(cw: alcohol, cancer, fallen london typical horrors)
Ask about the Scorched Physician
Does the good doctor mean to sound so... ominous?
GO
"'Ominous'? Well..."
The Eloquent Oneirotect laughs. "My apologies," they say. "I forget, sometimes, that most Londoners don't keep as colorful company as I do.
"In any case, Lukas certainly doesn't mean to come across that way. He's..." The Oneirotect pauses. Their fingers drum upon the table as they search for the right words. "He has a great amount on his mind, most of the time, and he forgets that most aren't as versed in the secrets of the Neath as he is. Keeps skipping ahead of everyone else, you might say. But he means well. He has always meant well, for as long as I've known him.
"If you can match his pace, or get him to slow down, I imagine you'll find him much easier to talk to. Both are easier said than done, though. For different reasons."
- An occurrence! Your "Learning About The Scorched Physician" Quality is now 1!
Talk to the Scorched Physician about his work.
You remember what the Eloquent Oneirotect told you. The wine here is good, strong stuff. Surely the doctor's mind must have calmed enough for the two of you to have a proper conversation.
- You unlocked this with Learning About The Scorched Physician
- A modest challenge
Your Watchful quality gives you a 64% chance of success.
GO
"Most of my patients are terribly mundane. Stabbed to death, and the like. But some..."
"Sometimes, people come to the Neath in hopes of finding a cure for their condition. Desperate, desperate people. I treated one such person. Part of her body had gone malignant, you see, and was overtaking the rest of her. Had the physicians found it sooner, before it had metastasized, she might have had a chance. As it was, the only care they could provide to her was palliative. Postponing the inevitable.
"But in the Neath? Curing such a condition is not trivial, but... options open." He leans forward. His eyes are aglow. "I could have engineered a whisper-toxin that would seek out and eliminate only the malignant parts of her, down to the individual cell. Or I could have applied the Shapeling Arts to change them back into ordinary flesh. I could, hypothetically, have changed the rest of her body to be as vigorous - though such a feat is beyond my current ability, and most, of course, would consider that approach extreme.
"In the end, I chose to coax the malignant flesh away from the places it had settled, and I gathered it under the skin of her left arm." He indicates the spot on his own, just above the crook of his elbow. "And then I made an incision, and I coaxed it away from her body entirely. Some rest and a generous application of tonics, and she made a full recovery."
He leans back. "But such miracles come with a price. Raf and I warned her. She would in all likelihood never be able to walk under the sun again. She would live - but only if she stayed in the Neath." His expression darkens. "She didn't listen. Her family wrote me. For a week, she was thriving. Happy. And then, while taking a stroll under the summer sun, she dropped dead."
His smile is as bitter and empty as the space between stars.
"Such acts of beneficence," he says, "are forbidden under celestial law."
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Okay @himochi wanted to fail that last challenge so: