[ Sidony does not feel dressed for what appears to be a somewhat formal meeting; rather than her usual silks she's wearing her surgeons' cotton, her lips tugging down into a frown before she breathes out and steps primly into the room. She's not going to entertain the idea of feeling out of place here, not when she can tilt her head just a little and put on that noble air she is far too used to carrying on her own shoulders. Her marriage, as much as her parents may have been against it, will not do anything to dissuade her from her own bloodline.
She is proud of being Madame Rutyer all the same, no matter what complaints Byerly might have.
The materials catch her attention and her eyebrow raises before she comes over, sitting down and smoothing her fingers along the careful measure of her dress, head tilted just so. ]
Ser. [ A small smile, a bow of her head. ] A pleasure, truly.
I'm familiar with your husband, but I don't believe we've formally met. [She's a lady, regardless of what she's wearing and which scoundrel son she'd chosen to wed, and he's educated enough to know not to offer his hand.] James Flint.
[Without pause - introductions aren't really why he's fetched her up here to sit with him here, the door to the corridor left open:] I'd like your opinion on Forces' field kits. There are instances where we have people abroad without a healer, and I'd like to make certain they're as properly equipped as we can afford to be. We've had to make some adjustments since the separation with the Inquisition and what can get acquired locally in Kirkwall, but what you see before you is as close to standard as we've been able to supply.
Not yet, no. [ Though most people are familiar with Byerly in some capacity; she doesn't dwell on whether or not he has a positive opinion of him or not. Things are rocky enough as it is and she's not the type to want to try and make that worse with her own frustrations with her current situation.
At least they move onto business, which she appreciates. This she can do. Shifting forward, she begins to poke through the set of items, tilting her head for a moment and trying not to let her pinched expression betray her disappointment. It's not a great deal, considering, and she understands the limitations of Riftwatch, but all the same...
At least there is an attempt, she supposes. ]
I might suggest a vial of water, to cleanse wounds, and some poultice or paste to help fight infection. I can provide both, if you wish it.
A list of what goes into the poultice would do me better for now. Anything that isn't being grown in the garden will have to be bought elsewhere. [Which warrants putting lists and papers before Salvio.] How long will the poultice keep once it's made?
[He's pulled a scrap of paper to him, and produced a charcoal pencil for note taking.]
I can provide that. [ Even if she can give them the damn poultice, but whatever makes Flint happiest, she supposes. It seems it isn't her place to question. ] At least a month. I've not had much realm to test further than that.
Good. Once we've taken stock, I'll speak with the Provost and see if an assistant can be found to help with making it. [He glances back.] Anything at else? Anything at all.
I am sure there will be some volunteers. [ Sidony waves a hand. If not she has the time and the capacity to make more; she is more than a little adept. ] Have you considered small surgical tools? For emergencies.
[A pause. He doesn't smile, but there is some flickering trace of humor there in his face anyway. Expecting anyone to know how to do more than stitching gashes and packing punctures seems unbelievably optimistic.]
[A low murmur of assent; another note is added to the list.]
Well, this gets us started. If there isn't one already, I'd be interested in maintaining a list of standard kits - something for warm and cold weather, particularly now as we make our way to winter. But that technically lies outside my purview, so take it all with a grain of salt.
[He's been making notes as he spoke, but looks up at her now.]
It's not something that would be too terribly difficult to create. There may even be a chance to make something more suitable for serious injuries, beyond what could be carried here. Not every party ventures with a surgeon or a healer.
[ Surgeon first, healer second; she is growing more amiable to magical healing but she will never be as tolerant as she could be.
Well enough, despite the most recent of their dramas. [ Her wedding and their kidnapping, of course, but she doesn't expect a great discussion about that matter.
[He acknowledges it with a small hum, a thoughtful look passing over his face. For a very small moment, Flint studies her - clearly on the verge of proposing something -, and then he must dismiss whatever thought plagues him.]
I look forward to the list for the poultice. If there is anything else that occurs to you, feel free to append it.
[And that is that. With a twitch of his fingers, he motions her toward the door.
There is no calling her back. No instance where she arrives at the door and he says something to briefly hold her there. Oh, as a last favor Lady Rutyer, he might say but doesn't. Would you mind saying nothing of this conversation to your husband?
It would mean more were she to do it all on her own without being prompted.]
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She is proud of being Madame Rutyer all the same, no matter what complaints Byerly might have.
The materials catch her attention and her eyebrow raises before she comes over, sitting down and smoothing her fingers along the careful measure of her dress, head tilted just so. ]
Ser. [ A small smile, a bow of her head. ] A pleasure, truly.
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[Without pause - introductions aren't really why he's fetched her up here to sit with him here, the door to the corridor left open:] I'd like your opinion on Forces' field kits. There are instances where we have people abroad without a healer, and I'd like to make certain they're as properly equipped as we can afford to be. We've had to make some adjustments since the separation with the Inquisition and what can get acquired locally in Kirkwall, but what you see before you is as close to standard as we've been able to supply.
Is there anything you suggest we change?
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At least they move onto business, which she appreciates. This she can do. Shifting forward, she begins to poke through the set of items, tilting her head for a moment and trying not to let her pinched expression betray her disappointment. It's not a great deal, considering, and she understands the limitations of Riftwatch, but all the same...
At least there is an attempt, she supposes. ]
I might suggest a vial of water, to cleanse wounds, and some poultice or paste to help fight infection. I can provide both, if you wish it.
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[He's pulled a scrap of paper to him, and produced a charcoal pencil for note taking.]
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[ People get wounded often in Riftwatch. ]
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Good. Once we've taken stock, I'll speak with the Provost and see if an assistant can be found to help with making it. [He glances back.] Anything at else? Anything at all.
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An iron for cauterizing, you mean?
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Everyone in forces is expected to carry a knife which should do for most wounds, but I'll see what can be ordered for the rest.
If there is nothing beyond that, then what do you make of our quantities? Do we need two rolls of bandages, or can one be made to do?
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[ Reaching out, she trails her fingers against the bandage, thoughtful. ]
One should be enough, I imagine, for immediate medical attention. That should make things easier.
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Well, this gets us started. If there isn't one already, I'd be interested in maintaining a list of standard kits - something for warm and cold weather, particularly now as we make our way to winter. But that technically lies outside my purview, so take it all with a grain of salt.
[He's been making notes as he spoke, but looks up at her now.]
You're Nevarran, are you not?
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[ Surgeon first, healer second; she is growing more amiable to magical healing but she will never be as tolerant as she could be.
There's good reason. ]
Yes, lately of Nevarra City.
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I don't suppose they might be a reliable source of news from the city.
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The question, though, makes her sigh. ]
My brother might.
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I look forward to the list for the poultice. If there is anything else that occurs to you, feel free to append it.
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Of course. I would be more than glad to.
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[It's a joke - bone dry and self-effacing humor, but humor nonetheless.]
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[ Her lips twitch, just a little, and she gives him a proper curtsey. ]
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[And that is that. With a twitch of his fingers, he motions her toward the door.
There is no calling her back. No instance where she arrives at the door and he says something to briefly hold her there. Oh, as a last favor Lady Rutyer, he might say but doesn't. Would you mind saying nothing of this conversation to your husband?
It would mean more were she to do it all on her own without being prompted.]