[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn had awakened at dawn, and had slipped from the manger to start a fire for breakfast and organize her thoughts. She wasn't overly hungry - not with thoughts of what they could be riding into for company. The MacLenan clan held the nearby territory and they had been the Hillrovers' blood enemies for at least a century and a half; a situation made worse by the MacLenans murdering Great- Uncle Seol, the clan piper before Brion, when he had been their prisoner. All because they were upset that he had played his pipes to warn his Chief that the fort had been re-taken by its rightful owners. Matter-of-fact, the road that her little group needed to take ran near that hillfort and she sincerely hoped they didn't hear Uncle Seol's ghost - he only played to warn Hillrovers of danger. All of which was why she needed to talk to her group. She knew that most of them had decided to seek the Star Dreamer, but that didn't mean they had to ride with the daughter of the Hillrover chief.
Laurelyn kept a watchful eye on the fitful fire and was grateful she had put away some dry wood the night before. The smoke from a badly-ventilated fireplace wafted into her face while she waited for her companions to stir within the shepherd's hut.
[Keir]
Whether it was Laurelyn's stirring of the fire or the stirring of the two baby rabbits that woke him he didn't know but Keir was aware of both as his brown eyes opened. He had planned on slipping off to the manger but when Laurelyn and Thomis left the hut he decided he'd wait till they returned. Obviously he had fallen asleep while waiting, just as obviously no one had discovered his two furry secrets. "Is it morning, Mistress?" he asked yawning. Perhaps he should tell her about his two charges he thought. Afterall, he couldn't keep them hidden forever.
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller looked up and smiled at the sleepy healer. "Just breaking, Master Keir," she said.
[Ulric]
Ulric awoke slowly, from a deep sleep filled with dreams of war and suffering. It was almost too dismal to be his own life, but it was.
The dim light of dawn filtered through his half opened eyes, and he stretched. His body ached all over, cold and still slightly damp from his hunting trip the night before. Even the fire had been no help in drying him completely. It was an aching body that cried out that it wished it had never come to the highlands... for war or any other reason.
He lay still for a while longer, wishing to wake up again and find himself back home and lying beside his wonderful Alvende... sweet memories taunting him as the chill left his bones.
He sat up finally, and rubbed at his eyes with cold fists.
"May light of sun give to our lives direction,"
he said aloud. His voice was hoarse with congestion.
[Maeve]
Maeve had been awake for a while -- the baby had fussed early, searching
for her breast, and rather than go through another argument with Fionn,
she had simply opened her blouse under the blanket to allow Rue to feed.
When the girl opened her eyes to find the dark-eyed Fhaolain sitting against
one wall and staring at another, she almost cursed with vexation; she had
hoped he had slipped out in search of breakfast or *something,* so that
she would have a chance to speak with the Hillrover
chieftain's daughter without him around.
They did not bother with "good mornings." Maeve sat up and handed the infant to him without a word, making certain she had rearranged her clothing to be appropriately modest. Without speaking, she stood and slipped from the hut, headed out for her morning wash, leaving him to change the baby's cloth diapers. Fionn, in turn, carried the child to the fire, his gaze following Maeve as she disappeared out the door. Kneeling by the fire, he unswaddled the baby and started wiping her clean
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho had awakened early, but had chosen to shut his eyes for a little while longer. That was, until everyone else started to move about making noise. With a simple thought of -no rest for the weary-, he gave up the pursuit of more sleep and began to stretch out his paws. He normally didn't mind keeping an adopted form, but this time he almost felt he had to maintain this one until he found out for certain that there was no danger from the newcomer. He certainly had not done anything thus far.
He sniffed the air and cocked his head to the side a bit puzzled. It was then that he heard the suckling noises from beneath the blanket. When she was done, Maeve handed off the baby to Fionn and stalked off. -She needs me- With that simple thought, Rudolpho fell in step with Maeve and only growled a slight "heads up" to Laurelyn as he passed by her to let her know his intentions.
