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Unread 4th of February, 2005, 13:53
Cadrius's Avatar
Refusing to Sow [Epic GM]

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Heulwen, Dun, Rhotha'ah, Aashya, Aleina

"Ah, of course," Lyr replies, casting a final glance toward Kingscross before setting off after Heulwen once more.

Three hours pass and they put miles between them and the doomed village. The distance is great enough that even the wind cannot carry the sound of the dying to their ears, but the ghostly memories of men, women, and children being cut down still haunts them. The small forest laying to the west of Kingscross is far distant, and they are very much alone in the rolling plains of the Westlands.

Feyd had shown more courage than Rhotha'ah had expected. If the man died there it would have been a good end. A noble end. The dorn might have joined him if not for his oath. Death will come for him one day, but there are other things he must attend to first.

Aleina is still troubled by her conscience. Pragmatism told her that any resistance would have gotten the lot of them killed if they were lucky, and taken prisoner if they were not. She has a charge to take care of, and there are others who she can still help. The young woman doesn't know where to begin looking for Dura Abben, but the smoking ruin of Kingscross will hold few answers.

Dun is quiet, still rolling the words spoken by Feyd around his mind. A memory pops into his head of his father and the occasional trinket he would bring home. Dun's favorite had been a small wooden solider supposedly carved by an elf from Alloduan, but knowing his father it could have just as likely come from a merchant down the street. It didn't matter. He wonders where his father is at that moment. Is he still alive? Is he thinking of his son?

Aashya's mind continues to assail the impregnable fortress blocking her from the answers. Yet she comes up with nothing more than she had earlier in the day. She isn't a simple commoner, that much is certain, but the depth of her knowledge remains unknown. Her mind plays Feyd's parting over and over in her head. For a moment she had felt like it made sense to go with him, to do what she could for those people, but each time she thought of doing so left her with a feeling of unease. Had she done this before? The mental castle remains unbroken, but perhaps in time she will wear it down.

Heulwen leads the way, her mind focused singly on escape. Tomorrow should not be worried about if you die today. They were lucky that the orcs decided to put the town to the sword. It will be some time before they are through and by then the halfling hopes to be long gone and leaving nothing but a cold and obscure trail in her wake.

Yet here they stop for a while so that Aleina might change the dwarf's bandages and the others can eat what food they have. Heulwen does her best to mask their footprints while Lyr pulls a bit of bread from his satchel and pops it into his mouth.

Aleina strips away the dirtied cloth and peers at the wounds. The serious one, the one the Healer had tended to, is still bright pink, but otherwise should heal. The flesh wounds have clotted and will still need tending. She produces a few fresh bandages from her bag and begins cleaning the lacerations. As the water touches the dwarf's flesh, he begins to stir from his sleep and mumbles.

"Zirak-zigil ai-mÍnu. Baraz?" He grunts. "Aya BundushathŻr."