Be born in the 14th century
Raised up in a shit hole peasent village near London
Always had an interest in the medical arts since you were a wee lad
Be lucky enough to have parents that somehow know how to read
You read both Holy Books and medical texts on your off time
After gaining a fairly loose understanding of medicine you become the village doctor
You weren't very good but at least 1 out of every 3 of your patients survived your operations
One day you hear that one of the other kingdoms will be fighting against your own
Ohshit.jpg
The next battle is taking place less than a few miles away from your home
A messenger tells you and your peasant neighbors to stay inside and wait for the battle to be over
Fuck that, you’re going to watch
You head off to watch the battle from an old farm house which overlooked the battlefield
Sitting down in some hay, nearby a window, you see the two armies line up against one another in a field
After a few agonizing moments, one army charged into the other
Though you could not see much from your position, the defending army was immediately sprayed by a volley of arrows, and their enemies ran into their spear wall
“Rather foolish, that…”
You didn’t really know much about battle tactics, but that did seem pretty stupid
While pondering the tactics of these men, you notice 3 defending soldiers riding on horseback right towards the barn you were in
One of them appeared to be injured
You just barely manage to hide yourself before they kick down the wooden door
 
From your hiding spot you saw two soldiers carrying the third into your view
The two wore what appeared to be chain mail while the third was doned in an expensive royal tunic, reinforced with a steel chest piece
He also wore a fucking crown
Royal?
One of the men barked to his comrade
“Set down His Lordship, on that table!”
“Understood!”
Yep, definitely royal
The crowned man groaned loudly as he was placed on the wobbly furniture
He struggles to keep a composed expression as he asks
“I don’t really see what the big deal is, men! It was simply an arrow in my leg, I don’t feel bad at all!”
He moves his left leg to prove his point, immediately regretting it as the searing pain causes him to scream aloud
“Lord have mercy…”
The soldiers turn immediately to where you were
You mentally kick yourself for being so retarded
“Who is there! Show yourself”
They raise their blade
Knowing that they would probably think you were an enemy if you continued to hidden, you gulped, stepped out into the open with your hands raised
One of them approaches and throws you to the floor, knocking the wind out of you
While you are recovering, he checks you for weapons
Satisfied that you were unarmed, he gets up
“Just a peasant, Your Highness. What should we do with him?”
Struggling to look at the two of you, he points to a nearby support beam
“The other s-sentry, tie him up...we need to get the word out that I need a doctor!”
Hearing that title, perks your attention, as you get up from the floor
“I am a doctor, My Lord!”
Wait, maybe that wasn't the best idea
The soldiers point their swords at you again
The royal raises a brow
“Is t-that so?”
Blood was starting to drip from the table
“What school did you grad-”
He just passed out
One of the soldiers immediately rushes to the unconscious lord
After shaking him, he comes to
One of the soldiers grips you violently
“If you say you are a medicine man, then save him!”
He shoves you almost on top of the injured man
Looking down at him, he was barely holding on
You think to yourself “Okay, okay… you’ll need a pair of tweezers, something hot, and some bandages”
You turn to the two soldiers and tell them what you need
They scurry off looking for things in the barn that matched your descriptions
Coming back, you were less than pleased
A metal clamp, some old fabric, and a glowing branding iron
Frowning you take the fabric and clamp
Oh, you’ll need a knife
“I’ll need your sword, sir.”
Offended by your request, one of them glares
The other quickly gives you his blade, roughly bumping into his college
 
Taking the blade you cut open the cloth around the wound
The injury was seeping crimson with a snapped off arrowhead plunged into his calf
Thankfully it was only an inch and a half into him
Throwing the blade aside you grab the clamp with one hand and the cattle iron in the other
You look up from your impromptu patient, you give an awkward grin to the soldiers
“If you two could so kindly put something in his mouth, it would be welcomed!”