[Laurelyn]
The storyteller sighed quietly to herself - many of her traveling companions were awake and she no longer could put off the discussion. She stirred the pot of oatmeal.
"Master Keir," she said, "I'll need to speak to you - when you're ready for breakfast, and once I awaken Jacques, Pierre and Daron." She sounded less than thrilled about the necessity. And she had not failed to note that Rudolpho - in wolf form - had trotted after Maeve.
[Jacques]
Jacques woke with a shudder and a sigh. It had been a night full of dreams he'd rather not remember, though from past experience he knew that to be futile. He patted at his crumpled jester suit pockets as he rolled to a sitting position - looking for something to take the memories with it.
And then he considered it would be better not to drink anything more until there was room.
He stood, and with a nod to the others, shuffled from the hut.
Fiend, meanwhile, had found himself a quiet corner, and was sitting staring at Keir with a curiously happy expression on his small face.
[Daron]
Daron awoke uneasily at the sound of the stranger's voice. Her green eyes widened with shock when she saw the ebony-handled throwing dagger clutched tightly in her hand. -By the Maker!- She shuddered, thankful that it was not bloodstained, and resheathed it under the back of her sweat-soaked green wool tunic. -Not _this_ time...- Her shaky hand pushed bangs made even darker by sweat back away from her face. -The dreams have started again...- The artist swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat at that thought...
An image taunted her as she shakily rose: that of a brown haired and eyed man. His features seemed to shift from uncommonly handsome ones with stubbled cheeks to those more elven-like and clean-shaven. Confused, she gathered her belongings and left the hut.
-A bath might clear my head,- she thought hopefully, walking towards the river.
[Maeve]
She wasted little time in tending to her bodily needs, stripping before she stepped into the cold water at the creek's edge with a shiver. Sand was the only scrub she had, and her hands the only cloth she used, to clean the smell of the shepherd's hut from her skin and her hair. When she heard the footsteps approaching, Maeve scrambled from the water, sweeping her clothes up in her arms to pull them on swiftly -- though she slowed somewhat when she saw it was the dark-haired woman.
[Keir]
Keir stared at Fiend with apprehension, certain the pup knew about the hungry little furballs. The smell of oatmeal was tempting, his stomach was as active as the tiny rabbits, but he rose and headed for the door regardless. "Back in a moment Mistress."
Walking quickly, he dashed into the stable and made a shallow nest in the hay. Under Beast's watchful eye he laid the shivering pair in the snug retreat. After relieving himself in the corner he returned to the hut, wondering where he'd get milk for them. -Perhaps oatmeal would do,- he thought.
[Ulric]
Ulric made himself as inconspicuous as he could in one corner of the hut. This was not entirely successful, given his height, but he had no intention of getting in the way just yet. The people of this land had at times been friendly, but perhaps he had just been lucky not to have been killed in his sleep last night.
He checked that he still had everything on him, and that his pack was still safe. The leather pack was old and worn, it's surface covered with dirty patches. He imagined it as an extension of himself now, and imagined he looked much the same. The difference was that he could clearly remember what the pack had looked like in its prime.
His green eyes glowed as he watched the strangers awaken and prepare for the coming day.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho had followed Maeve to the creek and had realized when she was about to tend to her bodily functions, that she intended to bathe. Taking the opportunity to get himself some breakfast, he hunted a couple of squirrels and mice as she tended to herself. He stayed in Maeve's vicinity in case there should be trouble. He heard the sound of approaching footstep and scented the air. He could could tell that it was Daron approaching. Moving quietly through the brush he closed the distance to where she was and came out slowly from the underbrush. He trotted over to her slowly and gave her hand a lick.
[Laurelyn]
'This discussion isn't starting too well,' Laurelyn told herself as she dished herself out a bowl of oatmeal, and noticed, with a grimace, the lumps that were suspended in the grey mush. She pulled over her pack and dug out a small, wrapped jar of honey, and hoped it would at least give some life to the taste of her breakfast.
