Caravan - Open Fantasy RP - Jump right in!

[Frundette]

"Thank you." Linden didn't look at Rook as he left, but was grateful for larger flames now leaping from the fire. The cave wasn't very cold for him even with the small fire as the ground provided a small amount of heat on its own, but he knew Mavis would appreciate it being a little bit warmer than usual. While Rook was gone, he removed Mavis's shirt and pants to keep the cot reasonably dry (before anyone comes up with some sick, perverted idea, that is not the case at all, I promise) and noticed the angry purple bruise which was forming around his chest, exposing the broken rib. "My God..." He murmured to himself, feeling another wave of both pity for Mavis, and anger at the bandits. Whoever did this was obviously a disturbed individual. Mavis's wounds, in his opinion, bordered on torture... at the very least a sadistic form of forced submission.

He tucked the blanket back around Mavis's thin frame, unable to look anymore. The rib, in addition to angering him, made him wish that he had paid more attention during the few lessons the guards had been given on basic medical procedures. He was sure they had mentioned something about broken bones, but it was so long ago that he didn't remember enough to even begin treating it. After making a mental note to mention it to Rook once he got back, he turned his attention to preparing the gash on Mavis's forehead for the bandage. He plucked out as much hair and debris as he could with his fingers, then kicked himself inwardly for not asking Rook to bring a small pail of water to wash the wound out with. It needed to be clean before a bandage was put on, or an infection would surely fester under the concealing dressing.

As Rook dug through a rather ornate old trunk, taken from some travelers that had crossed the mountain pass over the summer, he pondered the change in leadership and the changes it might mean for how the crew operated. It was not terribly uncommon for the group of bandits to take prisoners if an easy target presented itself. Every few months and when the road wasn't made impassable by the winter snows, a slave trader came through and paid a good price for the unfortunates. So far, it seemed Algar would keep up that tradition. As for the kid, who knew? If he lived, maybe he'd fall in line with the bandits. If not, Rook was pretty sure he'd share the same fate as that caravan guard. Either way, Rook really did prefer the kid didn't die.

"This'll work," he said to himself as he pulled out a pair of trousers and a shirt that looked like they might be a bit large, but probably as close as he was going to find. There was a wool blanket in the trunk too and he grabbed it, taking the items back to the cavern.

"Hey, your highness," Rook said, but this time the title lacked so much of a mocking tone it had while Algar and Merek were in the room. "Here's some clothes that might fit him. And a blanket." He set the items down on the cot, just barely coming into Linden's range.

 

[Frundette]

Krin woke up and hour or tw later and rubbed her eyes. She yawned and looked around. The lft her small room and went to the dining room.

"Karin," Algar caught the girl's attention as she entered the larger common area. He was sitting at one of the crudely built tables, drinking something out of a wooden mug. "I was wondering where you were. I'd like to talk to you for a minute. Join me."

 

[ChickenRadio]

"Karin,"  Algar caught the girl's attention as she entered the larger common area.  He was sitting at one of the crudely built tables, drinking something out of a wooden mug.  "I was wondering where you were.  I'd like to talk to you for a minute.  Join me."

Karin jumped. "Okay." She said coming over to Algar.

 

[Frundette]

Karin jumped. "Okay." She said coming over to Algar.

"Tell me," he started. "How is it that the boy that I left in your care is sitting at death's door?"

 

[ChickieBooBoo]

As Rook dug through a rather ornate old trunk, taken from some travelers that had crossed the mountain pass over the summer, he pondered the change in leadership and the changes it might mean for how the crew operated.  It was not terribly uncommon for the group of bandits to take prisoners if an easy target presented itself.  Every few months and when the road wasn't made impassable by the winter snows, a slave trader came through and paid a good price for the unfortunates.  So far, it seemed Algar would keep up that tradition.  As for the kid, who knew?  If he lived, maybe he'd fall in line with the bandits.  If not, Rook was pretty sure he'd share the same fate as that caravan guard.    Either way, Rook really did prefer the kid didn't die. 

"This'll work," he said to himself as he pulled out a pair of trousers and a shirt that looked like they might be a bit large, but probably as close as he was going to find.  There was a wool blanket in the trunk too and he grabbed it, taking the items back to the cavern. 

"Hey, your highness," Rook said, but this time the title lacked so much of a mocking tone it had while Algar and Merek were in the room.   "Here's some clothes that might fit him.  And a blanket."  He set the items down on the cot, just barely coming into Linden's range. 

