Zion: Light of the New Moon, Ch 3.3 Myre
Zion - Light of the New Moon Chapter 3.3
Myre Graceless
The party is going to conserve magical and divine healing for the caravan, but healers will attempt to placate and comfort the Wild Landers.
I guess there's no way to say it in a positive way, Miri... I let them die. The Wild Landers that had attacked us could have had clean deaths if the caravan decided to use lethal force but, because they hadn't the tribe went through hours of painful convulsions. I suppose they could have lived a little longer if I'd given them some Grace, but that was really beside the point; there wasn't enough for Liam and keeping the Wild Landers alive another day or two wouldn't have made a difference in the long run.
The whole event took place before my eyes. The caravan's laborers had brought the incapacitated Wild Landers together. Some were shackled, some bound, and the more injured of them were put in the care of a healer. It was a worthless gesture, but I wasn't about to say anything... very few people knew enough about Grace addiction to notice all of the tell-tale signs, but I did. I also noticed that Liam must have known something was up... he was moving around through the Wild Landers more and more frantic, as if he was coming to realize that eventually his would be the same fate. Maybe that is what caught my attention.
I watched the black fox move from Wild Lander to Wild Lander. At first, I thought he was checking their pulse or breath but, after watching him rummage through the inside pocket of a tunic, I realized what was really going on; he could tell they were addicts too and he was hoping that one of them might have some left. The dose I gave him earlier in the day was a half-dose, and apparently it wasn't lasting long enough. The fact that he thought any of the strung-out junkies would have anything left made me realize that his judgment was impaired. So was his skill at observation, since he didn't once realize I was paying attention... not even when he did... it.
Everyone was focused on helping to restrain a convulsing wombat, a particularly large one, who was foaming at the muzzle and going through what I knew would be his last bout of activity before the end. Liam glanced at everyone and took a quick look around the campsite, but he never bothered looking back toward the wagons where I was. He knelt down next to a young bat, he couldn't have been very far into his teens. The bat was quaking in his restraints, shivering despite the warm afternoon. He was talking, incoherently, I think-- I don't speak their tongue.
Liam rested his paws on either of the bat's shoulders and spoke quietly. He wasn't speaking to the bat, I could tell that much. The young Wild Lander continued to struggle, stuttering out the words in his strange language, but his voice began to grow quieter and his fevered eyes calmly closed. I watched as the fox continued to intone the prayer, eyes closed, though thin tendrils of glowing gray energy seeped out of them. The bat took one final breath, and exhaled it slowly. Liam leaned forward, his muzzle hovering just over the bat's... and he inhaled deeply.
When the fox stood up, the weariness in his body seemed to have faded, and he was able to cover his shakes just a little better. Liam Mail knew the Sickle Moon prayers to ease the suffering of the dying. It was something that Lord Dalton had explained to me during my briefing, but he neglected to mention the fact that the fox also apparently knew how to harness the Last Breath. I'd heard stories about such things, but I'd never witnessed it. At that moment I remember thinking humorously to myself that I must have taken Liam's tremors from him because I found myself a little shaken.
The caravan had only traveled a few hundred yards after the combat; it was late afternoon and it didn't make sense to transport several dozen unconscious Wild Landers much farther than what would be needed to avoid attracting attention from beasts-- apparently camping on the site of a battle was the exact opposite of Bahrla's advice and, after the fiasco on the pass the other day, the caravan leaders decided to start heeding her. If she had made some progress with the teamsters, however, she may have taken a step back with Lady Marion.
"The Wild Landers were supposed to be taken alive." the human berated Bahrla.
"Most of them were." the minotaur woman pointed out.
"We didn't agree on 'most'." Lady Marion explained, "We agreed on all of them."
"I was not part of 'we'." Bahrla countered, "In fact, I was not consulted at all." The priestess opened her mouth to object, but the minotaur woman continued, "If you were concerned about killing innocents then you've done what you meant to do, congratulations... but the wolverine was not an innocent."
"Explain." Lady Marion directed.
"Jurughl, the wolverine, was these peoples' chieftain. His father was known to my people when I lived beyond the city. I told his father that Jurughl would lead his people to ruin, and I was right." Bahrla stated.
"So you killed him because of some imagined slight?" the priestess inquired.
"It wasn't imagined." Bahrla said in a flat tone, "These people... the entire clan of them, are dead because of him."
