Deathsworn Arc: 02 - The Verkreath Horror

by Martyn Stanley

  “Truthseeker, I am sorry, but I require the use of this table.”

  Brael looked up; he looked defeated, broken almost. In some respects Vashni didn’t feel she quite understood why Elira’s death had hit him so hard. He was clearly cut up by it though, far more so than the recent deaths of Harald, Silus and Callen. Of course there was the fact that she was a gravian, and also the fact that as a gravian she would have expected to live for centuries, to the magical races human lives were bound to seem short and in some ways the shortness of human life perhaps lessened its value. Brael took a deep breath. “Help me bear her to the floor.”

  “Of course.”

  Slowly, carefully, they gently bore her to the ground and deposited her under the shelter of the roof. Vashni gestured to the table. “Brael, help me drag the table away from the window and towards the fire.”

  Soon the table was in place. As soon as it was she turned to Saul, “Wizard, can you muster a mage-light? I need to see what I am doing.”

  Saul looked shattered, he stood though and took a moment to gather his thoughts and focus his concentration. “Racha... Vorrow!”

  The dim mage-light flickered into life and hovered above the table. Vashni looked at it in dismay, it was not a bright light, and its brightness reflected Saul’s exhausted state. However it would just have to suffice. She looked to Votrex who was starting to look weak and pale and patted the table. “Come on master dwarf, hop onto the table, it is time.”

  Votrex dragged himself to his feet and clambered up onto the table with some help from Vashni. “Lie on your side Votrex, I want the wound facing up.”

  “Aye.”

  He positioned himself on the table, lying on his uninjured side. Vashni leaned down to his ear and started whispering. After a few minutes she sighed in frustration. “Your will is strong Votrex, unless you can embrace my words, and submit to me completely - my whispers will have no effect. Trust me, I can save your life, but you need to allow me to.”

  She started again, and Votrex tried to wholeheartedly embrace her words, taking them deep into his being. As he did, he felt himself slipping away, becoming separated from his physical form and his painful injury, she was effectively locking him in, as he felt less and less connected to his body she changed the whisper and he was soon falling into a deep, deep sleep.

  She stood up straight and retrieved from her small satchel a pair of scissors and a small, sharp, brilliantly bright dagger. She quickly used the scissors to cut his tunic away where she needed to work. Saul had re-taken his seat, he looked to her now. “Can we help Vashni?”

  “No, just keep your mage-light going. I need to concentrate.”

  She held up her bright-steel dagger and whispered to its edge, honing it to the very pinnacle of sharpness. When it was ready she placed the tip in one edge of the wound cause by the arrow, and drew it down, making the wound larger. As she did, Brael stepped up to the table. “I am familiar with anatomy Vashni, let me help.”

  “Very well, when I have expanded the wound hold it open so I can see the lower layers.”

  She pulled the dagger up, opening the wound in the other direction and Brael placed his fingers under the skin and pulled the wound open. He looked at Vashni. “You are through the skin and fat layers, now there are two layers of muscle each with the grain running diagonally in different directions. You should cut with the grain so it heals better, and doesn’t compromise his movement.”

  “Impressive gravian, I am surprised you are aware of this. I did know though - I have done this before.”

  She cut the next layer following the grain of the muscle, then the next layer of muscle following the newly revealed grain, with Brael stretching open each layer. Once the intestines were visible, the whole area was swamped with blood. Brael shook his head. “He is losing blood, fast.”

  “I know, I will whisper it back in.”

  She leaned into the bloody mess and whispered, gradually the pool of blood lessened as blood forced its way into capillaries, venules, arterioles and veins. As it drained away she saw the damaged parts of intestine. The small intestine had been gashed open in several places, severed completely in one, and the large intestine had a slice almost severing it. She leaned in to the open wound while Brael held it open and started holding pieces together and whispering. It was a slow process, dwarf intestine was slippery in her fingers and rejoining the severed section of small intestine took several attempts. Even as she whispered the slice in the large intestine back together the whole area was foul smelling, with rancid looking fluid gathering in the cavity.

