the Swift, still adorned in his bone armor, although the skull helmet has been removed, revealing the plumed raptor beneath in all of his scarred glory.
Usid tilts his head to watch the female healer go, sneering in disdain, then turns his attention to Louma. "You are lucky, to be given such... honors. They tell me to call you 'sister', tell me to bow and give honor." He laughs, "But no honor from me, 'Sister'. No." He walks towards Louma, arms crossed, and begins pacing on the other side of the table from her.
Louma turns her attention to the door, looking at Usid with a note of mild surprise to her expression. Her eyes narrow slightly at his greeting before she lets on a slight smirk. She mutters, "I would hate to be so rude in return." before giving him a curt bow in greeting, though her eyes never lower from the cold stare in his direction. "I was wondering who would want me ushered into my home and guarded before they visited."
Usid snorts, slowing his pacing to stare back with an equally cold stare. "You are not worthy of Yzzayt. You are worthy of nothing. But maybe you know things. Maybe you wish to speak of foul things your former home has spawned, hm?"
Louma tilts her head, folding her hands on her coil as she straightens up, quite a bit taller in her seated position than Usid. "Oh? I might, but I forget a lot, ignorant as I am. You'll have to ask the right questions."
Usid hisses, staring up at Louma, not showing any sign of intimidation at her increased height, merely annoyance. "Games. Stupid Nyzai likes games." He pounds his chest, "Usid does not. The Walled City revels in summoning dark spirits in a vain attempt to defend themselves. The shadow wielding the blade of light... and the one-eyed ghost who cannot be killed." His anger rises at the latter. "What ARE they?"
Louma blinks at Usid, genuinely confused, and it shows for a moment. "The what? I don't have any idea what you're talking about."
Usid is about as subtle as a brick, walking up to the table quickly and gripping the stone, digging his claws in as he snaps up at Louma. "Heresy! They summon things that should not be! The One-Eyed ghost who fights with explosives and blade like a mortal, but does not die when struck! When exploded! His death should be heaped upon my glory!"
Louma grimaces at Usid's shouting, leaning away from him a little. "There are no ghosts that fight for Respite, and stop shouting. Describe him better than a one-eyed ghost and maybe I'll tell you what you're doing wrong."
Usid growls, but settles back, seeming content that Louma actually does intend to help. "One of the mammals. Long snout, and triangle ears. Dressed in a long coat. One eye was gone, dead and scarred. Used weapons like arrows, but held in one hand, exploding in a great boom." He snarls again. "I killed him! Yet he reformed from the smoke... I shot him again, but he... stopped the arrow somehow. He strode forward as if possessed..." Usid has stopped paying attention to Louma now, reliving the fight in his mind, and it's clear that some part of him is actually afraid.
Louma tilts her head the other way, listening to his description. It can't be... Is he describing a dog? In a long coat? "Gareth? Are you talking about a wolf, about yay tall?" She gestures roughly where she remembers Gareth standing to, though it's been a while? She chuckles, shaking her head. "He's not a Respite resident. Wait... You don't look injured, though. Not in the way he would have left you. Did... Did you flee?"
Usid 's fists tighten, outrage clear upon his face as he seethes at the accusation. But he makes no attempt to deny it. "The other... the shadow of darkness... wicked, monstrous, a thing of fear itself with tentacles, claws, things that should not be, wielding a sword of light. Unnatural..." He's shaking, in rage or fear, it's unclear which. Most likely both.
Louma can't help but let out a chuckle at Usid's barely suppressed rage, shaking her head slightly. "Shadow... That, I really do not know. Nothing that evil sounding would be allowed to live within Respite." She smiles politely, putting on a bit of sweet voice. "Would you like some pointers on defeating the one-eyed wolf? Maybe from someone strong enough to do so?"
Usid unconciously takes a step back from Louma before pulling himself together to straighten his pose, hissing the name out. "Gareth... the one-eyed wolf... How?"
