The only seriously injured man was one that had fallen from his horse, only to stand and fight, only to suffer the Ankheg's successful attention. If his health began to decline, he was going to be at death's door in short order, but for now, they had made him comfortable, and someone was keeping some pressure on the bandages. With their attention, he was holding, but anytime someone looked over to him, they would quickly look away, not having much hope for their survival.
The horse that Ernesto had attended to calmed after he attended to it, laying its head down to rest, though the wounds had not disappeared entirely. It was certainly doing better, however.
The attack had happened at midmorning, and by the time Zathe has finished assisting where necessary, setting up pallets and helping bandage some wounds, The total thus far lay at six horses, injured enough to remain immobile, Ernesto's mule, and one man. Thankfully none were dead, but they were still likely to be several days in recovery. Spirits were low when the sun set, the chill of the night becoming more noticeable and the tension in the air was palpable.. It was likely that little sleep would be found this night.
At sundown Ernesto returned to the wagon. He was exhausted. It was hard tending the animals when they were in such pain. And he couldn't stay focused, his mind kept wandering to Iomedae. At least the injured beasts seemed to take some comfort from his ministrations. But it was draining work, it felt like he left a little of himself with each one. He sat leaning back on the wagon wheel. With his crossbow across his lap. Sleep, a ponderous mountain dancing on tiny silent feet, slipped up on him and he dozed open-mouthed through the night.
After doing his best to attend to the wounded, Zathe became continually frustrated at his inability to do more. The next night, he stayed awake until the dawn, solemnly praying to Erastil to aid him in his struggle to defend others from evil- or in this case, from vicious Ankhegs. The next day, Zathe was exhausted; but his prayers had seemingly been answered. Erastil had granted him healing hands.
Dot
False dawn's dim grey light woke the young paladin. Ernesto walked to the eastern edge of camp and laid his sword on the ground before him to pray. He kneeled next to the sword, bemused. Why did I use the staff when I have this beautiful sword? Stupid! Clearing his head by shaking it, he bowed to the east and the coming glory of dawn.
As he finished his devotions a hubbub from one of the wagons drew his attention. Ernesto hurried over to investigate. "Master Zathe healed Cimmean, " murmured one of the guards as Ernesto approached. "We thought he was going to die, his leg was crushed and turning green. But Dead-eye's own hand worked through Zathe and he's able to get up and walk a bit."
Ernesto respectfully followed Zathe as the guard captain made his rounds, keeping to the rear of the little knot of curious well-wishers the captain attracted. The young Cheliaxian noted Zathe's demeanor, concentration, and sincerity when tending his patients.
Would that Iomedae worked so through me.
Marvelling at the healing power Erastil had granted him, Zathe resolved not to let its distraction impact his fighting ability- and as soon as he was able moved off to go through his daily exercises, stretches and martial routines; inviting Ernesto to join him if he wished to.
Ernesto gladly joined Zathe in practice. The other man had much to teach him in weapon craft and in life. I am lucky to have found a teacher so skilled with a blades and with such good character.
When saddling a fresh horse later in the day, Zathe was pleased that he had at least mastered the basics of riding, and he found he was able to control the horse with just his knees after some practice, despite his scale mail.
To say the attitudes of those in the caravan had changed was somewhat of an understatement. Ernesto was regarded higher than before, but Zathe was the one who rose the most in the caravaners' eyes. If anyone spoke to either of them, it was in a not-quite reverential tone for those that had not seen a Paladin before, and for those that had-- which were few-- they were certainly more respectful.
In some cases. For Zathe, Janus and Shion's attitudes had not changed, the former because "I hired you to do a job, and you are doing that job well", and the latter seemed to simply be because of his personality.
Ara's estimation of Ernesto had not changed, and though he complimented him on a job well done, he was still prone to lecture on about points that he felt Ernesto needed to know, or occasionally testing his knowledge about things that had happened so far, and their relevance to outside factors. In regards to trade, Ara, along with Nellin, was providing an inside view about how trading worked, as well as why prices were what they were.
Granted, the two did tend to get a bit technical at times, leading into a discussion that lost Ernesto after a copule oblique references or so, and Suzanna just rolled her eyes once they started deviating, though she did add a relevant comment or two in here and there. Smiling, she had leaned over to Ernesto with a small smile, whispering. "Sometimes, old men like to talk just to hear the sound of their voices", she teased.
As always Ernesto listened studiously, trying to glean something from the conversation, even when Ara and Nellin detoured into esoterica. Suzanna's teasing drew a mild response, "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean their words are empty." He grinned to take away any impression that he was rebuking her.
Thanks to the efforts of the two, neither horse nor man was lost to their wounds, and exhausting themselves (such a persistent and complete usage of Lay on Hands leaves the two of you spiritually fatigued for the rest of the day) let them restore every injured person to functioning, if not completely healing their wounds (if they so chose). Hearing the talk and the revising of plans that went on, at least the two had saved the caravan time in many senses. One more day was taken to make certain of the state of those injured, and they would continue on.
