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The BloodVaine EpicChapter 94: Recuperation
Berlin rushed to deliver the trinkets, but as he neared Bjarn’s tent, a black-clad figure tackled him without warning, sending the Bull tumbling down the ridge a few feet. Berlin looked up. Two cold blue eyes stared out from the gaunt face of Searil Chordate.
“Sinner! Do you know what you are doing?!” the zealot cried.
Berlin was confused, startled. He dropped the trinkets to the ground. Searil abruptly rushed over to them, and with a quick swipe, dashed them off into the ravine. Berlin looked at him like he was mad for a few moments while Searil gazed into the abyss. “YOU IDIOT!” Berlin yelled, bounding after Searil, “YOU OVERZEALOUS, FERVENT RELIGIOUS EXTREMIST FOOL!”
But as Berlin reached for Searil, attempting to spin him around a smack him hard in the face, Searil pushed him backwards onto the grass, grabbing him by the collar.
“You infernal, craven Dog of Flanders!” he spat in his face, “Why do you dare bring such evil idols into this camp? Unrighteous sinner!”
Barbod soon came running down the hill as well as Gladwheel, who had his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON HERE?” Gladwheel barked.
“Let go of him!” Barbod ordered.
Gladwheel promptly grabbed the lanky Chordate’s shoulder and threw him off.
“Where did you come from?”
Searil regained his composure, snarling.
“I was called here by a higher power,” he answered cryptically.
“Get this madman back to camp,” Gladwheel ordered Berlin.
Berlin was a little dismayed by everything that had happened.
“Why the bloody...why would he throw them away?” Berlin said as he slowly put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“It is because they cannot appreciate whatever is given to them.” the Lone Ranger slowly walked towards the men with both trinkets in his hand, his Samurai sword was unsheathed.
“You sinner!” the zealot cried out.
“Shut up before I stab your mouth shut.” the Lone Ranger replied back, “If you do not want my help, then say so.”
The Lone Ranger walked off.
Reno wiped the sweat from his brow so it would not drip into Bjarn’s wounds. Bjarn was bad enough as it was, he did need an infection. Reno worked steadily, carefully, removing splinters of bones from Bjarn’s hand and realigning the remaining bone to it’s proposition, so it hopefully would grow back together. Further down, Shainya was finishing up a splint. Bjarn’s legs had not broken the same, the right had been a clean break and therefore easily mended, but the left had broken halfway and then broken through the skin - a much harder wound to heal. Bjarn would live, but with how much of a crippled body would be decided by the skill of his dedicated healers, Bjarn’s stamina and the whim of the gods.
Sir Dractor had no idea what time it was when he finally came back to his senses. But whatever time it was didn’t matter. All that mattered was the extreme pain he was in. The boulder had smashed Sir Dractor in the back, irreversibly denting and twisting his armor. Gingerly, he un-strapped the useless metal, and let it fall. Then he slowly stood up. His back was in pain and he was covered from head to toe in bruises and cuts, but he was alive, and able to walk.
Sort of.
As soon as he tried, he nearly fell over. So he slowly, ever so slowly, got down on his hands and knees and began to crawl. Finally, he came on a broken spear-shaft, and got, very slowly and carefully, back to his unsteady feet. Using the spear as a staff, he slowly began to hobble towards the infirmary camp.
It took a long, long time.
On the way, the weakened warrior took inventory. His armor and helmet were both virtually irreparable. His sword was broken. His shield was destroyed. And even his regular clothing was torn and discolored to worse than beggar’s rags. But he was alive, and more or less whole.
The longer he walked, the more it seemed like less whole, and the less it seemed like more whole. Finally, after an hour of walking, he stumbled into the camp. He was barely able to stand upright anymore. Shainya happened to catch sight of him hobbling in.
“I thought you were dead!” she said, “I saw the boulder come down!”
“No,” said Sir Dractor with a grimace, “I’m not that bad. Better than Bjarn, I fear. Tell me, is the battle over? What happened to BloodVaine?”
Shainya thought for a moment, and then her face colored.
“You know,” she said, “I have no idea. I haven’t paid hardly any attention to the battle’s progress at all…”
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