Megathread - (Event) War Relief | Page 2

Ilya had practically no useful skills when it came to helping with the sick and injured. Only having chosen skills such as her own body combat, she was centered around the idea of fighting her way out. Even if she could manage to go hunting she would more than likely maim any animal she hunted. The cons of having body combat.. I should have picked something more.. useful. Without knowing what to do, she could only ask around. Her own body found its way to the large tents set up just a "blink" away from the walls. With newfound hope she made her way towards the nearest doctor she could find. Without hesitation she offered her services. Knowing now what had to be done upon given instructions, she began her own job. Despite not being able to cook at all, nor heal her task held importance. She was instructed to be not only a messenger but also a delivery girl. She would run to the kitchens and bring back fresh food for each patient and doctor alike. Starting her job, she began by entering the kitchen. A bowl of bread sat upon the counter, freshly baked. Ilya's mouth watered slightly at the smells wafting in the air. She grinned widely and grabbed the bowl of bread. Now for something sustainable.. She reached for the next bowl to look inside. It held grilled meat. She switched off her basket of bread for the bowl of grilled meat. Her now free hand grabbed a stack of bowls and a stack of cups. She also noticed out of the corner of her eye a girl producing ice. She walked up to the girl, @Claire Thalassa "Would you like to join me? I could use someone who can produce water. I am supposed to deliver food and water to patients and doctors.. Although I do not have enough hands, to carry a water jug on top of all of this stuff.. Besides everything is better when you have someone to talk to and help you." Ilya smiled kindly at the girl as she held out the stack of cups she had grabbed only minutes prior.

 

Claire got a few thanks as she went about distributing her plates. A bit more substantial than just a few words, Claire was briefly surprised by the offering that a small girl handed to her. No, not a young girl, Claire realized, a faerin. She smiled at @Harveste, accepting the leaf. "Thank you," she replied, tucking that away in her inventory for future use. "I'm sure it'll be very helpful."

She glanced out at the line of patients, frowning when she saw how many there were. "The same to you. We don't have many healers, so we don't want any collapsing from exhaustion or worse. Be sure to eat and drink." She nodded at the plates and cups she set down, and continued on her way after a brief chat and farewell.

As she was continuing, she saw another woman helping out as a delivery person, essentially. Looks like they had come to the same idea of trying to hand out food. Well, there was still a lot of camp to cover, and two pairs of hands was better than just one. "Certainly," she said with a smile. "Here, let me handle that." She took the water jug from @Ilya, and noting how it was half-empty, refilled it with a brief incantation. After taking the cups as well, they set off on their task.

"My name is Claire," she offered. "What's yours?"

 

She was glad that the stranger had accepted her attempt at being helpful, especially considering they'd been so kind as to worry about her! With a soft giggle, she waved when @Claire Thalassa was departing, heading back to her rounds. It was nice of her to take care of the healers, too. It was funny, in a way, that she was reminding them to take care of themselves as well. It was a reminder Harveste had certainly needed, though, as she took a sip of water and a bite of food before washing herself frugally, taking on her next injured warrior.

Pale from just how much blood she was seeing, a sigh escaped her where the laughter had once been. "Gonna need some more natural celox, some elderberries... actually, this looks like it's a little more severe. Yep, I'm gonna go with comfrey root. This looks more like a burn." Slowly, she sang her way to the plants she needed- none of which grew normally in this soil, but would be willing if they'd be of use to her. With a smile, she began her treatment once more.

"To think I never wanted to be a doctor, but I'm playing it now. Grandma would be proud. Surprised and maybe irritated based on where I am, but she'd still be proud."

 

Bradwynne then reached the tent where the shouts came from. These apparently came from some doctors who were trying to tend on a patient with his gut almost torn and laid bare by a grievous wound. The patient was coughing out blood, and if not tended the wound would lead to his death. Bradwynne then clasped his hands and chanted that same Hebrew phrase. He then moved his glowing hand towards the wound, as if to cover the wound with his hands. The wound then became smaller until it became imperceptible. After that, seeing an edible fruit that maybe was left by a family member, he took a small mortar and pestle, mashed the fruit, and then force fed the patient with it. He then clasped his hands again, said the same phrase, and then put his glowing hands on the person's abdomen. The pallor of the person's body became rosy again, but it would be just temporary. With adequate care the patient would become healthy again.

