Typically, Amos wouldn't give two shits about getting himself healed. He'd go home, drink and let himself heal naturally. But, he'd taken a pretty good beating during this whole bloodsport thing and he's in pain enough that he actually seeks out someone to help him.
He'd heard Anduin's name from around the area, people talking about a magical healer and while Amos was proud and didn't typically ask for help, he doesn't want to be laid up or vulnerable in this town.
So, he seeks the guy out, holding his side and looking battered and bruise. There's no limbs falling off or gaping wounds but he still doesn't look great.
He understands, in certain situations, that it is unavoidable. Sometimes, you must fight for what you believe in. Sometimes, you have to fight to right a wrong. To free people -- there are many reasons.
Whatever is going on in this place, Anduin doesn't think it's for any greater good. People are just... fighting.
Still, he can offer what skill he has to ease people's pain. Whatever is urging people into this is strong enough that it's even leaving him restless, so he can hardly blame people for following along. He's spent enough time healing people that his name and general appearance have been recognised -- and Anduin is an easy enough person to spot. Blond hair in a ponytail, young, light build, well spoken and in a long blue coat with gold trim. He's sat down, considering taking the lamp teleport back to his house as he digs through his bag when Amos approaches him. Anduin looks up, blinks grey-blue eyes at him then frowns slowly as he takes in the man's state.
"I'm a healer, if that's what you're asking. How badly hurt are you?"
People aren't always honest, but it's worth trying to ask. It's better to know what you're healing, if you can. He loops his bag around himself, pushes to his feet and begins pooling golden light into one hand.
Is that a valid answer? It's true, he's not going to die. He's sore and he's a little battered but he'd make it even if he didn't go and find a healer. He shrugs a shoulder and keeps his distance for a moment.
"How do you heal?"
He's here, that's the first step, but he doesn't know if he's going to let himself use this guy's skills depending on how it works.
That's a fair question. Anduin nods in understanding, and holds his hand out so Amos can see the Light gathering in his hand.
"I'm a priest of the Light. The Light is a primal force, people use it for many things. I'm trained to use it to heal. Light magic feels warm, at first, then it sears wounds closed -- repairs damage. It can heal broken bones, although it is wise to make sure they are set properly first. When the worst of the damage is healed, it will fade and take any remaining pain or stiffness with it. For some people it leaves a feeling of warmth and comfort, although I think the important part most likely is that it should leave you whole and ask nothing of you."
Which, he imagines, is one of the concerns. Some magic can take as much as it gives. Shadow magic is like that, Anduin knows, and the blood healing they do here certainly seems to be... different.
Amos hasn't ever been a religious person and he doesn't know if he should trust a priest but he's also never met a priest who's been a healer. He'd known Anna, who had been okay, but she hadn't tried to heal him either. She'd allowed him to talk and she'd been around but she hadn't pressed.
And really, Amos knows that he'd been the one to come to Anduin. So, he hadn't pressed either. He sighs and winces, nodding down at his side.
"I think I cracked a few ribs," he explains. "How much is this gonna cost me?"
"I wasn't exactly paying attention to the sounds and shit."
It was hurting enough that he thinks that there's probably something broken in there but he wasn't a doctor. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe someone just bruised his spleen.
"I'm a little bruised in a few places. But I can deal with that. Just check the ribs."
Quite fair. He takes a step forward, reaching out to gently run fingers along the lines of the other man's ribs.
"You might want to sit down," he advises gently, "it will hurt for a moment when I heal you. Better you don't give yourself another injury if you lose your footing."
Light injuries don't take much to heal, but it might be better for his dignity too than having to pick himself off the ground.
Amos makes a face at the fact that he's going to have to deal with more pain just to feel better but whatever. He can deal with it. So, he huffs a bit and then sits down, wincing and holding his side.
"Wasn't really something I wanted to do. I couldn't really fight off the urge."
Which just means this fucking city was already doing its fucking best to piss him off.
Anduin nods in understanding, lifting his hands as he lets light pool into them and circle around his feet.
"I've heard plenty of people say the same. It seems as if something in this place is causing it. The Blood Moon, perhaps. The name certainly fits."
Blood moon inspiring blood sport. Is the moon itself connected with some deity here? Anduin feels as if he should know that, but he cannot remember. He'll have to look into it.
"Take a breath," he advises gently, then pushes the spell out. The Light sweeps over Amos, searching out any injuries it can find and rushing to sear them closed. Anduin remembers well the feel of it when he had to be healed, the way it had burned as it reset all his broken bones then soothed the pain away over and over. "There," he says finally as the spell fades. "How's that?"
He moves into a crouch, reaching to tentatively check them over again.
There's an undercurrent of nerves as he let's this happen but he thinks he'd rather have this go well and heal up quickly than to wander around in pain in a new place. So, he's going to let it happen even if it sets his teeth on edge just the slightest bit.
When he's told to take a breath, he does, holding it and waiting. And whatever Anduin does, he knows something's happening even if he can't exactly explain it. There's a warmth or a light or something and he waits and waits but he knows he's not waiting long.
When the spell fades, Amos takes a breath and feels none of the ache he'd felt before. That was...pretty amazing.
"Like I didn't just get my ribs broken." So, like it worked, it seems like that.
Ah! Anduin smiles in response, letting his hands drop away and kneeling back.
"Then you should be good. Try not to get hurt again, if you can help it."
He pushes back to his feet, offers Amos a hand to help him up.
"My name is Anduin. I live in Cassandra, if you find yourself in need again. Near Disciple's Defense, if you're familiar with it."
That seemed to be the easiest landmark, so far as he can tell, and thus the easiest thing to direct people to. He could always walk out to meet people, after all.
