Fantasy Cold Nights (Exalted 2.5e) - Astrid Mustonen

[Teal]

Diamond Hearth (Haslanti League) - 23rd Day of Resplendent Fire
Soaring thousands of feet in the air, walls of shear ice enclosed the patch of green that was the City State of Diamond Hearth. Meltwater flowed constantly down the glacier’s sides, spilling into in a network of frigid and slow moving streams that criss-crossed the low-laying areas of the valley – before meeting in a single still lake on the valley’s south edge. Reindeer and elk roamed free, sampling the thick clover-like shrubs that covered the valley floor in an approximation of grass.

Boom.

The idealistic picture of valley-life was marred by the regular – if infrequent – explosions emanating from the walls of the city-state. Miners – mostly slaves – toiled in the caves and tunnels that pocked the valley walls, searching for diamonds and other minerals – from the exotic to the mundane. Rarely, a much longer series of crashes – the sounds of a cave-in – rang through the camp, spelling a horrible end to the lives of some unfortunates, more often than not. It was rare for the valley-folk to even pause to note such things, though.

Clusters of dwellings – a chaotic array of hide, salvaged wood and the odd stone building – were scattered about the mid-levels of the valley. Free-born Hearthings made their dwellings here – close enough to the streams and rivers for water, far enough to escape whatever seasonal flooding the Hearth experienced, and capable of moving when necessary – as it often was.

Walled compounds crested the hilltops – each centered on a stately manor-house, most set a considerable distance from the shanties below. Around these sprawled a menagerie of smaller dwellings – most of stone and surrounded by more modest fortifications. The wealthy, their favored servants and their slaves dwelt in these fortresses – the largest of which was near a town in its own right. Armed men patrolled these areas regularly – the hired guards of the rich.

It was the final days of Resplendent Fire – the warmest time of the year. While the air always carried hints of both chill and dampness, the sun was hot enough to make water-levels recede - taking the swarms of spring biting insets with them. While the nights remained quite cold, during daylight hours shorts were commonplace.

 

[Maxiom]

Diamond Hearth was hell for many – a contender for the worst place in Creation some would argue, and Astrid was there by choice. Those who didn’t know her better would say she was drawn to death and suffering.


“Oh good gods!”


Those who did know her better would be inclined to agree.


“Erik, hold the man down,” Astrid told her assistant – a scrawny boy, around the age of 14. He responded dutifully, doing his best to restrain the much larger slave – a tall but skinny man with a head of tangled green knots that hung around his tan face like vines. He stuck out vividly when put next to the two Northerners – Astrid being pallid with dark, stringy hair tied back and the boy having brown hair cut short.


Unfortunately, Erik could do little to subdue the miner, who was trashing and squirming and muttering curses in a language none of them could comprehend. “Hilda,” Astrid turned her attention to a tall, broad shouldered woman who was standing at a distance from the scene, “help him, please.” Her tone was kept cool – a semblance of calm was needed in such a scenario. Hilda gave a look of disgust, her eyes narrowing in on the miner’s exposed leg that was soaked with blood.


“Just do it,” she said, her tone sharper. Hilda kept her sour look, but conceded, helping the young boy hold the man down.


“I don’t know if you understand me,” Astrid began to speak to the injured miner, “but I’m here to help you.” Her voice was deeper than he thought it’d be. She was short and skinny – as though she was ill with some affliction. She bent down next to him, and produced a white strip of cloth from her bag, which she promptly soaked with water from a jug brought to her by one of the slaves.


She proceeded to scrub away at the wound, clearing away the pilings of dirt and blood around his leg. Invisible to the naked eye, Astrid's essence wove throughout the wound, helping to slash away at the death and decay that threatened the miner. The sleeves of her grey smock were quickly becoming red, but she didn’t seem to care. She wondered how much was left in him – a grisly trail of red stained the mouth of the cavern behind her.


The miner looked her in the eyes, and then moved his attention down to her red sleeves. “I… I be okay?” He asked in broken skytongue. His face was pale at the sight of his bleeding.


She put a hand to his face, forcing him to make eye contact again. “I promise you you’ll be fine,” she told him, her voice a monotone. She hoped she wasn’t lying.

