Difference between revisions of "Waiting Room"

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(Created page with "The sky is clear and the sun bright. Fittingly, the rays of light glitter off of golden and bright marble of The Sun's temple. Petitioners and clergy alike move about in the mid-day, or rest and/or repast on various benches. Perhaps conspicuous by contrast is one blot of gray seated at a bench outside a structure for healers and healing. With hood up and back slouched, Verna's robes billow in a way that makes her rather the formless gray blob or splotch. Slixvah has arr...")
 
 
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The sky is clear and the sun bright. Fittingly, the rays of light glitter off of golden and bright marble of The Sun's temple. Petitioners and clergy alike move about in the mid-day, or rest and/or repast on various benches. Perhaps conspicuous by contrast is one blot of gray seated at a bench outside a structure for healers and healing. With hood up and back slouched, Verna's robes billow in a way that makes her rather the formless gray blob or splotch.
 
The sky is clear and the sun bright. Fittingly, the rays of light glitter off of golden and bright marble of The Sun's temple. Petitioners and clergy alike move about in the mid-day, or rest and/or repast on various benches. Perhaps conspicuous by contrast is one blot of gray seated at a bench outside a structure for healers and healing. With hood up and back slouched, Verna's robes billow in a way that makes her rather the formless gray blob or splotch.
 
Slixvah has arrived.
 
   
 
Amid the various individuals, while the bolt of gray stands out, so too does Auranar in pink. She's finally found a pink coat to go with her pink dress, and the bright cheerful color marks her as she walks down the street clearly looking for something. Or in this instance - someone. Her dark eyes scan the crowd, and lighting upon the gray splotch, hurries toward it hopefully. "Verna!"
 
Amid the various individuals, while the bolt of gray stands out, so too does Auranar in pink. She's finally found a pink coat to go with her pink dress, and the bright cheerful color marks her as she walks down the street clearly looking for something. Or in this instance - someone. Her dark eyes scan the crowd, and lighting upon the gray splotch, hurries toward it hopefully. "Verna!"
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Auranar sits down on the bench and takes the hand offered to her, but it is bothersome the way that Verna will not look at her directly. It stirs worry in her. "I expected so. But what about you? Are you alright?"
 
Auranar sits down on the bench and takes the hand offered to her, but it is bothersome the way that Verna will not look at her directly. It stirs worry in her. "I expected so. But what about you? Are you alright?"
 
Slixvah has left.
 
   
 
Verna's hood finally lifts to Auranar. Enough that she can see the white of briefly flashed smile, along with discoloration on the cheeks that form it. "I am well enough. Wearied. A bit bruised. Not worth troubling the healers when I can tend myself." Not that she has done so yet during her time seated here. "What of you? Is all well?"
 
Verna's hood finally lifts to Auranar. Enough that she can see the white of briefly flashed smile, along with discoloration on the cheeks that form it. "I am well enough. Wearied. A bit bruised. Not worth troubling the healers when I can tend myself." Not that she has done so yet during her time seated here. "What of you? Is all well?"

Latest revision as of 02:33, 12 January 2023

The sky is clear and the sun bright. Fittingly, the rays of light glitter off of golden and bright marble of The Sun's temple. Petitioners and clergy alike move about in the mid-day, or rest and/or repast on various benches. Perhaps conspicuous by contrast is one blot of gray seated at a bench outside a structure for healers and healing. With hood up and back slouched, Verna's robes billow in a way that makes her rather the formless gray blob or splotch.

Amid the various individuals, while the bolt of gray stands out, so too does Auranar in pink. She's finally found a pink coat to go with her pink dress, and the bright cheerful color marks her as she walks down the street clearly looking for something. Or in this instance - someone. Her dark eyes scan the crowd, and lighting upon the gray splotch, hurries toward it hopefully. "Verna!"

She doesn't stop there, recognizing that the grayness is indeed her fiancee, she spills all the thoughts inside her head out in a rush. "How are you? Are you okay? What about Dolan? How did your mission go? Did... did anyone get hurt?"

