#c: huilang

[ravermeer]

Healing Hands

@nckrus Location: Mosmait Time: Early evening

The brawl had lasted less than 5 rotations of the middle wheel of Mosmait’s timekeep tower. It had just begun to rain ice water but even that had not been enough to stop or slow the violent anger two schools of thought had built up against each other. Rohan had walked in to purchase warm drink when the verbal brawl turned physical. Emotion had pulled in everyone in the cozy tavern outside into the rain, leaving Rohan as their only spectator behind a window. He did not join in nor did he step in, instead he reverently witnessed their conviction made physical even though he understood both sides had already lost. The first thing Mosmait had taught him was that a battle of thought could not be won with the strength of the body. 

Before the fifth rotation of the timekeep wheel the flamed discussion turned worried and reproachful as one man lay half conscious. “Dear customer! Help me get him to the healers,” said a woman behind the counter while her husband told the brawlers to go home or get along lest they get banned from the tavern. 

Rohan found himself half-carrying a half-conscious man through the streets after the woman had pointed in a general direction saying, “it’s the green door on the other side of the street down that way, you have my gratitude good sir, this cousin of mine will be the end of my shop! He ought to go back to his books!” before closing the tavern door. When someone in Kalgar asked for help with a body, it was usually followed with a symbol of non-monetary gratitude like food, as a way of wishing the helper long life. Mosmait was a different place to expect someone to aid without reverence or pay. It told him even the most scholar places could be just as backwards as the ignorant. 

The healer’s door opened to the two drenched men under the rain and Rohan told them of what happened. Though he was not wearing the colors of Brittania it was clear he was not mosmaiti due to his build and manner. “Pointless fighting,” he said, “anger took over and they lost sight of what they were fighting for. The lady at the tavern called him a cousin, but I do not know their names,” he said hoping the healers would recognize the people because the injured man was in no condition to deal with the price of his healing.