 

[Teal]

The wound was bad - that much was obvious immediately. He must have been close to the mine's entrance when this happened, otherwise the slave would have bled out already. As it was, the blood was still flowing from the wound before Astrid's eyes. It had to be staunched, or the man would die - he was already passing out. Cleaning - and even a proper appraisal of the injury - would have to wait.


Invisible to all in the room, pale white radiance began to shine out from Astrid's fingers - leaking into the sterilized rag she pressed hard against the man's leg. Blood quickly turned the white cloth red, as the warm liquid spilled over her hand and soaked her cuffs. Hilda held the miner firmly - Erik offering only token support - though the man was too far gone to struggle now.


Soon, the flow stopped. The slave's chest still rose and fell shallowly and, while his skin held a deathly pallor, he was certainly still alive. She'd saved him.


((Astrid: 16/18m. 8m committed.))

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid sighed as the bleeding was finally stemmed. She gave a nod towards Hilda, letting her step away from the scene. "Thank you for your help."


'Now, time for a diagnosis,' Astrid took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and released the essence that held back her full vision. When she opened them, her once brown eyes had taken on a grey tint, and she squinted as though too much light had entered them.


The ephemeral nature of things was obvious to her now - it wasn't a pleasant feeling. She could see death, and by extension life. There was little life left in the man - his leg in particular seemed disturbingly still to her. Saving it would be an immense challenge, even for a doctor with magic on their side.


'The wound won't close up anytime soon,' she noted solemnly. His leg wouldn't start working, and to leave the wound in its current state would provoke my bleeding later. She could cut the limb down - make it more manageable... but then he wouldn't be able to work. And if he couldn't work, he'd be sent to even worse masters. Images of the Winter Folk danced through her head - nightmares from faerie-tales heard long ago, tales known to all northerners from Whitewall to the plains of the Icewalkers. Cutting down the leg would sentence him to something worse than death.


She got up, and moved to grab him by the shoulders. "Eric, grab his legs," she ordered. The boy listened, and helped her to heave the man up. She'd have to take him to the surgery table no matter what, but a temptation ran through her head. She could try to save him entirely, but it'd take heavy time and resources - time she could spend on more viable patients. The third option is what tempted her - a thought possibly emboldened by the visages of death in her eyes: put the man out of his suffering. She was certain she was skilled enough to make it look natural.


As they approached her workshop, she knew she had to make a decision fast. She offered a prayer to Carrion Crow - god of fatal misfortune - for a sign of some kind, hoping to maybe have the onus of mistake removed from her shoulders as she weighed her decisions.

 

[Teal]

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hilda released the unconscious man and stepped away. The blond woman - clad in her customary buff-jacket, with a traditional Haslanti broadsword slung over her shoulder - made a valiant effort not to roll her eyes as Astrid and her equally skinny - though far more alive - young boy assist struggled to carry the injured man from the sick-tent at the edge of the mine to her own - more centralized - workshop.


"...you know," Hilda stated, falling into step beside Astrid, "you could just get some of the slaves to move him."


He was rather heavy. ...and without a stretcher of some kind to keep his leg from moving, the wound might well open up again. Erik could certainly fetch one, if she wanted.


Then again, his bleeding out on the trip back might be a blessing in disguise.


((Astrid: 18/21m; 5m committed.)

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid let out a frustrated sigh at Hilda's suggestion. She was right, it'd be much easier, but something about ordering the slaves around rubbed Astrid the wrong way. She was an employee of the mine-owner, but she didn't really like feeling as though she was an extension of him - part of the problem so to speak. It would be unprofessional to let such distastes get int the way of her job though.


"She's right," she motioned to Erik to lay the man back down. "Erik, go get someone strong looking to help haul him out. They'll appreciate the sun, I imagine." Eric nodded and went off to the mine to find another slave to help out.


Unprofessional. The word went through her mind. She was supposed to be a supervisor of sorts to the slave-doctors of the mines - it'd be in bad form to break her oath, even if no one but her and perhaps Erik knew. 'They're supposed to think me capable after all.'


--


Erik found a slave in the mine who was willing to help them move the man, bringing him to the workshop. Erik laid a thin sheet over the operating bed, and the slave and Astrid put the injured worker atop it. Astrid then set about the task of making sure the wound hadn't reopened and that he had water. It'd be a while before she could operate, but she wanted him here so that she had the tools on hand to keep him in stable condition.