  She sighed tiredly and looked up to Brael. “I need to whisper out the escaped intestinal fluid, and infections. Keep the wound open for me.”

  He nodded and she leaned in whispering and whispering. As she did the liquid flowed out of the wound and onto the table. After many, many minutes of whispering the area was clean and the impurities and intestinal fluid was gone. She looked up to Brael, “Release the lowest layer, I will whisper it shut, as I whisper each layer shut allow the next layer to close.”

  He nodded and she began anew. The two layers of muscle being whispered together one after another, then the fat, then finally the skin. By the time his wound was closed at the skin layer Vashni was almost swaying, and pale again. She finally whispered into his ear for a few moments and he regained consciousness and feeling with a cry of anguish. “Urrngh! Ishar! That hurts!”

  Brael helped him down from the table, wobbling himself. He supported the dwarf as he helped him into the corner by the fire and they both slumped against the wall. Brael’s injuries were severe also, as were Korhan’s, but Vashni was clearly completely spent. Saul and Korhan hauled themselves off the bed and gestured for her to take it, which she did willingly, taking her cloak out, rolling it up and placing it at one end to use as a pillow. Almost as soon as her head rested on the makeshift pillow she was asleep, exhausted mentally and physically. Her hands needed attention from the gruelling spider jumps up the shaft, as did her own arrow wounds, which she’d taken just before entering the smithy. Brael and Korhan too were in a bad way - she simply had nothing else to give though and any further attempts at healing would have to wait until she was rested.

  The rest of the companions, rolled their cloaks up, or used their small satchels for pillows and took places around the fire. Before long the whole party was enduring a restless, sleep, punctuated by twinges of pain and recent wounds opening up, if they tossed and turned. The normal protocol of having one person keep watch was forgotten, none of the companions having the energy to stay awake.

  The Calm After the Storm

  The companions slept for the rest of the evening and most of the night, except for the brief moments of pain from their injuries when they accidentally moved. The rain was relentless through the night, under normal circumstances they would never have been able to sleep in this draughty, derelict cottage with the sound of rain trickling off the broken roof, but sheer exhaustion meant they were all thankful of the rest.

  Vashni woke first; her hands were rough and scraped from the ordeal of climbing the shaft. Before doing anything, she held them up to her lips and began whispering, softly, melodically with a renewed energy and rhythm. The process she was initiating was for her skin to replenish itself at an accelerated rate, and for the damaged, dried, rough skin to fall off. After a few moments her hands were as good as new. The rain had finally stopped. She stood and decided to explore this abandoned settlement alone, so she headed for the door. As she crossed the threshold she cast a glance at Elira lying still on the floor. She stifled a tear, what she had been through was more horrific than she would have imagined a person could endure. Her travels with the companions were softening her up she mused. She hoped, Brael was wrong, and that Elira’s spirit had found peace, but something, something told her not to discount the possibility that Brael was correct. Existence suddenly seemed very bleak, but at least as an elf she didn’t have to fear death by old age. Elves were known
to live for millennia and though several centuries old, she had a long life ahead of her, provided she could prevent her enemies from taking it. For short-lived humans the thought must have been terrifying, almost as soon as they were adults, they were growing older and weaker and approaching death, few would see sixty winters. For a moment she considered Tubol and Tavion, given this new information, was the thought of returning to Eldenizar to hold court any more appealing? After a brief consideration she decided not, life without any risk, or interest wasn’t really a life. Life, as valuable as it was, was for living. Repeating the same mundane tasks day after day for hundreds of years wasn’t living, it was existing, and she decided she wanted no part in it. If Tubol and Tavion caught up with her again, she would resist them with whatever means she had available at the time. Thankfully they did not swoop down to steal her away as she walked out into the morning light.