Louma nods. "Well, first he's fast, and his guns can't be avoided, but if you fly at him from above... Oh." She shakes her wings as she mentions flying, pointedly looking at Usid's shoulders. "Hm. Since you can't do that, the other way is to slip past him, and wrap him with your long tail... Ah." She tsks, tilting her head a bit again. She shrugs after a moment. "Well... Perhaps just be better at aiming?"
Usid growls. "I hit him... explosive arrow, detonates on impact. A great explosion, boom! Gareth dead, gone. Then, reformed from smoke. I shot again. Struck him in the shoulder. He didn't stop. Just... kept coming. How do you defeat that, hm? Wings cannot give you an advantage against the dead."
Louma shrugs. "I suppose you wouldn't know how. He's not a ghost of any sort. You just missed your first shot. The second, well he's a seasoned fighter, and probably got pumped up by your first failed shot. They don't call him Wrath for no reason. Even so, I've had him pinned and struggling. I'll show you someday." Her last sentence is sweetened in tone, though with the vaguest threat underlining her last word.
Usid stares at Louma, something in his eye. The fear and rage is gone... some level of determination there. To do what, exactly...? "You. I call you unworthy. I call you prey." He seems to reconsider her. "I would know you. What is your name?"
Louma huffs, not caring much for the look he's giving her. "Louma, and I already know yours, of course, Usid." She doesn't bother with the title, though she does bow slightly out of habit after introducing herself. "You judge poorly if you think me unworthy, though. That may be your downfall."
Usid shakes his head, "It will not be so, Louma, this I promise you." He turns to begin walking towards the door. "My downfall it may be... but not for a lack of judgement, I think."
Louma watches Usid walk off, nodding after him. "Good luck then, warrior." Her hands unclench from eachother on her coil the farther from her he gets, the guard captain shuddering from nerves. She sighs, looking at the cup in front of her again.
Usid leaves the home with his two guards, the escorts provided to him when he demanded to see the captain. He turns to them both and dismisses them, then begins to walk back towards the beast pens. Gareth killed his last mount, after all. No dark magics or wraiths haunt Respite, but they fight with more worth than he had assumed. Something about this bothers him as he walks, lost in his thoughts...
Narrator: There is some shuffling talons from the other room, nervously tapping as they approach the room Louma is in. The feathered, small raptor healer pokes their head into the room. "Are, they, um. Gone?" They redundantly, and anxiously, ask Louma.
Louma nods, still looking down at her cup. "Yes, Tizza. Usid went on his way." She frowns, shaking her head slightly. "Gareth and the others had left... Them being back... Usid running into him..." She looks to Tizza. "They attacked another caravan, didn't they? More innocent lives lost in Yzzayt's name."
Tizza winces a little, almost retreating back into the room she was cleaning, though able to nervously push her way forward. "A-Ah. . .I don't. . .I. . . I'm sorry. I know that. . .You probably don't want to hear that from any of us here, let alone me. . ." Tizza sighs, moving to grab the jug of water on the table, shakily refilling Louma's cup. "Usid doesn't say much to me. . .I mean, he doesn't. . .Say much to anyone. But, um. He's never talked to me, I-I mean he doesn't talk like that to many people like that. You, um. You got his respect? Somehow. I just. . .How? I mean, I heard it all, but I still don't. . .Know how. ."
Louma watches Tizza, her anger with Usid and her realization of what he'd done fading slightly. "That was respect from him? I wouldn't want it. Such a..." She sighs, shaking her head again. "I don't know. I don't know anything about what is going on right now. It's so frustrating... Why is this happening? And only now?"
Tizza nods. "Y-yeah. . ." She confirms. "O-oh. . .You don't want it? You're. . .Um. Yeah. I guess you're right. I don't want it either." Tizza glances away, her shaky voice betraying her words however.
Tizza: "Our, um. Sometimes we don't have a Whisperer. When your. . .People came. They, um. Yzzayt was not in contact with our leaders. Many were unsure of what to do. Some wanted to fight, others to wait and see, others peace. Ultimately we did nothing. Then, Xeilzrus The Whisperer came along, and gave us Yzzayt's word. . .That was. . .Many storms ago now. Much preparation." Tizza sighs. "I. . .Um. . But. . .Yzzayt is our leader. We all live to serve him."