'I don't know this man - maybe he's useful in some other way and can earn his keep.' She was lying to herself, but it was something that she had to do given the circumstance. It was best to not dwell on such things in the Hearth. There was rarely a dull moment - if she spent too much time deliberating on the fate of one person, then she might lose time assisting someone across the camp.


He was breathing shallowly. He hadn't spoken since the last stemmed the bleeding, but that might've just been because of the pain. She decided to see if he was awake.


"If you're capable of speaking," she said to the man, "do you think you can explain what happened? It may be useful to make the mines... safer." It was a bit of an absurd notion - that a place like those caverns could ever be safe, but she wanted to know regardless.

 

[Teal]

The slave's chest continued to rise and fall evenly. His wound hadn't reopened on the way over, fortunately. Unfortunately, he'd probably be out for most of the day as his body healed. Still, if she wanted to awaken him, she probably could - she'd merely have to be a little rougher.


Hilda took her customary place on a chair at the edge of the small workshop - placed so anyone who opened the door would have difficulty noticing her. The woman, quietly, unshealthed her sword and began to clean it. The big man who Astrid had conscripted - a more experienced mine worker - sat on the other side of he door from her, watching Astrid with dull curiousity. Occassionally, Hilda would shoot him a suspicious look.


Meanwhile, Erik was moving around in the workshop, gathering supplies for Astrid to clean and bandage the wound.

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid accepted the slave's silence. It'd be... rude to disturb his moment's reprieve. The worst had yet to come for him. She ran estimates in her mind ; to try and really treat the wound in a meaningful way - with recovery - would take at least a month assuming everything worked out.


The other option could be more immediate - but a lot more final too. Astrid slowly walked to the far end of the workshop, moving past Erik who was preparing supplies for bandaging. "We may need more than that," she said as she pulled out several small, fine blades from the top-most drawer. "The wound is... very deep. If left, the pain won't leave. The most reliable solution is for it to go... but before we take such action I think I can at least try to save it."


She produced a set of long, threatening needles and some spools of thread, gently placing them on the table and bent down, pulling a few leather straps from a lower drawer. "This... will be ugly," she stated plainly to the helpful miner as she rose to her feet. "I doubt you're squeamish, but I won't make you stay. I would very much appreciate your assistance though, an extra hand would be convenient should he awaken."

 

[Teal]

"We may need more than that," Astrid said, as she passed Erik. The boy stiffened, rounding on his Master and watching her with an anxious look. He breathed a relieved sigh when she extracted a set of scalpulas, before hastening to collect more supplies, as the doctor elaborated.


"This..." Astrid began to secure the unnamed green-haired man to the operating table, "...will be ugly." She explained, speaking to the miner, obviously. "I doubt you're squeamish, but I won't make you stay. I would very much appreciate your assistance though, an extra hand would be convenient should he awaken."


The older man - a brown haired man who wore nothing more than a pair of ragged shorts - nodded, slowly coming to his feet. Hilda's grip on her sword tightened and her eyes tracked him, as he approached the table. "You..." The slave began, voice rough from disuse, in accented skytongue, "...can save his leg?"


He looked hopeful.

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid's face fell from its neutral position to a frown. "Its... possible, but the time it'd take would be great. If everything works, he'll still need a month to recover. I don't know if the forces above me would take kindly to that, but this is what he hired me for." She assumed the man knew the owner of the mine very well by this stage, judging by his experience with the language.


"I don't know what the boss will do with him, even if I succeed," she conceded. "If he's in a good mood, the man might have at-least have a few weeks of rest, maybe some light labor."


"It's ugly business, I'm not proud of it," she said. "If you stay to help though, you'll have my gratitude, regardless of my success." It would take a lot of essence, but this was the reason she had magic to begin with. If she didn't use her charms, there'd be little point in having them. "All I ask of you is to wash down." Surely Hilda would allow for the man's presence if it meant she didn't have to hold down the soon-to-be amputee.

 

[Teal]

"All I ask of you is to wash down." The miner took a moment to process the statement, before flushing with embarassment. He did smell pretty bad. All the slaves did, especially after coming out of the mine. He hastily nodded and looked about for something to use. Erik, arms full of supplies, appeared beside him and deposited the bandages and disinfectent - a jar of green liquid, made by Astrid herself - at the beside, before grasping him arm and leading him toward the window. They had jars of water and a basin warming there for this purpose.


