Characters:

Projects:

Other Stuff:

Like what you see?  Don't like it?  Just enjoy writing emails?  Regardless, send me a message at

icefire_147@yahoo.com

I'll probably write back, if it's not spam or random flames.

Back to Logs:

Harper's Tale 2 - Saturday, August 10, 2002, 3:45 PM
----------------------------------------------------

Healer Passage
This passage is the linkage from the main hold of Ista to the main Healer Hall. Off to the side you can see the door to the infirmary, and that is where you need to go if you want the help of a healer. Straight ahead you can see a light spilling in from the Great Hall of the Healer Hall. The passage is well lit with glows that show how sparkling clean the hallway is.
You see Sheena and Jibril here.
Graiham is here.
Obvious exits:
Ista Great Hall     Infirmary     Healer Great Hall

The ground suddenly seems to fall away from you, then just as quickly snaps back, throwing you to the ground. There is a loud roar, and a violent rumbling, as the ground bobs up and down, vibrating as though it had been plucked like a string. Rocks tumble off of hillsides, and walls crack under the sudden force.

"Dear Faranth's backside!" Morallen manages to get out, as the lanky healer is tossed to the suddenly-bucking ground. "Wyn was /right/...!"

And there was Graiham with a whole ARM load of fresh sheets. The bulk of them go airborne at the sudden rupture, white linen billowing as it unfolds and the Intrepid Apprentice crashes right on his butt. "What's this about!" he fairly demands, albeit stupidly, reaching for the corridor wall to steady himself as the sheets sail to the ground.

Kiriya stealthily and gracefully stalks in from the Hold Infirmary and Healer Hall.

The violent, roaring quake continues; cracks split the ground and walls, and the shuddering earth makes it difficult to stand. People and creatures alike panic as the ground seems to come apart under the tremors.

"Oh my FARANTH!" Kiriya falls flat on her face as she comes out of the infirmary. "What, by Faranth's aureate behind, is going on?!" The frightened young woman will not stumble completely if she gets on her knees, so she does so. "If the roof starts caving in I'm going to scream."

Morallen staggers along the rocking hallway like a drunk, leaning against the wall for support. "I don't know..." he mutters to the other two, hard to hear over the roaring. "I don't /know/. It's a groundquake... Wyn said something about rocks from space..."

Graiham braces himself against the wall, trying vainly to get to his feet and succeeding only so far as lurching to his knees and landing back on all fours atop the scattered sheets. (And they were such very clean sheets!) "We should get outta this hall," he shouts, eyeing the ceiling dubiously as powdery dust starts trickling from it.

The tremors seem to shake apart hold and weyr alike. Walls crumble, doorways set ajar by the ripping stone. The violent shaking continues.

"A groundquake? Great. Just great." Kiriya stammers. "Yes, Graiham, that would be an EXCELLENT idea. Morallen? Can you help me up? We need to find somewhere SAFE. Great hall, everybody!" she exclaims.

"Are you crazy?" replies Morallen in a bellow, to carry over the roar of the ground. "The great hall is a big cavern... if anything collapses, it'll be /there/. We're safer /here/."

Graiham is still eyeing the ceiling, pensive as he settles to just riding it out on the floor, hanging on to the wall as best he can but not working hard to get back to his feet now. "What if the hallway gives? What about outside? What about the ceiling?" He gestures upward frantically as a little more dust rains down from the corners.

After what seems like an eternity, the rumbling begins to abate. Dust fills the already smoke-filled air.

"Well..." Cough. "Get down, smoke rises!" Kiriya exclaims again, staying in her kneeling position. "Even if dust doesn't, at least we won't have smoke in our lungs?" She's a pretty pale shade right now, in contrast with her dark clothing. "And be careful, too."

Another rumble, and an aftershock rips across the island, tossing more dust and debris.

Graiham, already on his hands and knees, looks over at Kiriya for a second like she's just said the dumbest thing he's heard in a very long time (no offense). "I think that was - " He stops, falling against the wall during the aftershock, coughing a few times into the dusty, smoky air. "Shells! We can't just stay here!"

"We need to get to the Infirmary..." mutters Morallen, looking rather ghostly in his coating of dust. He repeats this a little louder, standing gingerly. "We're Healers, aren't we? People are going to be hurt... we need to get to where we can /help/ them."

Graiham coughs again, this time into the curve of his palm. "And do what?" He pulls himself to his feet after the shaking, standing a little shakily as if he expects to fall again any second now. "Just wait for them to come to us? What if they can't get here? What if the whole rest of the Hold is collapsed?" He slaps his palm against his face, raising a little puff of dust.

Aerrin walks in.
Aerrin slips to the Infirmary.

"Because, you twit," Morallen bites out, his affable manner quite gone for the moment. "It's easier for them to come to us, if they know where we /are/. We need to get to the infirmary and /help/." And, turning on his heel, he steps over various chinks of fallen rock, and heads down the passage.

You go to the Hold Infirmary and Healer Hall.
Hold Infirmary and Healer Hall
With a faint smell of redwort, the room is astonishingly clean, even for an infirmary. Recently made tapestries cover the outer wall of the cavern, protecting the patients from the weather outside. Shelves line two of the walls, with healing supplies neatly placed on the labeled slots. Cabinets are above them, where herbs and medicines are stored, a few with locks that only masters have access to. Cots line the remaining wall, with sheets that can be pulled around the bed for privacy or surgery. Glows are fastened everywhere, giving this room an intense brightness.
You see Master Maladi, Melanie, Infirmary Cabinet, and Sign - List of Cabinet Contents here.
You notice 5 people asleep here.
Aerrin is here.
Obvious exits:
Healer Passage

Graiham strolls in from the Healer Passage.
Magen walks in from the Healer Passage.

Graiham kicks off one of the sheets he'd been carrying, leaving it in a big mess in the corridor as he finally manages to get it untangled from his foot. "All that work," he groans upon seeing the state of the infirmary, once more clapping his palm against his forehead a little melodramatically.

Kylianna wanders in from the Healer Passage.

Spotting Master Aerrin, Magen calls to her. "Is everyone okay in here?"

Aerrin is standing in the middle of a mess - and it's not just the broken bottles and unrolled bandages that's creating it. People are milling around in confusion, some actually hurt and bleeding, others just shell-shocked and confused. Aerrin doesn't look to sure of what's going on herself. As several aprentices are spotted, Aerrin's hand flies into the air, and Emergency Mode kicks in. "Healers! Get over here!"

Fareia sashays in from the Healer Passage.

Morallen shuffles in, liberally covered in plaster and rock dust, and looking not in the least affable and easygoing. "Right with you, ma'am," he calls, gaping at the upheaval. "Shards..." he mutters. "Looks like those shelves weren't needed much anyways..."

Magen rushes to the Masters side, waiting for instructions.

Graiham kicks a little broken glass out of his path, swiping the ground clean with the flat of his foot as he hurries toward Aerrin. Dusty, dirty, and a little frazzled, he swipes a cleanish cloth off a cot in passing, using it to scrub the grime off his palms as he falls in, roundabout front and center. Understandably a little dazed.

Kylianna darts into the infirmary, just in time to hear Aerrin. And with proper healer-hurrying, she steps over a few broken bottles, nose wrinkling as she nearly plants her foot in a shattered jar of numbweed. "Mrph," she mutters, but quickly glances at Aerrin as she picks her way over. Meerph.

