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Kit's Life

Started by Dray, March 19, 2006, 12:33:09 AM

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Wildfire

Ashe was lost in his thoughts and memories. He tried to understand the meanings of recent knowledge that he did not have all the facts to. He sipped his coffee and smoked his pipe and stared into the fire.

He began to see his hearth in a new way. It was all of the four children in one place. The fire that burns, the air about the fire feeding it, the stones to hold the fire, and the steam from his kettle. It was a quiet harmony that Ashe had never before acknowledged. Even now Mahiya is still teaching him to see.

*knock, knock, knock*

Ashe continued to stare into the fire completely oblivios to the rapping at his door.

*knock, knock, knock*

"Ashe, are you there?" a voice said from beyond the door. "Ashe, it's Kyle. I came to see how Kit was feeling. I heard she was sick. Ashe, please let me in."

Ashe snapped out of his reverie and shook his head. He realized that he had not blinked for a while and his eyes were going dry. He put the balls of his hands up to his eyses and rubbed hard.

"Ashe, I know you're in there. I can see smoke coming from your chimney." Kyle said matter-of-factly.

Ashe cursed and got up and went to the door. As he was about to open it he looked back at Kit and thought that he had better cover her with a sheet. After doing so, he opened the door a crack. "Blast it boy! What in the blazes do you want!"

Ashe hated being disturbed from his meditations. After the previous night he did not want to be distracted. Now he was being roused by a curious pubescent. He simply did not want to deal with that right now. However, he knew that Kyle came out of concern for Kit.

"I...I just wanted to see how Kit was doing. Is she..." Kyle stammered.

"What? Is she what?" Ashe retorted. Ashe wasn't really too angry with the boy. He just wanted him to build the courage and confidence to ask his question.

"Is she okay? I found out this morning that she was hurting." Kyle said.

"If he only knew how much" Ashe thought. "She's getting better. It'll take some time but she'll be alright." Ashe hoped this give Kyle some comfort.

"Well, what happened? Can I see her? I heard she fell hard at The Thornhedge." Kyle said.

"Yes she fell and no, you can't see her. She's asleep." Ashe, of course did not tell the whole story.

"Would it be okay if I...just...look?" Kyle tip toed at an angle to try and see anything in the house.

"Kyle!" Ashe said sternly, "What part of 'NO' do you not understand?"

"I...I...I just want to know that she's okay." Kyle dropped his eyes to the ground.

Ashe sighed, "She's doing good. But she needs her sleep. The best thing you can do right now is give that to her. Give her your thoughts as well. You'd be amazed at how thoughts can help to heal someone."

Kyle slowly looked up. "I'll make her another piece of jewelry! I'll bet she'd like that, don't you?"

"Every bit helps Kyle."

"Okay, I'll start working on it right now." Kyle turned to the road and waved goodbye as he walked. Ashe opened the door and waved back. Ashe took a deep breath of Sythus air and closed the door.

He looked back at Kit lying motionless on the bed. She was snoring in her dainty way, just a snort and whistle. He let out a breath and said, "Sometimes things have to hurt if they're to heal, my young one."

Ashe went back to his chair and continued to stare into the flames, lost in thought.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Dray

Jarmok had long since gone when Ashe awoke hours later. Ashe once again felt vital, having slept soundly through the night. Maccabeus's relation of Kit's speaking in the night left the elder cold though. The poor girl continued to relive her past instead of growing out of it and seizing her own destiny. He gently stroked her hair, feeling the fondness of a grandfather.

The sleepy Maccabeus and Wolf went back to the Ring.

The light through the windows revealed that Kossuth had made her appearance a hand or so before. Ashe, now alone, cleaned his patient, and replaced the bloody rags. She slept soundly throughout. He moved over to the fire and put a kettle of water on for coffee, sat on an adjacent bed and recalled his notes in his mind for thought.

[8am]

Dray

The little flaming wick ate at Maccabeus's candle and Grumbar stalked the sky for a hand of time as the little dale gnome read one of Ashe's many books on local herbology. He sat contentedly in one of Ashe's comfortable chairs, which, being large enough to hold a human comfortably, completely enveloped the whole of Maccabeus's body. Maccabeus's mind was restless tonight, and his focus continually wandered from those pages; he found more often that while one eye was continually upon his charge, the other was to be found more often on the stars than on the tome. 'Alright.' He gave in at length. 'Perhaps a member of the trinity has the night off,' he thought. Closing the book, he settled deeper into the chair, extinguished the lonely candle, and through the open window watched the beautiful starlight.