"Thank you, Erik," Astrid said as she turned her attention to patient. She took a look at the injury - a deep puncture wound left on the upper thigh, perhaps by a pickaxe. It wouldn't be enough to just scrub or soak away at. Taking one of the small scalpels she had from her drawer, she made a few small incisions into the man's skin, making the depth of the wound more open to see.


"Better safe then sorry," she decided to herself as she opened the lid of the jar. Slowly, she poured the green liquid onto his leg and into the tear in his skin - hands glowing with invisible white radiance. Before her grey-tinted eyes, the infection in the wound receded. She took a strip of white cloth and began to clean away at his leg while the other miner went about cleaning off himself.


"Well, if we're all ready, then I think we can begin," Astrid announced, as her assistants approached. She gathered her tools, needles and threads and blades around a small table to the right of the operating bed, before offering a quick prayer to the Haslanti gods of healing and good fortune. "Erik, you just do as I tell you." She turned to the miner, "You be ready to help as well - especially if he awakens."


With that, she strung her needle with black thread, and bent down. The first prick drew a bit of blood - and made the slave stir, though failed to awaken him. White radiance shimmered over her fingers and tools as she set about stitching the wound closed - a simple operation in appearance, since the real work was invinsible. With each movement, Astrid drove waves of pale energy deeper into the - thankfully unconscious - man's thigh, suffusing it with the power it would need to draw together and heal completely.


The whole operation took less than fifteen minutes - but when she finished, she felt sweat on her brow. All that was left was a last, light, dose of the disinfectant - with another spike of her ghostly essence - and she was done. The miner remained sleeping soundly.


((Astrid: 5/21m. 5m commited, 10m ambient. 5/6 Will.))

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid let out a heavy breath as she finished the surgery. She was about to whipe off her forehead off but remembered the blood on her sleeves. 'It can wait I guess.'


She gave Erik and the older slave a weak smile. "I think we did it," she said. "He just needs to rest, er, a lot." She untied the bloodied apron from around her waist, and rolled her sleeves back as she searched for a cloth to clear the sweat from her forehead. "Try to, uh, ask the other miners to not do whatever he did if they can."


'That was a lot of essence,' she noted. Her breathing was heavy; the surgery took a lot out of her. The death essence had to be all over. "I think it'd be good for him to have somewhere else to rest," she said. "We'll move him in a bit. Somewhere... calm. This room is too cramped. He needs fresh air without the noise of the mine."


She walked back over to the older miner. "You both did very well," she said to him and Erik. "I appreciate you staying. If you ever need anything, feel free to ask; you can call me Astrid. What's your name?" She asked him, extending a hand outwards.

 

[Teal]

The older man inclined his head to Astrid, but still hesitated a moment before answering, "Overseer usually calls me Brown, ma'am." Astrid knew the different Overseers had different systems for slaves - numbers and hair colours were common. Formally, the Guild used an alpha-numeric code and assigned some sort of descriptive name to the individual slaves - Green Sword or Strong Hands, for instance - on top of that. They would be punished for giving any name that wasn't Guild or employer-sanctioned.


"And, uh, w-we know you're our friend." Brown added, stuttering slightly. He seemed embarrassed.


Erik, meanwhile, was unstrapping the green-haired slave and collecting the stretcher they'd used to bring him. He'd have to be moved to the infirmary.

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid frowned a bit, but only for a moment. She wouldn't begrudge the man for not giving his real name. "Well, Brown, the infirmary is a short walk away, so you can give me a hand with the stretcher and we'll move the man to a bed." She motioned for him to follow her over, and signaled for Hilda to accompany her too.


"I'll make sure your Overseer knows you were giving me a hand," she told Brown as they hauled the man out of the workshop. She was starting to get worried about that building... all that deathly essence being released couldn't be good for it. She'd have to 'clear the cobwebs' soon. It'd be in bad form to treat the injured and infirm inside a shadowland after all.


They eventually reached the infirmary, and deposited the injured slave upon a cot. "He'll be laying there a while," she noted. "I don't envy him - he's not going to be feeling good when he wakes up." The overseers and the owner wouldn't be very happy to hear about one of their slaves being out of commission for so long. Astrid realized she would have to be the bearer of bad news sooner or later. "Erik, keep an eye on the man for a bit. Make sure he's all right. In an about an hour or so wake him up to explain things and make sure he gets something to drink. I'll try to check up on him personally if I can."