As Bradwynne was drying his face with a towel after he had healed the patient, he was suddenly surprised by some voice saying, "Bastard." He turned around at the speaker, and said, in an incredulous but not angry tone, "Who, me?" He then realized that the person that he was talking to was the same person he saw conjuring images near a patient that was being operated upon. As she clarified that it was not him who she referred to, among other things, he then said, "I thought it was me you're referring to," while scratching his nape. As another patient with a broken thigh with the bone protruding from the flesh was rushed to his presence, he then said, as he surveyed the wound, and after he had clasped his hands and said the same phrase as before, "Just doing my job. And... sad to say I am a magnet for disaster. Even when the jar is not there, something else might have happened. Maybe I should be careful while walking next time." Fortunately it did not became a disaster for the person with the broken bone, as the pieces were joined again and then become coated again by complete muscles.

@Alkaid Zexis

 

Having gathered ingredients before the war, now was a good time to use them, along with anything else Astorea and the other players were willing to provide. Inside the cooking tent, several chefs in aprons were busy preparing food that would then be distributed, either at the same tent or sent to others. There were just too many people to feed.

Entering the cooking tent, she donned an apron and joined the ranks of busy chefs. Unfortunately, even if Sylpha had the dough, there wasn't enough time or space in the ovens to put bread into. It was crammed with as much food as it could safely cook, and all the bread being given out had been made beforehand.

In this kind of situation, soups were the best as it could be kept hot. But after all the pots were filled, there was more heat to be used and people who could not wait the hours for a soup to be boiled. For that, pans were set to work. Sylpha was among those working the pans. She had experience in a professional kitchen, but since she did not produce dishes of proteins, the Yladian lagged behind. As the meat was lamb, Sylpha pressured herself to make sure whatever left her hands was not over or under.

Once her hands started moving, they were not allowed to rest. Pull up a pan, lamb meat, herbs, onions, carrots, throw into oven. Once one pan went into the oven to roast, she had to turn around to prepare another. Then, keeping track of her own time, she had to pull out her own pans before they became overcooked and handed them off to someone else. She didn't even have time to chop the vegetables herself; that was someone else's job.

Feeding both the injured and the working was very hard work.

 

He had hunted down and brought food; they would have enough to eat for at least the next few days. If the supply ran low, it wouldn’t be a problem for him just to go out and hunt a bit more. There was a good number of rams that lived on the mountain range, and they were straightforward enough hunting in most cases. And it seemed that some of the other players were already taking care of the food, so even if he didn’t hunt, they wouldn’t run out of food. He needed something do to the sheet was washed and dried, and the nurses had already torn the sheets into ready to use bandages. He had helped to wrap those bandages into ready to use packages, but now his hands were empty.

There was no need to make a trip to get fresh water it seemed that a few of the player was able to create through the use of magic. It was times like this he was impressed by the world players were able to do things that were so far out the realm of normality, it was always a joy to see. Even if it was in a terrible situation like this, but they were pulling together to make the case better, if they were just able to keep this up then there would be a good chance that at least some of the injured would make it. He had done the simple thing, but there were still people that needed help. The medical tent was off limit he was bold, but he wasn’t stupid if he was to step foot in there then that was going to end terribly.

Following one of the nurses around for most of the day helping to relive their workload, it was simple for him, but he could see how having someone to help ease their day. So he worked changing bed pans and old sheet washing them out before replacing with clean. His bedside manner could have used a bit of work, but at least all the sheets were clean. He helped them out of their robes and into clean clothing; he had to be gentle with them to ensure that he didn’t make their condition worse. It was slow work, but it was something that affected just the general mood of the encampment was getting better. It wasn’t as depressing as it had been in the beginning. People were starting to look up, and that was good the will to live was the most important thing. As long as he was able to keep that up, then there was a good chance that they would pull through.

Helping the last of the patients back into the bed before starting to make his rounds with bowls of stew with some bread, there were rounds to go.

