Outracing the Flames RPG

[Tevildo]

Tevildo's post

Leod had been replacing bandages, stitching up cuts, and simmering herbal remedies in several small pots hanging over the firepit, when he heard Meghan calling out in a worried voice. One look at Brand told him all he needed to know. The man's face was flushed; his hair hung limp, dripping with sweat. Fever! Undoubtedly high fever. That could only mean that the wound had gone bad. There was no time to lose. For the tenth time that day, the healer silently cursed that he had let others persuade him to push his patients forward without another day of rest.

Leod had Brand remove the clothing that lay directly over the wound so they could have a better look. What he saw deeply concerned him. Red streaks radiated out from the wound. There were several deep pockets of pus.

"Alright, Brand." The healer spoke in his gentlest tone, far different than how he'd sounded on the trail earlier that day. " Your wound has flared up. We're going to have to get it cleaned and then I'll lay down a honey potion. I don't know why, but the honey seems to draw out the bad spirits and start the wound healing again. I'm afraid this may hurt a little. Just hold on and we'll be done in a minute."

First, Leod continued to talk to Brand, explaining what he was doing to him. "This will be hot, quite hot. It's water and clove oil mixed, an excellent rememdy for cleansing. Just hang on for a minute."

"Next, you'll feel some pressure. I'll be cleaning out some of the infection....nasty green and yellow stuff that will do you absolutely no good." Leod was careful to drain out all the hidden pools, soaked the wound in the clove oil mixture for some time, and finally dried it.

"One last thing," added the healer, addressing both Brand and Meghan. "This will help. The honey came from my backyard. The flowers there were amazing. It took years to figure out which ones were best to grow, but the honey the bees made from those flowers was unusually potent in the healing of wounds." With that explanation, Leod took out a bandage and placed a generous amount of honey on it before wrapping up the wound.

"Well, Master Brand, you're not going anyplace tonight. And, as for tomorrow, I am not at all sure. If necessary, I shall stay here in the woods with you and Sythric, and give you two some extra time to rest while the group goes forward. Sometimes this honey works quickly. At other times, it may take a while. But if your fever is this bad in the morning, I will personally sit on top of your chest and enlist Dorran to do the same to prevent you from going anywhere!"


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Nogrod's post

For a short while Sythric had felt somewhat energized as he had been allowed to leave that gods-forsaken sledge and stand up. Even the trouble of getting over the bog had been refreshing variation to just leaning in the sledge and getting all his parts sore and aching. Sythric would have loved to try riding after the crossing, but Leod’s gaze had been firm enough for him even to dare suggest it. And in the end, he knew that Leod was right. He wasn’t a man to ride.

Leod had stiched his wound as a first thing as they had reached the camp. Even though he was still under the spell of Leod’s painkillers, the stiching operation was extremely painful. Sythric had to bite his teeth not to yell in pain. Leod had allowed him a last sip of his wine before he started. The rest was to go on cleansing the wounds, his own to begin with. After the operation he was bandaged once again, although the bandages were the same he had before, stained with dried blood and mud. After bandaging he was hoisted to lean against a larger tree beside the fireplace so that he could follow what was going on. Fion brought him a bowl of broth and smiled encouragingly. Sythric thanked him for the broth. The smell of it made him realize his hunger. Well, this can’t be too bad, if I’m still hungry..., he thought to himself, smiling inwardly to the irony of his own thoughts against what he actually felt. Fion stood aside him as he took the first spoonful of the steaming broth. Sythric looked at him to the eyes, smiled a little and said. “Leod told you to see if I can manage this? Well, tell him that I can. You should do better by helping him with the others. I’ve been taken care of enough already for this day.”, with that he winked an eye tio Fion and nodded. Fion smiled hesitatingly, unsure of what to do, but Sythric’s nod gave him relief – and by a nod he went after Leod who was tending Vaenosa.

The easterling had been a skilled swordsman, and his blade had been truly excellent. It had cut through his leather armour like paper, breaking at least his ribs. Leod had said nothing about his organs and Sythric hadn’t wanted to ask about them. The wound started from near his armpit and went down his side almost to his waist. It was a vertical, sharp and clean cut. Like it’s been made with a carving knife! A dull orcsword would never do anything like this, no no... He suddenly remembered the last time, indeed the only time he had been really seriously injured before. It had been his second last year in the riders.

Two orcs had been coming onto him. He had parried the one to his left with his shield, intending to swing his sword against the one coming from his right. That had been a bit too ambitious move. The hit on his shield had been powerful enough to unbalance him just enough to miss his swing with the right hand. The blow to the right side of his chest had hitten him with almost full force. Had his sword not have hit the orc’s sword just ever so slightly, killing off some of its momentum, he would have been dead by that one. If that orc would have had the sword of this easterling... I wouldn’t be here to remember it.

The orcswords are mainly heavy and dull. For someone wearing any quality armour they basically produce concussion-like hits – if they come through. Sythric had broken some ribs back then too and had some internal bleeding, but his armour was not penetrated and the bleeding had ceased early enough for him to survive. After the battle he had been taken to the nearest town in a carriage with other woundeds. Then he had laid a full week in bed, not being allowed to even stand up. It had taken another week before he was given a permission to try riding.

Now it seems a bit different. This surely is worse than that one, and we dont have even a cart to carry myself and Brand. And how about Vaenosa? How is she faring? Then he heard Meghan calling for Leod in distressed voice. As he looked to the other side of the fireplace, he saw pale and sweating Brand sitting, Meghan holding him with an agonized look. Leod rushed to them and started tearing Brand’s shirt off, looking very worried indeed. Oh Brand! I hope you are not going to die! You are a good man!, for a while Sythric just stared towards the fire blank-minded. We’re not going to ride anywhere tomorrow, you and I, he kind of addressed Brand in his thoughts. But maybe some of us can, and send a cart to us then? He took another sip of the broth, deeply in his thoughts that seemed to move ever so slowly. But could we make it here until you come back, for it would take several days at best – or would you come here just to pick up our corpses...?