Step one: Grind the elfroot into a paste...

[fleurdesel]

WHO: Adelaide & Whoever wants to attend
WHAT: Potions & Poultices 101
WHEN: Harvestmere 28, morning
WHERE: The Garden
NOTES: As advertised the day before.



Set Up

As promised Adelaide had a large kettle brewing of a simple black tea. It wasn't much but it was hot and it was bitter- sugar, honey, and cream weren't exactly in ample supply but there were a few jars of donated jam and honeycomb donated by the kitchens and patients. Her own supplies for potions and poultices are laid out on a makeshift table. To one side her apprentices finish writing out and folding instructions- basic recipes for healing poultices, salves, potions- and the principles behind simple healing spells. If you could throw a fireball, you could heal a cut. Anything more complicated took greater study but the basics? Should be well known.

Behind and looking somewhat uncomfortable but, well, present, Bruce stood minding the bundles of herbs, handing out what was needed. While not a mage the surgeon was trustworthy and, honestly, needed to get out more.

During

It was simple enough. Adelaide went over the information on the cards handed out by her apprentices, demonstrated the proper techniques for grinding, mixing, layering the poultices and brewing for potions. They did not have as many kits for the brewing as they did for creating poultices, but they should have enough for those with an interest to learn or to help. After going through those Adealide would motion the mages that wished to learn more of basic healing off to one side to walk them through the theory, using some of the not quite so injured patients to demonstrate. Volunteers, all- she was careful in her instruction and thorough above all else- the last thing they needed was anyone getting injured from an attempt at healing.

After

Packing everything away in the afternoon to return to her tent, Adelaide was available for further questions, commentary- or criticism if something seemed poorly done, presumptuous, or overly curt.

Comments

set up

[aceso]

Christine hurries around, helping to set up what they need for the demonstrations. When she pauses to survey the area, she spots Bruce looking entirely out of place and annoyed to even be there. She lets out a huff and heads over to him.

"Is there any way you could act more at ease, ser? We don't want to scare off anyone by having the surgeon frown at them." In many ways, Christine resembles Adelaide, just ten years behind. Her hair is lighter, but the accent is Orlesian, she's a mage, and she has no time for idiots. Not that she's thinking of Bruce as an idiot right now, but just in general. One would look at Christine and think perhaps Adelaide has always been her mentor, but the two women only met recently, since Adelaide was at the White Tower in Val Voyeaux and Christine in Montsimmard's Tower. It's merely one of those coincidences of fate, and Bruce must count himself lucky to benefit from their presence, right?

[amygdalae]

Bruce wasn't annoyed to be here, per se, but he did feel incredibly out of place. Although it was hard to not frown when the alternative was probably grimacing or something equally terrible.

He blinks at the mage that walks up to him, taking a moment before he more or less forces out a small, polite smile that is hopefully somewhat reassuring. "I'll try. But I can't promise you anything." He's really not one for sudden crowds like this, and especially without any warning beforehand. If he were somebody else entirely he might have just walked the hell out of this whole thing. Sure he was a surgeon, but most of the people here were mages and they'd probably rely more on their magic than potions or poultices anyway.

[aceso]

That really isn't the answer she's looking for. She wants results, not lukewarm assurances. And from the look on her face, he can probably tell she isn't satisfied.

"What made you wish to be a surgeon?" she asks out of the blue. But to her, it makes perfect sense to ask. Surgeons have to talk to their patients and make them feel at ease. At the moment, she's not sure if that's something Bruce actually does. He seems more likely to put people on edge, because if he's uncomfortable or tense, that will make the patient think their condition is far worse than it is.

[amygdalae]

He can totally tell, which, well--doesn't exactly make the situation any better. This is why he didn't like having to talk with people when he couldn't help it.

The question is unexpected, but he supposes there's no way around it. Bruce manages not to make a face before he responds to the question. "I do it because there's people who need help, and because there are enough people already suffering all over." And of course, more privately, to make up for all the deaths that he had caused by his own hand. It was all that he could do.

[aceso]

"I'm not sure seeing your sour expression lessens their suffering," she says glibly. Compassion for the ill comes easily to Christine, and she shows it too. Her patients know she cares. In fact, the only time she really glares at a patient is when they're insisting they're fine while they're bleeding everywhere.

"Come now," she continues, letting out a sigh. "Have some tea and try to relax. Everyone will be paying attention to Lady Adelaide, not you. They are more likely to notice you if you stand there stiff as a board, frowning at everyone."

[amygdalae]

Bruce is rarely this sour, honestly. He's good at his job (or at least remarkably decent) and he knows how to treat his patients well. Its really the crowd and his general lack of preparation that's making him look as such.

"...I'll try my best," is all that he can say eventually. Bruce is really trying, but he's never been good with large crowds of people at any length - speaking to the masses, attending to each and every one of them? Really not his thing.

[aceso]

It's as good as she'll get, isn't it? With a firm nod, she answers, "Good," and moves to arrange several bottles on a table so they're straight. First impressions are important, and she doesn't want people to think they aren't organized. If anything, Christine over organizes.

[amygdalae]

There's a blink when she starts to arrange the bottles, because its not as if he couldn't do it, and she must be busy with her own things.

"I, um--" he starts, hesitant once more. "You can just leave that to me."

[aceso]

Her eyes lift and she considers. She really just likes to handle things on her own, because then she knows it's being done right. But if Bruce keeps himself busy, it might serve as a distraction.

"All right. Thank you."

[amygdalae]

"Don't mention it." He's sure she has other more important matters to attend, and Bruce himself could certainly use with the distraction. Something to help calm his nerves better before having to start dealing with the crowds of people that will come in soon enough.

With that said Bruce is quick to take over what she had been doing, starting to arrange the bottles himself, picking up where she left off.