Ernesto was well satisfied with the day. Healing was work of obvious value and virtue. And he was glad the caravan seemed a little more comfortable, a little friendlier. The first day he had felt more than a little out of place and useless. And although he hadn't blanched or run, he had hardly won himself or Iomedae great honor in the fight with the ankhegs. With a prayer of thanksgiving echoing in his mind he lay down under Nellin's wagon. He slept deeply again that night.
The next morning saw the caravan up and preparing to leave in the chilly air, dew sparkling on the grasses, and breath pluming visibly in the early light. Everyone was packing up to resume travel at least a week ahead of schedule, if not more. Spirits were high thanks to the two, with a large amount of cheer coming simply because of their revealed presence. When asked about the change in atmosphere, the gist was simply, "Anyone can declare themselves anything, proving it is the difference."
The smell of morning porridge was thick in the air, seasoned with nuts and meat, setting nearly every stomach to proclaiming its emptiness, and urging no few to line up in anticipation of it being done. Added to that was the smell of a warm fruit mash to accompany it, and nearly all were looking forward to breakfast. Aferi, the cook, was grinning from ear to ear at the show of appreciation for his work.
Zathe was approached by Janus after his morning exercises, the caravan master appearing much more at ease than the day before.
"More than simple 'thanks' are owed to you, young Dakamon." he began with a sober nod, despite his earlier words. "Thanks to you and the Arbiter's bodyguard, we have lost little time to injuries, and remain more or less on schedule. Rest assured that your services rendered have been noted, and you will be compensated accordingly." His piece said, Janus went back to overseeing the caravan, or in this instance, to his place in line, awaiting the completion of breakfast.
For Ernesto, many more took notice of him than before, receiving nods and such from passing guards and merchants who greeted him by name-- mostly those guards whose horses he had helped heal. A minor celebrity for the moment, along with Zathe, this was tangible proof that good work is indeed rewarded. Certainly, his mule liked him even more.
Zathe simply bowed before Janus, but felt an inner sense of pride at his accomplishments, nay; his and Erastil's accomplishments. His martial prowess was his, but the wonderful healing hands Old Deadeye had granted him were a precious gift, not his own. Zathe sought out Ernesto for another sparring session, seeking to speak to him privately once the session had finished.
Ernesto is "pleased and honored". He suggests a different weapon this time, quarterstaves.
It has been some time since Zathe used a weapon as simple as a stave, but after a few minutes he found the rhythm of the sparring once more. Once the two of them had each broken a sweat, Zathe posed an inquiry-
Tell me of your role in this caravan- who is your superior and what is his agenda? Is your future tied to his?
During the sparring Ernesto swings the staff with a familiarity and confidence lacking in his swordplay. His blows are short and quick and fall in a staccato rhythm, but don't land heavily.
In lulls between flurries of strikes he answers, "I am the bodyguard of Ara, Arbiter of Abadar. He is a good priest and well respected. As an Arbiter he travels a circuit along which he settles disputes, officiates at ceremonies, fills in for a local priest for a time."
"I thought I would follow him and maybe someday take Abadar's Rule, but in Remesiana I felt a different calling. At dawn I felt a rush of warmth and welcome, like nothing I had experienced before. I wandered the city and my feet led me to the temple of Iomedae. That morning I dedicated myself to following her footsteps. Helping those in need, defending the weak."
"I am not sure exactly how yet. For now I am hired to Ara until the caravan reaches its destination. I will practice and pray and see what task the goddess lays before me."
Zathe says nothing for a long time, continuing to spar. When it seems like the conversation has surely ended, he speaks once more-
I would encourage you to find your own path, Ernesto. Finish your duties with the Arbiter and then join me in my travels- there is much good to be done in this world and I sense a kindred in you; while Abadar is a deity of law, he understands little of benevolence. We could wander the lands, united as servants of justice; fighting evil and chaos so others do not have to be subject to it. What say you?
"I am much of the same mind, Zathe. It would be honor to join you in such an undertaking, and I think it would please my goddess too.
Then we have a plan. Come, the caravan will be moving soon...
Zathe checks over the men under his command carefully, ensuring they are all ready for any trouble that might rear its ugly head.
The men were prepared and even polished, thanks to the day of downtime. Every one of them gave him a sharp nod, or a casual salute after he okayed them to prep their horses. The rest of the caravan was setting itself to move, which was to say that items were being picked up and stowed, and the drivers were checking over the horses hitched to their carts. When one was done with theirs, they moved onwards to help the others, so that things were done quickly.
Ara was assisting wherever he may have been useful, adding a hand here and there, so that in less than a mark the caravan was set to move. He was still jovially chatting with Nellin and the other drivers when Janus made the final round, his loud voice signalling to everyone that things were in shape and ready to move. The guard that had nearly died in the attack was quite willing to lend Zathe his mount for the time being.
Eight days into their journey across the plain, and Brastlewark was still that many days away and more.