Louma tilts her head slightly, then nods. "I see, then. No contact because nobody could know what the settlers' intentions were, or what Yzzayt would want done about them. Respite isn't terribly old, after all." She sighs, picking up the freshly filled cup and taking a drink as she thinks for a few moments. "I was not born among you all, I come from a different land with different customs." She bows her head toward Tizza for a moment. "Would you help me learn, please?"
Tizzalooks like a deer in the headlights for a moment, collecting herself before smiling, "I would be honoured, Sister Louma. Please-" Tizza takes a seat, "Tell me what you wish to know."
Louma offers Tizza a cautious smile, though it's clear from the way her hands are clenched that she's still processing Usid's accidental news. "Hm... Well, I know nothing of what Yzzayt wants of us, other than that this land is his, meant for his children."
Tizza: "Only Xeilzrus truly knows what Yzzayt wants. But it's clear that Yzzayt cares for us. I would, um. Like to believe that there could be peace between us and your Respite, but. . .Yzzayt is all. If he does not see that there could be peace. . .I'm. . ." Tizza glances away. "I can only be sorry."
Louma sets her cup down, shaking her head slightly. "It's not for you to apologize. You don't make the orders, you haven't got blood on your hands. Yzzayt's will is law... I understand that very well. Where I was born... Coatl's ruled similarly, by birthrite. Perhaps in our deep history they were Whisperers as well, I don't know." She pauses, chuckling as she realizes perhaps she is more ignorant than she thought. "But eventually, a neighboring people ended that, and the snakes were freed of their rule. I am not old enough to remember them, and many from that time don't believe that our people were not free before then." She shrugs, nodding to Tizza. "I am sure Xeilzrus knows what Yzzayt wants, and is directing us correctly."
Tizza: "Perhaps, though if you are unlikely to know, I am less so." Tizza replies. "Perhaps I may not have blood on my hands directly, Sister Louma. But ultimately, we Saurs are all one. Usid fights. I heal his wounds." Tizza sighs. "I just. . .Wish Usid. . .Appreciated me, I mean that. . .All the times I've healed him after his training. . ."
Louma sighs, looking down to her cup. "Some folks are very single-minded, they just ignore those who they should appreciate... Hold on... Do you have an attraction to Usid?"
Tizza: "Ah!" Tizza perks in surprise and embarrassment that Louma had figured it out. "I, um, no, maybe?. . .Yes." She eventually admits, bringing her hands up to cover the lower half of her face for a silent moment.
Louma side-eyes Tizza for a few seconds, but can't help for giggling a moment later. The saur across the table from her is acting awfully cute about it after all. "Well nothing to be embarrassed about, I suppose. I wouldn't judge you, all I know is the fighter side of him." She shrugs, apparently still in the mood for taunting as she continues. "It's his loss, you do have a very gentle touch."
Tizzasighs out quietly in relief. "Thank you. ." Tizza nods, though feels guilty about it. "I, um. He's. . .Motivated. Determined. Brave. Despite his size, few look down on him. . ." Tizza speaks with admiration of these qualities. "But. . .You see the way he looked at me when he came in. . .?" She sighs, disheartened this time.
Louma shakes her head slightly. "I did. Is that always how it is, or is that because you're helping me?" She pauses, shrugging. "Perhaps if he has a little more respect for me, it may grant you a little less of that look? I don't know. not knowing seems to be my curse right now."
Tizza: "I don't know. . .Usually he's a bit like that? But it was. . .Certainly worse this time. I, um. I hope you're right." Tizza sighs. "Is it. . .Disrespectful to ask you for advice, Sister Louma? Do you have anyone you care about?"
