The trip back to Sukiskayn is surprisingly uneventful, especially considering the great cacophony of noise presented by no less than forty horses and a wagon moving down a beaten path and then through the open grass. Taras begins to worry as the sun reaches the horizon and you are still some hours away. You all begin to tense up as you realize that it took you far too long to get back. You half expect to see smoke rising up once again and all your friends dead.
However, no such takes place. In fact, judging from the smoke rising from the fireplace and the loud talking you hear coming from inside the settlement's walls, things are going quite well. It appears that Petr has managed to rework a bit of the northern palisade, though it is structurally unsound. As you bring the horses in, he comes charging out to meet you, a broad smile on his face. Behind him you see the family, all looking much better than they did this morning and much better rested than you all are. Also you see those you left behind. Matteo, Urak, and Krige all come forward. All three look to be in better shape than they were. Krige and Urak particularly seem to have profited from the rest and presumably Mama Kuzma's healing touch, though Krige sports a quarterstaff as a crutch.
Also, however, there are several other men present, whom you do not recognize. Two appear to be twins, with bald heads excepting one lock of hair coming down the back. They are young men, short, and somewhat odd-looking. Another is a middle-aged fellow, well-muscled, with white hair. He bears a sullen expression. A fourth is tall and blonde, a bit gangly. He stands separated from all those there, and seems a bit uncomfortable. Standing alongside Petr is a muscular blonde fellow with a huge grin on his face. He seems to be an old friend.
Petr gestures to his son and speaks with him briefly in the unknown language you all heard when last they were together. Petr frowns slightly, then smiles, obviously proud of his son. He turns to all of you, "Come, we have much to celebrate this night! He clasps the blonde fellow by one arm and his son by the other and marches into the main hall. Therein you see that Darya and Alfana have prepared some food and drink. It is amazing how different the hall looks when so prepared. The north door to the kitchen still stands in ruins, but besides that, there is little sign from inside that the place was under siege less than one day ago.
Rhune looks at each of the newcomers. She smiles at them and then smiles at her friends as she that they are alright. "Petr, some of our friends are injured. Can you help us with them please? And Sam is dead. We need to bury him. Someplace nice," she says sadly as she climbs from the wagon.
Petr nods, his happy expression fading briefly, "Of course. I am saddened at your loss. My family would be honored to bury your little friend alongside those members of my clan that died in the same honorable fashion." However, this news is not enough to keep Petr down for very long. He says some unfamiliar words to the muscular blonde, who speaks to the two young men who look identical. They move forward along with the sullen white-haired fellow, and begin to carry the injured and Sam out of the wagon and into the pantry. Mama Kuzma waits therein with a worried expression on her face.
Looking up at the strangers, "Well met. I am Rhune Morthaine," Rhune murmurs in a very weary voice.
Xania, still in a rather quiet mood, stays back and does not speak. She helps settle the horses--her new mount as well as those belonging to her companions and to Taras, into their respective stalls or corrals.
As he watches the weary procession enter the settlement, the stranger shifts nervously from one foot to the other. Standing a short distance away from Petr and Gregor, he waits to see the mood and temperament of the returning group.
When he hears the one named Rhune ask for assistance for her injured comrades, he looks anxiously to Petr and Gregor. He immediately goes into the hall and returns with healer's bag.
Warily approaching the wagon and it's host of large, heavily armed men, the tall stranger raises his right hand in greeting, "Hail and well met, I am Augustus, m-may I be of assistance t-to your friends?" A distinct nervous quaver in his voice causes him to stutter over his words.
Standing a few inches over six feet in height, the one called Augustus moves like a mastiff puppy that has not quite grown into his legs yet. His wispy blonde hair is windblown and he is constantly brushing it out of his face.
His countenance is quite forgettable, save for his piercing gray eyes that seem to absorb every detail of everything that he looks at. Especially the huge swords and other weapons that the newly arrived group is wielding. He appears strangely nervous around the new group.
Rhune is a very small elven woman. She has curly silver hair and deep purple eyes. She is very good looking. At the present she definitely looks as if she has been in a fight as her leather armor, pants and tunic all have rents and tears in them that reveal a great portion of her lightly tanned flesh. She does have a sort of Arab looking cloak on though.
Looking up at him she smiles at him, "Thank you. I would appreciate and I am sure that they would as well," she says in a voice heavy with weariness. She steps aside slowly and with difficulty to let him do his job.