"You are going to have to elaborate, please..." Lady Marion noted calmly, with just a hint of disbelief, "They look alive to me."
"She's right, Priestess." Anor-Roc explained, joining the two, removing the white healer's gloves from his paws, "They're all poisoned."
"Poisoned?" Lady Marion inquired.
"Grace." Bahrla explained.
The coy-wolf nodded at the word, "They've all been grossly overdosed for some time... months... maybe a year. Their bodies are starting to shut down."
"How could something like this have happened to an entire tribe of Wild Landers?" the priestess questioned. She looked to Bahrla, "I did not think that Grace extended beyond the borders of the city."
"Jurughl became addicted during a trip into a temple city." Bahrla explained, "He went back to his people and told his father that the entire tribe should learn to make it because it could be sold to in the cities. His father was a wise wolverine and told his son no... but I realized that would not be the end of it."
"But how does an entire tribe end up getting addicted?" Anor-Roc asked of her, "That's one thing I can't understand."
"Easy." Bahrla answered without batting an eye, "Jurughl solidified their obedience by slowly addicting them all to it... he wasn't interested in selling Grace... he wanted to continue feeding his own addiction. And with all of them focused on making more Grace, none of them did anything else needed to live."
"No hunters... no clothiers... nothing." Lady Marion practically whispered, "no balance in their lives... just complete dependency on Grace."
"There isn't any cure for Grace addiction." Anor-Roc said the words I've been hearing for over half a decade; it never failed to make me sick to my stomach, and that time was no exception.
"They are all dead." Bahrla repeated her earlier statement.
"The favor of the Full Moon is said to burn toxins out of the body..." Lady Marion objected.
"And that would just kill them faster." Bahrla argued, "Their bodies need the drug to survive."
"What about drawing out their dependency?" Anor-Roc inquired.
"Do you have any idea of how to do that?" Lady Marion asked.
The coy wolf paused at the question, and slowly shook his head negatively.
"Then we let them die." the priestess said with certainty.
"What?" Anor-Roc inquired, ears up.
"The Goddess bade her followers to understand their limitations and to call upon her for aid for what they could not do on their own." Lady Marion stated, as if reciting a passage from memory, "We certainly cannot help them, and if the Goddess' blessed touch of healing would only cause their demise then there is nothing that we can do to help. We cannot help them, and I cannot condone killing them." she explained, "They are beyond our reach... so we let them die." Something about the casual way Lady Marion said it made the cold knot in the pit of my stomach that much heavier.
"We have to do SOMETHING." the coy-wolf objected.
"Move them beyond the camp." Bahrla noted, "Gather them up a half mile to the east."
"How will that help?" Anor-Roc questioned.
"The beasts will be attracted to them and not us." the minotaur woman explained, "They will be eaten, and we will have a night's respite."
The coy-wolf growled faintly at that, fur standing on end, "I can't believe you would even--"
"When you do not have the protection of your precious cities then you learn to accept what must be done. Believe it or not, it is our best course of action." Bahrla noted simply. Their argument continued, but I wasn't able to pay it any attention; Sergeant Reilly sat down beside me on the log I was using as a bench.
"Is it anything like what you expected, Leijh?" he asked calmly.
I fidgeted for a moment, quickly partitioning the countless thoughts in my mind before speaking up, "Is what like what I expected, sir?"
"All of this." he motioned around with his paw, "The Wild Lands... the trip to Zion.... your fellow travelers..." and he looked at me expectantly. Despite the casual nature of the small-talk, it somehow felt like his question was suited for an interrogation, and the slowly-rising moon was the Light of Truth used by some of the holy inquisitors Lord Dalton has on retainer.
"No sir." I answered, "Nothing like what I expected."
The shepherd chuckled softly and patted my shoulder, "You're not on duty right now, Leijh and this isn't the barracks... just call me Keeland." he offered a smile, and, for a moment, it was infectious. The moment was broken by the sound of a wailing Wild Lander, and the smile left both our faces, "You did an amazing job carrying the fox." he offered. It was a compliment, which should have felt good coming from him, but all I felt was emptiness.
"I had to." I explained.
"Nobody has to give as much as you did to help him." the sergeant responded. There was no way for me to be able to explain how wrong he was. All I managed was a shrug. "You're out of sorts tonight." he offered.
"There's a lot on my mind." it was the truth, or as much of it as I could manage to give away.