Louma hesitates, her expression falling as she looks down to the cup. She had been doing so well, keeping her mind busy. After the first few days of thinking of little other than Maybelline, the captain had locked her mind on learning what she could of these people and considering how to get out. A focus technique that broke down every night. Even talking about Tizza's attraction to Usid, she was still firmly, deliberately focused on the saurs, but the woman across from her had picked at just the right crack. "I... I do, yes. And I worry about her every night. How alone she's been left... I-I would not be able to help you there, we... Found eachother through blind luck, and her willing to take the risk of b-being with me..." Her shoulders shake before she crosses her arms, looking aside.
Tizza frowns solemnly, realizing that she perhaps should not have asked that question. "I'm. . .Sorry." Tizza mutters. "I. . .Wish you were back there. With her. Not here. I miss Usid when he's gone, but. . .That's by his choice at least. . ."
Louma shudders, trying to maintain herself but the gates have already been opened. "I... I-I worry... That you will succeed... That Usid and Nyzai will breach the town... Th-that they... Th-they will hurt her..." Her eyes clench shut as tears roll over her cheeks. "I-if..." She shudders again, tilting her head down with a cough. "If they did... I... I would have nothing... I-I..." She lets out a growling note, slamming her fist on the table. "Would h-have nothing to lose... If Usid touches... A single whisker... I will crush every bone..."
Tizza softens at this, frowning at the situation in general. She's unsure if she should comfort Louma, her indecision causing her not to anyway for a few moments of silence. She winces and saddens further at the thought of Usid being crushed under the coils of the snake before her. "This is. . .Not a situation either of us enjoy being in." Tizza sighs. "I. . .Want Yzzayt to be wrong. Many of us do, actually. . .That there could be peace. . .We are scared as well, Sister Louma. That we will lose our home, our lives. . .Neither of us deserve to live in fear like this."
Louma considers Tizza for a moment, the tears still running freely down her cheeks and under her bill, though the heat in her quickly dies from anger back to sadness and fear. "N-none should die in th-the name of a 'god', even Yzzayt..." She seems to deflate a little, hunched over the table and trying to stifle her sobs. She can't get May's face out of her mind now, and likely wont until the morning. "I just... I-I just wants everyone to be safe..."
Tizza: "Yzzayt is no god. He is. . .More. But. . .Maybe he will stop if he can see peace as an option. Everyone deserves to be safe. . ." Tizza quickly hushes, leaning in closer to Louma. "Maybe. . .I can help you, Sister Louma. Help you leave. Then you can talk to your Respite."
Louma blinks, immediately suspicious. "Wh... Why? ... How?"
Tizza: "I. . .I don't know. But. . .I want to believe. That Yzzayt is wrong. Tizza help you. Tizza and Sister Louma help bring peace? I don't know. But. . .Peace means no fighting. No fighting means no deaths. . .Good for both Respite and Yzzayt." Tizza doesn't sound like she truly believes her words. What can she do to change Yzzayt's mind? What if she's wrong about Louma, and she'll have aided the enemy?
Louma uncrosses her arms, straightening up and glancing toward the main entrance. She turns back to Tizza, a gleam of cautious hope in her eyes. The first she'd felt since being shot down. "I... Believe you... And you a-are right, I can convince Respite to stand down if Xeilzrus c-can be reasoned with... What... What do we do?"
Tizza: "I. . .Don't know. Xeilzrus probably won't listen to me, but. . .He might listen to Usid, or one of Yzzayt's other chosen. . .He and Yzzayt listened to Dyvrisse The Keeper in the past, I know that much. . ." Tizza replies. "I. . .Um. I don't know how to get you out. But. . .There are others in town who agree that one of our siblings should not be held in captivity. Even if they are against Respite, they're not against you specifically. So. . .Maybe. . .I can convince someone to help."
Louma lowers her gaze, considering telling Tizza not to put herself in danger for her sake... She should, it wouldn't be right for the healer to get in trouble for assisting in her escape. Louma wants to protect her, it's in her nature, but she can't pass the opportunity up. She looks back to Tizza with a nod. "Carefully, and quietly. I will be eternally grateful, and we may save lives."
Tizza: "I'll, um. Do what I can. Even if you trust me not for Respite's sake, I feel I owe at to at least us Saurs and Yzzayt the opportunity to avoid further bloodshed. And it stands to reason that logic stands up in reverse." Or, at least, Tizza hopes. With that, she stands, preparing to leave.
