Isofka The Bloodletter

You are Isofka Vaccant, a 22 year old half elf (relative to human ageing) who has dedicated her
life to the study of medicine and the practice of bloodletting. Isofka was born to reasonable wealth, by
no means that of an elder, but of a rabbit farmer a fairly well respected profession on Dassan,
providing some of the higher quality used to make life on Dassan bearable. Although she was expected
to continue on the family tradition, it was not her father that interested Isofka, but her mother, who
would frequently take in workmen who were injured while working the barren fields. Isofka would
often ask to help her elven mother during the makeshift surgeries she would perform, performing
simple tasks such as preparing bandages or fetching the rusted scalpel from the medical table and
passing it to her mother, hands lingering upon the blade for just a moment longer than necessary.

Your father put up significant resistance to the idea of sending you to the College to pursue your
medical interests, although the consistent prodding of your mother changed his mind he never could
resist her requests. With tears in their eyes, your family saw you off as you departed for College. The
following years would see your rise to fame amongst those of the College as a dedicated and as a
skilled medical practitioner, as well as an avid critic of the very college you excelled within.

Isofka disagreed with the strict ethical regimenting that plagued College practices, believing
that their ways were old and their policies and taboos prevented proper experimentation and
development in the medical field. This disagreement came to a head in the final day of schooling, in
which Isofka climbed to the top of the College facility, and shouted out an oath she dubbed The
Hippocratic Oath so named after the only instructor who agreed with her perspective, and encouraged
her to push the boundaries of medicine. This oath would later be referred to by its opponents as The
Hypocritic Oath, a name that infuriates Isokfa.

As Isofka graduates from the College, she returns to a broken home. Her father has since passed
on, and in grievance her mother has lost her own mind, sinking to depression and insanity. Although,
perhaps this was good for Isofka, now a young adult, and a very different person now than she was
upon departing for the College many years ago. For Isofka, the path was clear. She would reclaim the
patients of her mother's (who now resided in her basement, muttering away and lamenting how her
shaky hands can no longer hold a scalpel steady.) With plenty of swarthy workmen to experiment upon
as she cured their wounds and ailments she was finally able to make the progress she was denied at the
College.

Tragically, this was not to last. As word of her unusual practices got out, especially those of
magical bloodletting, she had her medical licence stripped away and was barred from further work in
the field. However, fate would provide Isofka with a second chance, for she would look upon the
wounded and dying adventurers returning from their voyages to distant isles with an almost giddy
feeling of excitement at the progress that could be made upon them...

After all, the desperation of a dying man allows a one's mind to overlook even the most grim of
experiments...
 THE HIPPOCRATIC OATH
I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:

I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I
walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.

I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures which are required, avoiding
those twin traps of hesitation and therapeutic nihilism.

I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that
unorthodox experimentation may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's
drug.

I will not be ashamed to say "I know not," nor will I fail experiment ruthlessly to
bring resolution to that which i know not.

I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their aliments are mine to faun over
and mine alone. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and
death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my
power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great
ruthlessness and curiosity. After all, it is mine to play a god.

I will remember that I treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, and a crippling
gash, but the sick human being underneath, whose illness may affect the person's
family and economic stability, is not of my concern. My responsibility ignores
these related problems, if I am truly to understand the ailment.

I will experiment upon disease whenever I can, for experimentation is preferable

to cure.

I will remember that I am an elevated member of society, with special privileges

above all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the
infirm.

If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and
remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the
finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of studying those
who seek my help.