With that, Astrid exited the infirmary to do her rounds. The mines were a dangerous place - accident and injury were a constant worry. She'd make sure the other 'doctors' were doing alright, and attend to any other serious matters as she did with the green-haired man.

 

[Teal]

Pushing past the wool curtain that served as the infirmary's door, Astrid stepped out into the mid-morning sun, followed by Brown. Hilda had exited a few moments before – as was typical for her – and now stood waiting for her charge. When she saw Brown appear behind her charge, her gaze narrowed and the grip on her sword – casual until then – became tighter for a moment.


Astrid took the lead as the three began the somewhat long trip to the Ulfrson family mine-shafts - through the outer compound of the estate, where the infirmary and Astrid's workshop were located, then down a well-trod dirt path to the nearest edge of the valley. There was little traffic in this part of the valley, other than slaves and guards – so the trip was uneventful.


As they arrived at the closest still-active shaft, they were greeted to the sight of an old, slightly pudgy, fellow wrapped in a black cloak exiting it. In his hand was a moderately size, triangular, cloth bundle. Behind him followed a pair of guards, one older than Hilda, the other younger, but both garbed in buff-jackets, fair skinned, and pale haired. When the old fellow noticed them, he raised a hand in a small wave of acknowledgment.


While Brown continued down the dirt-path toward the mines, Hilda and Astrid moved off to the sick-tent that sat nearby. They’d confer with the slave-doctors therein, as was their custom, to get an update on the situation inside.


If Astrid seemed to speed up at the sight of the old fellow, why, that was mere coincidence.


* * *


Diamond Hearth - Several Months Ago (3rd Day of Resplendent Earth)


As the sun shone bright in the east, Astrid found herself standing before a set of delicate metal gates. Their tarnished bars reflected the morning light, rising more than twice Astrid's height and topped with menacing looking sharpened spikes. Black stone walls extended out from either side - solid looking from a distance, yet this close, she saw the cracks that riddled them. Past the gate, she could see a plank-bridge of black wood connecting the valley's edge to a cave in the wall. Weak white light shone from the cave’s floors within - provided by pale crystals, set into its floor at wide intervals.


Before her were a pair of men – both older than her and her bodyguard, pale haired, clad in thick buff jackets, baring broadswords across their backs, but certainly not related. They were looking at her, as if expecting her to speak.


Astrid stepped forward in front of Hilda, clad in a thick beige tunic and a lengthy grey skirt. She addressed the man to the left, seemingly at random. "Hello sir, I'm here to speak with Jahlr," she stated plainly, before glancing briefly at the other man for a moment. Then, she returned her gaze to the first guard. "I'm the mine's new doctor - Astrid. I believe your boss has reason to expect my presence."


The men exchanged glances, before returning their attention to her. "We know who you are, lass." One of them said, "But the Mage hasn't said anything about expecting you."


The other guard shrugged, before adding, "He might be asleep still."


"He was probably hoping I would skip out on having a chat with him, yes," she said. "We all have to wake up sooner or later though, so I'm not afraid of stirring him now. It pays to be a morning person in a place like this anyways."


Once again, the guards exchanged glances and, once again, one of them shrugged - before moving to push the gate open. "Alright, lass." One said, gesturing for her to go through, "But if you get eaten by something, that's on your head."


"Thank you," she replied, as she moved past the guards and through the gate. Walking across the bridge, she wondered to herself how someone like a mage could live in a cave, but shook the thought - she wasn't here to question him about his living arrangements.


As she entered the mouth of the abandoned mine, she called out, "Jahlr! Its Astrid, I have questions for you. If you're asleep, wake up."


Her voice echoed down the mineshaft for a long moment, before one of the guards came up behind her. "The...Mage lives in some rooms further in." He explained, gesturing down the shadowy hallway. "There's a door at the end." Another pause. "Just follow me."


Astrid frowned; how was she supposed to know where the troll dwelled? She nodded though. "Thank you, I appreciate it."