"Ok. The infirmary's not looking in such good shape," Aerrin points out needlessly, lifting a hand to indicate the littered floors, broken vials, lopsided cots, and tumbled shelves. "And it looks like..." She trails off for a moment, looking slightly lost before she drags in a breath and begins again. "It looks like we're going to need all hands. Let's get cots out to the Great Hall, and have someone running stock in here to find supplies we need. If you don't have a patient, go /find/ one.. I'm sure there are lots of people who'll be needing stitching up today. Just... keep calm, and come find me or.. Or someone else if you don't know what to do." Wow, that was informative. At least she /sounds/ like she's in charge.

Fareia finds her way into the infirmary, kicking through dust as she totes along a large basket of extra bandages. "I took it upon myself to raid to stores?" Dusty, but otherwise okay, healer senior appy drops the basket on a counter,"I can do stock? I made sure to glance over how much extra stuff we had..."

Magen looks around the room, "I'll take stock, and clear the broken glass." Standing a cot upright, she heads over to the cabinet...

"Aye, ma'am..." replies Morallen, picking through the scattered supplies from the cabinets and trying to find surviving herbs. "Got some numbweed pots over here!" he calls, scooping up three undamaged ones that happened to be pillowed by some gowns. "And... some bandages and redwort." Collecting the precious supplies, and bundling them in the tatters of an infirmary gown, he proceeds to head towards the door out.

You go to the Healer Passage.
You go to the Great Hall.

Great Hall
With a dome-shaped ceiling reaching up almost beyond the light cast by numerous glows surrounding the hall, this room can be none other than the Hold's great hall. The floor is solid grey stone, slightly worn from the hundreds of Turns of use it's been through. Four `tapestries' hang around the hall at seemingly random intervals, coloring the otherwise dull hall. An assortment of tables and chairs and couches are strewn about the hall for any who wish to take a rest during their labors, but mostly people are using the great hall as a center for moving to other places. Archways and doors lead everywhere, but the most dominant doors are the great double doors to the east, leading out to the courtyard.
Gliding around are six firelizards.
You see Big Red Shmear here.
Obvious exits:
Great Doors     Flying Mug     Dining Hall     Shops     Guard Office     Main Hallway     Crafthalls
Graiham strolls in from the Healer Passage.

Aerrin slips in from the Healer Passage.
Kylianna wanders in from the Healer Passage.
Fareia sashays in from the Healer Passage.
Liesana steps silently in through the great doors from the courtyard.
Synte walks in through the great doors from the courtyard.
Polop walks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

Synte allows himself to be led by Liesana, dully, trudging in, leaning heavily against the makeshift crutch and glaring down at the offending ankle. "I hate sprains," he morosely states, though internally knowing that his ankle's much worse off than a mere sprain.

Carrianna walks in from the Main Hallway.
Magen walks in from the Healer Passage.

Liesana staggers in, attempting to support the weight of the significantly-taller-than-her Synte. "Heh. I'm no Healer, but if that's a sprain, then I'm Lady Boll." she snaps, the Harper Master still decidedly lacking in normal diplomacy. "We've got a broken something or other over here," she calls, pointing to the stablehand.

Polopcolloquirenae nods, taking the names in: Liesana and Synte, trailing along after Synte and Liesana like a lost puppy dog - she's no idea what in Faranth's name she should do except for /that/. Wandering in from the Stables, now, she peeks about the area. She doesn't exactly offer help, either - not sure of what she could do.

Carrianna blinks in confuson are she enters the great hall wondering what the fuss is all about.

Graiham drags the bandage-laden cot toward the center of the room, then scurries back down the corridor and repeats the process, bringing more herbs, bandages, twine, needlethorns, et al, piled upon the second one. He's good at this manual labor stuff. He commandeers a table onto which he can unload the burndened cots, leaning against it for a second to catch his breath. Huff-puff.

Magen carries in a bucket of clean water in one hand, and a basket of supplies from the infirmary, in the other hand. "Graiham, who can I give this to?"

Fareia follows the other healers into the hall, pots of numbweed and other herbs piled into her large basket of bandages. Couches and tables are pointed at,"We could use those as cots?" Basket is set in a chair and the pots and the supplies are added to the the table which seems to be stocked with such things. Synte is waved towards a chair,"Come sit, come sit..." And to Magen,"Drop the stuff on the table, Magen?"

The hall is full of healers rushing this way and that as hurt people come straggling in. "Um.. can I help" She asks uncertainly to the nearest healer.

Morallen follows the other senior apprentices, carefully setting down his precious cargo of supplies that have survived the shaking. The pots of numbweed and bottles of redwort are parceled out, one per cot, and he distributes the bandages in similar fashion. "I can take someone over here," he announces as well, after Farie takes charge of Synte.

Synte glares sideways, beligerantly. "Okay, then, Lady Boll," he drawls. "I hate healers," he half-whines, half-grumbles. "Why are they so.. healer-ish?" He's not totally coherant. Pain. Definitely in pain. He blinks at Fareia, and eases into the chair. He /does/ have the grace to look up and nod at Liesana half-heartedly. "Thank you. We'll get your runner back.." A wince from the pain. "...as soon as we can."

Aerrin is near the front of the Hall, directing people this way and that as they arrive. Injured are shuffled off to one of the cots or makeshift beds that have been dragged out from the wrecked infirmary, while those who simply seem to be shocked are directed to some useful task or another. Want something to do? She's probably the one to see.

Graiham tries to keep some sort of order to the stuff he arranges on the table, but it's not much - herbs at one end, bandages at the other, and a big pile of miscellaneous in the middle. Finally, he's got two nicely prepared cots and one table full of a jumbled mess of supplies. A little station all ready, one of the injured winds up there directly and a flurry of Apprentices descend on the fellow. (It's good practice.)

Magen nods to Fareia, and sets down her supplies. "Right. I'll go get more clean water." And grabbing an empty bucket she heads out.

"Quit thinking about the sharding /runnerbeasts/, man." mutters Liesana under her breath. "They'll take care of themselves, you worry about yourself." She leads him over towards Fareia, stooping to help assist him down to the cot, and then standing about looking somewhat out of place and lost. "Right, then." she intones.

Kylianna is quite the productive little bunny, gritting her teeth as a little kid shrieks in her face. A numbweeded gash on the little boy's hand is gleaming red, and the healer remains hunched over it, eyes narrowed as she starts to stitch the injury together. Though she looks ready to decapitate the child, as the fake smile on her face tightens.

Polopcolloquirenae just blindly wanders about - well, keeping herself out of the way of others. But at last she manages to say, "Is there someway I could help?" Already tying her mass of cream up into ponytails, in case it might help, she looks around anxiously at all the wounded.

Graiham, seeing a chance to be useful without having to haul around cots full of junk, makes his way over to Kylianna directly. "That," he begins, sidling up to the little kid and peering at the hand, "is going to be a great scar. How many stitches do you think he's going to be lucky enough to get, Journeyman Kylianna?" It's a blatant ploy to get the kid to shut up.

Fareia sits down at the end of the chair. "We're healerish because we're healers," answers the healerish healer in a healerly way. Farie quickly unlaces the boot on Synte's obviously injured foot, carefully easing it off. "Okay, hold your leg out. Now try and move your foot around in a circle." The healer demonstrates,"Like this."

Aerrin sweeps by Polopcolloquirenae on her way across the Great Hall, a large tin held in one hand. "Need something to do?" she questions, tilting her head toward the girl before she stops by a women with tears streaking down her face, kneeling to lift her leg and inspect a large scrape across one calf.