He had just counted his third falling star when Kit made the 'peep' he had been asked to listen for.

She spoke very quietly in her sleep, and even with his keen hearing he couldn't make out what she said. He hopped up from his chair and shuffled quietly over to her bed, not yet alarmed enough to wake Ashe or Jarmok.

His head was just higher than hers as he stood by her lying form. "A pretty lass thou art." He whispered, falling into Wolf's oft-used formal tones and admiring her face. "Why would a youngling like yourself be cutting gems?" He looked again at the blister and noted that the cloths near her hips had soaked up nearly as much blood as they were likely to be able, and needed to be changed. "And what kind of tool were you using that would cut your lower back like that? Ahh...as I've said many-a time in the past: you humans can be odd creatures indeed." He mused while depositing the blood soaked rags into a bucket nearby.

"Perhaps she backed up into a large crystal?" He wondered as he placed fresh cloths down on the mattress. But that would have to have been one large crystal, and she would have to have running backwards awfully fast in order to create this damage. For a moment, he thought to visit Mahiya's blessing upon the girl, but he caught himself. Ashe would have already done that were that the right course to follow. The Elder had mentioned that the only way out of this mess was through it. He placed his calloused hand upon her fine brow and whispered a prayer to the Divinities for Kit's favor.

Kit then moaned a bit, and took a bit of intake of breath, just before Maccabeus turned around to wake Ashe she spoke.

"Drakyr, my sweet friend, I'm no good to you dead. Unless I find a cure for myself the secret will remain such. Besides, if the others knew what our plans are, or should I say, what your plans are, you would be hunted with no reprieve...probably by the finest assassins in all of Elsenban. So please, don't make idle threats. It puts me under unnecessary stress. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

She then lay quiet.

Maccabeus simply stood and watched the girl for a while, waiting for any sign of distress from her. None came forth. He returned to his stargazing and to his pipe that patiently waited for him on the sill.
 
Hands of time passed [5am] until the morning glow of Kossuth started to put the stars to sleep.
 
Kit seemed still at ease, so Maccabeus felt no need to awaken Ashe. Maccabeus sat quietly, watching the sky lighten, and only came alert when he heard Wolf padding quietly behind him. Looking around, Maccabeus noted that Wolf was poking and licking at Jarmok, and the dale gnome realized that his big, furry brother was right: Ashe had said that Jarmok needed to awaken ere dawn. Jarmok awakened to Wolf ministrations. "Hrung. Am awake. Is time?" The odd sentinel grumbled.

Johan

Maccabeus listened as closely as he could to Ashe's explanation. But, as often happened to him when someone explained something for which he had no background, his mind wandered.

If he were to simply serve as sentinel here tonight, then it would be a nice night for a smoke of this wonderful weed that Ashe had given him. He would open a window and watch the stars, breathing in the cool night air. Perhaps he could look at one of these herbal books that Ashe had spoken of. He was interested in that dark colored moss that he has found in the north end of the Ring. He wondered if Vallenwood, or Bramble knew anything about herbal properties.

At length, Ashe murmured something about someone called Avernus, and then lay down and swiftly fled to slumber.

Well, if someone named Avernus showed up, Maccabeus would have to deal with that. In the meantime, his name was being called by his sacred trinity: stars, book, and pipe.
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Wildfire

Ashe glanced over to Maccabeus and said, "Seers can make what's called a psicrystal. It's an extension of their personality. Kit is actually making one right now in her back. That's why the large blood blister. It just occured to me that since she touched the Eye and it was the catalyst of the formation of her crystal that her crystal might have some residual powers of the Eye. What exactly this would mean I don't know. It definately something to be wary of."

Ashe went back over to his bed and sat down. "I'm going to try like Avernus to get some sleep." Maccabeus could see large dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Ashe's hair was a tangled mess and the age lines on his face seemed to be that much deeper.

Ashe layed down, closed his eyes, and remained completly silent.
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Wildfire

Ashe had started to move to a bed during Maccabeus's words. He was mentally and physically exhausted. He couldn't stop thinking though. So much had transpired and wanted to sit in comtemplation of it.

He lay down on the bed and rested his head on the pillow. A pillow never felt so good he thought. He closed his eyes and continued to think. Was there anything that he missed? Did everything really go okay? he wanted to double check somehow. He just had to see where it would go.

He wondered what Kit's psicrystal would look like. What sort of personality would she thrust into it? Then a wave of horror came over him. What if...no...what if her crystal was a product of the Eye itself and it harbored similar powers of the Eye?