 

Ilya's wide grin became more eminent as the girl agreed to help her with her newfound task. The girl whom she had made contact with introduced herself as Claire. Ilya could not help but grin, This girl is definitely different than the likes of @Zelrius Something with which I am very thankful.. She seems much nicer.. Ilya's own thoughts preserved in her mind as she processed the girl's question. Upon finding the girl's name, she took a good look. Definitely looks like a Claire. "My name is Ilya, a pleasure to meet you, especially with a pretty name such as yours!" She could not help but compliment the blue eyed female. Reaching her first stop, she set down the stack of bowls and the grilled meat. She filled up a few bowls with meat and started to hand them out, "So, what mastery makes you able to conjure up water? And I might be over filling the conversation with so many questions, but what other masteries did you choose?" Ilya started to make small talk with her new partner as she continued handing bowls off to the patients and doctors alike. The whole mastery system stood out to Ilya as it gave them different paths they could take. As she continued to ponder on what masteries she thought the girl had taken, her heart grew heavy as she remembered the uselessness of her own in the specific situation they were in.
@Claire Thalassa

 

“Can you help?”

Only three words, but the raw emotion held within them nearly brought Magdalyn to her knees. “Uh, yeah,” she answered shakily, reaching up to rub at the dirt and sweat on her face.Lena had played straight-through the war, leaving only long enough to tend to her cat and eat. She had gone to camp with the intention of logging out, and maybe grabbing a few (or twelve) hours of sleep. The death and destruction she had witnessed was taking its toll, and she knew she needed to to rest for her physical and mental health. But the big, brown doe-eyes that peered up at her, and the small squeak of a voice were impossible to ignore. Why, came Magdalyn’s pained thought, was there a child in a place like this? “What is it that you need?”

“Everything,” she stated, with a simplicity and honesty that broke Mags’ heart. She wrapped her arms about her small body, and looked the tall woman up and down. Groans of the injured mingled with the hushed murmur of many voices, the soundtrack to any somber gathering. The day had ended in victory, but there was little celebrating going on. Instead, the men, women, and apparently, children, were more focused on cleaning up the fallout. And there was so, so much of it. The girl’s voice startled Mags back to the present. “Can you help the people who are hurt?”

“I can try,” she confirmed, giving a short nod. “I am able to heal, but I’m not nearly as skilled as some others.”

The girl shook her head, her mop of tangled curls falling over her shoulder. Under the grime, Mags imagined the little one looked a bit like Shirley Temple. But there was nothing fragile, or child-like, about her. She looked like a warrior. Forced to grow up too fast, Mags thought. That was the harsh reality of war. “Whatever you can do will help,” the girl continued. “Follow me.”

And she did, allowing the child to lead her. As they wove between tents, and around piles of supplies, Magdalyn finally put voice to her thoughts. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“What?” The girl glanced back over her shoulder, her bewilderment clear on her small, round face.

Mags spread her arms out, motioning to her surroundings. “Here,” she answered, “in a place like this. In a TIME like this.”

Her companion frowned, then shook her head to express the confusion that still plagued her. “Where else would I go?”

Helplessly, Mags shrugged. “I don’t know. Your home?”

Her expression never wavered. Not even the faintest trace of distress, or sadness, or anger, ghosted across the girl’s face as she replied, “Our home was destroyed.”

The player felt as if she had been smacked across the face. In fact, she wished she had been, as it would be preferable to the overwhelming guilt that gripped her heart. “Oh,” Mags said, her voice strained. “I’m so sorry.”

 

This body was much different than what she was used to.

After her rebirth, Savannah spent the next hour walking, running, rolling, and parrying in this new body. It felt…familiar and foreign at the same time. She was used to being closer to the ground and had to shift her weight accordingly to take advantage of her shorter, stockier frame. This body had none of the hang-ups and reminded her of her real-life attributes. Thus, her overcompensating had to be unlearned.

By the time she made it toward the relief area, she was tired. There was a thin film of sweat on her brow and spine and her fingers hurt from gripping her halberd too tightly. She didn’t need to, she kept reminding herself, and she didn’t have to move so fast to keep up with the longer strides of the humans around her. She was, once again, human, to some extent. The looks she got, the raised eyebrows specifically, only made her chuckle.

Entering one of the tents that had been erected, she looked for the person in charge.

How can I help? she immediately asked, the light glow from her eyes dimming so that the brown pupil could be seen. I don’t have any healing magic, but I’m an okay blacksmith and –

“Getting the weapons in working condition again isn’t a top priority at the moment, but it won’t hurt to get the process started. There’s a blacksmith on the other side of the camp that you can report to.”