Louma nods to Tizza, wiping away some of her tears, though they have not fully stopped. She rises slightly, bowing to her. "Thank you for your help today, Tizza. Be safe."
Tizza: "And you, Sister Louma, rest well." Tizza offers, leaving Louma's 'home'.
Louma nods, watching Tizza go. She turns away, returning to the back chamber of the abode, shuddering. Once out of sight of the main entrance, Louma curls up on the floor, gripping her coil as she feels the pent up anguish wash over her. She spends the rest of the day in the room, sobbing her loneliness and worry out until she's exhausted.
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RESPITE CLINIC - EVENING
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Doc Plume has just finished tidying up after a long day of tending to more caravanners in addition to the increasing number of folks in town. They click the switch to turn off the lights in the clinic before heading up to their apartment to try to unwind.
Nesseth returns to the clinic a little while after Plume's locked up for the evening, having escorted Maximillian to the barracks for a report, and then accompanied him back to wherever he and the rest of his group planned to stay at for the time being before breaking off to head to Plume's again. He notes the clinic's lights are off, so he just goes to unlock the door and let himself in.
Doc Plume is just stretched out on their bed with a well-worn novel open in front of them, losing themself in the familiar warmth of a tawdry romance story. When Nesseth comes up, they look over and smile at him. "Ah, evening dear..."
Nesseth smiles at Plume as he enters the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him as he mounts the last steps. "Evening, dear. You alright?"
Doc Plume sits up and ruffles their wings a bit. "Mostly, yes... just a long day. Lots of hurt folk from that caravan. I'm just glad that Tarbin can help with the simple stuff and let me focus on those worse off.
Nesseth hums as he moves forward to give Plume a kiss on their beak. "Mmh, yeah, having Tarbin helping makes things a bit easier on you. What was that stuff that arrived with the owlbear, by the way?"
Doc Plume marks their place in the book and sets it on the bedside table as they focus on the handsome lizard, kissing him back. "Oh, uh... just a big piece of new equipment... an osteoscope. Lets me see the bones inside someone without having to cut into them. Will help with setting breaks and stuff." They sigh a bit and shake their head. "Not sure why the family decides to send me such an extravagant gift right now though... but I guess it's better than like, my father coming here and trying to drag me back to Vamas or whatever."
Nesseth gives Plume a soft hug, but blinks and tilts his head at the news. "Huh... I can see it'd make your job a lot easier, but... Didn't you say your family didn't know you were out here?"
Doc Plume hugs back and gives a deep sigh. "I thought they didn't, but then I got a letter about a month ago... just said this was coming, and that if I insist on living how I do, that I shouldn't bring the family any shame. Not sure who tracked me down, but it's better than a lot of possibilities."
Nesseth hums quietly. "Mmh... that's strange, but I guess at least they're just letting you stay here in peace. Maybe this just means you don't have to worry about being bothered?"
Doc Plume gives another sigh. "Sure, I hope so, but that machine is worth a small fortune. Right now only big hospitals have one. I'm probably the first private doctor anywhere to get one. I'm not sending it back or anything, but it... a lot." They stand up and start pacing a bit. "Why send it to a family pariah? Why not donate it to some hospital to look philanthropic?"
Nesseth steps back a bit and watches Plume start to pace. "I can't say I know how your family works, but... well, pariah or not, you're still their child. Attitude aside, they probably still want you to succeed in your path."
Doc Plume makes their way to the kitchen to put on the kettle before taking a seat at the small table there. "Yes, that's fair. I suppose I am the only Silver-Talon in Aephix, so that's not nothing..." They shake their head and sigh. "The timing of all of this is awful though. I mean, with the crop failures and the raids and all... I already had my hands full before any of this nonsense..."
