Difference between revisions of "Logs:Another Herbalist"

Infirmary, High Reaches Weyr

Two sets of double doors, one from the the inner caverns and a recently built set from the dragon infirmary, lead into the unnaturally hushed human infirmary. Despite fastidious cleaning, the scent of redwort and numbweed has long since soaked into every smooth-carved surface, along with other, subtler medicinal smells. Pristinely made cots are lined up against the walls; most of them are left open to view, but some in the back are surrounded by curtains for delicate procedures or critical patients.

About halfway between the two entrances is the counter for the healers on duty; it guards the entrance to the storage rooms just beyond, their shelves and cabinets lined with meticulously labeled bottles, boxes, jars, and even vats of supplies. The Weyrhealer's office is also here, along with another side room for mixing up medicines and the like.

It was a cool but clear day that brought Kessian from the Healer Hall, a blue dragon flight leaving him in the capable hands of an assistant to the headwoman. Rather than unpack, he requests direction to the infirmary that he might declare himself to Delifa; redirected instead to a junior journeyman for the introductory tour, Kessian stands with one hand clasped protectively to the opposite shoulder as an exchange of names is given. If he's conscious of his unkempt appearance, well, he might be excused for all he was a-dragonback only a few hours prior. "- studied under Biorna, last turn," he's saying. "Doing work with aconite powder."

Madilla has been full of apologies: some incident with Delifa's daughter, the more senior Journeyman called away. But she's the friendly type, and now, as they wander through the main area of the infirmary, seems content enough to chat. "Biorna!" she says, sounding-- not /impressed/, as such, but not that far from it. "I've heard about some of the work she's been doing. It's very interesting. I suppose you'll be most interested in seeing the workroom, but this is the main part of the infirmary. We all take shifts on the counter, and taking patients. I suppose it's not as big as some, but it's a good set up, really."

Kessian doesn't appear to be terribly dismayed, complacent to shadow Madilla through the main parts. An oblique look, hovering over upturned lips, and he says of Biorna: "She's very knowledgeable. I've notes, if you'd like to go over them. If," he adds thoughtfully, "you can decipher the handwriting." He motions for her to preceed him into the workroom, and indeed his interest is piqued, for all that he gazes passively around the larger section of the infirmary. "Small, maybe, but tidy," he says appreciately. On shifts: "I'll have to speak with Delifa for my schedule?" A question, not a statement.

"Oh!" Madilla seems undeniably delighted by the prospect of looking at those notes, and nods her enthusiasm vigorously. "I'd like that. I think-- one can never stop learning, right? The more we can learn the better." She steps past the entranceway and into the workroom, which is less spacious again, enough so that the glance she turns back towards Kessian is apologetic. "I'm afraid it's going to get quite tight in here... though I suppose having different schedules will help." She pauses a beat, then adds, "Yes, Delifa will get you there. Have you... did you see the building work in the bowl, on your way in?" She refers to a section of the bowl down by the lake, worked primarily by convicts.

Taken aback maybe by that enthusiasm, Kessian narrows his eyes in a look of appraisal. Despite the neutral expression, his tone is light as he answers, "Absolutely. Especially considering new studies, research. Good to keep up with the times as it is." For her rueful words, he simply twitches his head and smiles slightly. "I'll do my best to avoid stepping on anyone's toes. Where are the essentials kept?" He'll name a few; herbs, mostly, but that's not surprising considering his specialty. "Best to figure out where everything is before I'm put on shift. The building?" Kessian considers. "I might have, to think of it. Why?"

Madilla, though, seems genuine enough: the expression on her face is one of pure interest. She flushes, though, under Kessian's appraisal, and tilts her face away to look at the clean bench instead. "I think so," she agrees, matching his lightness, now, no doubt deliberately. "It's too easy to only think about our own work, otherwise, and not build on what everyone is doing." The essentials are pointed out methodically: though small, the space is well organised, everything with a proper place, supplies all in order. By way of explanation, she continues, "There's been talk that it'll all be opened into a new craft complex-- workrooms and specialised areas. Perhaps even new accommodation. I've been hoping, and I know Delifa has, too, that we might be able to get a better workroom."

When Madilla flushes, Kessian flickers a smile, ducks his head: he's faintly contrite when he next speaks. "I do mean it. I'll bring the notes in tomorrow, if you've the time to go over them then. They're detailed, but fascinating. And one section discusses aconite in a liniment that honestly I just can't make heads or tails of, so if you wanted to compare notes afterward..." His eyes brighten; he speaks quicker, and while he follows Madilla's indications around the room, his attention finally comes back to rest on her once again, his enthusiasm spilling over to the new topic, "Oh - do they know when it's meant to be complete? I could certainly see the benefit of more room. Specialized areas, too. Hmm."