Savannah gave a nod of her head, inky black tendrils of hair falling into her face as she did so, before she pivoted on her heel and made her way from the tent to the other side of the camp.​

 

Ilya reached to grab another one of her bowl's and filled it with the grilled meat. Time to hand out some more.. I cannot stop until I have done all I can... I am practically useless if I do anything else.. Ilya gripped the bowl tightly in her hand as she walked towards the nearest doctor, "Here you go.. It is fresh grilled meat.. It should help a bit..." The doctor then continued to thank her before she left his tent and went to grab more food. The same thing repeated a number of times as she continued on her job. Her heart started to ache as she saw the conditions of the soldiers, It is all so bad.. I wish I could do more than just pass out food... A nearby injured soldier called out to her, asking for her to keep him company as he laid in pain. She nodded her head and gave the bowl she was handing away to another person. She then continued to move over to the patient and sit by his bed. "Your face gives me courage." With a smile appearing on Ilya's face she felt his hand as he laid in pain telling him of her adventures thus far.

 

Eventually she made way past the strange girl, with cute-ish ignorance, and settled herself among chefs. She knew little to nothing about cooking but could make herself useful with turning animal carcasses into edible food as well as identifying plants brought in by scavengers. Not to mention her back-and-forth of hunting a ways off and then getting the defeated prey to camp. This tedious labor felt foreign to hands thin and delicate. Soft with no sign of callouses from a life of waving maids to and fro with a flick of the wrist. Lithe fingers knew how to weave intricate braids with strands of hair but failed to bake pre-made cookies properly. However, the same fingers were able to work a bow and arrow with deadly precision even while trembling with a well-acquainted fear. Such potential finally put to use for crafting baskets and giving war victims a sense of confidence and feeding those who were starving or eventually would be. The soft smiles of children blessed with long hair dancing around despite the hard times filled Comet's heart with a feeling she disliked; but, it certainly would take some getting used to.

Maybe, she thought, helping others does come with benefits. Though the work of an aid proved to be more morally uplifting rather than satisfying a greed that wouldn't so easily give up its home within the pink-haired woman's soul of unrest. Deep inside the showing off of skills and experience in-game and perfecting the world around her kept Comet grounded. Kept her busy with the war relief. Kept her from running away to pursue other things that would result in gold or praise or self-improvement. Not just a foreign reaction to the world or dedication to Astorea had the power to tie back the traits that happened to define her in the strongest ways. The pageant queen remained blinded by a desire to both restore Astorea and console its people. To realize she wasn't any better, driven by ulterior albeit hidden motives, would hit her sooner or later.

 

He had done all he could; he had hunted for food in the mountains until he was tired and weary. There was deer that he had managed to get from the woods a near the encampment and ram from the mountain range. There were enough basic materials to stretch the food portions along, a meal of potatoes and meat might not have been the best, but it would have been fulling at least. There were a few barrels he that he was able to help peel along with helping to make the brine to pickle some vegetables. He had done a significant amount of the grunt work in the camp trying to give the nurses and doctors as much time as possible.

However, he could see he was started to get under the foot of those working they were too polite to say it to his face, but he could tell. There had to be something else that he could do but nothing else came to mind and as much as he would have liked to say around. If he could no longer help here then there were other places that he needed to be, time wasted was time that he could never regain. So he went on one finally hunt grabbing up his bow and strapping on his quiver, and he set out for the mountain range. There had to be something that he could find out there something fatty with a good flavor, while deer and ram both had tasty meat. It wasn’t something like a nice fattened pig if he could find that he was sure the smell alone would be able to keep a few more people from giving up. Comfort food could improve the mood of anyone and the cooks at the camp knew that.

So he waits in a nicely hidden crevice watching everything that passed along that range, it was one of those times that he put every bit of his stealth training to work. His breath was slow and steady the same as his heart rate, and any erroneous movement was all but eliminated. He was a part of the mountainside itself and as he waited many animals pasted him by but they were not what he was hunting. They hand ram meat, and they even had tiger meat, but he wanted to give them something else before he left. So he waited until he saw at the perfect boar, it was a thing of beauty the beast was almost the size of him, with tusks almost a foot long. That would be a good amount of meat, and it would be just the thing to bring up the mood before he left. So he pulled back his bock a black-shafted arrow nocked in the string and waited for the perfect shot before firing. His first shot missed its mark catching the beast on its side but his second was right on the target hitting the beast in the eye killing it. Now it just time to clean the creature he wasn’t going to carry something back to camp that needed major cleaning. So he gutted, skinned and cleans the boar before carrying it back to the camp and leaving it with the cooks. Making a final round wish as many of the injured good health as possible before leaving.