Nesseth hums and moves to take a seat with Plume at the table, reaching a hand forward to gently clasp onto one of theirs. "Terrible timing, yeah, but then they're all the way in Vamas, and I doubt word of all of this has even left Bairnell's Foothold yet. I don't think there were any ill intentions in this one, at least as best as I can tell, dear, especially since the shipment had to have been sent weeks ago, before all this even started."
Doc Plume squeezes Nesseth's hand warmly, though their talons do press a bit harder against his scales than normal. "Oh, I know that..." She looks down at the table again as a thought works its way through her head. "Maybe it's not for the worst though. I've heard that the agent and his crew did a lot to repel that attack, is that true?"
Nesseth 's scales do a good job of protecting his hand from any accidental injuries from Plume's talons, and he smiles as he gently squeezes their hand in turn. "From the details given from the other caravaneers as well as the agent, yeah. Their expertise, along with a few other strong fighters that weren't affiliated with the Bairnell guards, was enough of a tipping point to let the caravan get through the attack with only a single death."
Doc Plume reluctantly releases Nesseth's hand as the kettle boils, standing up to fix the tea. "Your usual for the evening, dear?"
Nesseth smiles warmly and nods as he lets go of Plume's hand. "Please, dear. A bit of tea sounds nice right about now."
Doc Plume sets about the making the tea, just making Nesseth's preferred blend right now as they're not too fussed about what they drink. "So, I have an idea... I'll probably catch hell for it from the family, but it's not like I asked for them to involve themselves in my business."
Nesseth hums curiously. "An idea? What sort of idea?"
Doc Plume brings the teapot over to the table before fetching the milk from the icebox. "Well... we need everyone we can for this fight, right? And the rescue you're planning? And there aren't any caravans heading back to Bairnell anytime soon, I think... so..."
Nesseth shrugs a bit. "We're not taking everyone with us. Some of the guards will be left to keep the town safe while the rest head out for the rescue. Depending on how the captains decide to work the supplies, we may need to spare a few for the supply lines, if anything."
Doc Plume nods. "Right, but you need everyone for the effort..." They sit down after pouring the tea and hold the warm cup in their hands. "Let me put it to you straight, do you want Maximillian and his crew to be involved?"
Nesseth tilts his head a bit. "Uh... I can see what you're getting at, and while their expertise could be helpful, I'd rather they make the choice themselves than to be ordered to do so, especially since they're bystanders. They might be good in a skirmish or two, because of potential brigandry, but I'd rather not force them into a full-scale battle they may not be equipped to deal with without preparation."
Doc Plume cocks their head both ways, then just nods. They take a sip of tea before replying. "That's reasonable. Since Maximillian is a family agent, I could order them to do it, but voluntary cooperation is probably better, yes. When you ask, though, you can at least tell them that I would very much like them to help."
Nesseth hums quietly, thinking as he gazes at the surface of the tea in the cup in his hands. "So, uh... when I go to ask, then... how likely is it that hinting you want him and his crew to help would be taken as being, er... "voluntold", as it were?"
Doc Plume laughs a bit. "Depends how much he knows. If he thinks I'm really just a Plume, then not at all. One of the more prestigious lesser families, but still not a Silver-Talon. If he knows the truth, then maybe? You can tell him it's not an order, though, or to come talk to me if he seems iffy about it."
Nesseth lets out a bit of a laugh of his own and nods slightly. "Right... well, I'll go and find him soon and ask. If he's willing, then their expertise would be helpful. From what we've heard, the entire group fought better than most of the guards."
Doc Plume sips their tea and looks at Nesseth with a warm gaze. "You're a good man, Nesseth. Even in a crisis, you won't force someone to do something." They shake their head. "I probably shouldn't have been thinking it, but everything is just so much right now, and well, my family is what it is..."
Nesseth smiles a little bashfully. "Well, every little bit of help is good, and we do think perhaps a little differently, but that's not a bad thing. It lets us see different perspectives."
Doc Plume takes another sip of tea. "Right, well that's that sorted, I guess." Their shoulders sag as some pent up stress goes out of them. "So..." The two descend into idle chit chat about unimportant things as they both decompress a bit from their days, just enjoying each others' company for the evening.