Ashe snapped his eyes open and got up. Maccabeus had expected him to be asleep already and Wolf let out a quick grunt of surprise. Ashe went over to Kit and put his hand gently on her blister and said, "I guess we'll find out soon enough. Won't we, Kit?"
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Jarmok snored contentedly from the bed where he still sat, his head hung down to his chest. Maccabeus smiled and moved to help the outlander to lay down.

"He's an odd one, this." Maccabeus laughed. "Dang near beat Wolf in the run here. I think that the Great Hunter must smile upon him. Vallenwood likes him as well." He then turned to Ashe. "Get some sleep." He said. "I'll stand vigil over the lass. And I'll awaken you should she peep."
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Wildfire

Ashe sat down and said, "I'll give you the short version. Kit has a sort of mind magic. You may know these folks as Seers. She touched an artifact called the Eye of Portence and it's attempted to maifest itself within Kit. Kit being a seer is particularly vulnerable to it's power. I just went into Kit's mind and saved her from oblivion. Now, her blister is something that came about as a result of her touching the Eye. My feeling is that it has not run it's course yet. Events are in motiion and the only way out of it is through it."

Ashe got up and went to a tapped barrel and filled a tankard with some amber colored brew. "Maccabeus, I would ask that you mind her and the place while I try to get some sleep. I'm utterly exhausted. If Kit makes a peep I want to know of it. You can look through my herb books if you like and experiment with some of my trappings on the shelf there."

Ashe took a draw from his tankard and says, "Jarmok, you're welcome to stay if you like, of course. There are plenty of beds. In a shart time though your friends will be calling on you to finish some buisiness at the ruins. I beg that you get some rest."
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Maccabeus surveyed the room, and Wolf whined in sympathy for the youngling laying prone upon the bed.

"Kit hurt." Jarmok said superfluously as he sat upon the clean bed on the far side of Kit.

"Indeed." Maccabeus answered, peering at the blister. He turned his head slightly towards Ashe, but kept his eyes upon Kit's lower back. "I have to assume that this is not a straight-forward wound, yes?" He asked. "I shouldn't think that you would need me for that." He then looked up at Ashe's haggard face. "What's going on? What happened?"
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Dray

Ashe motioned for the three of them to enter his apothecary.

The girl Maccabeus had just met and healed the previous evening lay on her stomach of the bed. Jarmok noted that she was now cleaned, her bloody undergarments had been stripped, and two fresh linen blankets, folded in 1' x 4' length were draped over her for modesty. One was across her upper back, covering her chest that she lay upon, the other was across her buttocks. The blister was left in plain view between them. Many fresh cloths had been stacked at each hip to catch the blood that was slowly seeping from the sides of the wound.

Jarmok thought the lass looked far better now that she was clean and on a fresh bed. Ashe had even dampened her hair and rinsed parts of it which were coagulated with dried blood. He then had combed it out and set the length within a towel to the side of her head for drying.

Her head was cradled by a fresh down pillow, the soft features of her face were calm and relaxed as she dosed in painless sleep, thanks to Ashe?s potion.

They had not gotten all the blood splatter from the frame of the adjacent bed, nor even tended to that its mattress, but at least the pools had been mopped from the floor and one could safely walk in the room.

Wildfire

Ashe opened the door to see Jarmok and Maccabeus laughing with each other. Out of delighted curiosity he began to smile too. He was glad to see that, despite all that was currently happening, laughter still existed.

Even Wolf was joining the fun by jumping and trotting around.

Laughing also Ashe said, "Come on in and get some drink! Maccabeus, your eyes, Wolf's too, are much appreciated tonight."
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

Duthash Dracum Fehy [May 14th]. Kossuth was still a few hands away. Both Istisha and Akadi were all but new, and their slivers were gone from the early morning sky anyway. Grumbar was yet gibbous, but its dusky orange light didn't contribute much to the pitch of night, and that dark was reinforced by the thickening canopy of newly leaved trees that spanned the road that led north out of Threshold.

Jarmok felt as though he were padding through a tunnel, except for the minimal light of Grumbar, and of the stars, that fought its way to illuminate the packed dirt road.

The night's activities had left his nerves on high alert, but he could hear nothing over the sounds of his slightly labored breathing and the light pounding of his soft leather boots. He could see even less; barely a quarter of a bow shot ahead of him.

Ever since his realization that he could assume other forms, he would have preferred to fly this errand, but his head was still ringing from having done so earlier. He wasn't ready to do that again just yet.

And so he ran. Nervously. He struggled through his fatigue and his emotion-drained cobwebbed head, forcing himself to remain calm and to attune his environment.

