Mana Circuit Expert 1

23:06] Garrick was still thoroughly unconscious, a perk of the immense amount of anesthetic that had put down the fire drakan without much intervention. A steady bubble would rise and fall above his draconic snout as he huffed steadily, oblivious to the pangs of pain, surgery, and general occultic prodding that flushed about his person with violence. In truth, it was thoroughly beneficial that he was entirely out, for this would probably hurt even more if he was a awake.

As luck would have it, Arlei would find the drakan resilient as they come, no unnecessary breaks or pains coming from the surgical process.
(Garrick)
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[23:19] Arlei hit Ascalon with a warm gaze as he walked in, though she couldn't divert much attention to her beloved at the current moment, considering she had a patient on the table with an open leg.

"Tha's quite alright, Lirry!" she chimed, reaching into her bag to remove a pair of tweezers. A wash of heat rose from her fingers and passed into the metal, sterilizing them before she drained the heat back into her hand.

Leaning in closer, she jabbed the tweezers into the open wound and began to extract chunks of bone, pulling the bloody pieces out and dropping them into a little indent in the tray. Quite nasty!

Once they were out though, she took a good look at the bone. Great. The breaks were relatively even, but there were a good few of them.

With another grumble, Arlei reached into her rucksack and removed the remains of a mithril kit, rooting around inside of it for the parts she needed. It was always good to keep kit remnants on hand for something like this.

After a few moments, she got what she needed. A set of mithril bars with holes set into them at various places. Her slitted, viridian eyes examined the bones in the leg carefully, then moved back to the bars. Humming a soft song to herself, her fingers reached into the bag of pins and began to slide them in, building a 'gantry' of sorts to both guide new bone growth and support him whilst said bones were growing.

Still humming, she reached into him, aligning the gantry as carefully as she could to allow full movement. A few moments later, using newly-learned gravity magic, a bunch of pins flew into her hands. One by one, she drove the pins into his bone, through the gantry like screws, securing it tightly in place. It wasn't going to move anytime soon.

Pulling herself out of there, she removed the retractor and hemostats, letting the wound close over slightly. Her eyes squinted towards the sleeping Drakanite. He looked like a hardy man. He wouldn't need stitches for this, she could just rush it.

Holding the leg together, a thin blue flame sparked up at the edge of her finger, looking more like a blowtorch than anything. Quickly yet carefully, she ran the finger along the wound, burning it closed.

"Alright, tha's that one done. Now for the occultic energies."

Closing her eyes over, she placed a hand on the leg and let her senses delve deep into the wound, discovering little pockets of occultic energy that kept burning through the wound. Nothing major, just remnants that had somewhat faded over the time he'd been roaming around without treatment. Concentrating thoroughly, her own energies rushed through her hands and into the Drakanite, clashing voraciously against the occultic forces. They scintillated the pockets like needles, tearing them apart and dispersing them over the course of two minutes. It wasn't anything major; she'd done this multiple times before. Declans occultic cancer was the worst thing she'd had to deal with on that side of things.

Stepping backwards, she invited Ascalon to examine the patient.

"He had another injury. More serious. I'll get a new kit, you might need it~!" she chirped, blowing a kiss at him as she poofed out of the room for a few moments.

Yeah, she was ditching Garrick unto the Oscuri.
(Arlei Zanders)
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[23:22] Watched as his wife went to work, idly the man wondered what the hell had happened to this Drakan. Though he supposed they'd just gotten into a fight that was beyond them. Not all to uncommon upon Agartha.

Emerald hues lingered upon Arlei was she worked. Always impressed by her skill at mending the flesh of others. Though she'd mentioned another injury which was more serious. Considering the horrendous damages she's just healed what could be more serious?
(Ascalon Zanders)
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[23:22] {Item} You picked up Mythril Trauma Kit. Dropped by Arlei Zanders. .
[23:33] Garrick was still out cold, the realignment of his occultic, gravitically shattered bones already an immense amount of relief brought upon drakan's expression. The sickly pallour of his skin would flush just a bit more with color, the cold beads of sweats pouring down his face in a steady stream as bit by bit the structural damage was repaired by the surgical efforts of Arlei. Yet, no matter how well cleaned the leg wound was purged, regardless of how perfect the reassembly of the drakan's leg had gone, it seemed that the paleness that plagued his form did not dissipate.

Something else was wrong.

As the navy cotton coat and silvery cuirass were stripped from the fire drake's sweat soaked torso, the full extent of the smith's concealed injuries were presented to the room at large. From the center of his torso spreading out wide, black spiderwebs of scorched veins and occultic scarring danced across the entirety of the drakan's body and form. His tan skin was pale white, the black lines tracing across every inch of the drakan's flesh from the center out. There seemed to be no end to the mass of spider webbed scarring, the corrupted blood vessels actively being sapped of life essence by the excess darkness that surged through the smith's body.

Worst of all, the emerald scales that lined the drakan's form were lined with deep cracks, black flames seeming to leak from them like a sickly, molten ooze of occultic fire. Glowing hot, ever burning, and draining away at the constitution of the fire drakan bit by bit.
(Garrick)
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[00:01] Ascalon took a long look upon the Drakan's body. This was one of the more potent Occultic curses they'd ever seen. The Oscuri took their time looking across the wound as their gaze trailed from the start of the injury to it's very periphery.

