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Old 07-10-2003, 08:29 AM   #4
Mithadan
Spirit of Mist
 
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 2,897
Mithadan has been trapped in the Barrow!
Sting

Ward Three of the Houses of Bettifordeth consists of a large room in which are a number of patient beds as well as several private rooms for the more affluent ill. Over its door is a large plaque which reads, "Physical Injuries (minor and noncontagious)". Here, the various and sundry citizens of Minus Teeth who have been injured in minor mishaps recuperate under the learned care of the healers.

In a private room, the Lady Bawdy rested in her bed. Her husband, Vonbulowdil, had died several years before in an unfortunate poisoning accident and the Lady had inherited his lands and estate. An avid equestrian, the Lady had injured herself while attempting a...unique...feat of riding. Now, she was recuperating in the Third Ward whose ministrations were far less luxurious and attentive than her station normally mandated.

On this fine morning, a tall, dark figure was sweeping the ward. Clad all in black save only for his bright red thigh-high boots and a powder blue frilly apron, Grrralph shambled about sweeping the previous evening's detritus into a dust pan. By and large, the patients ignored the now-familiar figure though a few cringed when he stopped by a bed to fluff a pillow or straighten a blanket.

From the back of the ward a bell rang in one of the private rooms. Grrralph paused in his task before answering with a long drawn out wail which rose and fell like the cry of some dark and lonely creature. Then he shambled off towards the rear of the long room, ignoring the many patients who had ducked under their covers and shook in reaction to his polite answer to the summons. Setting down his broom and dustpan, he knocked at the door of Lady Bawdy's room causing its hinges to groan in protest. Then he entered.

Lady Bawdy was propped up in her bed upon a pile of silk pillows. At her bedside was a pile of magazines, mostly relating to interior design. On her lap was a book entitled "The Aristocratic Household; How to Govern Your Servants Without Leaving Marks". "Ah," she said. "Grrralph, dear. Would you rearrange my pillows?" Grrralph helped her sit up while he fluffed and piled her pillows behind her back. As he did so, she grasped his arm and ran a hand over his shoulder. "You are strong, aren't you? And so...large. I do so love a man in armor," she murmured throatily.

Grrralph stood when he was finished. "Anything elssse Misss?" he said in a thin voice. She looked at him appraisingly. "Yes, could you change my bed pan?" He nodded. "Yesss, Madam." She peeled back her blanket to reveal a skimpy silk gown and rolled to the side as he worked. She smiled and allowed her gown to slip from her shoulder. "I could use a man like you at my home," she purred. "You have such exotic eyes. So red and bright. You really should show your face more." She reached up to push back his hood.

The wail which followed shook the windows and stopped the clock in the lobby...

--------------------

"Grrralph," said Doctor Malpracdil. "Your service here has been valuable and appreciated."

Grrralph was sitting in a chair at the doctor's desk. His knees were nearly at his chest and the sheath of his sword stuck out from under his black robes. He shifted uncomfortably causing the chair to creak under his weight. "Thank you Doctor," he replied.

"But you've been here, what, seven years?" continued the Doctor. "You came seeking treatment for your...condition, but chose to stay and help and that's been appreciated. However, recently your behavior has been a bit erratic..."

"I'm sorry about Lady Bawdy," Grrralph interjected. The Doctor chuckled. "Her?" he said. "She gives new meaning to the phrase 'Royal Pain'. I kind of enjoyed finding her hanging by her ankles from the curtainrod. But there was that incident last week where you tied a patient to his bed..."

"He kept trying to walk without crutches," pointed out Grrralph.

"He was here to see a dentist," responded the Doctor. "And before that you stuffed a roll of bandages into a patient's mouth..."

"He was rude. He called me 'Lurch'"

"Uh, yes," continued Malpracdil. "You've never taken a vacation and work seven days a week. Maybe its time for a break. You need to get out more. Maybe that will help your...condition. I'm giving you two months paid leave so that you can get some fresh air and get away from here for a while. Find something to do or someplace to go. I bet that you'll feel better when you come back."

"Yesss Ssssir," answered Grrralph. He stood and headed for the door, ducking carefully as he left.

"And don't forget to take your medicine..." called out the doctor after him.

[ July 10, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]
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