Asif groans as the bones of his shoulder grind and his stretcher is lifted from the wagon. His mind fights for consciousness, trying to remember where the hell he is. Through eyes blinking in the harsh light of consciousness he sees a stranger bend over him. A huge blond haired Frank with piercing gray eyes scrutinizing his shattered left shoulder.
Pain makes his thoughts difficult as he begins to speak through parched lips, words the stranger could not possibly understand.
"Khallik balak Efendi" (ooc translation - Take care friend) Then seeing the look of incomprehension upon the fellows face he begins to whisper in broken Italian. "Efendi, well not I. Why not I killed like others? Value not I, for my enemies. Die not I like slave." Asif with what little strength he has tries to rise, unknowing that he is amongst friends.
Augustus attempts to gently ease the dark-skinned man down onto his back again, which is not easy, for even with injuries as serious as these, he is still quite strong. "Please my friend, you must lie still...I need to look at your wounds." Augustus checks the hastily applied bandages and attempts to take stock of the damage to the man's arm. His nervousness seems to vanish as he methodically examines the man's torn shoulder.
"Why you give such aid to a prisoner efendi. Slave shall I not be to these heathen Catoliks. Let me die like others, I beg thee."
As these words pass through Asif's lips, his mind fights for comprehension of what is going on, as he hears voices in conversation outside. One voice he vaguely recognizes as that of a friend. Still, seeing only the stranger and the confines of a wagon once owned by the foul horse trader, he is unsure.
"Fear not, your friends are nearby...and though you have lost much blood, you shall live, and live free...if my skills have anything to do with it," Augustus says to the one called Asif. "You need fear nothing from me, even though I wear the robes of the Catolik church, I am not one with their way of thinking...now be still so I can treat your wounds, please."
Rhune, who is walking next to the litters, "Asif, please, you are not a prisoner. We are all safe." She is worried about her friend and the look she gives Augustus reflects that.
Asif's eyes look towards the comforting voice of Rhune, and through parched lips a long sequence of questions bursts in rapid succession. The words strained but firm in meaning.
"Aten be praised. I though the worst. Why sleep I in horse trader's wagon? Why her men I hear speaking outside? I am confused and feel not well. What of others? Is that viperous women our prisoner? I told her the wrath of the gods would befall who if she continued in such an dishonorable way. By Aten tell me why a catolik tends me. I understand not!"
Rhune looks at her friend. "We won, by your Aten's will, Asif. Two of her men joined us and helped. The rest of her men lie back at their campsite food for the wolves, as does the woman. This man says he does not hold with what is happening within his church. He seems sincere enough. Rest now," she replies in a comforting, but tired voice.
Augustus lays healing hands upon Asif, at the same time cleaning his wounds and re-bandaging them with some skill, more skill in fact than any of the party has at such actions. However, the wound is severe, and though he manages to close the wound somewhat with his magic, it is still grievous. The only effect of his magic that is very noticeable is that Asif appears able to rest easily, as he goes into a deep slumber. The two bald strangers are instructed by Taras what to do in the same language you all have heard them use, and they grasp the makeshift litter and pull him upstairs and into the western wing, Taras' quarters, where he is laid peacefully upon Taras' own bed.
Next, Augustus turns his attention to the young woman, "Rest easy, fair one...I will not harm you." He examines the young woman's wounds and says to those nearby, "These two must be moved inside, please...gently."
"Be careful with her," Xania remarks, coolly from the horse she has chosen. She watches the stranger with Marika carefully.
As the two men have already begun moving Asif, they nod their heads, gesturing and indicating that they will return. In the meantime, Augustus uses his considerable talents on Marika. The effect of his magic is quite impressive, almost completely closing the nasty wound she took on her neck and healing completely all trace of earlier injuries.
Examining the two badly wounded figures, Augustus finds that one of them is a dark-haired, dusky-skinned young woman with a fairly horrific sword slash just to the left of her throat. She doesn't awaken as he examines the wound, but at the sound of his healing ritual, she stirs slightly and opens her eyes. Unlike Asif, the other patient, Marika doesn't seem alarmed or even surprised at her healer's Catolik garb. The healer is glad for this, since any sudden movements could have aggravated her injury; then it strikes him that her lack of response doesn't speak well of her mental condition.