Madilla's enthusiasm returns with a brilliant smile as Kessian continues, and she nods confirmation rapidly, sending stray curls escaped from her up-pin bobbing around her face. "That would be wonderful," she tells him, firmly. "It'll be nice to have another herbalist around... I do miss that. I mean, there's Delifa, of course, but she has to focus a lot on the administration." She leans up against the bench as she speaks, arms unconsciously sliding down towards her mid-section, where the observant might notice the slight curve of early pregnancy. "There have been some delays," she explains. "Instabilities. I'm not sure. Soon, I hope. I think it would be a wonderful thing for the weyr, having that kind of facility. You'd attract so many more crafters, I'd think, if you could promise them more specialised working spaces."

If Kessian laughs, it's only a puff of amusement quickly faded, and it's certainly not directed at Madilla's enthusiasm. Okay, maybe a little. But his lips curl; he inclines a nod toward her. "I'll be glad to exchange recipes and anecdotes with you, and I'm looking forward to, perhaps, picking up a trick or two from Delifa." It might come out as a bit formal, but genuine, if his level gaze is any indication. Kess likely takes note, a lowered flick of his eyes, but says nothing of that tell-tale bump; instead: "Delays." Dubious. "Instabilities? Nothing serious, I hope. A space of our own, certainly, though I could see it more benefiting the more concrete crafts. Woodwork, smith, the like. Dried herbs take up so little space." A joke?

Even if aimed at her, Madilla doesn't seem to mind: her expression remains utterly cheerful. "Delifa has a lot of knowledge to share," she agrees, loyalty and fondness obvious in her expression and tone, but genuine respect, too. "I'm sure we'll all be helpful to each other." There's more seriousness in her tone as she explains, lifting one hand to draw a stray curl away from her eyes, "There was talk about intentional sabotage after one of the collapses, but that was... months ago. Someone died. One of the convicts." She has to take a breath before she can add, more firmly, "Oh, I'm sure that's true. We're not a space-needing craft-- but it never hurts. We'll see, I suppose. What can be offered, in the end." Joke or not, she takes it more or less at face value, apparently.

"Several healers speak quite fondly of Delifa at the Hall," Kessian acknowledges, a brush of knuckles across his chin as he nods again. "Have you been back recently?" To the Hall, he means; with a spark, but a glance, of amusement, he says: "Not that it has changed much at all, except that the older I get the more foolhardy apprentices it seems there are." That faint merriment fades shortly, however, and he hooks two fingers into the loop of his belt, rocking back on his heels. "A shame. But - convict?" And, on a lighter note: "Certainly. Especially with yet another Journeyman moving in, though I can assure you I'll try to take up as little space as possible."

Mention of apprentices makes Madilla laugh, and she nods. "The ones here aren't too bad, but they occasionally take some handling. One of ours Impressed in the last clutch, but he's got permission to pick up his studies again, once he's graduated." She answers the question then, easily, "I spent nine weeks at the Hall last summer-- as in, last turn, not the summer most recently passed. I participated in the advanced training programme. It was-- strange, mostly, to be back. A worthwhile experience, though." She's talking about the advanced training session for selected promising senior apprentices, a relatively new programme. "We have convicts doing most of the work in the bowl. It's been-- some of them are quite rough, but others-- well." She presses her lips back into a smile, concluding, "I'm sure we'll manage. It'll be nice to have another set of hands, at least."

Kessian remarks dryly, "I'm sure we'll manage, they and I. Congratulations," for the Impressed healer, accompanied by a lift of brows and a dip of his head. "The Weyr allows a trade cross-over like that? Interesting." He draws this last word out long, but there's no sarcasm. He goes on to note, of the training program, "Yes, I knew a few taking part!" He'll name them, in case Madilla recognized them. "It did seem a valuable experience, though I have not yet been offered the honour." Shoulders lift in an unconcerned shrug, fall as he says, "Rough. I'll keep an eye out, thank you." For the warning, it seems. Then, he says, "For the tour as well. It was a pleasure, Madilla, but I should be getting to unpacking. I'm sure I will be seeing you."

There's certainly recognition for those names, and a bright smile, too: "Oh, of course!" She'd probably say more, but she breaks off from it instead, to agree, "Of course - I shan't keep you. I'll look forward to getting to see those notes of yours tomorrow, but in the meantime... good luck with the unpacking. Have a pleasant evening."