Sister Hermeline

Sister Hermeline, the Firm Hand

Sister Hermeline belongs to the order of Elemosne (the god who asks each person to set themselves aside for the good of all). She follows the teaching of the Venerable Barnaby (among humans, “venerable” is the title given to their saints). She runs the dispensary in Thornwick on her own. Barnaby taught that one person’s suffering counts for little when several lives can be saved, and she applies the lesson to her patients. Her care is excellent, and given without the slightest gentleness. In the village, the toughest men make themselves very small on her waiting bench.

Describe her

The dispensary smells of vinegar and warm wax. Sister Hermeline greets you in a round, almost singing voice. She calls you “my dear,” whatever your age, and sits you down with a hand on your shoulder that cannot be resisted. She examines a wound the way a butcher examines a side of beef: she turns it, prods it, presses on it. She hums the whole time. When you wince, she nods, satisfied.

Play her

Make her warm and brisk. She smiles, she chatters, and she puts the dislocated shoulder back in mid-sentence, without warning. Every complaint gets the same answer: if it hurts, you’re alive. A few prayers to Elemosne are enough for her to drive out a fever, undo a paralysis, or purge a poison. She hands them out like any other remedy, with no talk of miracles. She turns no one away. What occupies her is the next one on the bench, and she will send you out the moment you can stand.

What she says (rarely)

“It hurts? Good, my dear, that means you’re alive.”
“Grit your teeth. Whining is for people who have time.”
(patting your cheek, delighted) “There. Next!”