Morallen finds himself something to do as one of the old kitchen aunties comes tottering over, clutching a burned hand and whimpering that "I were just cooking when th' shakin' kem, lad. Just cooking..." With an understanding nod, the young man pats her undamaged hand and gently guides the elderly woman to a seat on the cot. "I know, auntie, I know. Now, I'll just clean that right up, and we'll have it numbed and bandaged up quick as a wink..."

Keliana walks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

Saved. Kylianna casts a grateful look over at Graiham, relief in her eyes as the child's screaming lowers an octave, then pauses for a moment. The boy's eyes widen, no longer staring at Kyli's slow stitching. "Oh, I don't know," she responds, a little /too/ cheerfully, "I suppose he'd get ten or so... It'll be a /good/ scar, though. Right?" And the little boy makes a little 'ooooh' sound. "A /neat/ scar?" the boy asks.

Carrianna stands aside feeling useless, barely getting out of the way of a hurrying apprentice. Slowly back away from the chaotic scene, the distress of so many in pain greatly disturbing her. 'Really she would just be in the wasy...' She thought as she blaunched at a particular nasty wound and quickly fled.

Synte eyeballs Liesana for a long moment. "The runnerbeasts are my life," he frankly replies. Ahem. "I... can't," he pants, after a moment of trying to circle his foot. Black spots hover infront of his eyes when he attempts to move it, again, and he leans back, sweating from the effort.

Carrianna walks through the great doors into the courtyard.

"My Harpers..." murmurs Liesana to herself, now that Synte seems to be attended to. "I have to see to my Hall..." And with that, the Master crosses the floor and steps gingerly through the half-off-their hinges doors to Harper Hall.

Liesana steps silently through an archway into the Harper's crafthall.
Keliana walks through the great doors into the courtyard.

Polopcolloquirenae nods quickly at Aerrin quickly, glancing nervously at all the injures. "That...would be lovely," she says, giggling out of nervousness. "Heh. I've never healed anyone before, y'know. Maybe something...not so complicated?" is suggested by Pol.

Keliana walks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

"Oh, a GREAT scar," Graiham reiterates, tilting his head to peer at the wound as if ever-so-intently. "And ten stitches! Shells!" He slaps his fingers to his forehead a little melodramatically. "Not just that - " He cups a hand around the kid's ear and stage-whispers. " - you can tell them that you got a JOURNEYman to stitch it for you, not just an Apprentice. Lucky." He leans against the end of the kid's cot. "Where's your mom at?" he adds, and the kid points toward a woman hurrying over just presently.

Magen rushes in with two buckets of clean water. Looking over the room, she can see the Master's work at hand. Organized chaos. Aerrin would be sorting out the serious from the not so serious injuries. Magen leaves the buckets of water in the area designated 'serious injuries', and looks for more empty buckets...

"Don't worry," Aerrin answers with a small smile before she murmurs a few words to the woman and applies a generous glob of numbweed. "I wouldn't let you touch a patient. Just the bandages. There's a mass on the table up front, and they need rolled and distributed to the Healer's who're splinting and tying up wounds, if you could? Getting some water might not be a bad idea, either."

Morallen still works on the auntie, cleaning the burn as gently as possible, and applying a thick layer of numbweed, before taking one of the surviving gauze bandage rolls, (Interestingly, one of the batch he prepared just yesterday,) and dressing the injury. "There you go, ma'am. Next?"

"Should be fine at the edges, it's just really deep right here," Kylianna murmurs, glancing down at the injury, before wrinkling her nose. "Make it sixteen stitches. Gotta make sure it'll heal all together. But I'm /sure/ your friends will be jealous of you." She nods as she finishes the last stitch, knotting the thread and cutting off the excess, before peering at Graiham, a little smile on her lips. "You want to bandage that? I think he likes you." Far more than her, certainly, and the healer can only offer a quick glance to the boy's approaching mother.

Fareia takes a knee, carefully propping Synte's foot up on her knee. "Your harper master was correct. That's not just a sprain." Fare eyes the swelling ankle, very gently running a hand over it. "Ankles..." Eyebrows knit together before she swings a stool around infront of Synte. "Stay there. I'll be right back." Healerlet dissappears down towards the infirmary, and returns with a bone healer. "Ankles are complicated, but you should be alright," Fare explains as the bonehealing specialist makes their way over to Synte, Fare following with numbweed, which is spread on the boy's ankle. "This is Journeyman Cherra. She specializes in bones. And you broke one. But you'll be fine. Ankles are just a bit tricky is all..."

Polopcolloquirenae nods at Aerrin gratefully, hopping to her newly-assigned task with vigor. Bandages are taken and rolled with military-like precision before passed off to the Healers that need them. Her first passed on to a Healer Journeyman treating a man's bleeding leg, the second onto an apprentice who's applying numbweed. Water is also thought of, and will most likely be gathered in seconds.

Graiham beckons the mother, who's kind of hovering insubstantially a few feet away. "Sure," he says to Kylianna, and snags one of those tidily rolled bandages, unravelling it deftly. "See, the only problem now is that you can't go swimming till it's healed," he explains to the kid while wrapping the stitching. "But, hey, it's worth it to have a scar, right?" He stops and says a few quiet words to the mother, then leaves the duo alone, peering briefly.

Synte settles his head back. "That sucks," he mutters at Fareia's words. "Okay," he faintly states. "It's not like I'm going anywhere," is half-growled. "I broke my ankle? Again?" He actually whines. Doot. "Hello, journeyman. Feel like fixin' me or drugging me or just making the pain go away?" The man's face is creased with pain, and his eyes are beginning to glaze over.

A few swift loops have the woman's scrape bandaged, and Aerrin's rising to her feet again. She moves toward the door, stopping to glance over a few who have wandered in since she last directed traffic and sending them one direction or another, depending on their severity. A child with his hands clutched to his bloody nose, tears streaming down his face, is sent toward an apprentice, while she directs a husband carrying his wife, a large gash in her abdomen, toward the more serious side of the makeshift infirmary.

Journeywoman Cherra, the bonehealer-type, sits at Synte's feet. "This may twinge a bit," warns the journeywoman as she quickly sets the bone after making sure there was a nice amount of numbweed spread over the harper's ankle, and wraps it up to keep the ankle still. "You're to stay in bed for a good four weeks. No walking about. You can send others to get things for you, and I'm sure the harper archivists will be happy to have a pair of hands free to copy. Got it?"

Keliana shuffles into the Great Hall from the courtyard, looking slightly dazed and quite confused. Helen is fluttering about her head looking highly worried and chittering insanely in front of her face, a golden blur about the Apprentice. The girl's face is merely dirty, with a few small negligible scratches, but her arm hangs slightly limp at her side, from the elbow almost to the pulled through with a deep gash. Her skirt is torn and one knee is skinned from a thorough tossing on the ground, and the rest of her is a mess but unhurt. She blinks and looks about the flurry of activity in the Great Hall and she chews on her lip, her eyes watering slightly.

Synte stares at Cherra for a long, long time. "Four /weeks/?!" He stares, and groans, and leans back. "But the /stables/... No riding, I take it?" The stablehand sighs. "I don't /want/ to make the harper archivists happy." Sniff. You know he's better-- well, atleast /alive/ -- when he's arguing.

Morallen finishes up tending his next patient, a young man with a lovely scalp wound. He ties off the last of his stitches, and spots Journeywoman Cherra withdrawing. Vulturelike in his black clothes, he swoops in to chat with Synte. "Once you get the splint off, come see me. Senior Apprentice Morallen. Physical Therapy Specialist. I can get you on your feet faster..." he mutters, and then swoops away. "Over here, miss," he calls to Keliana. "Have a seat on this cot, and I'll get you fixed up in time for the next Gather."

