Homer's Penultimate Death? Please Help!
Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 8:11 pm
Homer’s Penultimate Death?
The death itself was pretty routine, if not downright repetitive. As I suggested I would in Obituary 2152, I returned to the Desert of Compassion yesterday and was killed in a manner remarkably similar to that of the day before. Repetition of the same mistakes, after all, is what inspires record-breaking performances.
The aftermath, however, has not been routine. After years of excellent relations with the Healer’s Guild, I now find myself seriously at odds with that institution and under an administratively-imposed DNR order.
I surely do not have to tell any citizen of Brittania that places like the Desert of Compassion are frustrating and stressful work environments. At times, you spend huge amounts of time and money with little to show for even the best performance. I hope you’ll agree that getting killed in any circumstances is also a frustrating experience. So the summary is that when I was resurrected in Britain yesterday, I came back into the world already in a cranky mood. It was the perfect environment for a misunderstanding in communication.
Now, I’ve known Macer for a long time. In fact, I've known him my whole life many times. He can be a bit tiresome with that dry wit of his and he isn’t the friendliest guy when you run into him at the pub, but I like the guy. Heck, I was his daughter’s coach when she earned her cartography merit badge. But when he said what he did . . . well, I just snapped a little. True, the Guild has since explained that all healers say the same thing when they perform their duties. It’s kind of a CYA legal thing that disavows the Guild of responsibility for anything a resurrectee might do after being medically helped. I’m sure that is true and that I have heard the words thousands of times. That said, the fact is that I never heard the actual words before. You know how it is when you first wake up—conversation is just noise. But yesterday, I heard the words and I thought Macer was just smarting off. You have to admit “Compassion heals all” was not exactly the right thing to say to me in that moment.
I didn’t hit him hard, at all. It was more of a push, really. However, it appears that the guild understandably has a “no tolerance” policy on physical violence and once Macer filed a complaint (in spite of my repeated apologies), they had no choice but to file a temporary “Do Not Resurrect” order. To make matter’s worse, when they were announcing the action, Penn-Hedley III happened to be in the Guild Headquarters rummaging through the lost and found for some missing journal. He overheard and immediately appointed himself my legal representative and I was not present to contradict him. He immediately declared that I was innocent by reason of insanity and that I had suffered a flashback as a result of a medical condition stemming from my Ophidian War military service. Furthermore, he announced “we” were suing the Guild for 10 million gp$ under the Queen’s Disability Act.
I’m doing everything I can to smooth things over, but as of now, I cannot avail myself of any of Brittania’s professional healing services. I have to be very careful, something for which I’m not well known. If anyone has some influence or feels inspired to help, please write or post a notice to the Guild in my support. In the meantime, I will have to rely on the Shrines (the Guild has no control over them) and the kindness of other citizens for my medical care in the case of mortal emergency.
The death and resurrection, by the way, was number 2153. This could be the last obituary.
The death itself was pretty routine, if not downright repetitive. As I suggested I would in Obituary 2152, I returned to the Desert of Compassion yesterday and was killed in a manner remarkably similar to that of the day before. Repetition of the same mistakes, after all, is what inspires record-breaking performances.
The aftermath, however, has not been routine. After years of excellent relations with the Healer’s Guild, I now find myself seriously at odds with that institution and under an administratively-imposed DNR order.
I surely do not have to tell any citizen of Brittania that places like the Desert of Compassion are frustrating and stressful work environments. At times, you spend huge amounts of time and money with little to show for even the best performance. I hope you’ll agree that getting killed in any circumstances is also a frustrating experience. So the summary is that when I was resurrected in Britain yesterday, I came back into the world already in a cranky mood. It was the perfect environment for a misunderstanding in communication.
Now, I’ve known Macer for a long time. In fact, I've known him my whole life many times. He can be a bit tiresome with that dry wit of his and he isn’t the friendliest guy when you run into him at the pub, but I like the guy. Heck, I was his daughter’s coach when she earned her cartography merit badge. But when he said what he did . . . well, I just snapped a little. True, the Guild has since explained that all healers say the same thing when they perform their duties. It’s kind of a CYA legal thing that disavows the Guild of responsibility for anything a resurrectee might do after being medically helped. I’m sure that is true and that I have heard the words thousands of times. That said, the fact is that I never heard the actual words before. You know how it is when you first wake up—conversation is just noise. But yesterday, I heard the words and I thought Macer was just smarting off. You have to admit “Compassion heals all” was not exactly the right thing to say to me in that moment.
I didn’t hit him hard, at all. It was more of a push, really. However, it appears that the guild understandably has a “no tolerance” policy on physical violence and once Macer filed a complaint (in spite of my repeated apologies), they had no choice but to file a temporary “Do Not Resurrect” order. To make matter’s worse, when they were announcing the action, Penn-Hedley III happened to be in the Guild Headquarters rummaging through the lost and found for some missing journal. He overheard and immediately appointed himself my legal representative and I was not present to contradict him. He immediately declared that I was innocent by reason of insanity and that I had suffered a flashback as a result of a medical condition stemming from my Ophidian War military service. Furthermore, he announced “we” were suing the Guild for 10 million gp$ under the Queen’s Disability Act.
I’m doing everything I can to smooth things over, but as of now, I cannot avail myself of any of Brittania’s professional healing services. I have to be very careful, something for which I’m not well known. If anyone has some influence or feels inspired to help, please write or post a notice to the Guild in my support. In the meantime, I will have to rely on the Shrines (the Guild has no control over them) and the kindness of other citizens for my medical care in the case of mortal emergency.
The death and resurrection, by the way, was number 2153. This could be the last obituary.