Author Topic: The assorted bits of Aldrakar Renodin's Life  (Read 22091 times)

Renodin

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Re: The assorted bits of Aldrakar Renodin's Life
« Reply #15: October 17, 2013, 05:40:59 PM »
The old Word file keeps giving. The following RP I wrote in the aftermath of a battle. A border skirmish is perhaps a better way of putting it though. There were about 9 or so nobles involved, both sides counted.


Arrows and Stitches

The flame licked and leaped over the long and curved metal needle. A hue of red appeared and faded away again as the needle was taken out of the flame by the bald and wrinkled man. He deposited the flaming branch he had used back into the fire again and walked over to where Aldrakar sat on a stool. Producing a piece of wood from his apron the old healer proffered it to Aldrakar. It once served as a piece of a sword handle but it more than sufficed in it's new capacity. ''Put this in your mouth and bite on it.'' The old healer instructed Aldrakar.

Looking from the piece of wood to the healer's hand with the needle Aldrakar gulped and did as he was told. Before putting it in his mouth he noticed several bite marks on the wood probably from previous patients. A fleeting thought skirted the edges of his mind as he questioned the proficiency of the healer. The sharp pain in his upper leg dislodged any musings from his mind as his jaw clenched firmly onto the wood.

The old healer's tongue was slightly protruding from his mouth as he tugged on the string to pull the two pieces of flesh of Aldrakar's leg together, absorbed in his craft. The wound wasn't as grievous as that of some of the other men but it needed stitching for a sword had found him and slashed this flesh. A D'haran blade wielded by a bow-legged bastard who struck him from the side. He hardly saw the D'haran coming and if it wasn't for the man standing next to him that pushed him out of the way the D'haran's blade would've found his gut. Sadly Aldrakar couldn't reward the soldier because in the action he was stabbed in the neck himself. Aldrakar unconsciously gripped the edges of the stool with his hands and willed his fingers to burry into the wood, the sharp pain returned at the hand of the healer.

The assault on the D'harans in Girich seemed to go well at first. They deployed in good order and with both Lord Xerias and Lord Ezra in position. They unleashed their missiles on the D'haran infantry and Aldrakar moved with the peasant militia in tow. There were arrows everywhere. There was a small rise where the D'harans had set up their own archers, so many archers. Aldrakar reflected on the melee, it was short, nasty and bloody. The peasants were shredded but not in vain. The D'haran infantry was pinned by the militia and Aldrakar's men flanked them, charged and slammed into them. Missiles from Lord Ezra caused mayhem and soon the D'haran infantry broke. Not before one of the bastards left a little gift with Aldrakar though. ''Gnnnnngghh!'' Aldrakar half grunted, half groaned. The healers needle efficient and remorseless.

With the D'haran infantry routed the hard part had come, the march up the low rise where their archers were stationed. They crowed the small hilltop with their numbers and from their ranks a never ending barrage of arrows descended upon us. First they decimated Lord Ezra's men. Screams could be heard from behind his lines Aldrakar recalls. Ezra's men were dying, he recalls calling out to his own men. ''Make them pay those filthy cowards!'' something along those lines. Grunts and soft murmurs greeted him.

Lord Xerias shined at this time as they returned fire on the D'harans on the hill and they did brilliantly. It was less glorious for Aldrakar though. The bitter memory still very fresh from just one day ago. First from a short distance they fired into our lines. Their bows were not particularly strong but there were so many arrows. Shields simple didn't catch them all. The last bit was the worse, we could practically *see* them smiling at us. They jeered us and taunted as they unleashed their final volleys. Nearly point blank, they shot straight into our lines. Many shields held but several were already damaged or broken. Arrows punched through shields, skewered arms and pierced lungs. The men ground to a halt as they tried to hide behind their shields. Shields started to be dropped as men died and all sense of formation evaporated.

They ran, it wasn't ordered it just happened. We were too slow to advance, we were sitting ducks.

''Aaaaiiigh! Careful!'' Aldrakar snapped at the old healer. He only got a weary look from the old man that all but pacified Aldrakar with its weight in experience. The old man tugged a bit harder on the string than actually needed for the final bit and tied it off neatly. ''That should do it. Now don't run around and give it lots of rest. If it doesn't inflect and ooze puss in 2 days you are fine, if it does. It's up to the Stars if you life or not.'' Wiping his hands on a dirty rag the healer continued. ''If it gets red around the edges take some Distlefoil tea.'' The last bit the healer said with an arched eyebrow and in a half-hearted tone as if it didn't really matter what Aldrakar did if it the flesh turned red around the wound. Red meant inflamed which was a prelude to the yellow puss.

So Aldrakar sat on the simple stool, camped in the mud of an hastily constructed camp in Mattan Dews. The battle of yesterday in Girich lost and with many wounded, dead left behind and vengeance of his mind.