A Teaching Tale of the Apprentice Healer

This Gorean Fan Fiction was generated using Chat GPT alongside the RP logs. 

Please note that the Gorean Saga is a fictional series, and its world, customs, and values may not align with modern societal standards or moral principles.

Gor is Copyrighted by John Norman

 

The young apprentice sat cross-legged on the floor of the small healing chamber, her attention buried deep in a stack of medical texts. She was so absorbed in the study of wounds and bandages that she barely noticed the soft rustling behind her—until a gentle voice cut through her concentration.

“Still studying?” the healer asked with an indulgent smile. “How goes the training? Any questions troubling your mind today?”

The apprentice straightened, nodding earnestly. “It’s going well. Yesterday I practiced treating a pretend laceration—bandaging a forehead wound. I made sure everything was cleaned and put away afterward.” She hesitated, then added, “My master told me to ask how to tell if an artery has been hit… and how to remove an arrow and treat the wound.”

The healer’s smile warmed. “Ah, good questions. Come here, I’ll teach you.”

The apprentice scooted closer, eyes sharp with eagerness.

“First,” the healer began, “arterial bleeding has three unmistakable signs. The blood is bright red—full of oxygen. It spurts or pulses in time with the heartbeat. And it pours out swiftly, far faster than ordinary bleeding. Losing control of an arterial wound is dangerous, so those signs must become familiar to you.”

The apprentice repeated the points quietly to herself, committing them to memory.

The healer continued, drawing two quick sketches on a piece of parchment: one of an arrow that had passed clean through a body, and another where the arrowhead remained embedded. The drawings were impressively clear.

“Arrow wounds are trickier,” she said. “If the arrow has passed all the way through, you may trim the shaft—only if you are permitted—and pad around the wound to prevent movement. If the arrowhead is still inside, do not pull it out unless a skilled physician is very near. Removing it blindly risks massive internal damage.”

The apprentice nodded solemnly. “Yes, understood. I don’t think I would dare pull one out alone anyway.” She pointed at the drawing. “If I had to, though—if no healer could come—should I pack the wound first to stop the bleeding?”

“Correct,” the healer affirmed. “Pack it with clean cloth. If none is available, dense leaves—like large ferns—can be used in emergencies. The goal is to prevent movement and bleeding.”

She tapped the second drawing. “And always assume the arrowhead is poisoned.”

The apprentice blinked. “Always?”

“Always,” the healer repeated. “The antidote will not harm someone who has no poison in their blood. But failing to treat poison immediately can mean death. Most venoms can be countered by our general antidote—except for that of the ost snake. Brilliant yellow-orange with black rings. Its venom has no cure.”

The apprentice shivered at the thought. “If someone were bitten… could you amputate a limb to save them? For example, if my master were bitten above the ankle?”

The healer laughed softly at the earnestness of the question. “Whether your master would agree to losing a limb is another matter. Pride runs deep. But yes—cutting off the limb quickly enough could prevent the venom from spreading. And if you could catch the snake, you might extract a little venom from it to help craft a stronger antidote—though even that is uncertain with an ost.”

The apprentice’s eyes shone with determination. “Even if it only bought time… I would try. I couldn’t just abandon someone to die.”

The healer yawned lightly, fatigue finally catching up to her. “You’ve asked many good questions today. Do you have any more before I go to rest?”

The apprentice shook her head. “No. Not today. The rest I can learn from the books.” She bowed respectfully. “Thank you for the lesson. And may your night be peaceful.”

As the healer left the room, the apprentice returned to her texts—though now she studied with a new, fierce curiosity. Medicine, she realized, was far more thrilling than she had ever expected.