When Rook returned, Linden was kneeling beside Mavis's head, still cleaning the ugly wound on the boy's forehead. The cot, he had found out earlier, was rather flimsy and didn't hold his weight exceptionally well, so he had resorted to kneeling in the place of sitting. He stood up the moment Rook entered the cavern, and once again ignored the bandit's barbed comment. The lack of sarcasm and mockery didn't go completely unnoticed, but he second guessed himself and blamed his incorrect/correct perception on his own head injury.

While dragging the shackle behind him, he shuffled towards the end of the cot where Mavis's feet lay to retieve the blanket and clothing. As the chain reached its maximum length and gently tugged on his leg, he flashed a disapproving look at Rook to reinforce his annoyance at being chained up. Realizing that persistently complaining about the issue wasn't going to solve anything however, he dropped it at that and picked up the clothes to examine the size. "Yes, these should fit. But, before I put them on there's something I'd like you to have a look at." He returned to Mavis's head and pulled the blanket down to his waist, exposing his chest. The purple bruise had spread even further since Linden had last looked at it. "Do you have anyone here who might know how to deal with this?"

...

At this point Mavis had regained consciousness and was vaguely aware of voices around him. His entire body felt like it had been struck by a runaway horse, and everytime be breathed a sharp and raw burst of pain nearly exploded in his head.

 

[Frundette]

Rook's eyes widened slightly at seeing the ugly bruise. Up until now, he'd figured that the kid had just clunked his head falling into the pit. "I don't know, man," he said, forgetting for a moment, to call Linden 'your highness'. "Well, there might be someone," he said, thinking of Tianea. She was usually the one that helped patch up the crew's injuries after an encounter. "I'll see if I can find her."

"Algar." Tianea said simply.

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"Tianea?" Rook called, knocking on the woman's door. "You in there? I need your help."

 

[ChickieBooBoo]

"Thanks Rook... really, I appreciate it." Linden's voice sounded genuinely sincere as he began slipping the dry clothes onto Mavis. Once he was finished he spread the second blanket over top of the first one and reached over to feel Mavis's skin. He expected it to be cool, still in the process of warming up, but instead the boy's forehead felt hot and sweaty against his hand. Initially he wanted to throw the second blanket off because Mavis was too hot, but as he did he realized that Mavis was also shivering. Fever... Of course! The realization hit him quickly and he threw the second blanket back on. "Oh Mavis..." He sat down on the floor with his back against the cavern wall closest to his friend's head and whispered, "What are we ever going to do with you..."

 

[ChickenRadio]

Rook's eyes widened slightly at seeing the ugly bruise.  Up until now, he'd figured that the kid had just clunked his head falling into the pit.   "I don't know, man," he said, forgetting for a moment, to call Linden 'your highness'.    "Well, there might be someone," he said, thinking of Tianea.  She was usually the one that helped patch up the crew's injuries after an encounter.  "I'll see if I can find her." 



"Tianea?"  Rook called, knocking on the woman's door.  "You in there?  I need your help."

"Hang on!" Tianea called through the door. "Bryla. Go back in the tunnl and be quite!" Tianea ordered. (Pretending brylla went in) "Okay." She walked over to the door and opened it. "Yes?"

 

[Frundette]

More out of confusion than any desire to hide from Rook, Brylla obeyed, and slipped just into the shadows where she could watch the interaction.

Rook looked awkward as he stood in the doorway, having always been quite taken with the woman who was a few years his elder. "Hi," he started, running a hand through his greasy hair to smooth it down some. "Would you.. I mean, if you wouldn't mind.. there's a kid ... from the caravan.. that needs some patchin' up," he stammered out awkwardly. "I thought maybe you could help him?"

 

[ChickenRadio]

More out of confusion than any desire to hide from Rook, Brylla obeyed, and slipped just into the shadows where she could watch the interaction.

Rook looked awkward as he stood in the doorway, having always been quite taken with the woman who was a few years his elder.  "Hi," he started, running a hand through his greasy hair to smooth it down some.  "Would you..  I mean, if you wouldn't mind..  there's a kid ... from the caravan.. that needs some patchin' up," he stammered out awkwardly.  "I thought maybe you could help him?"

"What are his wounds? And which is most serious?" Tianea said leaving the door open for Rook she went over to a desk and started sorting through small vials of herbs.

(GTG)