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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 9, 2015 15:47:53 GMT -6
Richter sighed as the Rilcha child passed along his fate, even scowling a bit as Guinevere rubbed in the fact that he would be bedridden for the immediate time being. He knew a few days didn’t mean a few days. It meant at least a week, if not more. At a different time in his life the Ilian would have simply ignored the direction and left whenever he felt healthy, but after becoming as familiar with the healing rod and medic cot as he was now, Richter knew better than to ignore a doctor’s orders. They were, unfortunately, for his own good.
“A book is fine,” the commander replied, his voice sounding more than a bit defeated. “Just make sure it’s not Sacaen..." Actually, did Sacaens even write books? Richter reckoned not, considering how often they moved around. Books were probably considered dead weight. "...or about Sacaens. I don’t feel like reading about the plainsmen right now, and I don't need some gobbledy gooktalking about earth mothers and sky fathers or great spirits." Between Ariston and Hargus, he'd had about enough of this country for a lifetime. So Richter turned around and grabbed his pillow, propping it up against the thin, wooden headframe. Then he closed his eyes and leaned back in his bed, resting his head on the pillow. This was going to be a long week, wasn’t it?
“And you... Rilcha,” he said, not bothering to open his eyes or look at the assistant healer. “Get me something to eat, would you? I’m starving.”
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Jun 25, 2015 13:39:59 GMT -6
The ginger gave a little scratch to his head and peered behind him at Richter's request, not that there was anything peculiar it. He had tried [and failed] to mention prior that stew was likely ready, but his gaze quickly drifted over towards the room's female occupant. Rilcha wasn't quite sure whether he was to procure food for her as well, and, as it seemed to be the trend he certainly didn't want to ask either. Silently he stared between the two and turned tail, scurrying from the room to go get the meal.
It didn't take long for him to return either, no less than five minutes passing before his timid footsteps could be heard approaching and he appeared in the doorway. A tray lay over his forearms, fingers curled around the edge and his elbows locked against his chest. Two bowls filled with a hearty stew lay on it, thick chunks of beef and carrot peeking out through the surface of the rich broth. Next to it were a few fried dumplings, the surface golden with the cloth they were resting on stained with the residual oils. It certainly was more substantial than the usual meals given to patients, a noticeable lack of porridge and other bland foods fed to patients. However, Rilcha assumed that it would be just fine, Richter looked well besides for his wounds, and a filling meal wasn't the thing to bring on infection. Anything to lessen the chance that his head would be torn off in a fit of rage, not that it seemed he was a likely candidate for uncontrollable fits of rage. Yet, his mother always said that even the sweetest men were secretly violent. It was good to be careful.
Carefully he squatted down, shifting the weight of the tray to his knees so that he could shift it easily up onto a stool and drag it over to the bedside. "There's enough for ma'am" he glanced over his shoulder at her, a slight bob of his head in agreement with his own words.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jun 29, 2015 12:39:53 GMT -6
Guinevere bent down and picked up her discarded bag. Luckily for the Commander, she had a couple of books on her to help stave off boring times during her travels. She pushed aside a romance novel, figuring that chances are that wouldn't be his cup of tea. Instead, she pulled out a book that Rayl had insisted she take. It was about some of the most famous battles in the continent's history. She had read it and it was interesting, but it was definitely more of a Rayl and Richter type of book. She set the bag back down, and tossed the book over to Richter. "Try that one out. Rayl was always going on and on about it, so maybe it'll keep you busy for a while." She did feel bad for him, being laid up like this, but at the same time the look on his face almost brought a smile to hers.
She stepped carefully out of the way as Rilcha returned with a tray full of food. The boy had certainly done Richter proud with the amount of food he had brought. He had even offered Gwen some of the food, which she was grateful for. She wasn't going to ask for anything, but at the same time she had been growing hungry and it was rude to refuse food. She gave him a small bow. "Thank you, you're very kind." She let Richter have first pick of the food, since he was clearly starving, before reaching over and grabbing one of the dumpling.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jun 29, 2015 14:55:50 GMT -6
"This'll do," said Richter, catching the book in his good hand as Rilcha darted out of the tent. The commander took a good look at its front cover. The book was bound with brown leather that was embossed in gold along the spine. Although the manuscript had clearly seen better days, it was still in very good condition. The Ilian hummed quietly as he flipped the book over and viewed its back cover. Nope, nothing but a few minor scuffs. It was well taken care of. Rayl valued this book, it seemed, so he would have to make sure not to damage it, or worse, lose it.
Richter set the book down on his makeshift nightstand just a Rilcha re-entered the room with a tray of food: two bowls of stew and a spattering of golden fried dumplings. Interesting little treat there, the dumplings. Must be a Sacaen dish, not that the Ilian was in any way opposed to Sacaen food. Food was food, and stew was stew. "Thank you," Richter growled as he reached for a bowl, but upon grabbing the dish the Ilian realized he was going to be short a hand. It was hard to hold a spoon with a hand you couldn't even feel. He scowled, staring at the surface of the stew and swishing it about in his bowl. This one armed nonsense was going to take some getting used to. Too bad he had little choice in the matter. Richter raised the wooden lip of the bowl to his lips and took a big gulp. The thick brothy mix poured into his mouth, bringing chunks of carrot and meat along with it that the Ilian filtered out by pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. This caught the larger bits of food, which he began to chew, while letting everything else slide down his throat unimpeded.
