Iron does not wane | A Return to Health

[SimplySeo 6999]

“What is greater than death is the Dwarvish stubbornness to resist it.” - Ancient Dwarven Proverb.

 

It was not the pain that bothered Jorvin the most, it was the smell.

 

Pain was familiar to Jorvin Starbreaker, not in the sense of one full of self-loathing or melancholy, but in the sense of a man who has spent years at a time on campaign. In the aspect of pain, Jorvin’s senses had seemed to dull with the years, that is not to claim he did not feel pain, only that he was unwilling to let it hinder him.

 

No, what bothered him most wasn’t the blood, it was the...Festering of it all, the uncleanliness, the pus of infection, and the festering of his wound. In truth, the severity of the wound did not dawn on him until he smelled it, and until he felt that sickness in his veins, the rot. He’d rather have his guts spilled upon the floor than be killed from the inside, it was no fitting death for a soldier, or a king.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t have among the finest doctors in Arcas mind you, but doctors could only do so much for a wound once the infection had already begun to swell, Jorvin blamed the accursed and rusted weapons of the Neverborn, no mortal weapon would have stricken him like this, with a torn, jagged wound that struggled to heal properly, and a festering that caused him to fall into a feverish state.

 

At least that’s what he told himself. The mighty Jorvin Starbreaker couldn’t be felled by a mere infection after all.

 

And with the fever came ill thoughts that had always plagued him so. Dark thoughts, thoughts of paranoia and worst of all, weakness. The strongest thing he could do then was admit he was in no position to lead, not without his wounds tended to. Slowly but surely, Jorvin Starbreaker arose from his bed, wiping sweat from his brow as he shifted his arm, wincing as pain in his side flared. The infection had subsided now, gods knowing it had taken long enough...His senses had not yet fully returned to him. But he could walk, he could think, that was enough.

 

With the help of a walking stick at his beside, Jorvin moved to the nearby desk, he looked around, noting his papers in disarray, clearly him and Dhaen had different ways of organizing things. The thought of her brought a faint smile to his face, and just a tinge of shame. No doubt she was worried, and he should’ve never shouldered the burden upon her. It went well enough though, he supposed.

 

Easing himself into his seat, Jorvin winced once more, grumbling several curses under his breath. He reached for pockets he didn’t have, wearing only his trousers and the many bandages under his arm, being half-dead and delirious made one care little for being well dressed. Instead, he fished a quill from the desk, and ink-well beside it. Finally, leaning forward, Jorvin set the pen to paper. 

 

Back to work.

 

 

FROM THE OFFICE OF THE GRAND KING

ᚠᚱᛟᛗᛏᚺᛖᛟᚠᚠᛁᚲᛖᛟᚠᚷᚱᚨᚾᛞᚴᛁᚾᚷ

10th of Malin's Welcome, 1795

 

Sickness gives one much time to dwell on things, the good and the bad, and namely what one should have done differently. To be left without respite to such thoughts is a miserable existence, little wonder why lesser beings would lose the will to live in such circumstances. But to surrender oneself to such thoughts is Undwarvish. Such weaknesses best be left to soft surface-dwellers.

 

My wounds remain, but my fever has subsided, and I no longer stand a poor night’s sleep away from entry into Khaz’A’Dentrumm, as such, I henceforth reassume the duties set upon me as Grand King of Urguan’s Folk, and declare a formal end to the regency.

 

With my return to duty I intend to resume governance with renewed vigor. Too often of late have I allowed my thoughts muddled with worry, in these times our folk require a king of action, and it is such a King I swore to be. Once I have readjusted, there are several projects I intend to announce, and changes to administration and foreign policy I wish to announce.

 

I apologize for my absence, and thank you all for your prayers.

 

I remain your Grand King and loyal servant. 

Jorvin Kazrinsson of the Clan of Starbreaker.

[Elite Snipes 3563]

Bakir Ireheart smiles hearing the KING returned. He lifted his axe in the air as he celebrated Jorvins good health "Welcome back Jorvin, and I have a feeling you are coming back much Stronger than before." 

[Guest]

Kairn Ithelanen smiled, as honor had long since returned to the Dwarves with the arrival of their past two Kings. As he sat alone in his desk chair, he considered the history of the past as it weighed against his quill, before he set to writing down histories of bygone eras. 

[Hiebe 2493]

Dwain frowns as he looks to his important stack of Doogle Docs. He begins to burn them.

[Dhaelena 589]

Dhaen Grandaxe, brief Lord Regent but now Grand Merchant once more, gently waters a pot of purple blooms at the foot of an Anbellic altar. She straightens up and says a quick prayer before retreating upwards to the palace. Before approaching the main bedroom suite, Dhaen gathers a handful of towels and a fresh flask of ale in her arms. Finally, she bustles onward, pushing through the closed door to find her bedridden partner distinctly not in bed and actively writing at a desk. She drops the towels and ale in surprise and bows her head in reverence, for Anbella had answered her prayers.

 

"De King 'as awoken. Narvak oz Jorvin Starbreaker!"