Taking some time to look upon the black flames that seemed to leak from between the man's scales. It seemed that whatever had hit the man had done mostly raw damage at first. However, their appeared to be some type of fiery withering spell upon it as well.

The Oscuri didn't have an immediate answer to these issues. For a short time they'd think over the wound. Contemplating how to go about fixing the curse. If they had a connection holy magics that would have made healing the wound easier.

Though they had something that was increasingly becoming unseen upon Agartah. Raw, undiluted, reika and the skill to manipulate it upon the finest of levels. The Oscuri raised their right hand. The limb was covered in olden scars from countless battles in which it'd been the target.

Their hand began to clow as it was coated in reika. The super-charged mana twirling about their digits. Floating up to the downed warrior they'd wait for just a moment. Before planting their hand upon the epicenter of the occultic curse.

They'd grunt as they pushed a pulse of reika into the Drakan's form. The reika immediately rushed through the Drakan's mana-network. Hurtling through it like a great deluge from the point of contact. As it passed through each node of mana it'd cause said node to reset. Closing down for but a few second before re-opening.

The effect this had upon the man's mana-network was two found. The first effect would be the lingering burning sensation that'd scrub the networks clean. The Reika obliterating the foreign occultisism as it rushed through the man. Not unlike when you dumped draino in a clogged rain.

The second effect would be the sudden and intense invigoration of the man's body. The nodes freshly expanded by the rushing reika would find the man's natural mana coming through him in a great rush. Heightening the Drakan's natural healing factor. This might have the effect of waking the Drakan upon.

As their reika ran it's course they'd take a step back. The only sign of their actions was a faintly glowing palm-print upon the man's chest. Some of the web-lines closest to the palm took on a green glow as well. Those further away began to heal quickly.

"Done, not a touch of Occultism could have survived that. He might not either but..." As he spoke he'd shake his hand out the digits stiff from administering so much reika. "... It was a risk I was willing to take."
(Ascalon Zanders)
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[00:30] The fire drakan might have been lucky enough to remain unconscious throughout the whole process, but that didn't mean his body wasn't going to react to the energy of a different god pulsating through his mana circuits. As reika was flushed forth with violence into his system, Garrick would find his body wracked with agonizing pain as his own Ryujinite blessed energy surged against the influx of purging reika, the scaly smiths teeth gritting instinctively with agonizing pain as he groaned with innate, reactionary displeasure.

Node by node, the emerald energy would force its way through the nodes of corrupted circuitry that web of occultic taint had spread across his body. Searing pain agitated the surrounding nerves as, much like a cleansing flame burning away the rot with brilliant light, Ascalon's emerald energy would flush out the corruption with the mana equivalent of practical rubbing alcohol to a non-Oscuri. The burning reika surged like a raging current through the fire drakan's form, ensuring that bit by bit every ounce of remnant occultism was banished from his draconic form.

At last, the rejuvenation would come however, the cleanly soap after the scourging of darkness. The black spiderwebs would dull, the shadowy flames dissipating into the remnant cracks that spread about Garrick's scales as he bit his lip once more in half consciousness. Molten eyes steadily flickering open, the glaze that appeared to obscure their former glow seemed to at last be lifted, the glowing handprint of the Oscuri remaining with only minor agitation upon Garrick's chest.

The fire drakan would raise his head slowly, sorely, and scan his torso with a degree of curiosity. The spiderwebs no longer seemed quite so visible in the face of the green glow, and the exhausted drake would flash a toothy smile of appreciation as he nodded to Ascalon and Arlei both.

"You...have my thanks. Helluva thing, Ilyothan experiments. Pack a real punch."


(Garrick)
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[00:31] Arlei Zanders says, "--Illyothan experiments? Damn, you've had a rough time o' it."
[00:32] Ascalon Zanders asks, "The hell is an Illyothan?"
[00:32] Garrick says, "Ancient demon empire."
[00:32] Garrick says, "Reminder, don't fuck with ancient demon empires."
[00:32] Ascalon Zanders says, "Noted."
[00:33] Garrick says, "Though this bit didn't come from my own slip up."
[00:33] Arlei Zanders says, "Mm, they've got autonomous creations roaming around the spire isles."
[00:33] Garrick says, "But saving someone elses ass."
[00:33] Arlei Zanders says, "Noble goal."
[00:34] Arlei Zanders asks, "--I take it you saw?"
[00:34] Arlei leans back against the wall, sticking a smoke in her mouth. She offers one to Garrick and sparks up her own.
(Arlei Zanders)
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[00:35] Garrick would nod in appreciation to Arlei, receiving the smoke before plopping it into his lips without a thought. No better way to celebrate not being half dead than a good cigarette to kill yourself the old fashioned way.
(Garrick)
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[00:36] Garrick says, "Like the look. Hand print really centers the pattern."
[00:36] Garrick says, "Feels sorta....violency. Can't complain."