It only took Richter a minute or two to finish his dinner, as drinking your stew out of the bowl rather than using a utensil to portion it spoonful by spoonful made the eating process go much quicker. The commander dropped the bowl back onto Rilcha's tray with a clatter, then grabbed a fried dumpling in a greedy fist and took a large bite out of it. Oil dribbled down his chin as the rich, savory goodness filled his mouth, and the dumpling disappeared in another two bites. Richter had known he was hungry, but he hadn't realized how hungry he was. Recovering from the battle had given him quite an appetite, it seemed.
"Go ahead have some," he said to Rilcha, who was standing awkwardly next to the bed. He gestured to one of the dumplings as Guinevere began removing her half of the meal from the tray. "I'm not just going to let you stand there and watch me eat."
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Rilcha Winters
Novice
"You can't beat the princess of beets. It's like beating a puppy, you just come away feeling awful."
Posts: 36
Profession: Richter's Fan Club President
Affiliation: FanClubAnon LLC
Affinity: Light
Profile: Rilcha
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Rilcha Winters on Jun 30, 2015 10:27:08 GMT -6
Rilcha stared at Richter as he ate curiously, with almost the same as one would watch an animal seated in a cage. The fact that he was lacking use of an arm should have been something that the temporary healer's assistant should have done more than taken note of. In fact, he realized now while the other slurped down the rich brew that it was more than likely his job to spoon feed the man. Richter though had not given him any dark looks, hardly even looked his way in the slightest once the food had entered his presence. The boy took that as a sign that he didn't seem to mind, he was more interested in the slovenly way the food was being eaten. There was a thought that he should wipe the oils off of the man's face, but the offer of food was a slight distraction with the case of his empty stomach. Well, any stomach that had been filed with porridge for the past few weeks would suddenly grow empty in the face of rich dumplings.
He reached out and took a dumpling into his fist gripping it tightly as he brought it up to his mouth and took a large bite in an attempt to imitate the way the man was eating. Unfortunately, he also attempted to imitate the size of his bites, the realization that he was going to have a hard time chewing prompting him to raise his hands up to cover his mouth. The boy crouched down and took a seat beside the bed, working over his blunder to quickly demolish the rest of the dumpling.
Now that he wasn't looking the beast in the eye anymore the explainable pressure that he had been feeling dropped rapidly, and he almost felt relaxed. With a little yawn he licked the oils off his fingers and leaned against the comfortably, resting for a moment. "Why're you hurt?" He asked, after a pause, realizing after a moment that his words could easily be misinterpreted and hurriedly correcting himself. "How'd you do it? D'you kill them?" Rilcha wasn't quite sure what sort of answers he was looking for, but he had been curious.
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Post by Guinevere von Altenburg on Jul 6, 2015 14:23:41 GMT -6
Gwen shook her head slightly, watching the other two took giant fights of their food. Sure, it allowed you to finish fast, especially if you were very hungry, but it didn't allow you to savor it. She took a small bite of the dumpling she held in her hand. It tasted very good, much better than the food she had taken with her on the road. A small amount of oil ran down her chin, which she was quick to wipe away with a handkerchief. No matter how far away from home she got, she never forgot the manners her parents had driven into her as a child. She decided to leave the rest of the food for Richter, as he seemed to have gain a great hunger in addition to his injuries.
She looked towards Rilcha as he asked Richter how he had been injured. While she already knew that he had been involved in the siege that had taken place here, she didn't know much about what had actually happened here. The priest Remus had given her a quick overview, but it would be interesting to hear it from Richter's mouth. She wasn't sure how much he would tell, as in the past he had proven to sometimes be a man of few words. Plus, the events were still fairly fresh, so she didn't know how much he would want to dive into them. In the meanwhile, Guinevere sat in silence, working her way slowly through her dumpling.
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Post by Richter Abend on Jul 13, 2015 19:42:41 GMT -6
“I took on a demon,” muttered Richter in between mouthfuls. After Rilcha had taken the food the offered to him, Richter cleaned off the rest of the tray, scooping up the food in a greedy hand, and shoveled it into his mouth. He didn’t say another word as he finished eating, but after the last bit of food slid down his throat the commander let out a satisfied sigh. He took a deep breath then turned his attention fully to the boy. Had he not been paying attention to the battle that had just occured at all?
“I took on a demon and won, but apparently it might have cost me my arm,” the Ilian continued. His feeling on the matter was inscrutable from the look on his face and his tone of voice, but one could imagine he wasn’t exactly happy about joining the crippled. Internally he still denied that was the case. He'd been awake less than a half an hour, so there was no reason that the fact that he couldn't feel or move his left arm couldn't just a part of the healing process. Healers had healed worse wounds than what he'd sustained, right? He could only hope. Black magic was a nasty thing, but Richter did not welcome a life with the use of one less arm.
The Ilian turned to Guinevere, his gaze hollow and cold. He hated being bed-ridden enough as it was, and this new development was doing little to help his mood.
"So how's the food?" the he asked, clearly trying to change the subject.
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