The Hospital Nashkel and Anatole

Nobby · August 6, 2002, 10:09 AM

Situated near the centre of the city was a white washed building. A cluster of blue robed healers around it made clear that this was the hospital, and sounds of healing from inside left nothing to doubt. Screams of pain and racking coughs eminated from the building though occasionaly people walked out of the building and looked quite well despite the noise.

In a room on the second story, where many beds lined the walls opposite large windows which let in the warm spring sun, lay the combatants from the previous days boxing match.

Anatole heavily bandaged woke up in a bed with clean linens and the sun on his face. He felt quite warm and light headed, no doubt the work of drugs administered to him. His whole chest was wrapped up snuggly in white bandages and there was a splint down the side with the broken ribs. There was no pain now, and only the memory of the day before reminded him that he had broken several ribs and almost killed himself while fighting the giant.

As if to remind him further a snore from a bed next to his drew his attention and he again stared into the bulk of Nashkel. The giant was stretched out on a bed, just waking from some drug induced sleep. His face was bound in cloth leaving only his eyes and nose open. So tight were the bandages that he couldn't speak at all.

Besides the two fighters the room was empty, only another 12 empty beds were there for company. A door at the far end of the room was closed and the only exit out of the room. For Anatole to get there he would have to pass the giant.

Anatole Recurve · August 7, 2002, 08:21 PM

As Anatole woke, all he could see was the bright light shining down on him. He felt light headed and warm. Had that giant killed him, and this was Aetheria? He squinted, and raised his right hand slowly, trying to shield his face from the sun's rays. A scream rang out from somewhere out of sight, and the half-breed came to a terrible thought: perhaps he had been banished to Aeternia. He had made a life as a soldier, a man who kills for money...

Desperately, he looked around for a sign as to his location. 'Rows of beds... A bare interior...' he thought to himself. He realized that he had survived the bout, and was in one of Daltina's hospitals. He looked down at his own chest, and confirmed his inference. Bandages and a splint covered his chest, and it seemed that he had been given some drug to ease the pain.

Anatole's eyes widened as he heard snoring next to him. He began to sit up slowly, in fear of summoning pain from his wounds, and propped himself up with his arm. The half-orc blinked in amazement at who they'd placed next to him. It was Nashkel, the giant who had nearly done him in during yesterdays bout.

It seemed that the half-breed wasn't the only one to have suffered from the fight, and a tinge of sadistic pride flared up in Anatole. The massive humanoid had a jaw so heavily bandaged, it rivaled the shell that covered his own chest.

He looked at the giant and grinned broadly. Suprisingly, it was a genuine one, not born of malice and resentment. The fight was nothing personal, and Nashkel had won fair and square.

Nashkel Angor · August 16, 2002, 10:38 PM

Nashkel awoke... His head, no longer hurting was a relief in and unto itself... He was glad to be in his bed.... Although, he wish he could talk... He would defintally not try... for moving an already aggrivated wound would surly do more harm than good...

He then shut his eyes... feeling the texture of the clean, and soft feeling cloth against his body, and the warmth the blankets provided, and how the heat made him feel quite relaxed...

He let his mind wonder... and wonder it did... Back to the Cyrexian.... Nashkel would have preferred reliving that battle to the one that Anatole had given him.... A half orc- half elf had done more damage to the giant than a sixteen and a half foot tall Cyrexian...

He then got up the courage to stretch out his neck slightly... looking both directions, Nashkel saw Anatole... Staring streight at him... If his face would have been visable, Anatole would have seen a grimace of pain, but he only herd the slight 'humph' that Nashkel made in sympothy of Anatole's wounds...

Nashkel waved at him, and tried to explain that he couldnt talk... without saying anything... with only his hands... Then he motioned his best, 'Sorry' waves... but he wasn't sure how he could do that with out being misunderstood..

Nobby · August 17, 2002, 12:57 PM

OOC: You two have quality time together, i'll post when you want out.

Anatole Recurve · September 17, 2002, 05:47 PM

Anatole continued to gaze at the giant. His grin faded as he heard from underneath the bandages a 'Humph.' The half-breed squinted at Nashkel, amazed at what had apparently transpired. Was he, the victor of the fight, angry at the Anatole for causing some wounds, even in a losing effort? His harsh stare continued as he mulled over what Nashkel could mean.

Realization came in a few moments time what was meant. It seemed the giant felt sympathy, rather than angst. Anatole's squint was gone now, replaced by a slight smile. He nodded, a gesture that he had finally understood. It seemed that the talking would be up to him, since his former opponent, now comrade in pain, had his jaw tightly bound by bandages.

As Nashkel began to wave, Anatole tilted his head slightly to the left. His face contorted as he again battled to comprehend what was ment. As the gestures continued, he picked up on the meaning.

Taking a slow breath, the half-orc said, "Don't worry about it. I was trying my hardest to put you out of it too. If you hadn't hurt me, I'd've had to try to do it to you." As the words popped out of his mouth, he began to regret them. They seemed to be designed to set Nashkel at ease as well as to boost Anatole. It was not the intention, but that was the interpretation that he began to fear would come out.

Nashkel Angor · September 17, 2002, 06:46 PM

Nashkel would have said the same back to Anatole, but his jaw being so tightly wrapped, and was in so much pain, that he just sat there, and nodded slightly and gestured toward Anatole in a sortof 'me too, I understand gesture'.

Anatole Recurve · November 25, 2002, 07:40 PM

OOC: Sorry, I've been terrible at posting for quite a while now. I'm going to try to get back into the swing of things, and hopefully I'll be able to shake off the rust quickly enough. Our two threads together have taken forever to finish on account of me.

IC: Again, Anatole had to pause to comprehend Nashkel's gesturing. He stared at him, face slightly twisted as the loser of the bout tried to catch the giant's meaning. When he caught the meaning, the half-breed tilted his head back a bit, and said, "Ah, I see."

After this little comment, he drifted into a silent awkwardness. What could he say to a man who'd beaten him up only yesterday? There was little to respond to, seeing as the giant's jaw was heavily bandaged, and Anatole was not a well practiced socialite by any means. For the time being, he diverted his stare from the wounded man across from him, and took to gazing about the room distractedly.

Nashkel Angor · January 2, 2003, 09:14 PM

The pain in Nashkel's body flared, and he moaned painfully, and his gestering ceased. The giant had worked hard to slow his breathing, so as not to aggravate his wounds.

He noticed the calm halfling across from him. A seemingly nice fellow. A good fighter, Nashkel thought, especially for one so short and small. Perhaps the two may one day become friends, for Nashkel had always thought that fighting can brought two people together more than anyother thing in the universe.

But he also knew fighting could grow into bitterness...

He hoped that this would not be their fate...