As usual morning found Ernesto at prayer. He thanked Iomedae for the caravan's relatively safe passage thus far, and for strength and wisdom in the new day. He also thanked her for meeting Zathe and asked for her blessing on their plan to ride errant after the caravan was safely delivered.
Zathe wrote yet another letter to Eliandra and Senalise, explaining that Erastil had blessed him with the ability to heal others, and talking about his first real battle alongside other fighting men. He added it to the stack, determined to send all of the letters once the caravan reached a large enough town.
Three days after everyone had recovered and the caravan had been moving again, there was a tension that could be felt from both trader and guard alike. Janus waved both Zathe and Ernesto forward to speak with him as the caravan continued to make its way across the plain.
"There are no stationary towns to speak of on the plain", he began. "However, there are several clans that travel with their animals and live on it. Any traders usually have freedom to travel across it, and I myself have spoken to nearly all of the clan heads at one point or another, but this free pass is not guaranteed." One large hand scrubbed across his chin as Janus looked towards their destination, still so far in the distance that all that could be seen was the rise of the mountain range a long ways away. "The reason being, sometimes other nomadic tribes can be in the area, sometimes orc, rarely gnoll. So I just wanted to let you two know to keep your eyes open, as we should have seen someting from one of the clans by now."
The caravan scouts had ridden wide, but all of them were within sight range of the caravan itself, and every guard rode with a hand on a weapon.
Zathe nodded his understanding.
I shall remain vigilant, Sir Cableton! he said, brimming with confidence and eagerness to please.
The scouts signaled that something had been spotted as sundown came, just as the wagons were circling for the night. There were several guards on watch atop the wagons at intervals, while the others were spread out around them, keeping an eye out. The scouts had been sent out to collect what they could for the evening for the cook, when one comes riding back from the direction that they were headed, reporting to Janus directly. His gestures seemed a bit hasty as he spoke, and Janus looked a bit concerned, though he set his shoulders and nodded at his words.
When the scout had finished the quick report, Janus whistled loudly enough to get the guards attention and raised his fist, circling it, a gesture that was taken up by the visible guards.
The wagon train became a circle of movement, tall torches being set and lit around the perimeter of the wagons, while the merchants set out sturdy steel lanterns, hanging them from hooks on the sides.
One of the guards, seeing the motion, reported to Zathe and Ernesto, carrying one of the tall torches. "We're preparing for a fight. We're hoping that it won't come to it, but the clan isn't known to us."
After Janus' first warning about the tribes, Ernesto had stayed close to the caravan, particularly Nellin's wagon. He wanted to be near Ara in case there was trouble. He kept his weapons with him, stayed armoured, and devoted his attention to the horizon.
***
One of the guards, seeing the motion, reported to Zathe and Ernesto, carrying one of the tall torches. "We're preparing for a fight. We're hoping that it won't come to it, but the clan isn't known to us."
Ernesto nods, "Thanks for the news. I hope that it doesn't some to a fight either." He turns to Zathe, "What do you think? Has Janus said anything to you? "
He checks the action on his crossbow while he waits for the guard-captain's reply.
Nothing yet... He mostly leaves me to my duties and to make my own judgements. Zathe replied, also checking his weapons and preparing himself for battle.
"Maybe we could ask Ara, or the drivers. One of them may have been through here before."
Ernesto leads the way toward Nellin's wagon hoping to find Ara.
Zathe nods slowly.
Very well, lead on.
Ara was standing, helping Nellin with whatever he needed to make the wagon and the others of those nearby defensible. Seeing the two approaching, he gave both a nod of recognition, but did not stop working. Nellin did the same as well, where he was opening a case of bolts and setting it upon the roof of the caravan, next to the crossbow. Torches and lanterns were going up across the caravan, and two torches were set outside of the ring of wagons, distinctive enough that it could perhaps be a neutral meeting point.
The other drivers and guards that they passed looked focused, as if they had done this before, but did not look forward to it occurring. Others seemed calm as they went about preparations, though one or two betrayed their nervousness with shaking hands and fast glances.
Ernesto approaches the wagon and asks respectfully, "Ara, Nellin, Janus and his men don't recognise the approaching tribe. You are both widely traveled men. DO you have any idea who they could be or what their intentions could be?"
At Ernesto's question, Ara shook his head, unable to offer any help, looking to Nellin. "I've not crossed these plains", he admitted. "My travels were by the south."
Nellin stopped his inspection of the crossbow to look at Ernesto, then Zathe, giving a bit of a fatalistic shrug. "It depends. There is always some sort of conflict going on amongst the several tribes that inhabit this plain, but if this is one that has not been seen before, then the question is whether or not they are inclined to peacefully trade, or fight."
Suzanna's voice came from inside the wagon, where she had been stowing things more securely, and possibly hiding the valuable things they possessed. "This caravan can deter a fair-sized raiding party, though not without cost.. The presence of you two change that assessment to 'fairly well'." Her voice was slightly muffled for a little longer before she exited the wagon, her hair tied back and held under a kerchief. "We'll just have to see-- and pray it does not come to that."
therealthom
Understandable. Hope the other games go well.