  As she exited the cottage she looked around, the settlement looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. It looked dwarvish in origin, with short doorways and small windows. It made sense of course, Beren’Gedt Holt would have required livestock and animal produce, so of course dwarves who were skilled in animal husbandry would dwell on the surface, trading their wares down the well and acting as a means of communication and a trade channel with the human and elvish surface settlements nearby. She decided to search the other cottages, and the nearby grounds. She hadn’t eaten properly for days, if she could find something to cook in and some edible plants, she would attempt to rustle something up for the group

  After searching the other cottages thoroughly, she managed to salvage a dented old cooking pot with a bent handle. It had seen better days but it would suffice. There were a couple of wooden bowls and spoons in a crumbling old dresser too. Whoever had lived here appeared to have left in hurry, though in truth the items that had been left were either damaged or old and appeared to be worth nothing. After gathering up these items, she wandered back outside into the daylight to forage for some food

  It was a chilly, but pleasant, dry morning with a light breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. She felt so happy to be out of the ground, being in the Warren had felt confining, enclosing, imprisoning almost. As she explored she found a walled enclosure around the back of one of the cottages. Upon closer inspection it appeared to have been a vegetable garden. As the settlement had been abandoned in a hurry, there was a hope that there might be some edibles within. It was overgrown and untidy, but after searching through the undergrowth she managed to find potatoes, carrots and onions growing. Carefully she removed some from the earth with her dagger. Then went to make her way back to the companions, on the way out she noticed a clump of edible mushrooms growing in the shade by the wall, so she picked a good handful of these too

  Votrex, Brael, Saul and Korhan were sitting up, awake but still tired when she returned. There was a time when her return would have provoked comments of surprise that she hadn’t simply abandoned them, but now she was greeted with a chorus of tired, pained, mutters of ‘good morning’. The embers of the previous night’s fire had burned down to ashes now, so she dropped the pot and bowls on the hearth and gathered some of the unused kindling, then began building a new fire. Before long it was done, so she gave the kindling a short whisper, causing it to burst into flame. When she started heating water in the pot, and chopping up and adding her ingredients, the mood lightened somewhat. They’d not had a decent hot meal since they’d dined with Tam Briarly in Duramer. Votrex particularly was soon licking his lips. “Hmmmm, a nice stew, that elf, is an excellent idea. We should go see if we can catch a rabbit or similar to throw in it would-”

  Vashni glared him. “I will not have you sullying my soup with the flesh of dead animals! I’m surprised you even thought of it, given the experience of our late gravian friend, Elira. Besides which Votrex, I am forbidding you to eat for the time being, you may take sips of water and no more. I expended a great deal of time and energy repairing you last night, your digestive tubes need time to heal further, I will not have you ruining my good work by trying to eat before it is safe.

  Votrex deflated somewhat. “Aye lass, my thanks for helping me, tis still sore and I feel quite queasy, but I will live.

  She smiled at him now. “Good, I will tell you when you may eat again. For now try to rest.

  As soon as the ingredients were chopped up and in the hot water Vashni retrieved from her pack some little containers. Which appeared to be spices or similar. When she uncapped one and started sprinkling a white powder in Brael raised an eyebrow. “Salt?

  “Yes Brael, had we needed it I would have distributed it, I am glad I saved it though, this broth would have been rather bland had I not.

  She added a little pepper too, and some red powder, which none of the others could identify. In time, the pot was bubbling away nicely and the aroma of freshly cooked food was filling the derelict dwelling. While she waited she whispered to her own arrow wounds which had not properly healed. When the broth was ready she poured it into bowls and distributed it about the party, giving each a spoon also but keeping the cooking pot for herself

  Votrex of course did not take a bowl. The rest of them tucked in silently. It was good, surprisingly good considering it was a dish without any meat in it. The fact was, they were all too tired and too hungry to complain. Brael was the first to comment, looking at Vashni and waiting until he had her attention. “Thank you, tis a fine soup lady Vashni.

  Vashni, who was spooning broth into her mouth smiled. “I am glad you like it Truthseeker.

