Takeout Delivery

Log Info

• Title: Delivering Takeout
• Emitter: Warrick
• Characters: Warrick, Pirkko
• Place: Soldier's Defense
• Time: January 14th, 2023
• Summary: Pirkko and Cynthia deliver stew from the TarRaCe to a sickly Warrick, him fighting a fever from an infected bug bite. Pirkko checks him over, and they get more acquainted while his daughter inhales the food. Warrick shares a bit of his past, but is left to rest with a promise from the gobber to bring some books.

Soldier's Defense, Evening

It's after dinner for the patients in the Defense, most of the activity having slowed down. There's none too many folks here today, thankfully. At least, far less than when the undead were ravaging everything in sight.

Upon one of the many side rooms rests a few cots, all unoccupied save for one. A middle aged human man lays in one, skin pallid with a fresh bandage wrapped around his neck and shoulder. He's resting, though he shivers, the sweat on his brew evident that he has a low-grade fever. The window is open to allow for a chilly breeze to waft in; aiding in battling the fever.

Cynthia, the teenager, bobs through the hospital with a basket of takeout food in hand. "And that's why I like going to the Cheerful Corvid so much, it has such nice snacks!" she grins, talking to a short figure next to her. Eventually, she makes it to the room, peering in to spy on her father. "... heeeeeey daaaad. IIII'm baaack! I brought a friend!"

Warrick stirs. "... huh...?"

Pirkko just happens to be that friend, her voice croaking in her high tone. "They have good cookies. Heard the drinks are great." she reasons about the previous talk, her eyes going to Warrick once her stirs in his bed. She'd let Cynthia prattle and talk on, listening and offering her slow commentary.

"Have they really seen to you?" Pirkko asks of Warrick, raising a small hand to wiggle some fingers. "How are you, Warrick? Cynthia said you were sick. Came to see if you needed anything." some of the things she helped carry set aside on a tray table. "Found Cynthia ordering you something good from the TarRaCe."

Seeing as he had proper guests, Warrick grunts as he sits up a bit to rest against the wall. His eyes crack open, them a tinge blood shot. ".. oh. Pirkko. Good... evening," he hazards a guess, glancing to the window. It's supplemented with a wave, his left arm sporting a Serriel holy symbol tattooed on his upper arm with some scars marring the artwork.

"Oh my gawds, I love their cookies!" Cynthia giggles, her bobbing in and helping put things on the tray table as well, her getting everything out of the basket and working on it.

"Yes they... have," he sighs, rubbing his face. "I... appreciate the gesture. Something nasty bit me on a job and it's infected is all. Not the first time this has happened." A glance to Cynthia. "... what did you get? Please don't be spicy."

"It's not!" Cynthia quickly defends. "Beef stew! /I/ got spicy for me!"

GAME: Pirkko rolls heal: (3)+9: 12

Pirkko hrms and nods, moving to place a cool and clammy hand on Warrick's brow. "Fever, sweats." she says, tsking at the situation. "Yeah, it'll take a few days. Did they say other things?" she asks, having crossed closely into the man's space, but she doesn't stay there prolonged, just to do her assessment. Which was quick, and a bit lazy since he'd actually been seen.

"Cynthia was right thoughtful at your condition. So don't worry." letting the teen dole out the food as she takes a step back. "And sometimes the spice helps, but not for this." she says with a wide grin. "Did they mention how long you should stay in bed?"

Warrick doesn't have the energy to pull back, him quite used to being patched up seemingly. He's clammy as well, but blisteringly warm to the touch. "Guh... yeah that... sounds about right," he looks to Prikko. "Just that it was a bad bite. Had enough salve put on it at this rate that it might drown."

"Booooo," Cynthia jeers at the poor joke, her filling a bowl and sliding over to her dad to offer it to him. "Awh, I'd love for him to get some spice!"

"Please no," Warrick lamely pleads, taking the bowl and resting it on his lap. "A couple more days, they said. Fever's close to breaking, I think. Good to see you once more, though I wish it were under different circumstances."r

"Circumstances like these don't matter." Pirkko says with a wave of her small hand. "I would of come and checked on any I have met. It is rude to be able to help, but not." she reasons, her manners calm as she moves to find a seat to drag over. A bit of wood on wood, or tile. Whatever the floor is made of. She scrapes the chair with a squeak before sitting. "If it doesn't break soon, or you get worse. Call the nurse, or the healers. I'll be back tomorrow too."

"If that is okay. I feel health is as vital as water, and should be looked after."

Warrick raises a brow. "Rude to be capable of helping, but not. You a healer of some sort?" he guesses. There's a slight wince from the chair being dragged, but he gets over it. He hazards a bite, stealing a glance to his daughter before sighing in relief at the taste and eating more.

