Board Thread:Random RP/@comment-26444332-20170424191044/@comment-26444332-20170612154148

'Unfortunately, there's not an easy way to stop this war.'

The man nods. 'Christopher Spindle, at your service.' The woman clears her throat, and he nods apologetically before a magic circle spirals into existence over her chest, emblazoned with the crest of a six-winged caduceus. He hums for a moment before speaking.

'I think most of the cancerous cells have been removed from your lungs or reversed, Mss. O'Donnell, but I'll have to wait another day to see if I can safely perform a total sweep. Even magecraft has its limits, you know.'

She nods happily. 'Thank you, Dr. Spindle.' She says, before opening her nightstand drawer and attempting to Haden him some money. He waves her off. 'I don't need it; my living expenses are paid for by the town council, remember? No, just make a donation to the hospital and that should cover it.'

That done, they leave the house, and standing in front of their gate he rounds on them. 'So, to what do I owe the pleasure?'

'You're doing well, I see.' Azarias remarks as they continue walking. 'Can't complain.' Christopher replies. 'The town council pays for the mage's living expenses in return for services rendered; they do that the world over. But since Aynvale is a major mining town, a lot of people get into accidents or fall sick because of the toxins and the dust. I haven't been able to do much research into the causes because I have so many people to treat.'

'Why haven't you sent for an assistant?'

'I tried that; the Inquisition sent someone, but he was just a combat cleric. No medical training at all: I had to send him away.'

'And the academies?'

'The Amarian academies laughed outright at my request: they literally put "ha-ha-ha" in the letter. The Conmara academy has been shut down for five years because of the war, and my letters get intercepted by Solarians if I try to send them to Arcadia. They're terrified the Arcadians are going to intervene in the northern war.'

'What about mass-healings?'

'I'm not a healer, Az. I'm a physician. "Healers" wave their hands and say a few words before blindly applying regeneration magecraft, or "healing magic", over an area, mutating and creating who knows what in the ground or even in the people they're trying to help. Physicians diagnose the problem and treat that specifically without interfering in the other parts of the body. In any case, I would need to still diagnose the problem before attempting a large-scale regeneration of the body. I think it has something to do with that equipment they're using, but I can't be sure...'

'Right, right.'

They walk into the hospital, down the hall, and into his office: a warm and comfortable place, with a spacious desk and many hundreds of books of medicine and medical magecraft. Along one side of the room is a table with what appears to be an alchemical laboratory on it. Azarias looks at it intently.

'What have you got going on here?' he asks. Spindle laughs a little. 'I've been doing some research into bread molds, of all things, and I think I've found something interesting...'

Their talk quickly devolves into some sort of mage's speak, very technical, and using terms that half of which the group has never heard before.

'...And there you have it.' Spindle finishes. 'I think I could make a new medicine out of this.' Azarias claps once. 'I look forward to seeing it in action. May I speak to you privately?...' he says, nodding at the group, and the two mages leave for around ten minutes. When they return, Azarias herds them outside.

'Alright, I know where we have to go. I hope you liked walking and riding: we have a lot of it to do.'