Alt Much?

Life and times of a MMORPG Altoholic

Nano – Day 16

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D16 Target: 26,667
Word Count: 17,598
65% of Target

Not much tonight but I’m just not feeling inspired. RL is kinda hectic and killing the creative juices – to be honest there wasn’t much there to begin with 🙂

************************
Rathebourne dismounted along with the rest of the squad as Burn, or Tamin the issue seemed confused, approached the soldiers that were busy clearing the Demimonde bodies to the side of the road. He noticed a female soldier tending some of the wounded off to one side. They all wore the livery of the Army of the twelve provinces but not Underspur. They were most likely a patrol out of one of the numerous towers that ran along the boarder with the Hollow Lands. He dismounted and made his approach, taking note as the elf maiden, Talia, silently dismount and follow him.

“May we be of assistance? I am a priest, and the maiden behind me,” Rathebourne turned and nodded to Talia, “Is trained in the magical arts.”

The woman who had been tending the wounded rose quickly and bowed to the acolyte and the elf. She was covered in blood but most of it wasn’t hers. She pointed to a prone figure dimly lit by the torches. His head was wrapped in bloody linen that was mostly read. There were two more soldiers but they were seated. One had an arrow in his shoulder and another had one in his thigh.

“Blessed be, yes please. Tormin here took a nasty hit to the head. Jorn and Krasim’s wounds are minor and I’ll see to them until you finish your healing.”

“Ok, let me see what I can do. Talia, thank you for your assistance. Please assist with the other two soldiers.”

Rathebourne bowed and began the chanting that would bring healing magic coursing through his body. He never felt closer to the Gods than when he was in the rapture of prayer. He chanted a prayer of healing which caused a finger of golden light to form gently in a spiral around his hand. Placing his hand on Tormin’s head, he willed the light to suffuse the wound. The light brightened briefly then died down. Tormin’s eyes fluttered open and the once critically wounded soldier let out a sigh.

Rathebourne then turned his attention to the other two soldiers. Talia had pushed the arrow through the troopers shoulder and the medic was attempting to do the same to the other’s leg. It was nasty work but ork arrows were ment to cripple and maim. Pulling them out an entry wound would do more damage than simply pushing the projectile through. She had left the shafts in place which helped slow the bleeding.

The priest knelt down next to the soldier with the shoulder wound. It had been pushed to the fletching leaving a good bit of the arrow exposed above the arrowhead. Grasping the exposed section with both hands, he gave a wink to the soldier who was watching him with apprehension.

“This will hurt just a bit.”

“Alright, let me get my breath and AARGH!”

Rathebourn had snapped the shaft. Moving quickly, he grabbed the arrow by the fletching and pulled it out. A spray of blood was staunched as he intoned a chant to stop the flow of blood then started the prayer that would speed the healing of the soft tissue. The soldier was still in a bit of shock when the priest patted him on the shoulder and moved to the next wounded trooper.

The medic was looking up at him expectantly. The leg wound was worse than she had thought. The arrow was lodged deep, possibly right next to the bone which made it more dangerous to move around. Rathebourne knelt down next to the man and started to unwrap the bandage that she had used to stabilize the arrow.

“That one will have to stay I think. It’s near the bone. I tried to push it. Krasim didn’t even scream. He just passed out.”

Talia nodded and added, “My magic won’t be of assistance here. I can knit a wound back together slowly but this wound is beyond my capability.”

“It will be ok. I have just the thing I think. I never understood why our order taught this prayer to we acolytes but now I think I understand.”

The priest gave a wink at the elf then started to softly chant. The shaft of the arrow began to glow with the same golden light that marked healing prayers. Slowly, the shaft started to change. The fletching fell off as the end split from the notch down to the shaft and reformed itself into a circular handle. Rathebourne grasped the arrow handle and gently pulled. The arrow emerged smoothly, it’s broad, jagged head encased in the wood that had been shaped around it. Handing the transformed arrow to Krasim, the priest stopped the bleeding and healed the wound as he had the other soldier.

“Marvelous, simply marvelous.” Talia was beaming at the unique application of such mundane magic.

“That is a rather useful prayer, I will have to remember to thank Mendicant Bryer for teaching it to me when I get back.”

Standing up, he noticed Burn (or was it Tamin) approaching. The flame haired trooper had a smile on his grime encrusted face. It was good to see a smile. It had been weeks since he had seen a smile or even smiled himself. It would be months before he would be able to let that emotion grace his face but it was good to see it on others. The tracker clasped the elf briefly then addressed them both.

“We are in luck. This squad had come upon some orks attempting to set up an ambush here. It would seem our ork friends were not content with persuit and instead tried to flank us. The squad leader has agreed to escort us all the way back to Underspur. We should reach there by the twelfth hour of the moon. We’ve made it Rathe, we’re on our way home.”

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Written by Ventris

November 17, 2010 at 3:15 am

Posted in NaNoWriMo

One Response

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  1. Don’t sell yourself short – this is a good story. I liked the way your rationalized the “Shape Wood” prayer 🙂

    Minor nitpick – it should be “us acolytes”, not “we acolytes”. I know that probably sounds strange, but it’s correct.

    iridar

    November 18, 2010 at 1:59 pm


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