"Nice job, senior apprentice. Ever think about going into pediatrics?" Kylianna is practically beaming at Graiham, though her eyes quickly dart to the door, eyes widening. "Looks like we've got more work to do. Aerrin!" The healer's quick to call out to the master, heading away from the boy and his mother. "Who do you want us to get now?"

Fareia watches as Cherra moves to someone else, then takes over Synte. "That's right. No riding. No stables. You stay in bed. Sit there until someone can help you back to the dorms, okay? I'm Healer Apprentice Fareia, by the way. In case you need something..." A glance around and she moves over to the other healers. "Who's next?' she asks as she dusts her hands on her skirt.

"Kyli!" Aerrin calls in relief, sliding toward the Journeyman as she sends another pair with minor cuts and scrapes off to wait on one side for available healers. "We've got a nasty gash and a couple of minor breaks.. some burns, I think..." she trails off, sweeping bits of sweat-drenched hair backward. "Shards. We have just about anything you could want."

Synte gives an unhappy mutterance, but settles back in his chair and nods acceptance at both Fareia and 'Allen.

Graiham glances back over his shoulder, following after Kylianna like a dutiful little mentee. "I don't like kids," he replies frankly, though he nonetheless winds up heading toward the kid with the bloody nose. With a hand on top of the boy's head, he steers him to a place out of the way, then crouches down in front of him, whistling low and impressed. "That's a nice one. Can you move your hands for me?" And so the kid does, and Graiham whistles again. "Well, we better get you a cot, huh?" He picks up the kid and deposits him neatly nearby. Ta-dah.

Polopcolloquirenae continues the dull work (although it isn't seeming dull, now) of folding bandages and passing them onwards, also dashing out at sporadic intervals to gather water and heave it back inside of the triage carefully, to give to use to some journeyman or apprentice. And then back to bandages, of course.

Kurt stalks in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.

Helen continues to screech a melancholy trumpet and spiral about Keliana's head, keeping a small bronze from darting in when he makes the attempt every once in a while, before blinking out again. Keli blinks again in a daze, her eyes unfocusing as she shuffles further into the Hall. Low pain tolerance, and the sight of blood makes her sick. She's not having a good time. The puddling eyes are welling over and her lip is chewed upon furiously, and she makes her way to where Morallen beckoned her, Helen chittering loudly and snapping at those victims and healers that venture near.

"Great. Just what we need. Variety," Kylianna mutters dryly, shaking her head as she glances back at Graiham. "Well, you're good with 'em, at least." And the smile widens as she watches him take the bloodied child off to a cot. "Isn't he great, Aerrin?" She's got good little mentees, she does. But it's back to healer mode as she glances around. "I'm stocked on thread and redwort, I'll think I'll handle another gash. ...Oh, that one." And Kyli's off again, striding over to a young woman with a rather mangled gash on her calf. The healer just winces, before crouching down before the tearful woman. "Looks like you've got some dirt in there, I'll clean it out... It's deep, but it'll heal fine, ma'am. Want to tell me what happened?" An ear is kept open to the explanation as she gets out a container of redwort and a clean cloth.

"Fabulous," Aerrin replies dryly before she turns to give attention to someone tugging on her elbow. "In the back of the infirmary.. probably under the shelves that collapsed," she informs the apprentice, apparently looking for some herb or another in the trashed infirmary down the hall. She spins again at a call of "Master Aerrin!" from across the Hall and instantly makes her way toward a teenage boy, his leg lying at an angle that's anything but natural.

Graiham looks dubiously at Kylianna after the compliment, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he goes back to his patient, gently prodding the kid's nose and asking if this hurts? And this? Hmmmm. A quick dunk in the redwort and he snags a pot of numbweed, slathering the bridge of the boy's nose lightly. "Now just tilt your head back and hold right here." He demonstrates, lightly pinching the bridge of his own nose. "And it'll stop bleeding on its own in no time." He hovers a while longer, cleaning a few scrapes and stuff tidily. "All! Better!"

Muddy, dusty, disheveled and with clothes nearly torn to shreds the young Harper Master Kurt shuffles his way through a thick cloud of ash and smoke, clutching his 2 turn old son close to him, using his body as a sheild from the ash and smoke. The toddler however is crying inconsolably. Kurt walks forward, a distant look in his eyes. Other than a dozen cuts or bruises, some of which leak red through his clothing, visible only by the layer of gray ash and dust making his black clothes nearly a light slate color. His walk is a bit wobbly but not from injury- the sole of his boot has partially torn away, making his step unsteady.

Morallen offers Keliana a hand as he motions her to the cot, manner quiet but optimistic, despite the rather rakish air that a hairdo full of rock dust lends one. "Now, the other cuts aren't too bad, but that arm looks pretty impressive. I'll be as quick with the redwort as I can, and then I'm going to numb it and you can critique my stitching job, how's that?" he outlines to procedure as simply as possible, cleaning his hands as best he can, before readying a gauze bad soaked in redwort. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?"

Mynd walks with silent footsteps in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.
Liesana steps silently in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.
Ylisa walks in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.
Kirsyn sidles, hips a-swaying, in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.
Niara slips softly in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.
Pae gambols in through the great doors from the courtyard.

The Harper is back... and she's brought friends. Or, actually this is far from a social call. Liesana, along with Ylisa, Kirsyn, and Niara, is hauling in an unconscious Journeyman Mynd with what looks to be a very broken arm and a head wound bleeding like only headwounds can. And her player hopes she's got the injury tally right. "Staircase is collapsed... is there a Healer free?"

With Aerrin bent in intense concentration over a rather nasty fracture, no one seems to be directing traffic in the Great Hall - the place is a mad flurry of blood, bandages, patients, and Healers, many shouting above the noise in search of a loved one or requesting a mass of bandages. For her part, Aerrin's up to her elbows in redwort and reaching for a large tin of numbweed.

Synte shifts uncomfortably, watching the activities with pain-dulled eyes. His eyes snap up the scene of Liesana and the harpers -- including that short one with a headwound. A shudder. "Can I /help/ at all?" From his chair. He can direct traffic! Cough.

Boom! The doors open and two shaken riders - N'zgul and Pae - enter the area, not-so-quietly entering the area. Pae's at a loss for words, but N'zgul takes care of it. "Hey!" he exclaims. "Can anyone give us some help?" Pae rolls her eyes. "What th'young one means, is can 'Igh Reaches Weyr bring th'seriously 'urt 'ere? We can't 'andle it all with only one 'ealer." Can anyone understand either rider? Nobody knows. Yet.

Kirsyn supports Mynd's neck, as asked by Liesana, trying to carefully maneuver about. She's starting to feel the wear 'n tear as well, gasping every so often, though infrequent enough that it seems clear to her it's no real problem. "Yes," she manages to croak. "Staircase collapsed."

Graiham pats the kid on the leg and then heads over toward the newly arrived Harper group. "Put him on that cot," he says, pointing to the one next to the little kid. "And I'll take a look at the head, but... Where'd Kylianna go?" He whirls ni a circle, looking for the Journeyman in question. Chaos!

Kylianna has cleaned out the wound, peering at the gash for another other bits as she liberally applies redwort. Her stitches are a little quicker this time, the glaze of numbweed having sent the woman into a slightly more calm state, but the stitches are going more quickly, lining down the leg. "It'll leave a bit of a scar, but it'll fade. Not too bad...," she reassures with a soft voice, though as she glances towards the door, she swallows hard. "Let's get you finished," she mutters hurriedly, her pace of stitching still careful and steady.

