Most importantly for the travelers, each has each recently received a message from a Librarian named Dancer, requesting a meeting to discuss the possibility of doing a job for the Library. Each found it odd that the requested locale for the meeting was not the Library itself, but rather a small and rather nondescript inn in Strangerside run by (and catering to) refugees from the realm of Delta. Then again, even getting into the city of Everway proper is a pain in the neck for Strangers and Outsiders - especially at night - so perhaps it isn't that surprising after all.
The inn itself is not large, and is fairly common for its type. A sign out front shows a fish man with a rather horrified expression on its scaly face and proclaims the place to be the Drowned Fish. There is a large common room, a stable, a couple of private rooms downstairs, and some rooms for nightly rental upstairs. As the place is by the Sunset River near to the entrance to Shimmermoon Bay there is also a small dock out back, and many of the patrons apparently arrive by boat. The place is decorated with fishing nets and other maritime paraphernalia, and the menu is exclusively seafood. The Delta patrons are on the whole quite large and well muscled, and have the rather desirable characteristic that they keep to themselves. In fact, as the travelers enter, the patrons pretty much make a point of ignoring them. Nobody is rude, and it seems to be a matter of "we really don't want to know".
Upon arrival the proprietor, a huge, rolly-polly man with a shaved head, directs you to one of the private rooms. It is little more than a small room with a table and a couple of benches, and is lit by a couple of torches and a small fireplace.
Gale orders some fish and vegetables to be served to her in the private room, as she has been out since the noon-time meal and has not yet eaten. She also orders and carries with her a flagon of fruit juice.
Anyone who is present when she walks in observes a slender, dark-haired young woman, dressed in good-quality but slightly worn travel clothes. She carries a floppy hat in one hand; there are various feathers stuck in the brim. On her shoulder is a white crow1.
["Oi, watch who you're calling a crow - it's a raven, IF you please."]
She looks extremely tired, and slumps onto one of the benches and puts her feet on the fender. She nods greeting to anyone in the room. The corvid [Ravens are a member of the crow family, so you can just keep your beak shut, IF you please] hops off her shoulder and explores the room. Anything remotely edible is inspected and probably given a peck. If it is edible, it immediately gets swallowed.
Gale has been in the sphere of Roundwander for some time. She has worked for both the Crookstaff and Weaver families, and has been given the right to guest with the Hosts. As she is rarely in the city, she has not yet outworn her welcome. When not adventuring, she earns her living as an herbalist and healer. When in the city, she is often found in Strangerside, visiting the sick. During the day, she may be found in the transient sector of the Market unless she is making a delivery to one of her regular customers.
Shortly after Gale's arrival, another person shows up. As he stands in the door, looking as though he's not sure he's in the right place, there's plenty of time to get a good look at him. He's obviously quite young, maybe in his mid-to-late teens, but he stands over six feet tall. His skin is a deep brown with a hint of gold, almost like he's been very well-baked. His shoulders are broad, maybe a little too broad, like his proportions haven't finished settling yet. He's dressed in durable, simple pants and shirt -- workman's clothes. The torchlight gleams off his bald head as he looks around the room.
Seeing a seated woman, he steps into the room, carrying a large box by a handle on its top. Setting the box down, he bows towards her and says, "May th- I mean, a thousand times have you given me shelter. I am Shaper Ironhand." He looks around dubiously. "Is this where, um..." He seems at a loss for words.
Gale replies, somewhat tiredly, "A thousand times, Shaper Ironhand. I am Gale, called The Wanderer. If you are referring to a meeting, then this is the place. I would suggest that you order food if you have not eaten - the crisped smelts are very tasty."
Ironhand walks over to the table and carefully sets his box down next to the end. "Oh, yes, good idea." He stands around for a moment, then heads back downstairs, muttering "Crisped smelt...crisped smelt..." under his breath, as though he weren't familiar with it and was trying to remember the name.