She also hoped that Thomis would join her soon. A tiny smile touched her lips at the welcome memory of how warm his arms were about her.
[Maeve}
After several moments of staring at the strange woman, and the wolf at her side, Maeve made some final adjustments to her skirts and lifted her chin; she brushed past the other without any further acknowledgment of either of them. Just beyond the line of trees, she almost bumped straight into another of the newcomers -- the man with the broken and scarred nose, who had found Rue hidden under blankets in the hut the night before. He obviously had been making his own rounds circling the encampment, and nodded without saying a word. Again, little more than a glance before she stepped past him, and a suppressed shiver as he fell into step behind her.
"Lumpy oatmeal," Thomis remarked to Laurelyn. He didn't look to Fionn, who seemed more occupied with dressing the still-sleepy baby than doing anything else.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn gave Thomis a welcoming smile - followed by a mild grimace as she said, "Not exactly my best this morning I'm afraid."
[Ulric]
Realising that no-one was an iminent threat, Ulric rose and slunk off to the river to bathe and clean himself. He had no mirror and his knife was far from sharp, but he shaved as close as he dared. His clothing and armor lay dirty and tattered on the ground, and he looked at it reluctantly. It had long exceeded its life span and no amount of cleaning would make it feel better against his skin.
After he had dressed, he stared down into the rippling waters at his own face. It surprised him how little he had changed since his stranding - he did not look unclean or unhealthy (but for his clothes) though that was indeed how he felt inside.
He kicked his boot at the image and watched it disappear in a chaotic blur.
He walked back to the hut slowly, and as he walked past those who were assembling for their morning meal, he collapsed.
[Jacques]
Returning to the hut feeling somewhat, but not entirely, better, Jacques glanced around. And focused somewhat uncertainly on the image of Fiend sitting by the stranger - who appeared to be unconscious.
Fiend whined a little nervously, and then scampered over to Jacques who gave him a distracted pat.
"You know," he offered to no-one in particular. "I could have sworn everyone was awake when I left."
[Laurelyn]
"What the...," Laurelyn hissed, coming to her feet when she saw the big stranger fall, and moving to kneel by him. It took a minute to seek the pulse in his neck, and once she found it she said, "He's alive."
As she moved her hand away she felt something wet, where her hand had brushed against his filthy collar, and when she looked at the side of her hand she saw a smear of blood. With great care Laurelyn brushed his hair back and began to look at the back of his neck. To her relieve she saw that it was only a trickle of blood, but she wondered at how serious the partially-healed wound was that the blood seeped from. From what little she could see by just moving the collar she could see that the wound ran down his back. "Someone find Master Keir," she said.
[Rudolpho]
After greeting Daron, Rudolpho noticed the young woman was ready to depart. Trusting that she could take care of herself, and giving her her privacy, Rudolpho followed the woman again back towards the camp. They were almost there when he heard Laurelyn's exclamation. He bounded ahead to see the newcomer had collapsed and Laurelyn by his side. When she asked for Master Keir, Rudolpho tilted his nose to the wind and bounded in the direction Keir's scent originated.
[Keir]
The hafling paused near the hut door, uncertain whether he'd made the right choice in leaving the helpless rabbits alone. His stomach confirmed the decision and he trusted Beast would be protection enough. Stepping forward he nearly collided with Rudolpho/wolf. "Whoa, watch it! he cried, bracing himself for an impact that never came. Realizing the threat of being trampled had passed, he looked at Rudolpho suspiciously. "Where you going in such a rush?" -Not hunting rabbits I hope,- he thought to himself.
[Rudolpho]
Having found the halfling, Rudolpho sped towards him. He needed the healer urgently after all. He noticed from Keir's reaction that he thought he was going to get hit. Rudolph stopped neatly before him and gave him a growl/bark. Realizing that Keir might not understand what he meant, and time was off the essence, Rudolph reached over with great care and took Keir's sleeve in his mouth. He tugged gently, let go, ran in the direction he had come from and barked again. Just for emphasis, he ran behind Keir and nudged him from behind. Having done that he ran ahead and looked at Keir expectantly.