The guard shrugged again. "Can't promise he'll see you, but its nothing, lass." With that, he lead them down the hallway - a moderately long trip, through a less-than-straight and surprisingly cold corridor. Eventually however, they arrived at a black-wood door, embellished with gold carvings of the clover-like shrubs that grew throughout the Hearth.


It was here the guard knocked.


Astrid heard shuffling, before the door opened a crack. "Yes?" A man's voice asked.


"Astrid the doctor says she wants to see you, sir." The guard replied.


"Oh?" The door swung open on silent hinges, revealing a pale, slightly pudgy and black-garbed old man. His grey eyes flickered from face-to-face, before settling on Astrid. With a nod, he gestured for her to enter, "Well, come in out of the cold."


"I'll be curt, don't worry," she said as she stepped in – and passed through what felt like a veil of moist heat. It felt unsettlingly like someone’s hot breath on her skin. Hilda followed after her – and let out a strangled sound when she felt the strange enchantment. The guard outside did follow, muttering something sheepish about being “On duty.” Before leaving them.


The new chamber was round, with several branching tunnels leading off from it. A tall dark-haired and jet-skinned woman stood in the room’s center, before a small table and chairs of black wood, which had a pair of steaming bowls atop it. She waved to them - a warm smile appearing on her elfin features.


Jahrl directed them to the table, as he shut the door behind them. Hilda made no move for it, though Astrid stood ahead without hesitation. The old mage followed after her. "We were just having breakfast," he explained, "I'm afraid we weren't expecting guests, so we can't offer you any - but please, take a seat."


The dark-skinned woman took that as her cue to collect the bowls, and move them to one of the smaller tables dotting the room’s perimeter.


"Thankfully, I'm not here to eat," Astrid said, as she took a seat. She eyed the strange woman, but thought better than to stare. Mages often surrounded themselves with such beings. "Rather, I would like a bit of an explanation. You see, I've been examining the tools and furnishings I've been equipped with, and they seem to follow a... theme."


"Oh?" Jahrl replied, sounding curious.


She paused for a moment, and leveled eye contact with the mage before continuing, "There may be a note of hypocrisy, considering my clothes, but the white threads, the pale wood, all feel rather deliberately placed. I feel you know what I'm getting at, and I don't appreciate it."


"I'm not sure I do, Astrid." The mage glanced toward the dark-skinned woman, as she approached once more, before taking a seat beside the older man. She smiled sweetly at Astrid, idly moving a hand to the mage's shoulder, but said nothing. This close, Astrid could see that the irises of her eyes were white, while the whites that surrounded them were blacker than her skin.


"Ah," Jahrl added after a moment, "I suppose I ought to introduce you -"


"- I don't wish to be rude, but the introduction can be saved." Astrid cut in. "Jahrl, if you would like me to make a haunted house for you, please as me directly next time so I can politely decline. I don't like being used." Her tone was dry.


"I hardly see what you're so upset about." The old man sighed, shaking his head "The way you leak essence, that workshop would be a demense before the year's out, no matter what I do." His eyes fell to the black wooded table, and he began to stroke its surface fondly. "Besides, they're quite useful." He raised his gaze to Astrid. "Is having one really so objectionable?"


"I've seen enough spectres to recognize a shady figure," she responded. "Forgive me for not trusting your intent when you aren't willing to make it clear. If it's going to happen naturally, then let it, but don't try to speed it up without my knowledge."


She got up from her chair. "That's all I came her to say - hopefully this is just a misstep and we'll work together just fine from here on out."


The mage smiled up at her. "Yes, let's hope for just that."


* * *


Diamond Hearth – Present Day


A young pale haired woman lay on the faded hide of Astrid’s operating table. She was shirtless - her stomach distended and swollen large with child. Astrid herself knelt over her, a hollow tube of bleached bone connecting her ear to the woman’s stomach – and the steady sound of the baby’s heartbeat within it.


Across the swept dirt floor, Erik sat at a table topped in white ceramic-tile, slowly grinding a handful of Hearth’s shrub-like clover into a paste. His shoulders were unusually set and his posture unusually rigid – but then, there was a nearly naked woman behind him.


Outside, the mid-afternoon sun moved slowly westward, as Hilda swung her greatsword in great arcs and through herself into diving rolls – her practice kata. Sometimes, the woman’s kiai would pierce the rough stone walls of Astrid’s workshop.