Briefly taken aback by your request, one of them removes his leather sword sheath and puts it in the lord’s mouth
You breath deeply
“Okay, here we go!”
>Immediately, you tear the foreign object from his leg, which speews out blood in response
>The royal barely is able to suppress his scream of pain as he squeezes his eyes shut and groans aloud
>Roughly pulling the wound closed with the clamp, you plunge the glowing cattle iron onto his wound
>The royals eyes shoot open, his neck and forehead bulge with veins, as he lets out a muffled shriek
>The scabbard does its job as his jaw clamps down on it, saving his tongue from being severed by his teeth
>His terrible scream moves through the thick scabbard, filling the barn with his anguish
>He kicks violently, trying to get you off of him
>Your tools almost get lost to you in his pitiful struggle
>You had to continue
>You had to get a grip ][]]]][[]]]
>Franktically you turn to the other, mortified soldier
“Don’t stand there! Hold him down!
>The soldier obeys and holds the royal’s leg still
>His skin sizzles and scalds as the wound stops bleeding
>Thankfully the royal passes out from his pain
>You take the ‘bandages’ and pact the wound
>The soldier holding his scabbard from the royal’s mouth removes it and the other lets go of his leg
>You wipe the sweat from your brow
The one that helped you sighs aloud while the other gives a disgruntled look at his sheath which now deformed by teeth imprints
Finishing up and tying a knot on the bandage, 5 infantrymen run into the barn
They wore the same uniform that your ‘assistants’
“We came as soon as we could! The battle is won!”
The announcing soldier notices the royal beneath you
“Wait... is that the King? By God, is he alright?”
One of the soldiers that helped you, removes his helmet and smiles at you
“Indeed he is, and we have our doctor friend here to thank! Why, if he hadn’t have come to us when he did, Our Majesty would surely be dead!”
The 5 soldiers give shocked looks
The soldier with damaged scabbard slaps you on the back
“By the grace of God, we thank you doctor! What is your name, pray tell?”
Shocked by their overwhelming admiration, you stutter
“A-Anonymous, sir.”
“N-nonsense. That’s not your name…”
Bewildered you look down
The King was awake, much to your surprise
The men all bow immediately at the monarch
He turns to his men, disappointed
“Do not bow to me! Bow to him, Anonymous ‘The Healer’”
Your mouth is agape and all of his men double take between you two
The King unsheathes his scabbard blade, and motions you to take it
“For your service for God, the King, and for your Kingdom, I grant you my blade and the spot to be my personal physician!”
You fall to the floor
Before you completely pass out, you hear the King laugh a jolly laugh, which is cut short by a grunt of pain
 
 
“Now, now Dutchess, no need to fight!”
>You firmly plant your shoe upon the woman's breast, as you try again with more leverage
>You readjust the pliers in her mouth, getting a solid grip
>The woman’s pained grunts are your only response, as your assistants held her in place
“I. almost. got. It!”
>The rotten molar is yanked from her mouth, sending you flying backwards into your medical cabinet
>Rubbing your head, you look around in a disorientated haze
>Your gaze lands on the tooth, covered in an unpleasant mix of blood and saliva
>With a gloved hand you take the tooth and a cloth from a table
>You hand the two to the Dutchess
“My treatment for now is to use this cloth to stop the bleeding and every evening before you go to bed, you will rinse your mouth with a mixture of wine, and alum powder. I’ll see you next week for your follow up.”
>Your assistants help her to the door as she muttered very unlady-like profanities, with the cloth in her mouth
“Bye now, Dutchess Veronica! God be with you,”
>Out of earshot you add
“You old bitch!”
>Your two assistants look rather spent, so with a wave, you dismiss them
>Closing time at last!