"Just remember that you have friends here... burdens don't have to be carried alone, you know." he offered a smile and leaned forward; his muzzle brushed my cheek, "You are a strong woman, Leijh... I don't want to lose you under a wagon load of thoughts."
The gesture by my commanding officer knocked everything out of my head as I raised my hand to touch where he'd kissed me. I looked at him, and he looked back with a smile, his tail wagging slowly. There was a casual air of comfort around him, as if he didn't mind what I thought of the action... or maybe that he was so confident that he didn't need to know. That impression left me envious of him... and a little flushed.
"Get some rest, Leijh." he noted, slowly standing.
Despite my better judgment, my hand reached up and grabbed his paw. He glanced back at me and I quickly let go, "Thank you.... Keeland."
The shepherd smiled at my use of his name, and he returned to overseeing the camp; the argument between Anor-Roc and Lady Marion had attracted attention. Keeland took Anor-Roc aside to continue the discussion, leaving Lady Marion to use her prayers of healing. At one point, Valda was actually helping the priestess; she organized the injured and quickly developed an order by which they were presented for the goddess' touch.
Josh joined Lady Marion just before dinner, and the two of them moved about the caravan, using the powers gifted to them by Tah'Aveen to heal those brought before them by Valda. Josh had since returned to his normal form, which was much less imposing, but it was obvious by the way he dragged his paws that the change had taken a lot out of him. Regardless, he and the Priestess worked well into the night providing aid where needed.
I lost track of the hour, spending some time to set up a tent in an attempt to drown out the sounds of the anguishing Wild Landers. At some point, Bahrla won her argument and numerous guards and laborers began dragging the stricken people out into the darkness; I didn't want to think about it, and apparently neither did someone else.
"Ms. Leijh?" a voice called from outside my tent. I recognized Liam immediately.
"Come in." I invited, letting out a sigh; nothing about the night had been easy.
"Lady Marion said you were the one who carried me after I..." he paused, but only for a moment. While anyone else would have considered it to be an embarrassed delay, I realized that he was searching for the right cover to the truth, "fainted."
"You saved my life." I responded in as casual a tone as I could, "What kind of guard would I be if I didn't return the favor?"
"So you're saying we're even?" he asked. The comment came across smoothly, but I couldn't miss the faint tweak to the tip of his tail, a sure sign he meant it playfully even if he was trying to present it in as reserved a manner as possible. It somehow felt good that he didn't know how to deal with me... that meant that things weren't as bad as I thought.
"Are YOU saying we're even?" I countered, providing a smile so he could more easily know I meant it in good humor. His tail swished back-and-forth in response.
"Anyway..." he said, lingering at the entrance, "I just wanted to say thank you."
"You're welcome." I offered.
He remained there for another handful of seconds as if he were either wanting to say something, or waiting to hear something, but I was able to tell when he decided it was time to leave, "Well..." he smiled, half pleasant, half embarrassed, "goodnight."
"Goodnight." I confirmed. It took a long while for me to fall asleep-- the sounds of the Wild Landers' calls were still fresh in my ears and I was certain I'd dream about them all night long. Strangely, Miri, I didn't... I dreamed of furred arms holding me close, telling me everything would be alright. I buried myself into a strong chest, enjoying the feel of being held by someone who didn't want anything other than me. I'm embarrassed, Miri, because I should be able to put a face to the mysterious dream lover. I've gone my whole life without every finding someone who could make me feel this way... so why now? Tah'Aveen must have a horrible sense of humor.
Anyway, it'll be time to leave soon. The camp is rousing and people will be eating a quick breakfast. I expect at least one or two curious scouts will go to check on the site where they moved the Wild Landers... I just hope they don't bother telling everyone what they find; I haven't heard a single sound from them all morning. I hope to write again tonight... so until then--
Lovingly yours, Leijh
* * * * * *
The Myrenese are left with quite a dillema about what to do with the Wild Landers. In the end, the resolution isn't good for anyone
The party spends time recovering after the battle.
Lady Marion uses the power of the Full Moon to remove Josh's single Lethal wound. Nobody else has any significant injuries that don't heal on their own.
All characters also lose 1 Major Fatigue and all Minor Fatigue. Fatigue remains as follows: Anor-Roc has 1 Major Anor-Roc's contributing reader may elect to spend 1 Willpower to remove it.
This chapter marked matured due to drug reference.
Please watch for upcoming contribution opportunities as Chapter 4 will soon begin. Congratulations to the Myre party for surviving Chapter 3!