[Keir]
It was obvious that Rudolpho wanted him to follow him into the hut though what the rush was he didn't know. At least the wolf wasn't heading towards the stable. "Okay, okay I'm coming."
Seeing the others gathered around the fallen Ulric, Keir realised breakfast was going to have to wait even longer. "Here, let me look at that." he sighed as he strode over and began examining the wound. It was an ugly gash; long, jagged and several days old. His fingers could feel the heat from the infection and the swelling from the build-up of pus. He mumbled a curse about Big Folk and their stubborness. "I'll need hot water and clean strips of cloth... and could someone cleanse this in the flame for me?" He held out the green handled blade Jacques had leant him. All hope for a peaceful, timely breakfast was gone.
[Jacques]
Muttering something under his breath about showing proper respect for an artist's tools, Jacques took the long handled knife from Keir and grumped over to the fire.
It wasn't enough that his juggling knife had to be demeaned to cutting wounds... He paused on that thought. The knives had cut enough wounds in their time. Though they had been _clean_ wounds, he considered sourly as he passed the knife through the flames.
Apart from that time with the zombies. Or that ooze dripping slime monster in the caves. Or the ghoul with the blood of acid that had nearly ...
He harrumphed to no-one, and grumped back to Keir, handing him the knife without a word.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn had moved aside so that Master Keir could have a look at Ulric. When he had handed off the knife to be heated she asked, "How far gone is he with infection?"
[Keir]
"It's gone septic." Keir answered without taking his attention from Ulric. "Damn fool, it'll probably kill him." He traced the twisting gash as far as he could, the rent in Ulric's dirty chainmail restricting his search. "We'll have to get him out of this filthy thing first." Taking the knife from Jacques with barely a nod for the jester's assistance, he motioned to Thomis for help. Ulric was far too large for the halfling to handle as dead weight and he didn't want to contaminate his hands on the man's clothes.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn shook her head and got to her feet. Keir was right - such an untreated infection would probably end this soldier's life far surer than any fast swinging sword. She'd seen had enough clan folk and fisher kin die of infection, well after the wound had been inflicted. It wasn't a pretty way to go; raving like a moon-mad lunatic, burning to the touch, and smelling of rancid sweat.
She caught Thomis's gaze as he moved to help. Her's questioned what to do with this stranger.
[Thomis/Fionn]
Thomis knelt by the Hortus, hands moving quickly to find the stays that tied the chain mail onto the large, unconscious man. An ugly wound, he noted almost idly, and one that might have killed a smaller man days before. Carefully, he started to work the chain mail upwards from under the man's body -- stopping momentarily when the dark-eyed Fionn settled slipped his own hands under Ulric's shoulders to lift him up enough for Thomis to pull the chainmail free. "My thanks," he murmured, and set the armor aside. Fionna's 'ta tu failte,' he took to be a "you are welcome". "Anything else I can help you with, Master Keir?"
[Rudolpho]
Seeing that they had the matter well in hand, Rudolpho went to check on the other people around. He sniffed the air and ran off in Maeve's direction. He wondered if she would smomehow take advantage of the situation and try to leave. If she did, would she take the child with her? He wasn't sure. It didn't smell as if she had gotten very far yet anyway.
[Keir]
Keir rose and walked to the fire. "Not unless you wish to clean him too," he replied to Thomis as he threw some dried Shepard's Purse leaves and a few drops of a red tincture into the kettle of hot water and cloth stripes. He quickly downed a spoonful of lumpy oatmeal before drawing out the steaming cloth with the knife tip and returning to Ulric's side.
Slapping a strip on the cut, Keir rubbed gently. The caked-on filth gradually softened and smeared and it took a second cloth to wipe away the grime. Finally Keir could survey the extent of the damage, scowling as he traced the zig-zag pattern along the man's spine. It was a half-inch deep, at least at the entry point, and the blade had twisted as it cut down through the links of the mail; preventing the sides from closing and allowing the infection to sink in. A quick sniff confirmed the agedness of the infection. If there was any poison its odor was hidden by the stench of decay.