Green Arm’s unfortunate accident with his pickaxe aside, the day had been quite normal.

 

[Maxiom]

*badump* *badump* *badump*


The sound of a heartbeat played rhythmically against Astrid's ears. She lowered the tube and moved her head away. She spoke as she lifted herself to her feet. "Well, Freyda, everything seems -"


"KYAAA!" she was cut off by a shout from Hilda outside.


"The baby's fine," she said, cutting herself short to not be interrupted again. "A heartbeat only says so much though. How have you been doing? Any irregularities? It'd also be good to know what you've been eating."


She moved over to the small tray next to the operating table where a small piece of parchment laid, so she could take note. She was hoping Freyda would be brief - Astrid was loathe to admit it, seeing as how she was a doctor, but treating a pregnant woman was something that made her nervous. Surgery and sickness didn't bother her for the most part - she felt confident in her ability to treat them, but dealing with babies made her uncomfortable. If that wasn't enough, Freyda was her boss's daughter. Astrid had very little room for mistake.

 

[Teal]

The woman pushed herself up on her forearms, the motion causing her chorded muscles to bulge. "I feel fine, really." Freyda stated, before sighing. "Well, maybe a little tired." She paused, turning her blue eyes toward Astrid. "I'm mostly worried my edge is goin'. Its been ages since I last fought."


But of course, it had only been a few months, at worst.


"...been taking the pills da' ordered for me -" supplementary vitamins, Astrid knew. Useful in the Hearth where food was spartan at best, even for the wealthy. Whether they worked or not was a little suspect - "and eating for two besides." She patted her swollen stomach, before grimacing. "Could do without the second serving of Hearthgreens though." Astrid knew they were extremely bitter. Some even said not fit for human unconsumption. But, little grew here that tasted good - even when the seeds were imported.


The door opened suddenly - it was Hilda. "Hey, Astrid, there are some guards coming this way. Looks like one of them got hurt."


That happened a lot.

 

[Maxiom]

"I'm mostly worried my edge is goin'. Its been ages since I last fought."


"Well, I don't know much about fighting," Astrid replied, "but I'm sure you'll pick it back up." Freyda, a great ice explorer, had been on many adventures prior to Astrid's arrival in the Hearth. It was a career Astrid could admire; she liked the idea of traveling without worry, but doubted she had the skill to keep up with the dangers it would present.


"...been taking the pills da' ordered for me - and eating for two besides. Could do without the second serving of Hearthgreens though."


"Well, its just a concession you'll have to make," Astrid said, taking notes. "Eating plenty now will make it all the easier to take care of the baby when the time comes."


Astrid's head swung behind her as she heard the hinges move on the door. Her bodyguard stood at the door, apparently having stopped her exercises. "Hey, Astrid, there are some guards coming this way. Looks like one of them got hurt."


"Oh dear..." Astrid muttered. "I'm sorry Freyda, I'll have to attend to this." She moved across the room to grab Freyda's shirt, passing it to her quickly as she called over to Erik. Once the woman was dressed, she helped her to her feet. "Erik! Can you make sure Freyda gets back to her quarters safely?"


Not waiting for a response from the poor boy, she called back to Hilda, "go ahead and see them in; I'll do what I can." She hoped it wasn't as serious as the incident earlier; such a surgery was a once-a-day event for her.

 

[Teal]

The pale haired woman was already on her feet, by the time Astrid passed her shirt to her. Freyda shrugged into it with practiced ease. She didn't speak, but didn't seem upset, as she moved to the door - but carefully stayed to the size. Hilda had vanished from the doorway already - presumably waiting outside, or going to meet the guards that were coming.


"Erik!" Astrid snapped, causing the boy to jump. "Can you make sure Freyda gets back to her quarters safely?"


"Yes ma'am." He replied - perhaps a little louder than necessary - and getting to his feet.


"No need," Freyda stated, fingering the two axes that hung off her belt, "I'll be fine."


Whatever was said next was lost as Hilda burst in, followed by the guards. One was half-dragging, half carrying the other, and what had probably been food once covered both their uniforms.


"Doc...!"


Still a normal day.


