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Fifth Sin - [Action / Written]
[Something was different in Luceti. He could feel it. In truth, it was at first an unfamiliar sensation. The power that coursed through him was not one he did not fully understand. He had never claimed that power for himself, but through some divine trick, he had received it. Partially, anyway. But for as long as he held it, there seemed to be an emptiness. Like a void that needed to be filled. Whenever he spoke with that boy from the forest, that gnawing feeling was stronger. But lately that small, almost unnoticeable craving, seemed like it was split in two.
As if the final piece was finally within grasp.
But as tempting as tearing Luceti apart to find it seemed, he knew it would be foolhardy. Confident as he was in his power, his chest still ached from his wound. He was far from invulnerable. He had spent time trying to contact Nala, but her trust was not as easily obtained as the other spirits. But he was restless. He needed to focus his attentions on something. Meditating on the spirits wasn't enough.
Today he once more went without his armor, instead choosing the old and familiar black robes, the ones he wore as he studied black magic with his surrogate mothers. It was hardly from sentimentality, though. They simply offered more protection from the harsh winter weather. The chill was less likely to penetrate the bindings around his chest this way. That was his intention, anyway. Today was colder than it had been for awhile. A man of the desert was not meant for this sort of chill.
Unlike most days, Ganondorf remains in the village. He is waiting and watching for someone to appear, so he cannot wander into the forests or mountains as he often does. He spends some time in the library researching magic, later moving on to the smithy merely to browse, later to the clothing store to find something warm to protect his ears, and the general store to make a cursory look for familiar trinkets from his own world. When he grows tired of searching the shops, he goes to the bar for a stiff drink. After being in the cold so long, he needs something to dull the aching pain in his chest. While he is there, he leaves a message on the journals:]
[Locked against others from his world]
I seek to learn the healing arts. The Filial spirit known as Nala is insufficient to my needs.
((ooc: each conversation on the journal he has will be a private filter between him and the other person))
As if the final piece was finally within grasp.
But as tempting as tearing Luceti apart to find it seemed, he knew it would be foolhardy. Confident as he was in his power, his chest still ached from his wound. He was far from invulnerable. He had spent time trying to contact Nala, but her trust was not as easily obtained as the other spirits. But he was restless. He needed to focus his attentions on something. Meditating on the spirits wasn't enough.
Today he once more went without his armor, instead choosing the old and familiar black robes, the ones he wore as he studied black magic with his surrogate mothers. It was hardly from sentimentality, though. They simply offered more protection from the harsh winter weather. The chill was less likely to penetrate the bindings around his chest this way. That was his intention, anyway. Today was colder than it had been for awhile. A man of the desert was not meant for this sort of chill.
Unlike most days, Ganondorf remains in the village. He is waiting and watching for someone to appear, so he cannot wander into the forests or mountains as he often does. He spends some time in the library researching magic, later moving on to the smithy merely to browse, later to the clothing store to find something warm to protect his ears, and the general store to make a cursory look for familiar trinkets from his own world. When he grows tired of searching the shops, he goes to the bar for a stiff drink. After being in the cold so long, he needs something to dull the aching pain in his chest. While he is there, he leaves a message on the journals:]
[Locked against others from his world]
I seek to learn the healing arts. The Filial spirit known as Nala is insufficient to my needs.
((ooc: each conversation on the journal he has will be a private filter between him and the other person))
[Action]
[Action]
It is unlikely you'll have any need for your equipment.
[Action]
Can you further describe the nature of this wound? What caused it, how long ago, how it has healed, or not, since?
[Action]
[He takes a seat in a chair, opening his robe in the front. The process is slow because though he is used to the pain, he still is careful when dealing with that area. He pulls away the bindings around it, which are used only to protect it from the elements. There in his chest is a strange glowing hole. Without his armor, the skin around it is black and dry, but there seems to be no further problems outside the immediate hole itself. It continues all the way through him, even to his back.]
It is a wound that is centuries old.
[Action]
Once the shock of it passes she pulls herself into work mode, gingerly examining the edges of the wound, pulling her penlight from her coat pocket to peer at the inside edges.]
This is truly outside my area of expertise. By my knowledge of humanoid anatomy, you should not be alive.
Re: [Action]
It was a killing blow. It was by the will of the gods that I survived it. But in the time since, it has not yet closed. Yet I know I still am alive. Blood still flows through my veins and I breathe as any man does.
[Action]
As there are no torn edges to sew together, there is nothing I can do with what I know now...it is almost as if the flesh that was struck was cut from you entirely.
[Action]
[He begins the process of fastening his bindings once more. Not to keep anything in, but to keep the elements out. The winter is particularly harsh.]
You intended to search for a cure, so do not limit yourself merely to medicine. I will use whatever means necessary to restore my body.
[Action]
And search I shall. It may take some time; there is an overabundance of knowledge in the library; but the moment I find anything that seems plausible Monsieur, I shall send you a message.
[Action]
One other thing, doctor. Do not include my name on your notes. This is not an injury I wish to be known, should your information be compromised. [It's a weakspot. A significant one.]
[Action]
Of course Monsieur. [Once satisfied she closes her notebook and opens her case, pulling down a false compartment to set inside.]
[Action]
Is there anything else you need to know?
[Action]
...Perhaps the nature of the magic which caused the wound. I do not fully understand the workings of magic in general but it would be safe to assume that a cure, be it surgical, medicinal, or magical that is offered could be incompatible with whatever it is that leaves your wound in such a state. I would rather not cause an adverse reaction.
[Action]
It was by this blade that the blow was dealt. 'tis a weapon of an order of sages. One of my foes used it against me before I reclaimed it as mine. It is imbued with the power of light.
[Action]
...So you are familiar with the wounds this sword causes, just not on yourself.
[Action]
[So he doesn't think he's undead. Even if that would seem the case.]
[Action]
[Action]
[Action]
[Action]
You have my thanks, Lady Leblanc.
[Action]