On top of all this, shadowriders were about, perhaps waiting in ambush for any foolish enough to tread this road at night. Unconsciously, his pace quickened from a jog to a lope.

His well-founded fears birthed no fruit, however. In short order he crossed the bridge to Little Threshold and angled through the fields towards the south. Were this an errand that he would run during the day, he would have gone through the far side, but he wasn't yet intimate enough with that side to be able to navigate it under the current poor lighting conditions. So he went the long way, knowing that Ashe would have preferred the short.

But the old herbalist had said that Kit was no longer in any real danger, and that had eased Jarmok into taking the more true route, instead of the more swift one.

Of course, now that he arrived at the south end of the south field, he realized that he didn't know how to alert the small dale gnome to his presence.

Straining, he could hear the somewhat distant gurgling of water. The bramble wall was full and strong, and bore the scent of those blooms that Ashe liked so well. Crumpetblooms? He didn't really know.

Jarmok became aware of a chanting deep in his mind. He seemed to be replaying the rhythm that Ash and Maccabeus had used when the four of them had planted that oversized acorn. The Vallenwood chant.

As far as Jarmok knew, he wasn't a particularly adept person where music was involved; he didn't really know how he could have remembered that lilt, although it did speak to him on a fairly primal level.

It played continuously in his mind, and he found himself getting a little lost in it, even as his goal of fetching Maccabeus reared in his mind: an image of him, Wolf, and Maccabeus running back to Threshold to aid in Ashe's treatment of Kit.

Abruptly, the bramble began to move about, as though harassed by a strong wind. Except that it moved far more than a wind might move a shrubbery. It twisted and opened the way that it had on that morning when Jarmok had met Maccabeus.

And there stood Wolf: tall, robust, and clear-eyed, with a spear-bearing dale gnome astride him, ready to run.

"Lead on, brother mine." The gnome said.

"Hrung." Jarmok spun upon his heal and began the run back to Threshold. He didn't bother asking how Maccabeus knew that he was there, nor how Maccabeus knew that Jarmok had come to lead him anywhere. It just was, and for Jarmok's now-lethargic mind, that was enough.

The run back to Threshold was faster, and more enjoyable than the run out of Threshold had been. Jarmok's energy came back. There was no conversation, but Wolf seemed to enjoy bumping into the lean outlander playfully. Jarmok found himself racing the huge wolf at times, pushing himself to his fastest. But Wolf was faster still; the big animal seemed to be teasing Jarmok as they flew along the road southerly. He ran ahead by a handful of paces, then slowed, allowing Jarmok to almost catch up, but stayed continuously just beyond Jarmok's ability to catch him.

All too soon they crossed the angelhawk, Jarmok still on the heels of Wolf, even though the latter bore the dead weight of his hunka-brother. But Jarmok cheated.

As Wolf sped across the rosewalk, Jarmok still trailing, and then across the wolfsong, Jarmok still trailing, the outlander veered sharply off to the left, speeding behind the buildings while Wolf, less intimate with the area, followed the road. Jarmok pushed himself hard, his heart thumping and his breath forced. He vaulted over shrubberies, much as he had done earlier, and when he rejoined the road, a bowshot or so north of Ashe's house, he was alone.

But not for long. Some short distance behind Jarmok, Wolf yiped in surprise and Maccabeus laughed shrilly. Then the animal ran in earnest and the trio came to Ashe's house almost simultaneously.

Breathless though he was, it was the first time in his recollection that Jarmok shared an earnest, honest belly laugh with another person. Perhaps even with himself.
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Dray

I think we might as well get into phase 2 and try to continue here. What does going into a new thread by us? At least the entire thread will all be in one place.

I also beg the indulgence of all readers and all involved in the thread, I realize that it has been very self-absorbed, but that is what ICD's are for - our personal enjoyment. And the development of this character has been thoroughly enjoyable for me. Thanks to all for allowing me my fun.

Wildfire

Dray, did you want to start a new thread for the next phase?
Wildfire

One should never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity

Johan

"Hrung." Jarmok assented tiredly, taking the pouches proffered by the elder. He tucked the pouches into his quiver, nestling it immobile among his crude arrows. He then strode from the herbalist's home, and made his way northerly. Loping along at a comfortable pace, eyes and ears straining for any signs of unwelcome company.

He jogged silently over the wolfsong, the rosewalk, and then the angelhawk bridges, heading northerly to retrieve Maccabeus and his magnificent wolf.

[color=green:8247db880f]Is this thread done?[/color]
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