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Post by Charith on Aug 27, 2004 11:07:36 GMT -5
Harold? He's nice.
She smiles and steps out of the door.
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Aug 27, 2004 11:15:59 GMT -5
And a good friend.
*he closes the door behind him and walks with Charith towards the City-centre.*
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Post by Charith on Aug 30, 2004 6:10:52 GMT -5
She comes here the very next morning at five AM, and stays the entire day till shooed off by someone noticing how pale and tired she looks. But she keeps coming back every day, staying late, and works very very hard. She does drop something every now and then, trips, bangs her head, breaks a plate or two, but when things get too much, she can now calm herself, and she works pretty efficiently, all in all. Unless asked to sew or cook, because- uhm- well, just don't ask her to, okay...
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Aug 30, 2004 9:14:51 GMT -5
*the novices don't ask Charith to cook or sew , but they appreciate her help, not fussing over a broken plate or two. They're too busy themselves too.*
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Post by Kaitan on Sept 2, 2004 18:10:19 GMT -5
Kaitan walks up to the entrance to the new outpost of All Souls. He hesitates at the entrance before deciding that it is a public place, and therefore open to him.
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Sept 2, 2004 18:18:39 GMT -5
*it's pretty busy inside. The initial bull-rush of the first few days has died off, once people realised that the church wasn't going to up and vanish overnight, but the novices on duty are still kept mighty busy nonetheless. People living in the Slums aren't the healthiest around, and they take all the help they can get. To the right there's a line of people waiting for food, while to the left there's novices busy healing, mending broken bones etc, either with splints and bandages or with magic. Unless Kaitan approaches one of the novices for help, they'll not pay much attention to him apart from a polite if hasty nod.*
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Post by Kaitan on Sept 2, 2004 18:21:32 GMT -5
Kaitan wanders through the crowd, looking for someone who appears to hold some authority over the other clerics.
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Sept 2, 2004 18:32:57 GMT -5
*to the side there's a brown-haired Elf, with a grave face and black eyes. He's about 5'4, dressed in robes with Nan Elmoth-markings, and a symbol of Corellon. He works as hard as the rest, but a careful observer'd notice that he gets treated with a bit more respect than the rest, and seems to hold some influence over them. He looks up as Kaitan approaches.*
Mae govannen. How can we help you?
*he seems to have a calm authority over him.*
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Post by Kaitan on Sept 2, 2004 18:51:13 GMT -5
Kaitan bows to the man, careful to keep his face hidden.
"I'd like to offer my services."
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Sept 2, 2004 18:54:18 GMT -5
Thank you sir. Anything in particular, things you're not good at? My name is Haglath Lhadbelin, much appreciated.
*he makes a small bow to Kaitan.*
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Post by Kaitan on Sept 2, 2004 19:00:35 GMT -5
"I am Kaitan.
I'm not good at... comforting, and I can't see. I can heal, though."
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Sept 2, 2004 19:19:48 GMT -5
*Haglath nods.*
Thank you, sir. We can always use another healer. Even if they can't see.
*he gets up, the patient he was helping having recovered enough to be able to walk off to the soup-and-bread-line.*
You can sit here.
*When Kaitan does, Haglath moves away to give him space, and sits down to continue helping. Most of the people who come in don't need comforting, they just want help, or food, or both. The more distressed are quickly caught as they come in, and sometimes taken to an office for more private discussion.*
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Sept 4, 2004 14:40:09 GMT -5
*warned beforehand about the place, the clerics bearing wood enter the church through a little-known backdoor, leaving their cargo in the storageroom before leaving again.*
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Post by Charith on Sept 6, 2004 9:59:33 GMT -5
She sinks down in a corner after yet another day of hard work. There is browned blood on her clothes- not her own- along with smears of tar and dirt and smelly spots where someone threw up over her an hour or two ago. She cleaned it best as she could but there was no time to change. She doesn't have any other clothes, anyway. Her hair sticks to her sweaty forehead, her hands are dirty and there are spinters of wood in them, but she is too tired to dig them out. Her skirt is a bit torn and her boots and cloak are missing. The boots she gave away as a gift to some poor sod, the cloak she put somewhere around here- and it vanished. Someone must have taken it, whether someone of the poor stole it or whether the clerics used it for something, she neither knows nor cares. She is sore all over, there is not a muscle in her body that does not ache. She closes her eyes and sighs. One of the novices ordered her to sit down or she wouldn't have done it even now.
A phrase, any phrase...
She calms herself down to take her mind off the weariness and the things she's seen here. She never knew there was so much misery in the world. She groans softly as she feels both of her bare feet are sleeping. What with all this, she hasn't had a moment all day- any day she's been here- to even consider being shy. No time, no use for it. She isn't even thinking of it now. She's just tired, and leans her head against the wall, eyes closed but too tired and sore to fall asleep.
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Post by Julia of Hillsdown on Sept 6, 2004 10:09:02 GMT -5
*Swinstone entered the church along with the other clerics who've come to change shifts and give the ones working here time to get themselves together at the main Church.
He's busy cleaning the floor as he comes upon Charith lying in the corner.*
Miss, are you alright? Miss?
*he leans forward, checking up on the seemingly zoned-out lady, and recognises Charith.*
Charith? Are you alright?
*Swinstone reaches out a hand and touches her face, sweeping some of the hair away, in the meantime checking her condition.*
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