Fareia is just standing in the middle of the chaos, glancing over the peopple straggling in. "I'm free, I'm free. Take a seat on one of the couches for a minute?" A bandage is held out to Liesana,"Press that on his head, okay?" And with that the healer turns to the other harper master,"Master Kurt. What did you do now?" asks Fare as she ushers him towards a couch.

Mynd is..carried. Well go figure. He's certainly not walking anywhere by himself, being unconscious. Stupid ungrateful staircase, falling down while he's walking on it. Really, how mean of it. Still, his breathing is a bit labored, only taking in short breaths.

Kurt's hair, which had been cropped to chin length stands out in an unruly dusty mess, lacking its usual style. The Harper might be unrecognizable, but he doesn't help by not making much effort to identify himself. Instinctively he tries to comfort the wailing child, just staring straight ahead as if completely in shock. "Hey, can I help you?" a random helper asks, waving a hand in front of his face. "Master Aerrin, we have a child...maybe two, three turns?" she announces, indicating Kurrin.

Dona walks in from the Main Hallway.
Dona runs from her hiding place, spots Mynd and latches on, remarkably quiet.

Polopcolloquirenae piles some more bandages on the table, feeling her knees start to wobble. Deciding this might be a good chance to move on to someplace more useful, or a resting place. With careful steps she makes her way out of the area, and onto other places. While player is dealing with spam, and needs to have this alt disappear.

Ylisa can't concentrate on anything else except picking her way through the rubble while she's carrying Mynd, but once he's safely on the indicated cot, she straightens up, rubbing aching hands together, and looks round. "However did they get all this organised so quickly?" Then she stands blinking for a few seconds, just taking it all in. "What now?"

Polopcolloquirenae goes home.

Magen carrying in more buckets of clean water, looks at the scene before her. Riders from High Reaches wanting to transport patients here. And a man carrying a child. Magen suddenly recognizes the man with child. Turning to Master Aerrin, she gently tries to get her attention. To get Aerrin to turn around...

Keliana thanks Morallen faintly with a mutter and sits down on the cot, glancing about the room with blurry eyes. Helen, however, doesn't seem to trust this dusty-haired healer. She screeches and flutters about her humanpet, not quite scratching Morallen but not quite letting him near. Keli faintly protests and tries to speak Helen down, without much success as she hadn't quite made herself loud. The skinned knee has finished turning colors and is now slowly oozing down her knee, and the arm hangs limply at her side, marring her dress crimson.

Liesana takes the bandage and stares at it for a moment as Fareia scuttles away. And then gamely turns to the other Harpers. "Right... you heard the lady, let's get him down on the cot, girls," the young Master directs, unaware of the presence of Kurt or Kurrin as she focuses on her unconscious mentee. Who now has a kidlet attached to him. "Dona, come stand over by me, sweetie," she urges. "We need to be able to leave the Healers room to help Mynd." But, since she's been tasked to deal with his headwound herself, the Harper Master gingerly peels away the cloth covering the wound as soon as the Journeyman is settled, and applies the bandage and pressure.

Kirsyn nods nervously, shooting glances at the much-battered (in her opinion) Mynd every so often. "Yeah. Umm, what do they want us to do with him?" she asks quietly, nodding in obvious relief as Liesana steps in to answer her question. So Kirsyn also takes up her part of the load of heft Mynd to the cot.

Dona doesn't move, but stays near Mynd's side. "He's MY harper and I need to help, too!" she says defensively, pretty much trying to ignore the fact she has no idea where her twin is and is trying not to think about her and panic.

Seeing someone invariably more qualified on the case for Mynd, Graiham heads over toward the newly entered riders, directing some dazed looking soul out of the way as he passes. "The seriously hurt?" he repeats, crossing hastily. "No. No, absolutely no." Just in case it was overlooked thus far, "No. You can't bring seriously hurt people Between. But if you guys are that swamped, we can bring a few Healers to them instead. Will that work?"

Morallen settles on the cot beside Keliana, recognizing the symptoms of shock and realizing he might not get much cooperation from her. Gently, he picks up the wounded arm and begins to clean it with the redwort solution, tapping her fingertips with his own and watching critically for a reflex response. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?" he tries again. With a wound that deep, one has to watch for nerve damage.

Once Mynd is settled, Ylisa watches for a few seconds as Liesana attends to the head wound. Then she frowns, and takes a deep breath, expression momentarily distant as if she's trying to remember something. Turning slightly, she says quietly to Liesana, "Lies, nobody came past us when we were in there." No need to say where. "There must be people upstairs, and in the workshops."

Keliana finally talks (or yells, whatever you'd call it) Helen down to resting on the cot's edge, fluttering about it anxiously. Keli reaches out her arm with a very audible intake of breath and a cringe, and that cringe deepens as she wiggles her fingers slightly. "It-it really hurts," She stutters, cramping her eyes closed and gritting her teeth. Her movements are still slow and reflexes are off; and she still wobbles slightly.

Liesana hisses under her breath at Ylisa's words. "Shards... well, the worshops, it could just be that the doors are jammed shut, right...?" hazards the Master, attempting optimism. "As for the upper rooms, people have probably, quite sensibly, decided to wait until someone could fetch them a ladder." She continues to exert an even pressure on Mynd's head wound, having been a survivor of Jathen's first aid class for non-Healers. "Once Mynd is settled, we'll get a party together with ropes and ladders." she decrees, before silencing suddenly at the drumcode message. "Smoke and ash at Gar Hold," she translates, lous enough for any interested to hear. "They request Healers."

"One moment... can you look at them, please? I'm in the middle of..." Aerrin trails off without ever looking over her shoulder at the Healer and patients. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration, and she grunts slightly as she /heaves/ on the bone, attempting to slide the nasty fracture back into place.

Ylisa has connected.

"We can ask on that," N'zgul replied sharply. "Bringing Healers along...we can do that. If there's anyone willing to come.." Pae, on the other hand, looked skeptical and muttered to her bronzeriding companion. "Naz, there's noplace t'keep any more--" He cut her off. "We're stuck on the Sands, see, taking care of people, and it's...er, difficult." Pae kicked him in the shins. /She/ was supposed to be the diplomat.

Fareia drags some supplies over to Mynd, nodding to Liesana and waving her hand away, placing a fresh bandage on the injury,"Thank you..." Dona is eyed for a moment before the healer leans down to the girl,"Sweety, we need to take care of him. the best way you can help is to go sit in that chair over there...And I bet someone has a sweetstick for you if you go and ask.." With that, Fare further inspects Mynd's head. "I think..." a glance to the harpers who brought him in,"What's his name? Can you keep that bandage there until it stops bleeding?" Fare wrinkles her nose up as she discovers the broken arm. "Ouch. This needs to be set.." A glance at Mynd,"Hmm....What do I do if my patient's not awake for me to question?" she calls to any nearby ranker.

"I'm going to numb it as soon as possible," assures Morallen, squeezing her uninjured hand reassuringly as he finishes cleaning the wound on the other arm. And, as promised, one of the surviving tubs of numbweed is produced and, after redworting his hand, applied. "Now, you tell me when this is so numb you can't feel anything, got it?" Hazel eyes settle steadily on the Weaver's face for a moment. "It doesn't look like you've got any nerve damage to worry about, so once this heals, you'll be right as rain."

Kirsyn looks nervous at the possibility of more harpers being locked away, or injured, or worse - but maintains her calm, thanks to Liesana's words. Luckily so; for Kirsyn in a panic is not really a Kirsyn anyone wants to deal with, truthfully.

