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."