As Augustus completes his healing prayer, the wound closes partially, and some of the red streaks of infection that had been forming around it recede. Marika still doesn't speak, but her dark eyes show something that might be gratitude before they close and her breathing slows to the rhythm of deep sleep. She is carried in similar manner up to Taras' room, where she is laid upon the same (fairly large) bed.
If Marika understands the stranger's words, she shows no sign of it, although her eyes follow his movements for a time before moving on to track other nearby faces and the torches and lanterns of Sukiskayn. Once she is inside and her litter has stopped moving, she falls almost immediately into a deep slumber.
The tall stranger gently pulls back the sheet that covers the small form in the back of the wagon, a grim look crosses his face, and he utters something under his breath as he makes a small, quick gesture with his right hand.
"Thanks for helping my friends. This one is Asif and she is Marika." Rhune smiles at him as she follows the litters inside.
As the wounded are moved from the cart, Augustus replaces the blanket over the body of the small man. You do not know why you did not see this before, perhaps weariness from the road and all of the fighting over recent days, but you see that he is clothed in a common, dark colored robe, clearly travel-worn, but carefully mended. He is wearing simple leather sandals on his large feet. Perhaps it is when he made the small gesture over the body of the Sam, that you realize, to your disbelief, that you are looking at a Catolik Priest.
Augustus begins to follow the wounded as they are brought into the hall.
Rhune looks at him with some suspicion but as he seems to be helping them, "You are Catolik, are you not?" she asks politely but with a hint of suspicion in her voice.
Mildly startled at her words, Augustus turns to look at the elven woman. "I...yes, but..." He stammers briefly, then frowning darkly at the ground, seems to summon up some reserve, he looks at Rhune, "Yes, I am Catolik, but I have heard and seen things done in the name of Jebohah that I cannot abide..." He pauses, looking at the ground again, a shadow of some emotion, half fear and half shame crosses his plain face, he dismisses this with a shake of his head and blurts, "I am a priest of Jebohah, but I am not one with the way of the church... There is something twisted and wrong within its walls. I..." He stops and looks at Rhune's strange purple eyes.
"I am sorry..." he says, lowering his own eyes. Then quickly, he asks, "Are you injured? Is there something I may do for you?" He busies himself with arranging the vials and packets of herbs and powders in his healers bag.
"Yes, I am injured, but they need it more than I at the moment. I am just tired is all," she replies the suspicion gone from her voice now as she reaches out to touch Augustus lightly on the arm.
As she steps into the hall, Rhune looks around and suddenly sways, nearly falls to the floor. Her adrenaline rush is over with now and her exhaustion is taking hold. She reaches out go grab the door facing and then just sinks to the floor, where she just sits quietly.
Petr's daughter Irina sees the exhausted woman fall and rushes over to her. She grasps her by a shoulder and brings her upward. She is surprisingly strong for a girl of her age. Ignoring complaints, she gently takes Rhune upstairs and into the tower, two flights up and into a small bedroom with two beds. She lays Rhune's small form on what is obviously her bed. Further ignoring any objections, she merely says, "Idun's will," and backs out of the room.
Rhune had been entirely too exhausted to argue with her, allowing her to carry her to the room be put to bed. Smiling up at her, "Thank you. I am rather tired. And hungry," she says. She snuggles down in among the covers relishing the soft mattress. She tries to remain awake till someone has brought her dinner, but by the time anyone does they will find her sound asleep, apparently needing rest more than food.
When they reach the kitchens after their hard ride back, Jacobus tucks into the food heartily, when he is quite full he finds a comfortable spot to lie down and rest.
The others follow suit, though the strangers and the party members appear to be a bit discomfited, and there is clearly something to be told. However, the food and some rest appear to be the manner of the night until then.
The food is good, and plentiful, and the mood is a bit somber, but still more than a bit cheerful. The newcomer, Petr's friend, who introduces himself as Gregor, tells some rather bawdy jokes until Petr quiets him, as there are children present. However, those close can see that it put no damper on the man's cheerful spirit. After the feast, Petr informs you that the time for conversation must be after proper entertainment, as a good host shows to his company. Masha, the blacksmith's widow, rises and begins to sing. The words are unfamiliar, but quite beautiful. She accompanies herself on the balalaika, an unfamiliar stringed instrument. After a bit, Alfana and Taras begin to dance, showing a lack of ability but great enthusiasm. As Petr seems proud of them, the party tries not to laugh or cringe.