He returns a few minutes later and promptly begins wandering around the room looking at everything, a little nervously: walls, fireplace, torchholders. Since there really isn't very much in the room to look at, pretty soon he sits down at the table and appears to take a great interest in its construction as he waits for his food to arrive.
Once his food arrives, Shaper eats it rather cautiously at first, but then develops some enthusiasm for it. Keeping a very cautious eye on the bird, whose inspection of him left him staring back at it, Ironhand removes a few bits of fish and carefully sets them aside in the direction of the bird.
Upon finishing his meal, Shaper is left with the bones. He looks at them intently for a while, then picks them up and walks over to the fire. He spends some time doing something that's mostly blocked from sight by his body. Eventually he returns with a bone wristband of some sort, which while clearly made from a number of smaller pieces, still seems to be all of one piece, not strung together. He inspects it for a few moments, then puts it down by his plate.
Hesitantly, he clears his throat. "Um, I don't mean to bother you, but do you have any idea exactly who else we're supposed to be meeting here?" While Gale is the only other person in the room, the question still ends up sounding like it's being offered up for anyone who chooses to answer.
SnowWing inspects the bits of fish, and gives a resigned Caw!, and eats them.
[Not eyes, but I suppose he's trying to be nice...]
After Shaper gets up, he nips smartly over to the the abandoned plate and investigates in case there's any debris.
"Presumably we're to meet whoever summoned us at the very least....." Gale nods towards the wristlet. "Unless you don't mind SnowWing playing with that, I suggest that you put it away." SnowWing gives an indignant Caw!
[I don't play with my food!]
Shaper shrugs and half-smiles. "I've no problem with him --her?--playing with it. Plaything is as valid a use for it as decoration is."
Gale yawns widely. "Although if our host doesn't turn up soon, I'll need to take a room to get some sleep, as I don't really want to walk back to my quarters half-asleep."
Having by now finished her meal, she shifts position so that she is sitting stretched out with her feet on the fender, toasting her toes. "If I fall asleep, please forgive me. I don't mean to be rude, but it's been a very tiring day for me."
Shaper nods and sits quietly, tracing patterns on the table with his
finger.
The stranger coughs slightly and begins to speak "I am sorry to be late but I had some trouble. I am here now and you should know me as Serpentslayer. Tell me what has been missed by me?"
He shuffles uncomfortably for a few seconds before noticeing a chair where he sits with visible relief. He appears a little shaken.
Shaper gets up and bows toward Serpentslayer, though he doesn't quite get the traditional handgesture right. "A thousand times you have healed my wounds, Serpentslayer...I am called Shaper Ironhand."
Serpentslayer looks unsure about the greeting though he does his best to mimic the bow. "Ironhand is a name of honour and I am glad to be met by you."
Shaper nods toward his plate. "The only thing you have missed has been dinner. The Crisped Melt is quite good. No one has arrived yet to meet with us, so you might get something to eat as well." While Ironhand was himself quite nervous and unsure, he seems to feel a lot better now that someone even more nervous-looking has appeared.
Or perhaps fear might be a more appropriate way to categorise the look on Serpentlayer's face; though he does appear to be trying to keep it from showing, he doesn't seem very good at hiding his emotions.
"I would have venison if some is hereabouts, otherwise I will eat cow." He gathers some food and glances about the room. "If our Host-tribe have not come forth then perhaps we should cross tales amongst ourselves. What brings the two of you to this place?" He gestures broadly about him with one hand while the other begins to pick at his food and mumbles, "I wonder what our host-tribe wants with us."
Shaper shrugs uncomfortably. "Actually... I gather that all they have here is fish. Fish is interesting...it's meat, but not much like either mutton or goat. Or venison or beef, for that matter. As for our hosts...well, I guess they'll show when ready. We're in their city, not our own lands." A slightly confused look crosses his face. "Well, not my lands, anyway."
"Nor are my lands here but I will eat of the fish of my host-tribe," comments Serpentslayer.
"And for bringing me here..." continues Ironhand. "Well, a message with an offer of a job brings me here here, if that's what you mean. If you mean more than that, well, I set out to see the world and instead found myself seeing a lot of other worlds, and then I just sort of found my way here. And yourself, whichever meaning you meant?" As his sentences tangle themselves up, Ironhand starts talking faster and faster, until he finishes all in a rush.
Serpentslayer nods. "I was lured here with talk of jobs also. My question is this: what skills have you," he gestures, "or you? What would our host tribe want us for? As for the Long-tale, I too travel many worlds. I flee from those called the Saquata to find many places to hide and raid. It was them that made me late."
Serpentslayer's speach is punctuated be sweeping gestures with his right hand while his left hand absently picks at food; he finishes by placing a small piece of fish in his mouth and after chewing on it briefly he grimaces.
"You are right, Shaper, this is not much like deer or cow at all!" With that he settles to eat.
"Skills?" repeats Shaper Ironhand. "Well, I've practiced at many of the arts of Making... smithing, pottery, carpentry, weaving...and the like." One gets the distinct impression he was starting to go down a long list. "I'm no master of any, though I'm a bit better at smithing and pottery. I wasn't taught any of the more fleeting Makings, such as farming or cooking, though. I've no idea what they'd want me for, unless it was to fix something... do you have any similar skills?"
Serpentslayer thinks for a second. "I can make arms, though no better than any man in my tribe-that-was, and I can armour, though worse than most. In my Tribe-that-was women cooked and made pottery as was their way. I can hunt but not farm and I know nothing of the makings you call pottery, weaving and smithing. I can carve wood better than most so our host tribe may seek those who shape tree flesh. Fixing was usually not done in my tribe, if you broke a spear you made a new one, so it was with most things as it is usually easier to replace something than to remake it."
Gale stirs and wakes.
"Oh, did I drop off? Forgive -" she sees the new arrival. "A thousand times. I am Gale the Wanderer, and this is my companion SnowWing," looking under the furniture and in the rafters and beams for him.
"Greetings Gale and SnowWing," salutes the newcomer. "Honours
to your tribe. I am called Serpentslayer. Return to your Dreams
if you wish; we have only traded past tales and you have missed no important
things."
Both are around seven feet tall, both have skin the color of ebony, both are well-muscled and have shaved both scalp and chin. They are dressed simply in unadorned clothing, and neither carries any apparent weapon.
When anyone attempts to speak, one raises a hand to forestall any conversation. Neither makes a sound, save for their breathing which is calm and relaxed.
Serpentslayer's hand begins an almost lethargic crawl down the back of his chair towards the spear that leans against the wall behind him. He is doing his best to obscure his motions with his body. He does not draw the weapon but seems calmer to have it at hand
The closer of the two men glances at Serpentslayer and shakes his head once. After a few seconds of looking at those inside the room, one reaches over and gestures with one hand into the hallway, still never taking his eyes off those inside the room. A few seconds later another figure enters.
The third arrival is much smaller than the first two - perhaps five and a half feet tall, and is both robed and hooded, though the evening is not particularly cold. The style of dress is anonymous, not identifying the character as being from any of the families of Everway.
To Gale's sensitive eyes, the two men at the door are emanate some sort of strong divine energy. They are certainly not deities, or any form of divine creature, but they have just as certainly been touched by the gods.
Also, there is something wrong with them - an illness or injury perhaps. It is hard to gauge the exact extent, but it appears serious. In demeanour they are quite calm - almost in a meditative state.
The woman is marked by magic, but that magic is fading even as Gale watches. In contrast to the men the woman is quite agitated - not angry, but very upset - as though she has been through some very disturbing experiences recently and isn't used to that sort of thing.
The figure moves easily, suggesting youth, but upon entering a wrinkled hand reaches up to pull back the hood - then stops as the figure regards Gale. A woman's voice filled with both despair and hope issues from within the cloak.
"Mercy?" the voice says, "Mercy? Is that you?"
Gale turns around looking for this Mercy person. When she sees that nobody sneaked into the room, she turns back to the woman, and says, "Who or what is this Mercy? My name is Gale, called the Wanderer. The only others present are my companion, SnowWing, Shaper Ironhand, and SerpentSlayer." As she speaks, she indicates the others. "Are you the one who summoned us?"
Shaper looks up and starts to say something as the giants enter the room, but promptly shuts up at a look from them. He sits back and clasps his hands on the table in front of him, apparently quite content to just sit there. His brow furrows a bit when Gale is addressed as Mercy, but smooths again when she responds. He looks from face to face, waiting to see who will speak next, somewhat resembling a puppy wondering who will throw a ball to it.
Finally Serpentslayer seems to come to a conclusion; he stands and addresses the elderly woman.
"I am Serpentslayer of the tribe-that-was. Are you the Song-Mother of our host-tribe? If you are she, I thank you for the bounty of your land," he gestures at the food here," and ask how we may pay your hospitality." His ritual finished, Serpentslayer remains standing with an expectant look on his face.
The figure pulls away the hood, revealing a woman's face which carries some eighty years, yet is still sprightly. The astute will note that many of the lines around her face are laugh lines. The more astute will notice that she isn't laughing now. She looks hard at Gale for a moment, then places her hands before her face and bows formally.
"A thousand times," she says to the trio. "I am Dancer of the Scratch Family, and yes I am the one who summoned you here tonight." She turns to Gale, "Forgive my outburst - I thought you were one whom I have hoped to see for some weeks now. As one gets older and vision fails, the imagination sometimes tries to make up for the loss."
"Each of you has applied for a position within the Chamber Platinum of the Library of All Worlds. You each possess a very unique talent - you are able to walk the spheres. You are..." Dancer pauses, frowns, sighs, starts again.
"Choices," she says, "are like air. They are always around us and go largely unnoticed. But should we be deprived of either, oh how we miss them!"
"'I do not play well the part that I am cast in, but there is none other to fill the role. If the part cannot be recast, it must be rewritten.' 'Four Songbirds' act III, scene 4. My great, great grandmother wrote that play." Dancer pauses again, takes a deep breath.
"You are not here to be formally introduced into the Chamber Platinum,
though that may follow in time. I am not here as a formal representative
of the Chamber Platinum or the Library of All Worlds, though I have served
both since I was a child. You are not here because of any great skills
you possess, save the ability to walk the spheres. In truth you were
chosen completely at random, by me, from a list. You must understand
that this is not the way that things are normally done. Under most
circumstances there are prognostications and divinations performed, and
the applicant is studied for a time to ascertain whether he or she is acceptable
to the Library. None of these things were done for any of you, and
for good reason. How can one use prognostication when the auguries
lie? How can an applicant be studied when the watchers cannot be
trusted? No one vouches for any of you, but at least you know that
now - there will be no false promises. What you do may earn you great
rewards or no rewards at all - perhaps you may even be punished, I cannot
say. Too much is changing too quickly - that which is true today
may be false tomorrow."
"Since that time we have heard rumors of unrest on Temple - of a war between deities who made a pact to share that realm millennia ago. We have heard that at least one member of the party we sent was involved in this unrest. I also learned... no. I cannot say - what you do not know cannot be taken from you, and others lives are at stake. Suffice to say that I uncovered evidence that there were those within the Library and within the Palace who did not want the item to be found. Perhaps later you will help me bring them to justice, but even this is not why I summoned you here tonight."
"The gods meddle in our affairs. I originally called you here in order to send you to the realm of Temple to locate the group we had sent and aid or rescue them should they be in need. But this very night I have discovered that they have returned, and are even now at the Library - no doubt looking for me among others. By now it is quite likely that they have been taken into custody by the Librarians Militant. These gentlemen..." she indicates the two by the door, "need one in particular freed. I need them all freed. Tonight if possible. And removed to the Fortress of Chance in Strangerside. It is known that some of them have allies among the Mask Family who might aid them. It is my belief that at least some of them are indeed needed in order to retrieve the stolen item - I do not believe that the prognostications were wholly in error in predicting which Spherewalkers were appropriate for the task."
"You must know that I represent only a single faction within the Library - and that faction is not the dominant one at the moment, though I hope to make it so. Should you side with me and lose, your chances of joining the Chamber Platinum will be nil. You might even be brought to trial by the Plumes or one of the other families of Everway. Should you capture me and turn me over to the Library it is likely that you will be rewarded for your efforts. I will make my case to you, and you may ask me any questions you desire, but ultimately you must decide."
"I believe that without the return of this item, Everway faces a time of great trouble and unrest. Many may die. The city itself may be destroyed. Already there are murmurs of unrest here and there in the corners of Roundwander, and the quiet machinations of the various families are beginning to rise to the surface. And it appears that there is... another faction, with resources and motives as yet unknown, at work here. Strangers and Outsiders have been their pawns thus far, and their ultimate goal is unknown, but from all we have been able to discover they come from another Sphere - and not one of those directly connected by a gate to Roundwander."
" In as little as five years - perhaps less - I fear that the work of generations may be undone. I am old, and I will not live much longer in any event, but I have served the Library all my life. My first and foremost loyalty is there - even beyond that to Good King Emerald and Everway itself. I must do what I can, and do it quickly if I am to remain true to my own beliefs and loyalties, and to serve the Library as I believe proper."
"I believe that my faction, such as it is, is not without allies. I believe that the Masks of Everway will aid us - or at least the Sept of the Strangemasks in Strangerside. We are not without friends in the Crookstaffs either, and the Scratch family will support me. The Obeyers," Dancer indicates the two men standing by the door, "may be able to provide limited aid, but they are very few on Everway. Arrayed against us at the moment are the Emerald family, the Library, and the family of the Plumes. The Keepers, the Watchers, and the Crow will continue their historical duties, and since they are under the command of the Emerald family, it is likely that they will stand against us as well, at least for the moment. The other families of Everway are for the moment neutral in this struggle, but could fall either way. Other septs of the Masks may stand against us as well. Finally, there are the Shapeshifters from a differing Sphere. They are known to have taken an active hand in assaulting those who are seeking the stolen item, and they have access to dangerous weapons from the realm of Battlefield. Their exact motives are unknown, but I suspect they are hostile to both sides in this struggle."
Dancer turns and glances at the two men by the door. One nods fractionally. Dancer looks mildly shaken, but turns and continues.
"We have some time yet. I am certain that you have questions and
concerns. I would not blame any of you for refusing to join in this
mad escapade, though I would ask that you remain here until I have gone
even if you decide to report to the Library with your story of my offer.
If you have any questions that I can answer, please ask them now."
Serpentslayer grins displaying a set of very white teeth. "Rescueing your quest-brothers sounds like little more than wife stealing and for a look at the Library's books I would steal many wives. I will free your quest-brothers but first I must know what they look for and why your Library might wish a return of things that were stolen honourably?"
Gale gets to her feet. "Lady, a thousand times. I will have some questions for you later after I have seen to your companions." She turns to the Obeyers. "Gentlemen, I am a Healer. Please tell me the nature of your affliction so that I may aid you."
The pair glance at one another, then back at Gale. One speaks. "No," he says simply.
The other shakes his head, agreeing with the first.
Gale replies: "Why? I can feel your pain - is it a curse rather than a physical ailment? Please understand me, I only wish to help heal your pain."
The first repeats "No,". A trickle of blood seeps from one corner of his mouth when he speaks. The other merely shakes his head again. Dancer looks from Gale to the two men and back, clearly undecided as to what to do. She bites her lip and says nothing.
Shaper has been listening intently as Dancer has described the situation, an expression of confusion slowly growing on his face. Gale's exchange with the Obeyers hasn't exactly been helping either. Serpentslayer's questions seem to finally snap him out of his daze. As Serpentslayer waits for an answer, he decides to go ahead and put his thoughts in.
Clearing his throat, he says, "As for myself...I can't begin to follow this assortment of families who are for or against or maneuvering for gain, but let me see if I understand the basics."
He pauses, then begins counting off points on his fingers. "The purpose of a library is to gather the tools of learning in one place. Someone has stolen an important tool of learning, diminishing the Library, and so the Library needs to get it back." He looks around quickly at the others for support or dispute, but then goes on to his next point and next finger. "The Library chose a group to get it back, but some people don't want them to succeed. They have had a difficult time and have been captured." Another quick look around, and then he goes on to his third finger. "You'd like us to help them out."
He stares at his three fingers for a few seconds. "If I've got that right, the only questions I have are: who, exactly, are we supposed to rescue? Where do we rescue them from? And what do we do then if we do rescue them?" Again looking around for the others' reactions, he suddenly realizes he's still holding up three fingers and quickly clasps his hands together in front of him.
Serpentslayer grins again. "And how long do we have to question before we must act?"
Gale looks at Dancer. "What has happened to your bodyguards?"
Dancer looks back. "They are not... precisely speaking... my bodyguards. As for what has happened to them it is somewhat... complex. They will speak of it when they are ready." She glances at the two once again, and they regard her impassively. The bleeding one makes no effort to wipe away the blood.
Dancer shudders again and turns away from them, looking instead at Serpentslayer. "Before I answer your question, I need to know the difference between an honorable theft and a dishonorable one, if there is such a thing in your culture. Here in Everway, theft of any sort is usually considered dishonorable, though there are actions which certain other cultures might name 'theft' which are not defined as theft here. For example, manipulating the courts to gain a favorable judgment in a case awarding you money, land, or goods would not be considered theft so long as the manipulation was one which fell within legally defined boundaries."
Gale looks worried. She gets her satchel, and takes out a vial and a piece of cloth. She moistens the cloth with the contents of the vial and hands it to the bleeding man. "If you will not let me aid you, then at least wipe your face."
The man looks at her oddly. "The blood is shed for good cause," he says, "why should I hide it? I have no fear of blood. Does it bother you? If so, perhaps you should seek your employ elsewhere, for much blood has already been shed and much more shall be shed before all is through."
His gaze, and that of the other man, turn inwards, as though concentrating on some inner struggle. Both are now swaying slightly.
Gale sighs. She turns to the others: "I ask you to bear witness - I offered aid and my aid was rejected."
Serpentslayer musters one of his mischevious grins for Dancer. "If that be then I will steal both your friends and your things back for you."
Dancer nods. "The three you are to rescue are named Flamefeather, Shekkara, and Mercy. All three are members of the Chamber Platinum. If they have not yet been taken they will likely be found in the Chamber of the Four Elements - the area set aside within the Library for their group. If they have been arrested by the Librarians Militant they will be held in the basement facilities of that Order of the Library. If they have been turned over to the Plumes then they will be held at the palace.
"Flamefeather and Shekkara are both dark of skin, though not as dark as... these two," Dancer indicates the two men standing by the door. "Flamefeather is dark brown, and Shekkara is a somewhat lighter shade. Mercy has light skin, and looks somewhat like Gale," she points in the direction of Gale. "All three have black hair. Flamefeather tends to dress rather bar..., um, similarly to Serpentslayer. Shekkara wears robes with considerable embroidery and decoration upon them. Mercy dresses... casually."
"Difficulty arises in that it is after nightfall, so none of you are allowed within Everway proper. I would urge speed, but I also realize that making your way through Everway after dark will provide an extra degree of risk, and if you are caught you may be imprisoned yourselves. I know little of your capabilities, so I leave it to you whether to attempt this task now, or wait until daybreak."
The two men now seem to have sunk completely within themselves, and it appears all they can do simply to stand upright.
