Of Churches, Cameras, and Curing Disease - RPLOG
Participants
Date
25/2/480
Log
A flick of the tails, as Flora rests herself in the small library of House Longtail, flipping through a few of the books, with various bits of paperwork stacked out before her. Something of a contract intended for the church. Ese of a Camera for the purpose of documenting disease, with the photo-slides and their development offered at cost... A couple of things are still left blank, first and foremost who actually -pays- that cost... The healers requesting the service, the church, or some mixture of both. And of course, she's got a camera set up on a tripod, to be used for a small demo...
"Who did you say we were meeting, Dearie?" a little blackbear, round as she is tall and dressed in priestly robes asks her scruffy companion as they come to the front gates of the Longtail Manor, "It is not often I'm called on to go visiting fine, fancy places like this!" Memna is a dumpy little bear with thick spectacles, but she is very good at her job of overseeing healers in the Church infirmery.
Krove, for his part, is quivering like the last leaf on the tree before winter conquers it. "Lady Longtail. She said she would aid in providing cameras to document plague and sickness." Even with the protection of the Church, there was no guarantee that he would survive this. The Professor had not been impressed with much of what the engineer had said, and that was enough to have the little physic shaking. This was House Longtail.
This wasn't any neutral ground for negotiation--it was a place where she could lay out demands, and anyone else would have to accept. This couldn't go well, as he continues shivering in the grandiose private manor.
There's a small security-checkpoint at the gate, where any weapons the beings have with them are taken for storage, before a guard guides them further into the manor, offering some small commentary. "Stick close, Lady doesn't like people wandering along the factory. Guards wear blue uniforms, scholars white robes, and the craftsbeings wear brown," the short weasel offers, guiding the two along. "Y'know, she could've left me to rot in that cell out in silvervein, waiting to be killed by Wolff for snitching about his raids. Gave me a job, instead. Ain't going back to that life," he notes, a small, if hesitant smile on his lips. "'s a shame about Myles, but he -was- a bit of a jerk," he offers with a small sigh. "Not that either of you know what I'm talking 'bout, probably. Either case... The library," he offers, as he guides the priest and the healer through the room, where a couple of beings from all ranks and species are flipping through some books... Seems the lady doesn't mind sharing her small collection. Most of the shelves are empty, certainly, but that doesn't stop the beings from perusing what's actually there...
Memna nods pleasantly as first Krove, then the guard make their explanations. "That is nice, Love," she says, peering about myopically at the small, painfully empty library. "Now, where is this Highlady we are supposed to meet? I DO hope she has put on tea for us, I would kill for a cuppa right about now."
He shivers at the uniforms everywhere. The guard conscripted from prisons, doubtless more violent than one who was used to a lawful means of employ.... even criminals would have authority over him in this den. "I respect your decisions, priestess, but were it all the same to me, in and out is the best way to be. We're in her home, and she has absolute authority. I don't like it."
A smile from the weasel, and he gestures at the Lady seated at the table in the back. "You wanted a drink, miss? I'll see if I can get something from the mess-hall. Something for the sir, too? And the lady's been nothing but nice to me, so far. She doesn't do a lot of demanding, other than expecting her employees to be on time and do their job. I admit it surprised she's not grilled me once for attacking her convoys. Can't say I've heard of a lot of other Nobles that'd offer you a job after that. Let alone be willing to teach you to read," the weasel offers, waiting for Krove's answer, before skittering off towards the mess-hall.
Flora soon kicks a pair of chairs out of the way, sliding the two contracts over towards the specific seats, for the two beings to read over. "Anything Flora missed, or? Do be honest, yes."
Memna looks disappointed in something and frowns just a little as she takes her seat. Her frown deepens more at the sight of all that paperwork. "Forgive me, Love," she says, addressing Flora, "But what is all of this meant for? I thought you were offering us the use of one of your picture contraptions?"
Hired actors, showcasing her virtue, or actual 'reformed' bandits. Teaching reading to those in her employ... it had to be a lie. She was too busy delivering all of her notes to the Church as backup storage. Too busy inventing, too busy having political influence in places as far off as Hilrock. There weren't enough hours in the day to do it all.
It was a farce. And so, he begins scanning the contracts. "Are doctors supposed to go to the Church after finding a sufferer, and begin queuing up for a session? Or is the priesthood expected to be out in the slums, actively pursuing this endeavor?" He shakes his head quickly. "Moving the ailing is dangerous for them. I doubt my colleagues would feel any better about it." And he still found everything just a bit too convenient. Everything saying how virtuous and perfect Lady Longtail was--how hard she tried to say that she could do no wrong. He wasn't allowed to form his own opinion, here--perhaps that was by design. He was supposed to just nod and smile, and not be honest. Better than being honest and dead.
"Yes. For tracking disease and for diagnosis. Not for general use. Flora prefers having the rules known and agreed-upon in advance," Flora notes. "And there are costs that need to be covered. Flora doesn't like talking money, but it has to be done."