One would think that Verna would notice the pink, at the least, and recognize the wearer very soon thereafter. She does not appear to until after her name is called, when her hood promptly pans and she appears as if she might rise... and then Auranar has already approached. Verna reaches out a hand to gesture to the bench in invitation, but it remains extended in offering afterwards.

"Please, join me, love." Her hood remains canted downwards, though dips additionally in a nod. "We retrieved Dolan and the totem taken from my care. All returned. My apologies that I did not return previously. Dolan remains in the care of the healers. He was ... treated as we would expect by his host."

Auranar sits down on the bench and takes the hand offered to her, but it is bothersome the way that Verna will not look at her directly. It stirs worry in her. "I expected so. But what about you? Are you alright?"

Verna's hood finally lifts to Auranar. Enough that she can see the white of briefly flashed smile, along with discoloration on the cheeks that form it. "I am well enough. Wearied. A bit bruised. Not worth troubling the healers when I can tend myself." Not that she has done so yet during her time seated here. "What of you? Is all well?"

The wild elf at Verna's side catches brief glimpse of the bruising on Verna's cheeks and immediately lifts her hands to shift the other woman's hood back. "What-" She shakes her head. "What happened? I-I could try healing you. Why haven't you healed yourself? Gods Verna look at your face!"

With the critical wounds healed, Verna's current injuries are entirely superficial. A great many bruises for the most part, the only visible at present being upon her face. The blackened eye and swollen cheek are the more conspicuous: superficial yet not aesthetically pleasing. Verna's look of weariness - or is that guilt?- does not improve matters.

"Apologies. I delayed on the chance that the healer might require additional aid. I may have inadvertently napped for a time after..." Now that is certainly guilt in her visage.

"Worry not," she adds to assure, "Silverguard Serene already mended the worst of it... " A pause before she offers a still-weary yet quite earnest smile. "I would hardly decline your tender care, dearest, if you were so inclined."

Auranar bites her lip and stares at Verna, carefully touching her face where there are not bruises. Questions flood her mind, more than she had before, but all that matters right now is Verna. "Healed most of it? And this is what's left over? How badly hurt _were_ you?" Her tone brooks no argument as she begins to focus on the warmth inside her body and working it toward her hands. Focus! The magic is less powerful than Verna's own but...

The wild elf focuses on the warmth transfering from herself to Verna. But nothing happens. The warmth builds in her hands, but refuses to enter her fiancee. "What? Why isn't it working?"

Verna leans into the touch, the small wince it provokes being from the movement, not Auranar. She closes her eyes at the contact, expected healing, or both. The blink that follows is from Auranar's comment, though settles. "All is well, Aura. You need not fret on my account. Perhaps you are merely agitated?"

She did not forget the question, and would not deny her a response. That does not make it pleasant. "I was not in a state to stand straight, much less examine myself. By Serene's intervention and The Mithril Lady's grace we were able to withdraw."

Hands fall away from Verna's face, and Auranar looks a little crushed. Here she was, unable to go with them when they went to rescue Dolan and now... Even her healing ability had failed her. "Perhaps.... it's hard to focus when you look like someone took offense to your face." She blinks away her own self-doubts and listens to Verna's tale. "Gods Verna. I can't lose you. Not again."

She picks up Verna's hand and squeezes it. "How could you possibly have ended up so badly wounded? Wasn't that paladin of Eluna there?"

Verna places her other hand atop Auranar's and smiles again, with some effort. "I am here. Perhaps, once this fades, I shall be permanently all the more appealing to you?" Humor isnt her forte', yet she makes an effort. She exhales a breath after. "You deserve a brief recounting of events in summary, at the least."

"Dolan was ill-treated as his prisoner. He was gravely wounded and bitten. Many times I had tried to scry upon him and either could not, or Kol was present. The moment Dolan was alone, Telamon took us there. We assessed him, Andelena unchained him, a totem was reclaime... and then Kol returned. All transpired nearly as quickly as I recount it."

"Kol came back? While you were all there?" Auranar looks horrified at the thought. "Poor Dolan. He must have been so afraid! But you got one of the totems back! That's what you went for, so that's something... How badly hurt was Dolan?" Even as she asks she takes in Verna's injuries and shakes her head, her stomach still shifting with worry for the other woman and the fact that her healing efforts had failed.

