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 Post subject: Tariq ibn Rashid
PostPosted: Wed Jul 31, 2013 2:38 pm 
Caenyr Citizen
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Joined: Wed Jul 31, 2013 12:54 pm
Posts: 50
GSID: Shadowdemon_86
Character name: Tariq ibn Rashid
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Age: 36
Class: Mystic Theurge
Domain: Master of Healing
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Deity: Jaerik

Tariq stands tall and broad-shouldered which is indicative of someone of good breeding. His skin is lightly tanned, characteristic of someone from Goldhaven, and his eyes and hair is similarly dark. He wears a short, elegant beard, well-trimmed.
He usually wears an elegant set of garments, stylish yet practical in the field. A traveler's cloak is typically slung over his shoulder.

Greetings, dear reader.
Many years ago, I found it wise to keep accounts on all that you see and do, insights for future generations or for yourself. Truly, the human memory is not infinite in its capacity and a good book helps to record the knowledge which you wish to remember. My last book is, regrettably, filled, so I now start a new one. In the coming years, perhaps this book shall be read by my descendants, students or mayhap even myself in old age, wishing to recall the events of my youth. As I will assume you to be a new reader, I will introduce myself: My name is Tariq ibn Rashid, second son of Rashid bin Hassan of Goldhaven. I am a doctor by trade, a seeker of knowledge by choice and a wielder of powers arcane and divine by providence.
This is my tale.

In Goldhaven, nobility is not like in other lands of Etaria. It is not an honourable family line or breeding that determine your title, it is the gold in your purse. I belong to the House of Ashad, so named after my great grandfather. He was a prominent merchant, who built a wealth of riches from spices, herbs and oils, things most desirable outside Goldhaven. His noble title was but a result of his wealth, and though our house cannot compare to the great houses that rule Goldhaven, we are well off and can want for nothing. My father had three sons and two daughters. I was the second eldest, and as such not expected to inherit the family business, but still finding a "respectable" trade that would reflect well on my family.
My father was of the old-fashioned style. Providing for his children and their education was a father's duty, he said, but once we were educated men, we could expect no stipends. He explained that he would always be there to catch us if we fell, but that we would need to provide for ourselves first and foremost, as grown men.
Seeing how spoiled some of the nobility both inside and outside Goldhaven is, I cannot find my father to be anything but correct.

While my elder brother studied trade and economics, my younger brother dedicated himself to the arts, becoming a skilled painter. I, however, pondered for a while before studying medicine. Some years ago, my youngest sister had caught a disease spreading in the city, having an almost total mortality rate. My father had spared no expense and hired the best doctor that he could find, and for five days, he fought the disease with potions and tonics, learning and skill. In the end, the doctor saved the life of my little sister, and I could not help but stand in awe of the miracles that such men worked with their medicines and oils. It was a respected profession, the saving of lives.
Sometime during that education, I encountered my god, Jaerik. No, this is not one of these stories. I must disappoint you, dear reader, if you expect prophetic visions, celestials singing to me from above or Jaerik appearing in my dreams. He was a subtle inspiration, the god of knowledge. At times when I sought the answer to some question, pondered for hours, and yet could not find the answer. Then, in a quiet moment of rest, inspiration struck and I suddenly realized what I had been missing. It was like he was teasing me, showing me a small portion of the knowledge that I was seeking, yet always leaving room for more. In fact, I cannot tell when I started worshipping him, perhaps gradually, or perhaps I had followed him all along?
What I did feel was that to me, the profession of the doctor was the purest example of Jaerik's teachings, knowledge being used to save lives. You needed no spells or divine gifts, just the knowledge and the means to use it. I could think of no better profession.

In time, I graduated with honours. It was a great day, all of my family was there as I spoke the oath that most doctors swear by. My father was proud, though he tried not to show it. I decided that I wanted to practice my skills more abroad, perhaps travel, see and learn more of the world. I talked to my father of my plans, and he smiled.
"Tariq, all men feel a wanderlust at some time in their lives. You stretch your legs, strike out on your own away from your father's house and then settle down when you have become older. Do travel, if it is your desire, but remember to visit your family from time to time, eh?"
I promised to return every few years or so, to catch up and tell of my travels. And so, I was off.

One could say I was lucky, after a fashion. In Tendril, the war raged and there were too few healers and too many wounded on either side. I had no loyalties to either cause, so I offered my services. Now, people may raise an eyebrow at this, given the talk about the Legion. But all in all, the soldiers of the Legion are like most soldiers - young men, wanting to serve their homeland, loyal to their ruler and to their superiors. The superiors I might have some choice words to say about, but I am far too polite for that.
When your men are bleeding out, however, few officers will refuse a travelling doctor with a modest fee.
I think Tendril is where I actually started to practice...magic. I had always tried to make do with my natural skills alone, but sometimes it was not enough. I recall this young legionary, shattered bones in three places, bleeding from a dozen wounds in addition to the concussion. I had too few arms, too little time, and worked like a man possessed, bandaging, laying bones right, but it was never enough. I felt that I was loosing him, so I simply muttered "Heal, damn you!". And behold, a soft glow spread from my fingers and every wound closed. I spent that night in thankful prayer to the Watcher.
Arcane magic came as a point of self-defence. After the war was over, I travelled north, and the area was filled with bandits. I spent some time learning arcane cantrips and the like, to blast the occasional bandit assaulting me. I became quite good at it.
After the war, I settled down in a small village between Chail and Tendril, which name I forget, tending to ordinary wounds and ailments. A small village has plenty of need for a doctor, and it was perfect for less stressful, but similarly educational work. I think I took up alchemy at that time as a "hobby" of sorts. After all, bottling up your healing magic could be quite handy.

Another war, this time in Chail, and this time I was squarely on one side. I had no illusions of the itheril and betherak, and doubted that I could even come close to their camps. This was probably one of the more demanding works, as even undefended areas were continually attacked by slavers and the like. Even my magic was stretched thin, and I couldn't advance both my healing spells and the offensive magic I needed to keep enemies away from the wounded. I worked myself bloody, drew every single bit of magic I could from my body, prayed for Jaerik to see how I could help and learn the best.
And again, the answer came in a burst of inspiration. Suddenly, the arcane and divine didn't seemed so separated, impossible to combine. Simply put, I tried to walk both paths at the same time, and amazingly, it worked.
I thanked Jaerik with all my heart, then set about using my new-found knowledge to do my job as a doctor, it was the best way of showing gratitude. It was also at this time that I got my injury. A betherak golem had been knocked out, its controller slain, so it was little more than a piece of inert metal. Regardless, I treated a lancer laying close by, when the golem suddenly stirred. Perhaps its controller was not quite dead or it was some kind of reflex, I cannot say. Regardless, I threw up what meagre wards I could muster to protect myself and the lancer. While my patient survived, the golem struck my left leg, fracturing it in several places. My magic was all spent, so I had to lay it right myself, by hand. In all, I succeeded better than expected, since a failure would mean loosing the leg. As it is, I can still walk with the help of a cane without trouble, though more extreme physical exertions make the leg hurt. In all, it was a low price to pay for a life, and furthering my knowledge.

Some time has passed since then, in quiet study, but now I feel the need to take to the field once more, perhaps there is need for a doctor in Chail?
If nothing else, dear reader, I am certain that the future has many things to teach. It tends to have, for some reason.

Tariq ibn Rashid
City of Chail-Anden, 956 AL

Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity.

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