[[Hypothetical Situation: one of the crew sustains an injury bad enough that can't be reversed by magic and makes them physically unable to do the work they normally would.]]
This is not as rare an occurrence as one might think. While many of the crew know basic healing magic, R'khan has yet to persuade an expert in restoration to join them permanently and relies instead on Rosie, whose knowledge lies in strictly physical surgery. Potentially severe injuries are many and varied at sea, and multiple past crew members have lost limbs or sight.The standard procedure for when this happens is for the individual to receive the compensation pay outlined in the Articles and be returned to their home port. If R'khan is particularly fond of the person (that is, any of the named crew) and if they are willing, he might offer them a position as cook, a traditional role aboard ships for sailors injured in the course of their work.Ethysil has a little experience in making basic prosthetics, based on Dwemeri designs and surviving fabricant samples from the Clockwork City. With their help, the loss of a limb need not be totally debilitating, and a few of the crew use them, but the psychological trauma often prevents his patients from returning to duty regardless, at least for a while.[Mobile tumblr prevents tagging asks, so - thank you! On a slight tangent, I've toyed with the idea of Ethysil having one or more prosthetic limbs himself, and might still use that in a plot some day.]
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☯: Who, if anyone, does your muse consider to be their best friend?
for R'khan Tia
R'khan is a pretty friendly, welcoming person. But his dedication to his training and mastering of the ways of rhalgr haven't left him a whole lot of time to socialise outside of other adherants and trainees. With whom he has close bonds.
But if he were to be honest, he would probably consider his best friend to be his master, and mentor, I'zhakke Kavi, the woman who rescued him from a more anger filled and violent path after the liberation of Gyr Abania. She's his trusted confidant and probably closest friend and ally.
Send a symbol for a headcanon about my muse!
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Prompt #8: Clamor
R’khan worked his way through the crowd. The tension was palpable, like static in the air, the chorus of voices, raising and raising with each passing moment, enough to make the tips of his ears twitch.
As the moments passed, he understood the feeling. The sparks in the very air.
Like lightning, about to strike.
A gathered mass of Ala Mhigans. Brave, every one. Yelling, pleading, casting their every deserved anger towards the line of Garlean soldiers guarding the way.
He was waiting, nervous. The bolt would come from the heavens at any moment, surely. A bolt from the destroyer himself, to rend this tension in two.
Young, and old alike. The fact only made him worry more. But it made his presence all the more important, working through the press of bodies, to keep the soldiers in sight.
The storm would not pass. Of that he was sure. The outcry was too great today. It would not fade without a strike of lighting. He grimaced.
Not without blood.
Fists clenched and unclenched, immersing himself in the voices around him. Their anger was just. Their fight worth fighting. It was easy to remind himself, why he did the things he did.
Fingers tight, creaking the leather of his gloves. A shift of the soldiers, golden eyes turning to catch the sight of slowly drawn steel.
No. The storm would not pass silently. Not while these voices cried out. He did not fight, he did not resist, to allow this to come to pass. Limbs tensed, springing him forward, ahead of the fray.
He, would be the lightning.
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