Cynthia is an incarnation of the world eater, and is inhaling her spicy stew in an unholy manner. Best leave the teen be for now.

"... kind of you to check beck in. I'll be sure to call if it gets worse. Been doing this for a while, so I can swallow my pride and ask for help."

"Cleric of Rada. Storm, or current. Some nonsense. Father Maldova was never strict on the specifics." Pirkko admits. "Storm touched, and economist. Healing comes with maintaining a sound workforce." she explains, pausing with an awkward and large grin. "Happy people do better."

"And, that'd be today's lesson." Pirkko muses, her laugh coming with some excess rasps, a hoarseness. "Cynthia mentioned you switched work. Was curious as to why." an eye cast to the teen having her meal, another smile creeping. "Plan to get bit lots?"

Warrick clicks his tongue. "Ah. I see. That is good to hear. Rada beings much to Alexandria," Warrick muses, then chuckles weakly. "They do indeed do better. Morale is a heavy factor in a lot of daily things."

The question makes him scratch at his scarred left arm. "Ah. Was part of the Watch for... a little over fifteen years," he answers slowly. "Did enough time in it. City let me go. Do adventuring work now."

Through a mouthful of spicy stew, Cynthia mentions, "He hates it." Big gulp.

Warrick rolls his eyes at his daughter. "I liked being in the guard. No, I don't want to get bit more. That situation was... a mess. I doffed my armor to help with labor. Then a fight broke out. Didn't have much protection."

"Hah, the city is foolish. Experience is always needed." Pirkko says quickly, shifting in her seat as an eye flicks over Warrick once more. It's different. Like one inspects cargo. "What this one is asking, is does Warrick wish to continue this work. Despite the pains." her tone having an impartial quality to it.

"I am forced at times to adventure. For different reasons here and there." Pirkko says, looking to her bag, and taking it up. "I also heal, and do real work. You may hate your circumstance of change, but you are not going to suddenly be lowly, or foolish. All sorts adventure. Just like all sorts commit crime, and sin," a little of her upbringing creeping. "That does not mean you are, or adopt those things."

"Now, I will leave you to rest. Because I hope to find you at my back sometime. I'd take that experience. Any day. On any adventure." Pirkko says, smiling. "I'll come visit again. I have a book you should read." Oh no, here it comes. "It's about... well." catching herself. "I thought if you're sick, a book might help."

A glance is shot to Cynthia, her grin flashing teeth. "It's adventures, but of a tradesman." seeming to like the cheap books that sit below the Crimson Pen, often ignored.

Warrick sighs. "It's... despite the experience, it's probably for the best," he says vaguely. The gobbo's exam yields that between the man's sunken eyes, the fresh scars on his arm, and mottling of nicks and scrapes that have scarred over the years, he's seen his fair share of what the world has to offer. "I do," he answers without question. "The city gave me much, I still feel as if it my duty to serve it."

He listens to Pirkko. Actively. "I see. And I understand as such. These changes take time, being whatever it that may come. It is not the first time with such drastic changes I've had to deal with."

The man sips on his stew a bit, but lowers the bowl to look at Pirkko. "... likewise, I hope that you can learn something, and I pray that I can keep you safe to do your job," he nods in solidarity. "A book? I'll take any reading I can get. I am bored here."

Cynthia has... eaten everything! She's a menace! "Ooooh, lemme read it when you're done, dad!"

The man can't help but crack a smile at that. "Yeah yeah," he waves Cynthia off before he looks to the gobber once more. "Very well. I'll eat and get some rest. Thank you for escorting Cinny back here, I appreciate it. May Serriel keep your peace, and may Rada give clear waters."

"No no, I wasn't telling one to 'get over it'. I was 'assessing'." Pirkko muses. "I like what I see. Level head. Good kid, and of a grounded nature." an almost excited tone purring in her throat. Edging, but contained well. "It would balance some things I see in the field." she assures.

Hopping from her seat, Pirkko takes up her bag, looking back to Cynthia. "I have a few books I can bring. We'll see." she muses, slinging the strap over her small, but broad shoulders. Broad for a goblin. "Clear waters are good, but so is the storm. Serriel may keep the peace, and Rada shall let it thrive and flow." excusing herself with a small dip and turn. "Warrick, Cynthia. Good days."

Warrick sighs. "Yeah. Some folks on the field get... zealous and showy. Lose sight of what's important." Though, her assessment earns just a curious flick of a glance. "Thanks, I suppose. A lot of the wild gets tempered with age."

Cynthia bounces on the spot. "Yessss. I'll tear through them!"

"Figuratively."

"Figuratively!"

The father-daughter duo look at each other, then laugh, the former weaker about it. "Have a nice night, Pirkko. Keep your nose clean."

-End Scene-