>Today's patients were as dull as usual
>The odd headache, pained gut, constipation, and as of recently, toothaches
>You had really had no issue with the royal clientele but it sure was boring
>With a sigh you remove your gloves and your bloodied apron
>When putting your garb away for the night an oddly shrill voice beckons from the doorway
>Turning you noticed it was the King’s polygamist messenger
>You were certain you could cure his sinful disease with bloodletting or a drill to the cranium but the King refused your offers every time
>His Majesty said that his feminine demeanor entertained him more than the Court’s jester
>The polygamist opened a scroll when you looked at him
>“Your King is in need of your assistance in a personal matter, Doctor Anonymous!”
>The feminine man clicks his heels then skitters away
>Rubbing your temples together you sigh
“Better see what it is…”
>Before stepping out of your office, you put on your waist scabbard which housed Mournival, the sword the King gifted you two years ago
 
>Knocking on the King’s door you hear a little commotion on the other side
>Concerned you lean against the door, putting your ear against it
“My Liege..?”
>As soon as you put your weight on the door, it swung open
>You promptly feel on your face
>“My, my, my friend! You must be more careful!”
>You grunt, face down on his fur carpet
“Nife fu shee you, yoursh Mahashee…”
>He chuckles, hoisting you off the floor
>Seeing you erect, he brushes the dirt off your shoulders then embraces you
>You give him an unenthusiastic pat on the back in return
“You, uh, wanted to see me, my King?”
>The King pulls you back away to arms length, then let's go
>He gives you a childlike pout
>“So, ‘The Healer’ Anonymous has no time to jest with his King? Such seriousness for a man of your age! A bore, you are!”
>You give a brief chuckle, noticing how uptight you were right now with your Master and dearest friend
“I apologize, I'm just a bit tired after today's patients…”
>The King raises a brow, interested
>He walks you to a small table and sits you down
>“Oh really? Pray tell, chum!”
>He is pouring two cups of wine in silver chalices
“Well… Dutchess Veronica-”
>The King lets out a uproarious laugh
>“That hag?! Oh my dear boy, please let me guess! Was it constipation?”
“No.”
>“Foul vapors?”
“No.
>“Being an old bitch?”
“Oh I wish it was! But no, your Majesty, it wasn't”
>He looks disappointed
>“Then what, old boy? Spit it out!”
>The King sits down across from you on the table, and hands you a chalice of wine
“Tooth decay.”
>“‘Tooth decay’? Well I guess if you only eat sugared sweets all day, you’d get that...I liked my guesses better to be honest…”
>You smile, rolling your eyes
>Sipping your wine you mutter
“Of course, your Majesty.”
>His fist slams on the table
>Startled you turn to him, expecting him to be angry by your lack of manners
>Surprisingly enough, he wasn't mad, just serious
>“Having wine isn’t the reason why I summoned you here tonight, my dear doctor. There have been rumors circulating with the peasants, rumors so worrying that they have reached my ear from my Royal Court. Would you happen to know what I am referring to?”
>His sudden change in tone concerned you
>You put the chalice on the table
“No, I don’t think I do, my King. To be honest I've been working in my office for at least three days straight.”
>The King is shocked
>“‘Three days’? By God, what have you been doing my boy?”
>Shifting in your chair you smile, being able to describe your daily schedule with someone who cared
“Well I've actually been working on a potential line of experi-”
>“Enough about that, friend. Now, what were we discussing?”
>Hiding your annoyance at your opportunity to share your thoughts destroyed, you groan
“‘The rumors’, your Majesty?”
>Clapping his hands together, he continues
>“Yes, yes, thank you!”
>His tone deepens to a low whisper
>It seemed as if the room’s temperature dropped and a howling night breezed echoed through the fire lit room
>A chill runs down your back
>“So, these rumors are quite concerning, disturbing even… whispered talk of the mainland being swallowed up in a sinister cloud of taint...towns emptying in a single night...a threat which make the most steadfast Knight tremble... the Devil and the Death dancing side by side in the pale moonlight...a pestilence…”
>He leans in closer, you gulp
>“Have you ever heard of the Black Death, my friend?”