Dovella skips quietly in from the Main Hallway.

Liesana gives Dona an encouraging little nod, before, as senior Harper of the contingent, taking it upon herself to speak with Fareia. Of course, the apprentices can always add in their 2/32nds. "His name is Mynd, he's a Journeyman Harper... and my mentee," she murmurs. "He was on our hall's staircase when it collapsed underneath him." She steps back to give the healer room to work, and gives Kirsyn a reassuring smile.

Hedging a little and being hounded by the little kid who got the stitches earlier, Graiham tries to keep the sharp edge out of his voice as much as possible as he explains, "Well, you can't bring seriously injured people Between. So you two need to work out what you want to do and get back to me." He crouches next to the kid then, explaining carefully, "You have to leave the bandage on, or else you'll make it worse, and then we might have to cut off your arm." Hyperbole can be so effective with little kids.

If you're injured and you know it, raise your hand! If you're injured and you know it, raise your hand! If you're injured and you know it, then the blood will surely show it, if you're injured and you know it, raise your hand!!!

Dona starts to back away from Mynd, looking like tears might start to flow from her eyes at any moment, but she's really trying to be brave even if reality seems very unreal, now. Panic starts to rise as thoughts of Andria's absence nibble at her mind,b ut she sees Dovella and heads in her direction.

Dovella comes in, tears streak her face as she clutches a stuffed ovine to her chest. She looks at all the chaos and just can't quite comprehend it. Why is this happening? She's a little traumatized of course. A few cuts and scrapes show themselves on her brow and knees from all the tremors and such.

Merevan walks in from the Main Hallway.

Kirsyn contains a whimper - for the harperlet, it's all starting to sink in that this is /real/, now. But placing her worries about the conditions of friends and families at the back of her mind, Kirs nods at Dona as she goes over to Dovella. "Hopefully, he'll be fine!" And trail-off to a sigh. Hopefully /everyone/ will somehow pull through.

"Fine, give us what you can," N'zgul snaps. Pae eyes him reproachfully. "We'll take someone back with us, I s'pose...'ealers we need, aye." Funnyvoice. "We've got pregnant folks as well as many injured...an' a few injured dragons as well.." Stammerstammer. "'Elp would be wond'ful."

Dona backs herself against a wall and lets out a startled yelp just before she starts to sink to the floor, eyes wide at all the goings on. Her mind becomes numb and she stares as she starts a quiet whimpering.

"Kirsyn, Ylisa," murmurs Liesana to the two Harper apprentices remaining, pointing out Dona, Dovella and Merevan. "Those children will need a hug and someone to talk to, once the Healers have cleared them. Normally, we'd take them to a Mindhealer, but today... I doubt they'll be the worst off. Harpers are morale officers. I'm going to have to help with the efforts in our Hall, but you two could do a great service by helping to comfort the children. Take them to the beach, or some place out of the chaos, and get them to talk."

Fareia takes a breath, and gently pulls on Mynd's arm, waiting for the pop that notifies her the bone is in place. Breath is let out and a splint is quickly placed on his arm. "Okay then..." Bandage on his head is checked, and since it's stopped bleeding, the healer cleans out the wound, and bandages it up. "Now then.. A collapsed staircase..." Healer quickly inspects the rest of mynd, wrinkling her nose up at the bruising around his ribs. "THat doesn't look good..."

Kurt stalks through the great doors into the courtyard.

Magen walks through the great doors into the courtyard.

Fortunately, the pleasantly plump Journeyman Clarissa is on hand and replies to Pae and N'zgul, "Good. Then I'll come with you." She calls back over her shoulder, "Kylianna! I'm taking your Apprentice to the Reaches. Wave bye-bye." She shoves Graiham off toward a table of supplies, saying, "Get together some bandages, redwort, numbweed, needlethorn..." She continues on as Graiham hastily shoves stuff into a pack and then, carrying the ungainly thing, returns. "We're ready."

Merevan simply looks around before bursting into loud sobs. "Where's mommy? I want my mommy!!" He screeches loudly, completely confused and more than a bit scared.

Keliana's face shows instant relief as the first application of numbweed brings an instantaneous cool nothingness to the throbbing arm-gash. Her eyelids relax and eventually they open to be met by Morallen's. She swallows and nods, and then after a moment mumbles that the arm is numb enough. Though she would rather request a hefty fellis dousing. She eventually averts her eyes, particularly away from her arm. A shudder snakes down her spine.

Mynd hasn't really moved much, being unconscious, though he does, finally, make a noise, a light groan as his lashes flutter a little. Looky! He lives!

Dona whimpers become sobs when Merevan starts his screeching.

"Ooh, thank you, Liesana. You know how I adore children," Kirsyn says gratefully. And the harper apprentice shifts over to Dona, first, murmuring soothing things. "Now, now. It'll be all right in the end. Would you like to come and sit with Merevan and Dovella?" she whispers in the form of a question. Step 1: Gather all the children together.

Cerulean blinks in from ::between::!

Ylisa looks over to find the children that Liesana is indicating, then nods. "Of course." Before moving, however, she turns to Fareia. "If it helps to know what happened, he was at the top of the stairs when they collapsed, so he fell quite a way but he wasn't crushed under anything." Then she follows Kirsyn over to the children.

Aerrin sighs in relief as a Journeyman appears to help her wrest the bone into place, and she wipes her hands swiftly against the front of her tunic. "/Please/ tell me we still have suture thread somewhere?" she questions, before calling to a nearby apprentice while more numbweed is slathered on. Never too much numbweed.

Dona doesn't even nod at Kirsyn but moves a bit closer. She swipes at her watery eyes and looks up at the harper.

Morallen nods, and steps away to collect one of the suture kits that's been found and rescued from the shambles of the infirmary. He returns, and settles on the cot beside Keliana again, as much for giving a little support as for ease of work. "Now, some folks find this part a little disconcerting," he cautions, threading one of the curved suture needles with a strand of catgut. "There's a reel over here, Master," he pipes up to Aerrin. "Fine grade, though. Better for surface wounds." He then returns to his patient. "Now, I want you to look at me while I work, not at your arm, OK? And why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself? I'm Senior Apprentice Morallen, by the way..." he continues to ramble as he makes his first move on the torn flesh of the wound, rendered insensitive by the numbweed.

Kirsyn coos softly, inviting the child to hole up in her arms - which means she can carry Dona to the others. Ylisa is noted, and she nods. "Err, Ylisa, could you maybe go talk to one of those? I'm trying to get them all together." The 'those' in question being Dovella and Merevan, of course.

Fareia grabs a nearby pot of numbweed, adding a nice dollop of it to Mynd's ribs, and a couple other nasty lookin' bruises. "Oh good..." The harper dissapears for a moment, then comes back with a mug of tea, placing it next to the cot for when Mynd wakes up. "Mynd? I'm Senior Apprentice Fareia. You broke an arm and hit your head. Tell me if you're dizzy or you're going to throw up, okay?" This is all said as a bandage is wrapped around Mynd's ribs,"And I think you broke a rib." Let's hope he caught all that while being half-unconcious.

Dona latches onto the kind harper and hides her face in her shoulder, though she continues to cry. She's been so brave, but now Dona's just a frightened little girl.

Liesana nods approvingly as Ylisa and Kirsyn move off, and steps a little closer to Mynd's cotside as her mentee wakes up. Crouching down beside him, she watches Fareia work on treating him, and reaches out a hand to take his uninjured one. "Don't you dare do something like this again, you hear me," she comments, her tone a little hoarse. It's the smoke in the air, honest.