  Korhan ate ravenously, and was the first to finish. “Brael is right Mir§a Vashni, twas a fine meal.” His voice sounded somewhat distorted by his broken nose, clogged up with dried blood. As Vashni emptied the cooking pot she placed it down neatly on the hearth and stood up. She strode over to Korhan, grabbed his chin and scrutinized his bloody, caved in face. At the centre it was a mass of dried coagulated blood, and his once handsome nose was flat, the cartilage clearly completely crushed. “I need to repair your nose Ri§ine, brace yourself, this will not be comfortable.

  Before he could complain she leaned in, so she was right in his face, whispering, so, so quietly almost inaudibly. After a few minutes he felt the cartilage in his nose start to reform, working itself back into the position it originally held. Korhan groaned in pain and moved to put his hands on his nose, but Vashni grabbed his wrists. “Do not touch Ri§ine! You will interfere with the process! Keep still!

  The grinding and reforming continued for a few moments, so painful it reduced Korhan to soft, rapid panting, and straining against Vashni’s grip. Then suddenly it stopped. Vashni peered this way, then that, then smiled. “Tis done Ri§ine, if we find a stream you should wash the dried blood from your nostrils, then you shall be able to breath through your nose again. Hmmm, I ought to do some work on your other injuries, and the others.

  So she spent the next hour flitting from warrior to warrior, whispering to their wounds and repairing their damaged tissues. By the time she was finished, she was exhausted, and had to lie down on the bed

  Korhan at this stage stood up and beckoned to Votrex. “Can you walk? We should have a look around and try to ascertain where we are exactly.

  Votrex grunted and hauled himself to his feet shakily. “Aye, I can walk, she did a good job, hunger pangs are paining me more than my injury now.

  Stepping out into the light Korhan looked from derelict building to derelict building. “I wonder what this place was?

  “Looks like a dwarven small-holding, or small surface village. Look at the size of the buildings, they’re to dwarf scale. There had to be a lot of these in the days when dwarves were more prominent, in order to feed the many mouths labouring below the surface.

  “Do you know this place?

  “No, I don’t recognise it, but I suspect, hmmm, let me get my compass - I believe we can establish our rough position by finding North, we are definitely South of Strak by at least a few miles, given how far we’v
e walked. We must also be west of the Great Divide, given the greenery and the fact that we know, we’ve moved west.

  He fumbled in his small satchel attached to his belt for a few moments eventually withdrawing a small brass compass, the glass was broken and the needle was missing. He looked at it and groaned. “Gah! It must have been broken in the fight!

  Korhan scratched his now stubbly chin. “Hmmmm, can you not fix it?

  “No, the needle is missing, it is quite fragile, even if i could find it, it would be too damaged.

  “Then we should just follow the road which looks like the most main road - surely that should lead to the capital?

  “Hmmm, possibly, there is another way we can find north. Tis a sunny day, if we can find a straight stick we can use the sun to find north.

  Korhan cast his eyes around eventually seeing a broken, half rotted section of a pick handle lying in a pile of rubbish. He strode over and grabbed it, before returning to Votrex. “Here.

  “Right, we just stick this in the ground here, as vertical as we can. Then we mark the position of the tip of the shadow.

  He stabbed the broken shaft into the ground where it was soft enough and used his dagger to make a deep score where the tip of the shadow fell. Korhan watched with interest. “And now?

  “We choose a road, follow it for a bit, and come back and see how the shadow has moved while we’ve been busy. The shadow will move in a curved line from the west to the east, as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. When we return we make another mark where shadow falls and draw a straight line between the two points, we can then establish which way is north from the line.

  Korhan nodded, it made sense, he wouldn’t of thought of it himself, but the logic was impeccable. He looked at the overgrown tracks which led out of the courtyard of derelict buildings. “That road, it has not been used for some time, but it is wider than the others and it has deep ruts in it as if caused by cartwheels, it must lead to the main road.