Verna frowns, her eyes shifting away from Auranar. "If he was, he was not the only one of us fearful." She nods. "Kol was most displeased, as you might expect. Telamon was able to bring all us there, but with Dolan, could not return all of us at once. I bid him to leave myself and Serene, that we would follow shortly." There is another pause before she regains Auranar's gaze. "In the end, yes, we were successful. Dolan should recover."

"He's the one that did this to you." Auranar motions to Verna's face. "How badly hurt were you really?"

Verna considers that question, attempting to revert her frown to something more encouraging. In the end, her lips are pursed, primarily in thought. "If not for the tending of Serene and Mithril Lady afer we arrived, she would needed carry me to the city. If not for Their intervention on my behalf before we left, it is likely that neither of us would have returned."

Auranar's dark eyes darken significantly and she gently leans against Verna's shoulder. "You need to heal yourself Verna. Since I can't do it. Do you want to go home? So you can do so in privacy?"

Verna is healthy enough to shift that arm about her, and with minimal wince. "You are right, love, as ever you are. I was concerned, and then distracted." She appears to consider dozing off to be under one of those categories. "I would not leave without word of Dolan's condition. At any rate, you are here, and you are more home to me than any place or object."

Her other hand reaches to the scales about her neck as she beseaches her matron. "Gray Harpist, aid your Mourner that now is not her appointed time for your judgment." She calls upon the divine, only adding after and more for mortal ears," ... as Auranar would not approve otherwise."

GAME: Verna casts Cure Moderate Wounds. Caster Level: 19 DC: 19

Auranar snorts lightly at the last bit, and is glad to see that Verna looks much improved after her prayer. "Much better." She waits patiently for Verna's hand to return to her own, and yet... she still looks deadly serious. "If you aren't in the hospital though... how much worse off is Dolan?"

Verna does look immensely improved, insofar that the contusions vanish and she breathes and easy sigh. Her hand promptly returns, though her comfortable expression dwindles to neutral at the question asked more than once. "Aura. Kol is known to enjoy pain. We arrived none too soon. I expect that Dolan experienced no small amount of this, yet he survived and is under fervent treatment. I would spare you the visceral details, if I might."

Auranar shakes her head. "I'm sorry. Yes. I mean... I don't mean to pry in that way but... It's my fault. If I hadn't said anything he'd be less hurt right now." She rubs her free hand over her skirts and doesn't look at Verna. "I knew it then and I know it now. Whatever happened to him after that first scry... it's because I spoke up."

Verna blinks at her self-recrimination; the surprise and subsequent concern are all the more visible without the bruising. "Dearest, this is all Kol's doing. You are not responsible for his evils." She eyes her more firmly. "What you can claim responsibility for is ensuring that we succeeded. All others, myself included, were prepared to go at once, with the abomination present. We were fortunate to fare so well as we did when we had time to free Dolan before Kol returned. If he was present and aware when we arrived..."

The wild elf nods. "You're right. If you all faired this poorly against him while he was surprised... How are you going to defeat him when he isn't? How are you going to defeat him at all?" Auranar sighs. "I know I should have more faith but... everything keeps seeming to go so wrong."

"It was never our intent to truly confront him, there," Verna reminds, "much less defeat him. That day shall come soon enough. I will see to it. I -must- see to it."

Her firmness softens, then, accompanied by a light squeeze of Auranar's side. "All balances upon the scales. Light and darkness. Life and death. Joy and sorrow. Perhaps the rise of frustrations is all necessary... to counter the joys we shall experience in celebration?"

Auranar looks up, offering a soft sigh and then a smile. "I suppose, given how lucky I am to have found you... that this is my comeuppance for the joy you've given me." She lets out a small laugh. "If I knew that I'd come so close to losing you so often I might enjoy your presence a little less." A snort.

Verna did not expect to have that turned around. Her cheeks quickly find themselves discolored anew, albeit for entirely different reasons. Then there is that laugh; small or not, it is contagious. "Ha." She holds Auranar all the more snugly: side; hand; all between.

"My enjoyment of your presence shall ever keep me here, with you. Whatever may come." No, Scales, please, this is not an open challenge.