Graiham and Clarissa are bundled out the door and down the (probably halfway broken) steps by one of the Reaches riders. Excitement and adventure!

Graiham strolls through the great doors into the courtyard.

Groan will turn into a vague whimper as Mynd opens his eyes fully, a somewhat glazed look given around. Ow. Pain. Pain isn't fun! Disoriented, the harper looks at Fareia, trying to piece together what was just said to him. Eh..blink. Head turns, if slowly, to look at Lies, giving the harper Master a weak smile. "..Hey Lies.." Yeah. Okay, so he's a little out of it still.

"It'll have to do," Aerrin mutters in Morallen's direction as she scoops up a reel and tosses it to her assisting Journeyman. "Stitch and bandage?" she questions before turning away and circulating again. She stops near the harpers and children, bending a bit. "Hey there... you guys ok?"

Kirsyn holds Dona close to her, continuing to murmur whatever words of comfort she can give to the child; Kirsyn has some memories of being alone, confused, and afraid. "Come on, now," she murmurs softly. "We're going to go see to your friends, now. Is that all right?" Important to ask the child, you see.

Ylisa approaches Merevan, forming her face into an encouraging smile and holding out a hand. "Well now, we can't go to Mummy just now, dear, but why don't you come & talk to me for a bit. What's your name?" She sends a grin in Dovella's direction, too.

Dona tries, really, to get herself under control and sniffles in a momentary lapse of sobs. "Mmm hmm," she nods and cries again, but more softly.

Dovella just cries and leans against the wall like a trapped animal. She looks at Merevan...mommy? Dove doesn't have a mommy she can call for. Sniffle. She cries even louder, not sure what else to do.

"MOOOOOMMMMMYYYY!" Merv screeches. He doesn't want some Harper fill-in, he wants /his/ mother and only his mother. "Where's my mommy? She doesn't have any booboos, right? I want my mommy..." He whimpers, wiping several tear streaks from his face.

Liesana, now that she's no longer in charge of anyone but herself, for the moment, finally has a bit of a letdown from the adrenal edge she's been running on since shortly after the quake. "Hello yourself," she replies to Mynd, squeezing his fingers. "You've had a pretty busy day, trying to learn how to fly without wings..."

Fareia holds out a mug to Mynd,"Think you can manage this?" A glance to Liesana, since she seems pretty close to the hurt harper,"I'm guessing he has a concussion...He'll have to stay in bed for a while for it to heal." And directed to the woozy harper,"You're going to be dizzy if you try and stand up, okay? So don't."

Kylianna gives a quick pat to a burned child, a finishing touch of the light bandage before she makes her way back to Aerrin, a little tiredness glinting in her eyes. "How many more do you think we'll have today? There's a lot of inventory and recovery of supplies left to do, I hate to think how much we've lost..."

Kurt stalks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

Ylisa attempts to wrap the screeching Merevan in a hug with one arm, while extending the other in a welcoming gesture towards Dovella. "Yes, it's all rotten, isn't it. Come and have a good cry, if you like."

Mynd chuckles quietly, not entirely..there. Oh well. Probably better that way. "Thought I'd try something new..I guess." Blinky.. Ooh..a drink. Hm. Broken arm..and the other one is imprisoned by Lies. Problem.

Dovella looks at Ylisa and sniffles before running to her. And then she's right back to bawling her little eyes out and hugging her stuffed ovine.

Kirsyn nods at Dona quietly, picking up the child in her arms to walk quietly, swaying to give a rocking motion, over towards Dovella, Merevan, and Ylisa, nodding as she scootches closer towards Dovella, as Ylisa's talking to Merevan. "Dear? Dear, come over with us. What Ylisa said - it's terrible. Just cry." Seeing the child run over to Ylisa, she grins a bit in relief, continuing to rock Dona and murmur soothing things.

Merevan shakes his head quickly, pushing away from Ylisa. "I want /MOMMY/." He yells at her, wrapping his arms around his knees, and still shaking his dirty face.

Aerrin straightens, running a blood-stained hand across her forehead to push curls backward. "Shards, I hope not many more.. we're all exhausted, and we had most hands out, so there aren't many to pick up the next shift... And who knows how the weyr is faring." Her eyes glance over the room full of makeshift beds, cots, and worktables, filled with patients and exhausted healers. "I'm afraid to even look at the infirmary.. shards, Kyli. What if our numbweed or redwort stock was hit?"

Liesana releases Mynd's hand, a little sheepish, as the Healer arrives with one of her potions. "Heh, I suppose I'd better let you drink that. Although I warn you it's better if you don't taste it too much." Liesana could really use a hug herself, right about now, but since she's got work to do, she'll settle for collapsing around her friends later on. "Take care, kiddo," she murmurs to her mentee, and then leaves him in Fareia's keep, Merevan's howls having caught her attention. "Hello there, Merevan," she introduces herself to him. "Do you remember me? Harper Liesana? I want /my/ mommy, too,"

Keliana turns back around and listens to Morallen's instructions with a slightly fearful face, and her pale face is tinged now with a slightly nauseated tone. She swallows mightily and nods, turning to look at the Healer's face and keep her eyes off of her arm. "Hi, Morallen . . ." She gulps. "Uhh, m'name's Keliana. Weaver Apprentice." She manages to say-- surprising that she can open her mouth at all. "Got tossed about in the shaking. Caught on a rock." She nods slightly and takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on Morallen's face to refrain from glancing at the wound.

Dona is closer to her peers now, and not about to look like just a child. Not her. That's the incentive she needs to get herself under control again. It takes a few breaths, but she does it. Her poor pink stuffed kitty might be held just a tad too tightly when she sniffles and pulls away from Krisyn, but not too far away. "Stop it," she glares at Merevan. "You're always acting like /such/ a baby." No matter that he really is.

Cerulean suddenly disappears ::between::!

Mynd will drink this somehow. Yes. The harper shifts, pushing himself up with one arm. Can't drink while laying down. That doesn't /work/. The mug is taken then, shakily being sipped out of.

"Well, if the Weyr needs us, they'll be quick to get us. But I think we'll all be pulling double-shifts tonight..." Kylianna glances around, the worry deepening on her expression. "I don't want to think about it until I have to. If our numbweed is decimated, then we'll just have to make do and use it sparingly. But redwort... Shards," she mutters, shaking her head. "We can't afford that. We'll just have to hope."

"That's it," Ylisa murmurs to Dovella, bending a little and spreading her arm in an invitation to a hug. Then to Lies, "Oh, you know him, Liesana? Who /is/ his mother?"

Kirsyn looks on in faint amusement - this's kidlet society at work, it would seem, but she reprimands Dona lightly. "Shh. He's young - anyone should be allowed to cry at this point. /I've/ even cried today. Let him cry." Pausing for a few moments, she starts talking once more. "What's your name? I'm Kirsyn. Apprentice at Harper." Often, talking about everyday subjects stops trauma, right? Err, hopefully.

Aerrin nods, expression plainly worried. "As much a we need the hands here... we've /got/ to sift through that infirmary and see how we're faring. We might be able to get a bit of a harvest if we do it soon, and if.. I heard crops at Tillek were wiped out. If anything hit the numbweed fields.. and the redwort..."

Merevan /is/ younger than Dona, so he can cry if he wants to. His eyes flicker up briefly to look at Liesana, and he nods tearfully. "Yeah, I want Mommy. Where is she?" He asks tentatively, wiping his face again with a dirty sleeve which does nothing to clean, merely spreads the dust and soot more.