The healer carefully guided the knife tip along the swollen edges of the wound, cutting out the bulk of the rot and wiping up the pus with the cloth. "There is something you can do, Master Thomis, fetch the rabbit skins from last night's meal." His stomach reminded him again that that had been his last substantial meal and again he ignored its cry.
[Thomis]
"An easy enough assignment," Thomis murmured as he quickly gathered the discarded skins and brought them to the healer. Rough emergency aid, Thomis knew, but he was interested to learn how the Hortus would use the pelts.
[Ulric]
Ulric twitched, perhaps an indication of some pain seeping through his unconsciousness. Something about his slumped form indicated that he might wake up any time soon.
[Keir]
Keir continued to scrape as much of the gangrenous tissue as he could but, between Ulric's spasmotic movements and the small pockets of infection that lined the jagged wound, was only partly successful. He accepted the pelts without comment and examined the skins closely. As he thought, though it had been less than a day since they'd been separated from the corpses, flies had already taken advantage of the bits of flesh left behind. Using the knife tip he began flicking the tiny maggots into the freshly exposed gash from end to end. After layering several of the tincture-soaked cloth strips over the cut, he withdrew a vial of opague, viscous liquid. By spreading it along the edges and blowing on it the dressing was secured to Ulric's back. "There." he sighed, "That's about all I can do for him for the moment. Once he wakes I can give him something for the fever and the pain." He cast a longing glance at the oatmeal kettle. "Perhaps mixed in with some food, they're both rather bitter."
[Laurelyn]
"I'm going to guess that he's hardly fit for travel?" Laurelyn asked, glad that the maggots were now covered. The wound she could cope with, and she knew healers often used such insects for cleaning a wound, but it still made her stomach quiver. Nor did she want to look too closely at the lumpy, grey mess that she had made them for breakfast. "I'm loath to leave even a stranger to heal up alone in a traveler's hut, but all I can think to do with him is leave him in the nearest village."
Which would raise more than enough problems in and of itself - which revolved back to trying to let these folk know they would be riding through her enemies' territory. She pushed her auburn hair out of her face and stood up. "I'm going to try and round up the others," she said.
[Thomis]
Thomis glanced around the clearing -- with the exception of Daron, the rest of the party seemed to be present; even Maeve huddled off to one side, watching the maggot-procedure with her nose wrinkling in distaste. The babe, bundled in blankets at her feet, waved its fists in mid-air as if unaware that its mother ignored it completely. "I doubt he will sit a horse by himself," Thomis said quietly, without mentioning that none of them -- even Thomis himself -- could reliably hold the rather large man on a saddle with him. "Perhaps a litter, if you think it safe enough, Master Keir?"
[Keir]
The healer used the left-over water to wash himself and the knife, his mind so intent on the oatmeal he almost missed the implications of Thomas's question. "The next few hours should tell. If the fever breaks he can travel as he wishes." He wanted to add "and where he wishes" as he couldn't understand why Thomis would want such an obviously foolish man along.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho, having found Maeve and being secure
that it didn't look like she was leaving the group, poked around in the
nearby bushes for a bit. Finding nothing of interest, he returned to the
group and noticed Maeve and her attitude towards the baby. Rudolpho ambled
up to Maeve and licked her face a couple of times. He then unceremoniusly
flopped to the ground
by her and put his head in her lap, looking
up at her with a "pet me" look.
[Maeve]
Maeve froze as the approached, and became completely motionless when the
creature dropped its head into her lap. As Laurelyn passed, the girl
squeezed out between her teeth in the guttural language of the highlands,
"Please, could you make him stay away from me?" A "pet me" look he
may have had, but still he was a rather large and dangerous looking animal,
and the last thing Maeve Calhoun wanted -- other than the continued company
of Fionn Fhaolain -- was the animal's fangs anywhere
within 10 feet of her body.