The Corps's Headquarters

“Well, it seems you have chosen.”

Elenwe decided to set the mood, and turned off the lights where the medics were sitting. She sat down cross legged on the table, and brought out a pair of thick candles. She lit them, and began the story of her people, the smoke taking the shape of her narrative, as she weaved a prestidigitation- minor magical tricks that even apprentices could do.

“We... are the Vardos Zarovia. We are travellers- Performers, musicians, merchants, dancers, artisans and mystics. We are many things; some call us thieves, frauds and temptresses. Witches and demon worshippers, out in the world stealing the hearts and coin purses of its men... Others simply call us gypsies, a troupe of people with no home, no city wishing to accept us. What is true is that we are all women, our ancestors hailing from the wilds of the Kumungu, becoming nomadic for reasons forgotten.”

The smoked took the form of the caravan and its many myriad members, then the forms of people from the cities who shunned them. Then, the smoke materialized to a great circle of feminine figures dancing about a great statue of a winged, tailed woman.

“We are many things. We know our reasons for departing our home was due to hardship, and for a time it seemed we would eventually be plucked apart by bandits and slavers. Then one fateful night, our patron the Scarlet goddess, who was said to have come into our presence, and bestowed upon each of us magic. Our dancers became warriors beyond compare, and our herbalists and mystics became witches and seers. So long as we remained her devotees, and remain unmarried, she would protect us forever more.”

The smoke illustrated the narrative as usual, and then transformed to the image of a young lady departing the caravan, bidding her family farewell.

“The Caravan does not stay in one place for long, always on the move, in search of a place to call our own... but there are precious few places like that, and always, we move on. When a trouper is of age, she leaves for a time, sometimes never to return, but most often they do- with money, with resources, with new tales- or a new member.”

The smoke forms a young lady with the above things expressed in metaphors, save for the one carrying a newborn infant.

“The Caravan’s members, thus, each have a tale to share, to add to our long oral history, and to enrich the tapestries of our caravans... and lives. Tell me then, what is your tale?”

The candles go out, and Elenwe ends the tale. She helps herself off the table and turns the lights back on, awaiting their reaction.

To express her disappointment, Elenwe skipped her normally straight bodied poise to slouch and puff her cheeks. What sort of organization makes its members hide their tales? She straightened up once more, stretching and yawning, slowly spinning in place once.

“I do not understand why that would be so... sigh; I have much to learn of the ways of others it seems.” She resigned it to the gulf of cultural difference, knowing of many in her travels but only encountering them for herself for the first time.

She looked at a few of them who laughed, and deigned to answer as the story-tellers of the Caravan would. “Well, it is called a story for a reason. People will believe only what they wish to believe, and each person believes differently from others- some even adding their story to ours. For instance, most men wish to see the naked group dancing under the midnight moon, but that tale does not even originate from our orators...” She said with a wink. “I shall retire for now then, there is little value in sharing tales with ones I do not know.”

She hummed a light tune as she headed towards her room, the pausing. She turned her gaze towards the hospital wings for a moment, and others would find the staring strange for good reasons. Suddenly, she dashed off without explanation.

She passed through her room, picked up her backpack, and headed over to the patient wing, and entered a room where there was a lone male Yordle patient in severe pain. The little creature had tried to reach the button to call a nurse, but because of his spasms he fell to the ground, unable to call for aid.

Spooks quickly pushed the button, and in the minute it took them to respond, she had helped the furry folk onto his bed and given him his –correct- medicine out of several pill containers on his table. She had also given him gnarled sweet wood to prevent him from biting his tongue.

The yordle gasped in relief. “Thank you, young lady... ergonomics would’ve been... the death of me.”

“...It is no trouble, elder.” Elenwe said, looking up at the nurses who came in to check out the elderly Yordle. He chittered in Yordle Piltish at being assigned to a human-sized ward. He sniffed in Elenwe’s direction, noticing something in her pack.

“My dear... is that a... winter-sangrea flower and almond healing poultice?”

“Yes it is elder.” She responded, apparently older people being due respect from the young witch.

“My dear, I have not had such a drink since I was a lad in Bandle... It would settle my heart to drink something from home. Might I?” he asked, his tired eyes closed but able to track the potion by scent.

Elenwe uncapped the flask, and offered him a small cup of it, once he had chittered the nurses to make let him drink it. Elenwe simply smiled as the Yordle lapped it up out of his cup like a feline creature.

After the talk with their leader, Elenwe went straight to her room.

Spooks took all her possessions from the guest room to the more Spartan- er, Rakkorian staff room. Tired, she bid her hosts goodnight and went to sleep quickly, huddled up into a fetal position and almost purring happily.

She slipped quickly into sleep, and instead of dreaming her retrocognitive powers took effect, allowing her to lucidly recall all she knew of medicine and caring for the ill, bringing them to the surface and enhancing her mundane knowledge.

The next morning came and Elenwe stretched like a feline- her most favourite animal of them all, and prepared herself for a new day with a dancer’s calisthenics. Then she went about to wear the basic dress of her wardrobe, minus the entertainer’s effects. She seemed less attention grabbing now with the simpler blouse and high-slit skirt, though still quite distracting with her unusual nature and sense of fashion. She joins the medics for their breakfast.

“So! Where do we begin today? I am ready and eager to help here, or wherever we might be needed.”

Spooks bowed to Heffron and went on her way to the reception desk.

“Hello, good morning! I am here to begin my... training?” Spooks asked the woman present.

“Why good morning too, miss... Traneth...?” The nurse responded, turning around. She was an unremarkable woman, wearing glasses and of medium build, fair in complexion and hair having thin red highlights.

“Tray’neth. But please, call me Elenwe... or Spooks.” Spooks cleared up, her name’s pronunciation coming with her accent. She offered her nickname, one that was easy to remember. “And might I know your name?”

“Well...” The nurse was taken aback a bit. Spooks’s politeness was quite refreshing. “Nurse Kiara Parker, I’ll be your supervisor today, Spooks.” She gave a light chuckle; such an amusing name for a pretty girl.

“I am glad to meet your acquaintance, miss Kiara.” She came over to embrace her and give her a kiss on the cheek, drawing another hearty laugh from Nurse Parker.

“My, aren’t you the polite one. So, first, we need to change your attire; can’t have distractions in a hospital. Then we’ll start with...” They head off to begin the ability assessment and training.

Given her prior experiences, Elenwe was assigned to overseeing pregnant women, helping them prepare for delivery. The women were a bit apprehensive at the unusual stretching and herbal medicine at first, but warmed up to the young lady who knew what she was doing... and the local pharmacists have cleared most of her potions, seeing that they were the real deal.

Elenwe was already in standard uniform, her hair bundled up, seeing off another woman when the two medics approached her. She habitually undid her hair and fixed it up again, used to having it freer. She looked at them and simply asked, “Yes? What did you need of me today?”

Elenwe nodded and returned to her patients, helping deliver a baby that day.

She then proceeded to Captain winter's office, changed into her casual wear once more, still getting accustomed the uniform and hairstyle.

"Hello. You said you needed more for something?"