* * *


Diamond Hearth - Several Months Ago (6th Day of Resplendent Earth)


The thick wool curtain rustled shut behind Astrid, as she stepped into a modest, but well-furnished, room. Before her was a pale haired man, broad shouldered and alabaster skinned – the clear marks of the Hearthborne – sitting behind a desk of light grey-blue stone. His clothing was plain undyed woolens – very informal. Morning light slipped into the room from a glass window behind him – Astrid could see the glittering glacier walls of the canyon through it. The air in the room was surprisingly comfortable – but then, it had internal heat.


"Ah, Astrid." His blue eyes were already on her. "It's good to see you." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, sit." The man was rustling through the piles of hide now - and not overly concerned if she did or not. "How is everything?" His tone was pleasant.

 

[Maxiom]

"Ah, Astrid."


"Good morning sir," Astrid replied. She shuffled into a the room a bit slowly, still trying to maintain a casual demeanor. She wasn't dressed for surgery at the moment - rather she wore a long black skirt and a dully colored top. A heavy but loose black jacket hung over the shirt, and a white scarf was wrapped around her neck. She soon removed the jacket and scarf however, as the heat of the house began to weigh down on her. She was somewhat relieved to see that Rolund was dressed more casually than she was.


"It's good to see you. Please, sit."


"Thank you," she replied as she placed her excess clothes on the back of the chair before she sat down.


"How is everything?"


She was relieved by the casual nature of his tone. "Things have been going fine so far sir. I've just been adjusting to my new surroundings. The Hearth is considerably different from Ironfall after all." That was rather an understatement all things considered. Ironfall was structured and orderly, and if Astrid had to describe the Hearth, the words 'Raw suffering torn from the bowels of Malfeas itself' would probably be involved, but she felt it would be in bad form to say that to her new boss.

 

[Teal]

He nodded, "Yes, my parents say something like that, from time-to-time." The man smiled at her, "Sometimes, I wonder why they stay!" He chuckled - a nice sound - before shaking his head.


"In any case..." The broad-shouldered man drew forth a sheet of hide from his stacks - it had been near the top, "...I remember you giving me a strange request yesterday." He brought it before himself, then nodded. "A book on death magic, apprentice-level - with a specialization in exorcism, if possible." The man set the letter down on his desk and folded his hands.


"Why do you need it?" His tone was both pleasant and professionally curious.

 

[Maxiom]

Astrid had hoped the letter would be enough; while Rolund was friendly enough, she didn't perceive him as a very compassionate man. Maybe the mines were coloring her view of the man and his family?


"I'll speak frankly," Astrid said, "I consider myself capable at what I do - I wouldn't be working here if I didn't have confidence in myself - but even a magical doctor can only do so much in a place like this. People die often - and some of them are going to die on my operating table."


She paused to let him consider what she said. "I grew up in a place touched by death, and I myself am touched by death. Every time someone dies in my ward and every time I use a charm, that building will get closer to being a place of power - potentially even a shadowland. That means whether or not I save someone, it'll likely get closer. And I feel it in bad form to treat a patient, be they one of your slaves or one of your relatives, in such a place."


Astrid let him have a moment before continuing. "Like I said, I'm not a stranger to this subject. I feel confident in my ability to handle such complications. All I need is for you to secure me the book, as the Hearth lacks a library."

 

[Teal]

Her employer nodded, slowly. "Jahrl did speak to me about this," he replied, "and he thought that allowing your workshop to turn into a place of power would make you a better doctor..." He gestured, gently, to her - as if prompting a comment.

 

[Maxiom]

"It... can," Astrid admitted. Jahrl had a point - a place of power is a useful thing. However, it was only useful if you could harness it in the right way.


"If you are willing to put forth the resources to make it into a manse, it can be of help," she continued. "However, if just left as a place of power, it can be detrimental. Such places are known to cause mutations, and the people who'd be afflicted are those who are injured or infirm to begin with. It would present a danger to my patients that I won't abide for Jahrl's sake."

 

[Teal]

Once again, her employer nodded - slowly. This probably wasn't an area that he knew much about. "It was never Jahrl's intent to leave it was a..." He frowned faintly, "Demense, I think, was the word he used." The man's pronouncation was off, but the word was close enough for Astrid to get the meaning. He shook his head, "But, if you're really that against it, I'll have him call the plan off." Another pause, "Could I ask you to sit down and work out the details of the arrangement with him? You seem to know more about magic."