Hell, he doesn't really know where much is outside of that place. So, the names blur together and he mostly finds things by chance. He stretches, feeling his side and marveling at how well that worked.
"I was in Deerington for a long goddamn time. Close to a year. Maybe over it. And then I went back home for a little while and I thought that was permanent but now I'm here."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i can roll with brackets or prose
He'd heard Anduin's name from around the area, people talking about a magical healer and while Amos was proud and didn't typically ask for help, he doesn't want to be laid up or vulnerable in this town.
So, he seeks the guy out, holding his side and looking battered and bruise. There's no limbs falling off or gaping wounds but he still doesn't look great.
"You the doctor?" Healer whatever.
prose works fine!
He understands, in certain situations, that it is unavoidable. Sometimes, you must fight for what you believe in. Sometimes, you have to fight to right a wrong. To free people -- there are many reasons.
Whatever is going on in this place, Anduin doesn't think it's for any greater good. People are just... fighting.
Still, he can offer what skill he has to ease people's pain. Whatever is urging people into this is strong enough that it's even leaving him restless, so he can hardly blame people for following along. He's spent enough time healing people that his name and general appearance have been recognised -- and Anduin is an easy enough person to spot. Blond hair in a ponytail, young, light build, well spoken and in a long blue coat with gold trim. He's sat down, considering taking the lamp teleport back to his house as he digs through his bag when Amos approaches him. Anduin looks up, blinks grey-blue eyes at him then frowns slowly as he takes in the man's state.
"I'm a healer, if that's what you're asking. How badly hurt are you?"
People aren't always honest, but it's worth trying to ask. It's better to know what you're healing, if you can. He loops his bag around himself, pushes to his feet and begins pooling golden light into one hand.
no subject
Is that a valid answer? It's true, he's not going to die. He's sore and he's a little battered but he'd make it even if he didn't go and find a healer. He shrugs a shoulder and keeps his distance for a moment.
"How do you heal?"
He's here, that's the first step, but he doesn't know if he's going to let himself use this guy's skills depending on how it works.
no subject
"I'm a priest of the Light. The Light is a primal force, people use it for many things. I'm trained to use it to heal. Light magic feels warm, at first, then it sears wounds closed -- repairs damage. It can heal broken bones, although it is wise to make sure they are set properly first. When the worst of the damage is healed, it will fade and take any remaining pain or stiffness with it. For some people it leaves a feeling of warmth and comfort, although I think the important part most likely is that it should leave you whole and ask nothing of you."
Which, he imagines, is one of the concerns. Some magic can take as much as it gives. Shadow magic is like that, Anduin knows, and the blood healing they do here certainly seems to be... different.
no subject
Amos hasn't ever been a religious person and he doesn't know if he should trust a priest but he's also never met a priest who's been a healer. He'd known Anna, who had been okay, but she hadn't tried to heal him either. She'd allowed him to talk and she'd been around but she hadn't pressed.
And really, Amos knows that he'd been the one to come to Anduin. So, he hadn't pressed either. He sighs and winces, nodding down at his side.
"I think I cracked a few ribs," he explains. "How much is this gonna cost me?"
no subject
He quits the spell, holds out a hand toward Amos and waits for permission. It's best, he finds, not to touch people until he's sure they are ready.
"Just to see how bad the damage is. Was there anywhere else you were hurt?"
no subject
It was hurting enough that he thinks that there's probably something broken in there but he wasn't a doctor. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe someone just bruised his spleen.
"I'm a little bruised in a few places. But I can deal with that. Just check the ribs."
no subject
"You might want to sit down," he advises gently, "it will hurt for a moment when I heal you. Better you don't give yourself another injury if you lose your footing."
Light injuries don't take much to heal, but it might be better for his dignity too than having to pick himself off the ground.
"Were you fighting in arena?"
no subject
"Wasn't really something I wanted to do. I couldn't really fight off the urge."
Which just means this fucking city was already doing its fucking best to piss him off.
no subject
"I've heard plenty of people say the same. It seems as if something in this place is causing it. The Blood Moon, perhaps. The name certainly fits."
Blood moon inspiring blood sport. Is the moon itself connected with some deity here? Anduin feels as if he should know that, but he cannot remember. He'll have to look into it.
"Take a breath," he advises gently, then pushes the spell out. The Light sweeps over Amos, searching out any injuries it can find and rushing to sear them closed. Anduin remembers well the feel of it when he had to be healed, the way it had burned as it reset all his broken bones then soothed the pain away over and over. "There," he says finally as the spell fades. "How's that?"
He moves into a crouch, reaching to tentatively check them over again.
no subject
When he's told to take a breath, he does, holding it and waiting. And whatever Anduin does, he knows something's happening even if he can't exactly explain it. There's a warmth or a light or something and he waits and waits but he knows he's not waiting long.
When the spell fades, Amos takes a breath and feels none of the ache he'd felt before. That was...pretty amazing.
"Like I didn't just get my ribs broken." So, like it worked, it seems like that.
no subject
"Then you should be good. Try not to get hurt again, if you can help it."
He pushes back to his feet, offers Amos a hand to help him up.
"My name is Anduin. I live in Cassandra, if you find yourself in need again. Near Disciple's Defense, if you're familiar with it."
That seemed to be the easiest landmark, so far as he can tell, and thus the easiest thing to direct people to. He could always walk out to meet people, after all.
"Are you --"
He hesitates, seems to reconsider.
"Have you lived here long?"
no subject
Hell, he doesn't really know where much is outside of that place. So, the names blur together and he mostly finds things by chance. He stretches, feeling his side and marveling at how well that worked.
"I was in Deerington for a long goddamn time. Close to a year. Maybe over it. And then I went back home for a little while and I thought that was permanent but now I'm here."
So, big fuck you to him, he thinks.