Throughout the meal Xania remains cold and aloof. She pushes some food around on her plate, then abruptly stands and leaves the table, quite rudely. She wanders out toward the stable and spends some time with the horses there.
>From his resting place Jacobus watches Xania leave to tend to the horses. He stands wearily and follows her. "Perhaps you should share what troubles you? I can be trusted to keep most secrets," he says as he stands at the stable door. "It is hard to take someone's life is it not? I myself regret having to kill the man I fought before, I spared his life but in the end he left me no choice. If there is something troubling you perhaps I can help?"
"I don't like to kill," replies Xania simply. "I feel as if a part of my soul dies each time I do it. Yet it has to be done sometimes and for all the bold warriors we have with us--I saw none of them willing to do the task. It is nothing, Jacobus, just that I am not good for much banter and polite behavior afterward. My apologies for my rudeness."
Jacobus smiles, "We are all close companions now, I don't think you need to apologize." He moves into the stable and sits down. "My father once told me that it takes a brave soul to create life and nurture it, he also said that to take life takes an even greater bravery."
"For us all it is a necessary evil, we are being directed by forces that I neither believe in or accept. It is our fate. There is nothing we can do to change that."
Xania nods. "Yes, I know. I am a creature largely of expediency, but I don't always like what I have to do. Killing in the heat of battle does not seem as...hard for some reason. I have never thought myself an executioner, and, if I had my way, would never touch a weapon other than magic. Perhaps if I live to be more powerful." She shrugs.
He smiles at her, "The more powerful you become the more responsibility will rest on your shoulders. These early experiences will temper you into a fine mage, I think."
"But to get us through the ordeals we are surely to face, we need to draw from each other's strengths, if you have need of my strength then it is yours to draw from."
He sighs, probably letting more of his character show than he intended. "They are beautiful horses aren't they?"
Xania, glad of a change of subject, nods. She picks up a brush and begins to curry her new steed's already glossy coat. The horse seems glad of the attention--or at least it doesn't mind.
Jacobus smiles. "She likes you, I don't think you should worry, according to the nomads from the Steppes horses are great judges of character. They naturally seek a bond with their rider, they look deep into a person's soul and reads it like a book. You may never find another where such a bond is formed, I think you have found your horse and it has found it's rider."
"He," says Xania, smiling slightly.
Jacobus leans slightly to the right and looks at her horse. "So it would seem. My mistake, he has found his rider." He laughs, "Now why doesn't that surprise me." He stands up. "I'll leave you two to get better acquainted." Jacobus moves to the stable doors and turns, "If you ever need someone to talk to.."
"Jacobus," Xania says softly, "thanks." Her eyes never leave the horse.
He moves out of the stable and makes his way back to the Hall.
When the impromptu music stops, grandmother Kuzma rises and begins to tell a story of the settlement's beginning. The family appears raptly interested, though the tale is more than a bit boring. However, there is a bit of adventure, and even romance, as Kuzma tells of her relationship with Petr's father, and she proudly tells of her strong sons working long days to finish the place. Gregor, who was not terribly interested in the rest of the story, seems somewhat bothered by this part, and rises to refill his glass, not returning for several minutes.
He returns near the end of Kuzma's story, which she leaves unfinished with the notation that she must work on something about the momentous night previous and the recovery of the horses. Just as the group hopes to get down to business or get some sleep, Petr rises, clearly a bit inebriated, "I did not show you my home properly last night, but I will show it to you now!" He begins a bit of a tour of the place. Almost all of which he shows you, you have seen before, but you listen with feigned interest as each decoration on the wall seems to have some tale or other behind it. The only item of particular interest in the tour is a strange tapestry that hangs upon the walls of the great hall. It is a type of art that none of you has seen before, with strange geometric patterns that make very little sense. Petr tells you that it is ancient and very valuable, but has no idea what it is or its meaning.
Finally, you all settle in the hall to discuss what to do now. Matteo speaks first, "Urak, Krige, and I have spoken and decided that at least one of us must return to Arezzo and then Florence to see what news the Bishop has of us, or indeed what avenues he is using to further his power. With the new muscle you have brought back from the Horse-thief, you can more than afford the absence, and we understand that fulfilling the bargain made with Petr's brother is very important. However, you do not need all of us to make that happen. I for one am leaving, though I will certainly miss you, and I hope to return to you with more information, or at least return with all my body parts attached. As for my companions, they have not made up their minds."