Gale says, "As it happens, I have a token from the Host Family that should allow me within the gates. However, I beleive that it will only cover myself, not any companions. However, I was planning to spend the night here, as it is now late and I have had a tiring day attending a difficult birthing. I understand that there are other ways into Everway proper, but I do not know of them."
Serpentslayer speaks up. "I am happy to steal now or later, and
though stealth is best under cover of night, I would not force my raid-mates,"
he gestures at Gale, "to move now if wearied. We will all need much
energy for a raid as this. Am I right in thinking that those that
have your friends will fight to keep them?" Serpentslayer cocks his
head to one side inquisitively and begins to remove the lizard hides which
serve as his armour as if preparing to rest.
"I will watch," he says quietly, "this I promise. You will speak, as we agreed."
The first man lies, gasping for breath for a moment, then the second speaks again. "All have integrity, all have drive in equal measure. The woman is wisest, and the young man most powerful." The man punctuates his comments by gesturing at Gale and Shaper respectively. He pauses to cough up some blood as well. "You are speaker. You must choose."
The first utters a low sound, half a sigh, and half a moan.
"In the name of the Walker," whispers Dancer under her breath, "this is madness." She turns to Gale and opens her mouth to speak, but closes it again without making a sound.
Seconds pass. The first man's breathing becomes more labored, and a rattling sound issues from his chest.
"I will live," says the second, "because I must."
The first man shudders and dies.
Shaper looks back and forth, obviously distressed. His hands clench and open, clench and open. When he speaks, his voice is low. "I don't know why this is so important...but I know it must be. I think we need to go tonight." As he speaks, he never takes his eyes off the fallen man.
Serpentslayer nods in response to Shaper's words and slowly begins to redress in his hides. "I have some things I would gather before we go but it will take me little time and if you wish we may be off tonight."
Dancer merely stares, plainly horrified.
The second man merely sits propped up against the wall. His body is shivering, but his face appears serene as he gazes upon the corpse on the floor.
The raven begins flapping about the room, cawing raucously and crapping indiscriminately.
Serpentslayer stops redressing and leans on his spear, waching the spectacle with a wry grin of amusement.
Shaper briefly stares in confusion at Serpentslayer, then turns away entirely. He picks up the bone wristlet he had earlier put on the table and begins working it, agitatedly.
"I left home to experience new things, but this isn't what I had in mind," he mutters softly.
Gale, who has been staring fixedly at the dead man, shakes her head abruptly. "SnowWing, shut up and calm down." She checks the downed man for signs of life, and then rounds on the other man.
"Right, my lad. Let's have no nonsense from you IF you please. Where are you wounded?"
She immediately inspects the wound. The Obeyer holds up an unsteady hand. Gale can just make out a shallow cut on the back, which has already stopped bleeding. It looks more like a scratch than a fatal wound.
"The weapon was a powerful one," he says matter-of-factly. There is a wet, burbling sound in his lungs as he breathes. Gale patches the wound up rather competently using salves and bandages from her medical kit.
She lays her hands on the hand of the Obeyer and concentrates. After a few moments the man's condition seems to improve markedly (he stops shaking and appears to gain strength). Gale's condition, on the other hand, seems to deteriorate, and she lets go of the Obeyer's hand and slumps, apparently exhausted, to the floor.
This is a MUCH tougher healing than it appears. It is as if there is an active, malicious, and intelligent force opposing the healing. Fortunately, the wound is small. Were it an actual serious wound, Gale doubts that she could have healed it. In addition, Gale actually feels that whatever it is that is causing the damage actively works on her, even as she actively works on it. Should she attempt to heal a more serious wound in the future, it is possible that the force behind it might actually be able to do her harm, or even kill her.
Shaper rushes over to Gale. "Are you all right? Can I get you anything? Food? Water? Wine?"
For the first time this evening, Serpentslayer seems to commit himself
to something, racing to Gale's side.
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