--Exit thread--

 

"Don't be sorry," the girl answered plainly, giving a small shrug. "There's nothing anyone could do. And we're all hurt by it the same way."

The tight knot of guilt in the pit of her stomach kept Magdalyn from forming any sort of answer. So they trudged on together, until the NPC slowed to a stop in front of a small tent. "You can go inside," she informed Mags, "they could use the help."

A sudden hesitation kept the player from moving forward, and caught her words in her throat. She had been fighting, and killing, for the entirety of the battle. Now, emotionally and physically exhausted, she found herself suddenly flighty. She imagined rows of cots, jammed too closely together, with the dead and dying perched atop them. She imagined the smell of death, and the sensation of watching the light leave a person's eyes for the last time. Finally, she was able to stutter, "Wh-who is in there?"

"Just people who aren't hurt too badly," came the girl's answer. "You mentioned you were new to healing, so I thought you could help with broken bones, and that sort of thing."

Mags could have kissed the girl for taking such a thing into consideration, and sparing her from any further death. Her guilt was nearly overpowering now, especially after she found herself too afraid of the mortally wounded to give them some much-needed aid. "Thank you," Magdalyn said, placing a dirty hand on the child's shoulder. There were no goodbyes exchanged, but Mags recognized that both of them had places to be. So her hand gave a final squeeze, and she ducked through the tent flap.

 

The other side of the camp was…desolate. Savannah’s soft footfalls suddenly grew quiet and still as she realized how…remote this area seemed. There were no close by tents, no scents of wafting food, just a few bodies that were either sleeping or dead and a pile of weapons.

Savannah could recognize a few of them as the ones that the troops of Astorea used against the invading forces, but there were other pieces she had never seen before. Standing where she was, she squinted at them and turned up her face, her lips thinning into a light frown.

Well, the first thing would be to separate the familiar weapons from the unfamiliar ones and then she would know what she could work with. Silently as a ghost, the woman walked purposefully over to the pile and squatted next to it. Her fingers grasp the worn leather pommel of a short sword, the blade crusted with blood.

She openly winced at that and cast it off to the right of her, her mind deciding that where-ever that sword landed would be the beginning of the familiar weapons. When her hands encountered a shield with spikes on the outside and fur on the inside, she cast it to her left, her mind believing that to be pile of weapons she wasn’t sure what to do with.

And so, the sorting began. Familiar weapons to the right, unfamiliar to the left. Everything seemed covered in blood or remnants of flesh or bone. Gritting her teeth, she powered through it, her face only turning away from the carnage of her task when she reached the weapons that were still attached to arms or clawed knuckles that still had hands attached to them.

She was no priest, no woman of the cloth, but a part of her thought that, at the very least, these pieces should be buried in the ground or burned. It was only right…right? So, in a third smaller pile, Savannah compiled fingers, hands, arms, and bones.​

 

"@Ilya, right. Pleasure to meet you. Your name's very nice as well." She didn't know much about her chosen game name being a pretty one or not, but it was a nice compliment to hear nonetheless. "And thank you."

At the first stop, as Ilya began taking care of the food, Claire started getting the water ready. She poured out some cups and set them by the plates, listening to the general chatter to see if there was anything interesting going on. At Ilya's question, her lips quirked briefly. "Ah, that would be Hydromancy. The creation menu said it dealt with water and ice magic. I figured it fit with the general aesthetic," she added, gesturing to her white hair and blue scarf.

"Aside from that, I chose Polearms as a weapon, and Rogue for a bit of stealth. Better to have all bases covered, so I'd be able to handle a variety of situations." She sighed as she refilled the jug again. "Though it doesn't help much with treating wounds, I'll admit. That's why I don't have much else to do other than be a water dispenser or a cooler. And yourself? Which masteries did you choose?"