At the mention of Petr's brother, Gregor coughs, but allows Matteo to finish. As the party and Petr soak in Matteo's news, Gregor speaks up, "I had hoped to keep this news until the celebration was over and everyone had had time to rest, but it is clear I must speak. We too were attacked by the same goblin clans that attacked you, one day previous to the attack on your settlement. We were not so lucky to have a warrior group on hand, and my lumber camp was burned to the ground, the men either killed or taken as slaves." As the others appear sympathetic, he shakes his hand, "No, this is not my point. We all know what dangers building and working in this dangerous area are. What is the point is that we had company on that night. Kalanos the boatman and his crew, along with your brother, Stephan." As Petr looks intently at Gregor, he continues, "We don't know what happened to Kalanos, but his crew were mostly killed, along with most of my men. However, several were captured by the goblins and taken, either as food or slaves we do not know. Your brother was among them. I only know for sure that he was alive when we fled. I do not know if he is now." He ends, clearly quite unhappy.
Forte's stomach churns a bit at the thought of goblins eating humans. His face betrays his queasiness, but only for a brief instant.
Petr's cheerful mood entirely fades, as does that of most of the family. He speaks to them in the foreign language, then abruptly rises, "Beds have been prepared for you all to sleep here tonight. Please make yourselves as comfortable as possible." Those who are extremely exhausted go to sleep, and Taras goes upstairs into Petr's quarters along with Alfana. They can be heard speaking late into the night. Meanwhile, Gregor gathers together the most fit of you, Forte, Leslie, Augustus, and any others that volunteer, along with his men, to keep watch. Rough bedrolls are arranged on the floor of the hall, which allow those of you that are tired (almost every one of you) to sleep, though not with much comfort.
Augustus does not speak to anyone except to thank them for the food and the shelter as he retires to the small bed that was prepared for him. He knows that he is not worthy of even this minor gift. He kneels in silent prayer to Jebohah, giving thanks for the blessings of the day, and asking Jebohah to grant him the healing ability for use on the coming day.
He lies down to sleep, but cannot readily. Staring at the beams in the ceiling until his eyes will not remain open, he drifts off into a restless night of fitful dreaming.
Xania returns as they are asking for volunteers to watch. Though she is weary, she also knows she will not sleep, and volunteers for a watch position.
On the morn, the settlement's ladies prepare breakfast for the rather large company of men now staying there. Gregor and the others report no sight of trouble throughout the night. As Petr and Taras still have not come down, the party and Gregor and his men eat quietly. You all are happy to see Marika and Asif come down to join you. Kuzma has attended to their injuries and restored them to full capability, though she regrets that she used all her magical healing abilities, along with those of her granddaughter Irina, on her family. Matteo, however, wishing to use his talents before he departs, heals Asif back to fairly good strength. He then tends to Jacobus, but finds his magic's effects rather meager. The night's rest did the man more good than the magic. He uses his final spell on Rhune, but the effects are similarly weak.
When Matteo goes to find Rhune to heal her, he finds her still asleep. Apparently the tiny woman was more exhausted than anyone knew. Lying there buried to her chin with the quilts he finds her smaller and tinier than he thought she was. For all the world if she were human he would think her a child, no older than a 13 year. Her eyes flicker briefly as he does his healing spell on her, but do not open. Her wounds seem more severe than originally thought.
Rhune appears to have taken some rather nasty injuries over the last two days, whose effects have not fully shown themselves until now. Urak makes the rounds as well, casting two healing spells upon Ullar and bringing him back to full health, and then a third upon Rhune, which still does not give her back her strength, though it improves her somewhat.
This time Rhune does open her eyes and smiles when she sees the Urk. "Thank you, Urak." And then seeing Matteo there, "Thank you also. What time is it? Is it time for dinner?" she asks them oblivious to the fact that she has slept the night through. When they tell her this she sighs, "No wonder I am so very hungry then. Is it alright if I get up now or do I have to stay in bed?" she asks them.
As Matteo and Urak have no objections, Rhune gets out of bed. "Marika, Asif. Are they alright?" she asks them as she reaches for the cloak that Asif gave her. She is going to have to find some other clothes to wear.