"Whichever is easier. If it's easier to bring the patient to the Church, and safe for those within, Flora suggests bringing the patient to the Church. If it's better to do a house-visit, a house-visit is better, yes," Flora offers, as she waits for the Weasel to return with a glass of juice and a pot of hot tea, along with two cups, just in case Krove might change his mind.
Memna shakes her head and pushes the paperwork aside. "Very well, dear," she says, "But it can wait until after tea." She let's Tym pour for her. "Thank you, Love, now you and your friends just run along while we speak with the Highlady, hmm?" She makes little shooing motions and then turns her attention back to the matter at hand. "Forgive me, Dearie. I am old, and sometimes it takes a little trying to get domething to stick in my brain. Why don't you tell me what, precisely, we are meant to be discussing today? I fear that I am a little muddled on the subject."
Krove had given his understanding of the situation, and reiterating his views would do little. He scoots the cup away, and continues reading the papers closely. "I don't suppose there's any sort of guild for physicians? I recognize most of the ilk are traveling, staying put isn't much our style. But it's going to be hard to ask for a surgeon to provide information when there's no means of disseminating this information to the doctors themselves." Stick with the basic questions, work on the logistics--and importantly, above all, consider the needs of the doctors. They were the ones who would be straddling life and death with each new visit.
Flora smilse and nods. "Mister Krove had a good idea. Use the photographs to identify and diagnose different kinds of diseases. Take photos, color in if necessary, and keep a report on the diseases they match. That way, if someone winds up having a disease previously cured or encountered, there's documentation, yes. Any doctor that shows up can request the information, yes," Flora offers. "Mister Krove can probably explain the idea better," she offers after a short pause, taking a sip from her drink. "There's a small guild for journeymen... But nothing specific to just medicine, no."
"Forgive me if I seem closed-minded, both of you," Memna says, sipping at her tea, "But I fail to see why the Church ought to sign any sort of agreement, Highlady. We have many, many ledgers and tomes on diseases of all sorts, and documentation of their symptoms and treatments, many of them from the Creators themselves! All of this is readily available to all healers who study with us and our aid is given as liberally as we can manage." She sips from her team then removes her thick spectacles to wipe in the folds of her robes. "Of course, the various academies of Promise have made their own forays, but it is none of my business how people choose to seek treatment." The little black bear turns to pat Krove fondly, "No need to be dramatic dear. We get more cases of sniffles than anything else."
Reiterating his thoughts would be rather superfluous, but the physic does his best. "Seems a bit premature to be drafting contracts before knowing the details..." But complaining would get no progress made. "Priestess Memna, the idea is to get what new illnesses which spring up documented quickly. Trace down the bad air, before it spreads to the population. I remember reading about not one, but two different red plagues which ravaged your own city."
Disease was cruel, in that it never stopped its efforts to ruin lives. "Identifying a pustule from a hand-drawn picture gives basic assistance, but if there were accurate, quick evidence? We could spot new diseases and be able to trace what treatments are effective before it becomes a critical affair."
That being said, including the Church did seem a bit... extravagant. "My original comment was merely showing that Lady Longtail can use her inventions, such as the 'camera', for more than just idle vanity. Documenting plague was one such use."
"The red plague is a problem on the whole of Promise, as far as Flora knows. As for the 'outbreak' in Sweetwater and Shralesta a couple of years back, turned out to be a poison spread by those worshipping the corrupt spirits. That said, the point is a valid one, yes. A photo offers a more realistic image. Coupled with the right information, new outbreaks can be dealt with quicker, yes," Flora offers with a smile on her lips. "Most of the Creator's knowledge is about diseases known to creators, and about generic treatment, yes. Not about the diseases inherrent to Promise, yes."
"Children!" Memna sighs, "What is it you think that we have been doing for the last 400 years? Our Creators, in their wisdom, advised us to keep meticulous documents, and we have. I think it is a lovely idea, and I certainly wish you all the best. I am certain that the Church will gladly purchase any useful images from you, Highlady, but I have no intention of signing your agreements. Now, if you could be convinced to actually SELL us one of your devices, I can promise you we would make good use of it."
Were Krove more licentious and less prudish, he could kiss Memna for what she said. It was exactly his thinking--this idea of hiding it all behind closed doors, of essentially vassalizing the Church, and making them patrons of the Longtail estate, it had never sat well with him. Let alone, the thought of being beholden to the Longtails himself.
Trying to restrict the flow of information was the opposite of his intention. "Doubtless, priestess! I speak--I mean, I've been trained, but never endowed or ordained." He tries not to be overbearing, and the chiding tone of the priestess has him cowed. "I just hoped to help with the efforts. There are so few I meet who regularly attend church, I just... even if they've lost their way, or perhaps because they've lost their way...just trying to help." The medical sciences were no replacement for the clergy--just a patch to fill in temporarily.
"The high priestess already said yes," Flora offers, her tails flicking lightly behind her, her ears twitching lightly, before she gestures at the priestess. "See? Flora said Flora was doing the church a service, not the other way around. The High Priestess herself requested copies of LongTech's work," the she-cat offers, her tails still twitching lightly.
"Perhaps miss Memna would prefer offering the contract to the High Priestess herself, yes?"
