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Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Last post by Bynw on Today at 08:10:18 pm »
The Scholar rises just around dawn and checks the surroundings. Once he is certain things are clear as the Wards did not alert him of any intruders during the night. He gets ready for the day's work. Allowing Washburn to sleep and wake naturally. He dresses more like a warrior than a scholar in the early morning light. Then he prepares and eats his own food before preparing the drugged food for Washburn.

Among the Scholar's provisions are several wineskins, each with a different colored cap. Red, blue, green. He also has a satchel containing powders, herbs, and other apothecary items. By the time Washburn awakes the Scholar is busy with a mortar and pestle. Grinding and crushing a mix of dried and fresh plants along with a powdered substance all mixed with a bit of wine. Making a thick blue syrup within the mortar.

As Washburn awakes, the pain in his left arm is all but gone. The blood loss hasn't been great or life threatening and seems to have stopped again. Fortunately the wound wasn't that deep. 

He can feel that the restrictive controls have been released but most likely able to be tripped with a mere thought from his captor now working on whatever substance is within the mortar. His normal speaking voice is available to him, but still unable to scream. And he can move his limbs.
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Last post by Laurna on Today at 08:03:47 pm »
The command to sleep had brought a quick oblivion in the middle of the night. Hours latter, however, pain and light-headedness had woken Sir Washburn, even before the sun chose to lighten the sky overhead. As he woke, he wanted to swear to the world about what an awful nightmare he had. But then he breathed in a mouthful of the fur that he lay on, and he felt the throb in his upper arm; he knew then his circumstances were all too real. He almost moved, but for a warm touch upon his shoulder and a cowled figuar that leaned down over him holding him still. The translusent figure held up a finger to his lips as warning to stay silent.  Wash blinked rapidly in a shock at the new stranger and found himself looking only up at the sky.

This haze over his mind had him hallucinating. How long did this drug’s influence last?  Thinking back, the last drugged wine he had partaken was little more than half a day past. Merasha took most of a whole day to get Deryni abilities back in place. Shields would come first. Then the ability to sense the surroundings. Very last would be his Healer's Ability. Yet Healing was the one thing he needed most at the moment. In his pain, he was also experiencing a burning sensation.  He had to Heal that cut in his arm before he came down with a fever. But how? As yet he didn't even have his shields available to control. 

Wash dozed again, awakening this time to the lighting sky blurring out the stars overhead. Dawn was coming.  Again he felt warm hands encircling his left arm. He happened to open his eyes  to again see a profile of a man in a deep grey cowled robe leaning over him. There were no words spoken, but a sense of conversation filled him. You must Heal yourself. Above all other concerns. Heal yourself! spoke the eyes that twinkled like a pair of dawn stars. And again Washburn blinked, the figure was gone and the pair of dawn stars really did light the sky.

Heal? How was he supposed to do that?

With all the focus he could muster, he set himself down deep into trance. Did non-Deryni really have this kind of focus. Well, yes, the priests often meditated and used self-hypnosis, this was not unheard of.  Could he do that? Even without his power, could he convince his body to Heal more quickly just from the will of his mind.  Anything was better than the fever he knew was lingering inside the wound.

Self-hypnosis Healing...
((Washburn disadvantage roll, looking for some human  power-of-suggestion for self-Healing. Rolled = 6  Verification Number: 85kbpzbqnl))

Perhaps he was making it up, but the pain in his arm did subside back to a tolerable level. He once more looked over at his shoulder and the ghost of figure smiled down at him. The smile was one of reassurance; He was not alone in this. Not entirely alone. With some sense of relief Wash fell asleep again.
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by DerynifanK on Today at 12:25:18 pm »
Wow, Revanne, I didn't see that coming either though I did think Richard was  up to something when he hugged Dhugal like that, something he would not ordinarily  do. I hope he survived the attack. Amazing writing 
Memorials / Re: Farewell, Cyndr
« Last post by Laurna on Today at 11:25:16 am »
The love of a good Pup will be dearly missed. :'(  Sorry for your loss, Jerusha. Cyndr and Scortch will be curled up in the clouds enjoying the rays of sunlight poking through.
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by revanne on Today at 10:44:48 am »
Wow, revanne.  I didn't see that strategy coming.  Well done!

Nor did Dhugal😁

I have to confess I enjoyed writing it in such a suspenseful way.
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Ghosts of the Past
« Last post by Jerusha on Today at 10:42:08 am »
Darcy Cameron swished his razor in the bowl of water and then dried it on his towel.  Robert was rummaging through one of Iain’s chests, probably looking for additional clothing for Darcy.  According to Robert, he and his brother were very close to the same size.

The evening before had not been unpleasant.  Robert had unlocked Sir Iain’s apartment and handed Darcy the key.  While the squire had gone to arrange for water for a bath, Darcy had conducted a cursory exploration of the accommodation.  It was a single, large room, somewhat austerely furnished.  Darcy wondered how much time his brother spent here.  Across from the door was a single, shuttered window, which Darcy immediately opened to let in more light.  There was a curtained bed along the left wall.  A sturdy table and two chairs was positioned near the window to take advantage of the light; a rack of candles was ready to be used when the natural light faded.  A large, rectangular box was positioned along the back of the desk; an inkwell sat beside it and several quills.  Darcy wondered if his brother was naturally neat, or if he took care to leave nothing out to be seen.  Two large chests were positioned against the other wall on either side of the small hearth, their lids closed and secured with sturdy locks.  A tall wooden cupboard stood against the wall beside the door.  This had no lock and Darcy assumed it contained common items for everyday use.  A tub for bathing rested in the corner on the other side of the door.  There were no tapestries on the walls and no signs of any touches that might have been introduced by a woman.  Had Iain never married, or did his wife never come with him to Rhemuth?

