And so today… finally… the road to our adventure has truly begun.. We have taken our first steps upon it with the
stories we had heard of the fantastic lost treasure of an ancient Aerdi King hidden within the Troll Fens. These had soon
given way to those of a terrible affliction being suffered by the good folk of
Tristor. Some malevolent force was mutilating the townsfolk’s animals and I
knew we needed to investigate it as soon as possible.
Of
course brother James agreed with me, his fervour shining bright enough to be
mistaken for the lamps on a carriage and as Bohun said almost nothing pretty much all of the time we
changed our course and headed for the town.
Things
being what they are it was not long before we had cause to step from the path
we had chosen for ourselves. A little way off from the town I heard a scream, a
woman’s scream, coming from a farmhouse just a half a mile or so from the road.
We, being the heroic types that we are , made for the farm with haste and came
across a wagon that had been drawn by a pair of horses… I say had been as they
had both been savaged by the Owlbear that was now bearing down upon an old man, presumably the wagoner,
who tried valiantly to hold it off with a pitchfork! Protecting as he did so a young woman who clutched a dagger as a child would a toy doll.
Without
any thoughts of our own safety we rushed to the man’s aid. We tried valiantly to
surround the creature, which was in a pitiful condition, and attacked it. The
fight was brief and bloody, with both brother James and Bohun receiving blows
from the beast before we were able to put an end to its suffering… The poor creature was near blind
and half starved and in the end i think it was a blessing, though I wish we could have finished it in
a less painful way. Gaeren,
for that was the manr’s name, had suffered a nasty wound from the creature
which I treated with my magic. He was still very drained so I asked brother
James to carry him inside the farm house where he was watched by the young lady with tear stained cheeks we’d
heard crying out… her name was Byron.
When
Gaeren had rested he spoke to us of what had happened to the poor girl… how he had come across
Byron a few days before, her family had been slain by Orcs some days before but she had family
in Tristor and was trying to make her way there to them. Kind man that he is
Gaeren took her in and was preparing to take her into Tristor when the Owlbear
struck! Byron
felt she needed to help her benefactor and tended his wounds with delicacy and care but sadly her knowledge of the ways of
healing had much more in common with a cooks culinary skill with herbs… I tried to
advise her that what she was using would be better used in flavouring a dish
but she said this was what her mother had taught her. I couldn’t bring myself
to take that away from her the poor girl given her so recent bereavement.
The
skills her mother had lacked as a healing herbalist she had more than made up
for with the skills she had passed on in the kitchen. A stew she had cooked,
from Gaeren’s prize heifer that had been slain before she'd arrived. Gaeren, not wanting to waste the meat had butchered it there on the farm. Juicy chunks of beef, a rich broth thick with barley, carrots and other root vegetables and all delicately treated with those wonderful herbs... tasty dumplings laced with grated horseraddish and fresh buttered bread rounded it off... It was almost
as tasty as food from back home… Ah home, memories of home keep me warm on
those long… sometimes very long nights on the road with my dear companions. I
took the time to tend to Brother James and Old Bohun’s wounds, dressing them
properly and ensuring that they were clean and the correct healing salves
applied. Then with a foamy mug of ale and a pipe I settled down for the evening near
to the fire to rest...
No comments:
Post a Comment