"Then the High Priestess is welcome to come and do this her own self, thank you very much, my dear," Memna says, but not unkindly, "I will remind you that the Church is not beholden to any one but the good beings of Promise. Perhaps her holiness has forgotten that in her lofty station. I am old, Highlady, and I am set in my ways. I just do not see what you expect from me. If you like, we can hire one of your people to come and take photographs, money will be exchanged for services and that was good enough for my mother and her mother and that is good enough for me."
The relief floods over Krove as he very comfortably puts all papers back on the shelves. Sense and wisdom always came from the Creators' servants, in his experience. It was well that there were such who could handle such terrifying affairs. He sighs and tries to keep them neat, tidy, and far, far away from his own person. He might have had the crux of the idea, but this was not by design.
He was just a frustrated sawbones from Cliffside, who disliked the current state of affairs, and felt powerless to do anything about it. "Thank you, Priestess Memna. Thank you so much." He was feeling very small in this place, at this time, and not having to outthink a shrewd noblewoman was making life much, much simpler.
"Perhaps. Provided the Church will ensure the health of the representatives LongTech sends. Flora has no intention of sending beings out to get ill. The Church has the means to prevent disease spreading to its members, LongTech does not own such Creator-given tools. Flora will write up an alternative draft then, yes? An agreement not directly binding, but ensuring the health of whatever employees are willing to do the work. Does that sound agreeable?" she offers, as she looks towards Krove, simply raising a brow, before shrugging lightly. "Flora does not care who makes the pictures, so long as they do not risk their own health, and the Camera is merely used for the good of beings. Like Flora told mister Krove, Flora considers it a worthwhile idea. This will, of course, be slightly more expensive, because the being Flora hires for the purpose needs to be paid, yes, and Flora has no intention of underpaying beings, no."
Memna sighs and shakes her head. "You know, Reginald was the same way," she says, "Always had to be in control. Terribly dashing, though. But yes, go ahead and write your agreements, but her Holiness can deal with it. I am sure I have enough on my plate just keeping the good beings of Firmament stitched together and going about their daily lives. I don't remember you being half so picky when I was acting as your midwife! None of this contract silliness when there is real work to be done!" The round little bear slurps the last of her tea and sighs. "I am sorry, Dearie, I don't mean to be an old stick in the mud about this. It's just it all seems so silly to my old brain. Anyone who comes and uses your device for us will be amply taken care of."
Krove recognized that he was the outsider. He was a foreigner, he was unrelated to the inner workings of the church--especially here in Firmament--and he was feeling quite justified in many of the thoughts he had entertained about Flora--especially after the little history lesson about the Longtails a few days back. The water deer was composed, but very much in awe of the old priestess. It reminded him of how he had wanted to be in the clergy. To be someone like her; just helping and doing what needed to be done.
He had obviously fallen far short of the mark. "Simplest thing would be to provide the materials at cost to the professionals needing them, if you were interested in charity. Journeymen might fall far, far short of priests, but we're already being exposed to the disease, in any case." Simplify, simplify, simplify. "Of course, the proliferation of your technology could threaten your profit margins--especially with your 'limited resources'. I appreciate that it doesn't mean that much to you, Lady Longtail." Get a degree of snark in there. "Perhaps, Priestess, she should be left to her documents. I should be grateful for the chance to help you in whatever your labors may entail, today."
"Flora has a good relationship with the Church. Flora cannot say the same of every single journeyman. And while Flora does not want to assume the worst, assuming the best, unfortunately, doesn't work either."
"If Mister Krove has nothing else to say?" she offers, her tail flicking, perhaps a bit agitatedly...
"Keep a civil tongue, Mister Krove," Memna says, "The Highlady has her problems too. I wish that I had known what this was all about before I treked all the way over here. I would have saved everyone some trouble." The little black bear climbs out of her chair and gives a polite curtsey to Flora. "Thank you for the tea, Highlady Flora."
That first sentence from the priestess rather resonates like crashing thunder, judging by how he reacted. "I apologize, Priestess Memna. I am at fault. Please--please accept my apology. I ought not have troubled you." There were much more important matters to attend to, when compared to the formalities of administration. The ministry might not function without administration, but their primary goal was still in ministering to the needs of the beings of Firmament. "If there is a way I can compensate you, let me know." As far as Highlady Flora's words--he tries not to even respond; but he was supposed to be civil. "Nothing more, Highlady Flora."
"Any day, miss Memna. Although an appointment would be a good idea, yes. Flora isn't always home, after all. Lots of business to attend to. Mister Tym will see miss Memna and Mister Krove out again, yes," she offers, as she gestures for the being currently seemingly struggling to read something. "After that, he can get back to his reading, yes. Flora has more work to tend to, unfortunately. Research to review, construction to oversee, yes."
"What ARE you going on about, young man?" Memna asks as she turns to go, "Nothing at all to worry about. Now come along, work to be done."
Actor or thug, it didn't matter. Krove would quietly follow Memna along, and try to make up for his boorish behavior. Apologizing to the one he directly insulted would take some doing, but for now, he could at least be quiet and follow along.