The bath had been soothing, and Darcy emerged from the tub refreshed and very hungry.  Robert assured him there would still be food in the great hall and once dressed, Darcy followed the squire eagerly.  It was late, but during the long daylight hours of summer the evening meal was served later than in the winter months.  The high table was empty; Robert thought that the council meeting was either still in session, or the councillors were about implementing the king’s decisions.   They found spots at a table that had a nearly full platter.  At a signal from Robert, a jug of ale was brought and two tankards. 

As they ploughed their way through the food on the platter, Robert discreetly identified the various men around them.  The woman usually ate separately; Darcy thought wistfully of Aliset, but his attention was brought quickly back to the food.  When they had eaten their fill, three tarts remained on the platter.  They each grabbed one and then both hovered over the last one. 

“Help yourself, my Lord,” Robert said. 

Darcy grinned and drew his hand back.  “Nay, you’ve got more growing to do.”  Robert snatched up the tart before Darcy could change his mind.  Darcy chuckled and downed the last of his ale.

Upon return to Iain’s quarters, Darcy had turned down Robert’s offer of assistance in preparing for bed.  “I can manage to get my own boots off,” Darcy said.  “You have my word I won’t wear them in the bed.” Robert tried to hide a smile as he bowed and left, stating he would return in the morning.

The night had not been as kind.  Initially, Darcy slept well.  The bed was soft and comfortable; he could not remember sleeping in one so fine.  But sometime in the early morning hours, vivid dreams of roaring flames disturbed his sleep. Aliset was calling for him!  Aliset was trapped by the flames and was calling desperately for his help, and he could not reach her!  He was too far away in Meara and could not get there in time….

Darcy sat bolt upright, covered in sweat, gasping for breath.  Despite the warm night, he began to shiver.  His rational mind told him it was a dream brought on by the horror he had found in Desse and his guilt for not being in Rhemuth to protect Aliset.  He did feel the guilt; he could not deny it, even though he did not yet know if he could have prevented what had happened.  He needed to know so he could protect her now.  But what if the king commanded him to Meara?  Unable to return to sleep, he tossed restlessly until dawn.

Darcy’s thoughts were returned to the present by a knock on the door.  Robert stood, and at Darcy’s nod, opened the door to admit another royal squire.

“Lord Darcy,” the new squire said after bowing.  “His Majesty, King Kelson, requires your presence in his withdrawing room.”

“I’ll dress and come at once,” Darcy replied.  The squire left, and Darcy reached for his tunic.

“Not that one,” Robert said quickly.  He shook out the tunic he had removed from the chest and held it out to Darcy.  The material was dyed a light blue, and the silver sea eagle volant of Isles was embroidered in white thread across the front. A sea green shirt was draped over the squire’s arm.

“Isn’t that a bit much?”  Darcy asked, recognizing the two colours as part of Isle’s tartan.

“My Lord, you have been summoned before the king.  You must dress appropriately.”

Darcy did not have the time to argue.  He shrugged into shirt and tunic.  He was relieved to be able to buckle his own sword and its serviceable belt around his waist, giving Robert little chance to pull and tweak before he strode out the door.
Semi Free-Form Deryni Gaming / Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread
« Last post by Jerusha on Today at 10:33:53 am »
Wow, revanne.  I didn't see that strategy coming.  Well done!
Memorials / Re: Farewell, Cyndr
« Last post by DesertRose on Today at 10:12:48 am »
I'm sorry for your loss, and I hope Cyndr and Scorch have found a lovely sun-puddle in which to relax and reunite.
Memorials / Re: Farewell, Cyndr
« Last post by revanne on Today at 10:10:42 am »
So sorry. She chose her own way but no easier for you.
Memorials / Farewell, Cyndr
« Last post by Jerusha on Today at 10:08:38 am »
Cyndr, our 16 year old whippet, decided to make her own way across the Rainbow Bridge.  On Tuesday, she escaped from the house when no one was looking as someone came to pick up an old wall unit we had sold.  Although we were out looking every day, she was not found until yesterday evening.  She had passed, probably earlier that day.

In spite of all of her health issues, she lived a long and comfortable life.  She is napping now in eternal sunlight curled up next to Scorch.
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Re: Ghosts of the Past by Bynw
[Today at 08:10:18 pm]

Re: Ghosts of the Past by Laurna
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by DerynifanK
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Re: Farewell, Cyndr by Laurna
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by revanne
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Re: Ghosts of the Past by Jerusha
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Re: Out of Character (OOC) Thread by Jerusha
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Re: Farewell, Cyndr by DesertRose
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Re: Farewell, Cyndr by revanne
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Farewell, Cyndr by Jerusha
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