"Keliana," repeats Morallen in a soft tenor murmur, most of his concentration settled on making sure that the stitches he's placing in the Weaver's arm are as fine as possible. Females, after all, are known to not be overly fond of really cool scars. "That's a very pretty name. I'd have to say it definitely suits its' owner. Been Weaving long?" He ties off one stitch, and starts another, repeat as necessary, and gives a wry little nod. "Aye, quite a tumble the old Hold took... I was getting jounced around with two other apprentices like we were a trio of bouncing balls."

Kurt keeps a grimy grip on Kurrin, not letting him into the hands of any of these healers but his mother. "M...m..." he stutters, the words refusing to come out of his mouth. Kurrin just bawls and bawls, scared out of his mind, even though he's in the arms of his father. Poor little guy.

Dona shakes her still perfectly immaculate curls and answers Kirsyn matter of factly "Merevan yells all the time and needs to grow up," she sounds almost like her sour ol' twin, "/I/'m Dona. And my father is The Warder here. And he'll fix everything," she says as if she means it, but there is doubt on her face.

Liesana nods to the younger Harpers, holding out her arms to give Merevan a comforting hug, should he want one. "This here is Merevan," she introduces to the others, her tone kept light and conversational. "His mother is Nanny Merenya, here at Ista. And d'you know where I think she is, Merevan?" she asks rhetorically of the little boy. "I'm sure that she's safe and busy upstairs, looking after all the /really/ little children that aren't as brave and clever as you three. And that she's probably wondering 'Where's my little Merevan gone?'."

Fareia steps away from the Harpers, nearly bumping into another, recognizing him after a moment of staring. "Master Kurt. What've you done now?" A glance around behind her,"Uh...Aerrin?" she calls over to the healer master, recalling the fact that she's handfasted to Kurt.

"They were?" Kylianna's face goes ashen and she bites her lower lip. "Shards, I don't know what we'll do if we need to resupply... We'll need to organize the apprentices quickly in the next few days, see about anything we can harvest. This'll be a lean few months if we can't... I don't want to deal with little children without enough numbweed. I won't." Though children in general frighten her. But she peers over at Kurt, taking a tentative step forward. "Are you okay?"

Dona is slowly lead outside with the other children by the ept maneauverings of the talented harpers.

Dona walks through the great doors into the courtyard.

Aerrin nods at Kylianna. "Because if we're going to have to harvest, we need to do it /soon/." Her gaze follows Kylianna's, anticipating another patient. She didn't quite anticipate such a familar patient, though, and her eyes widen in worry as she studies first Kurt, and then the screaming Kurrin. "Kurt! What happened?" Besides, y'know, the earthquakes and stuff. "Is he ok? Kurrin, love.. sweetheart... c'mere... c'mere, it's ok..." she coos as she reaches for her son.

Kurt releases his death grip on Kurrin as Aerrin's voice registers. His dark eyes finally move up to meet Aerrin's, and the trembling begins. But he doesn't move quiet yet as if judging whether or not she was real or just a figment of his imagination.

Illia walks in from the Main Hall and Ballroom.

Mynd managed to drink the..well..stuff. Shakily laying back down again, the harper stares at the ceiling, lashes drooping tiredly.

"We'll handle it, don't worry. We just need to clean up enough to have a basic inventory for what we lost the most of and /need/. Then we can organize apprentices start some harvesting. It'll be fine. Right." Kylianna will convince herself, she /will/. But Kurt is just watched, carefully, as she remains rather uncertain. Her eyes flick momentarily to look at Aerrin, then back again.

Keliana does /not/, indeed, wish to have a 'cool' scar. That would horrendously ruin her fondness for sleeveless garbs. She faintly smiles and a slight flush barely mingles with her pallor. Then she slightly nods again. "About, two turns, I'd say." Then her lips part in a very slight-- but still, it's there -- smile. He's doing a good job distracting her, at least. "Bouncing balls . . . yes, that would be a good example. But, injurable bouncing balls." Her brows tighten and she swallows, trying /not/ again to look at the gash.

Illia makes her way to the Great Hall after finding her way to the dormatory blocked and tries to take it all in.

Carrianna walks in through the great doors from the courtyard.

"Watch my face," repeats Morallen. "Or, if you really can't not look, try to focus on the stitching as an isolated thing. Like, 'Oh, hello there, some stitching's being done. But it's not /my/ arm, so I'm totally OK with this,'" He shifts his pitch to playact the supposed patient, putting in the last few stitches as he does so. "Ayep, bouncing balls. So if I'm a little odd today, you can just assume my brain's been addled," he smiles, snipping off the remainder of the catgut after neatly tying it off. "There." he announces, swabbing away the last touch of blood. "Well now, Weaver, do my stitches pass muster?" he inquires. "The catgut will dissolve as the wound heals, and I do think that scar will hardly be much to remark on at all."

Aerrin cradles Kurrin carefully, worried eyes lifting to Kurt. "Kurt? What happened? Are you hurt? Is Kurrin hurt?" The questions fly as she begins running careful hands over her son's limbs, checking.

"N...no." comes a quiet whisper. His throat is raw from inhaling so much of the ash, smoke and dust. "Kurrin is ok..." trembling, the battered Harper reaches out to hug Aerrin. "Are y-you ok?"

Illia makes her way to the only familar face she sees in the crowd, Mynd. "I see you've found a comfortable spot." she teases softly dropping to one knee by the cot. "Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" she offers hoping there is some way she can be of use.

Kylianna wanders into the Healer Crafthall.

Mynd opens his eyes all the way again. He'd been drifting. Almost. Slightly blurred vision fixes on Illia though and the harper smiles faintly. "Oh..no, I'm alright.." Sort of. o.O

Aerrin nods, breath leaving in a sigh of relief as her free arm goes tightly around Kurt. "I'm fine. Exhausted and worried, but fine." Covered in blood and sweat, too, but only the latter is her own.

Randell walks in from the hold shops area.

Kurt steps back to make sure Aerrin is in one piece. "I was worried to death that something had happened to you." lifting a grimy hand to her face to make sure she's ok, (getting more dirt on her in the process) he sighs. "Do you have time for a break?"

Illia stands by Mynd's cot for a few more moments then makes her way to the Mug.
Illia opens a door labelled The Flying Mug and walks through.

Keliana shakes her head, a blink lingering a moment longer. "I can't look. I can't. Won't." She says determined, then opens her eyes and nods to Morallen, color slowly returning to her face. She doesn't glance at her arm but instead says, "Yes, Healer, I'm sure they are perfect." She nods again and swallows. "Thank you, Morallen," She says again, much less formal and threaded with heavy gratitude. "If you're ever in need of a Weaver's services, I pledge my debt to you." She dips her head and makes a swift salute with her uninjured arm.

Aerrin glances around, eyes scanning the makeshift infirmary before shooting back the passageway to where the actual infirmary lies in near ruins. "No," she states tiredly. "But I'm taking one anyway."

Morallen smiles, and waves off the salute with a casual waggle of two fingers somewhere near his right temple. "Just doing what I've been trained to do, Keliana. Now, come back if you find yourself with any unusual amounts of pain, or if it shows signs of infection, but otherwise take care of yourself, and watch out for rocks." And, that said, the senior apprentice stands, crossing over to report to Aerrin that "Since I'm out of patients, I believe I'll join the recovery crew in the Infirmary, ma'am...? And, before she can reply, he goes to do just that.

Kurt nods, reaching up to check his upper arm, which has been leaking blood. "Let's sit down..." at last Kurrin has calmed down now that he's safe with both parents. "How many people were lost?"