Warpost - Aftermath.
[Day 15, 11:00]
The blood on my hands is mostly dry, the last of it coagulating as I step back from the last of the paitents. All around, the healers are leaning against each other, gaunt and hollow-eyed from the hellish few hours.
::Enough. Those we have not healed are beyound mortal help.:: I withdraw the power reservoir that all with any skill in healing have drawn off for the last few hours. We will at least be spared another Suzanna Juila. All the healers live, even though I can see the nightmares they will have in their eyes. ::Go. Eat. Sleep.::
I scrub as much of the blood off my hands as I can. I will not remove it all. Some always remains trapped under cuticles or nails or buried deep in the grain of skin. It takes a long time for so much blood to fade. I wave off the guards that follow me, and mount. Nacht has drawn from my power and remains mostly fresh. ::Go and prepare the wagons and prisoners to be sent home.::
They nod and scatter. I am hardly naive enough to believe that they will not follow me, but I will at least be granted the illusion of privacy.
I leave the camps behind, trusting in Nacht to find a path through trees until at last I come to a secluded glade. Nacht drops his head to browse at the grass. I dismount and move into the centre of the clearing. It takes a few seconds to focus sufficently but the distant sense of Alarik is easy enough to find.
::Alarik. I would speak with you.::
The blood on my hands is mostly dry, the last of it coagulating as I step back from the last of the paitents. All around, the healers are leaning against each other, gaunt and hollow-eyed from the hellish few hours.
::Enough. Those we have not healed are beyound mortal help.:: I withdraw the power reservoir that all with any skill in healing have drawn off for the last few hours. We will at least be spared another Suzanna Juila. All the healers live, even though I can see the nightmares they will have in their eyes. ::Go. Eat. Sleep.::
I scrub as much of the blood off my hands as I can. I will not remove it all. Some always remains trapped under cuticles or nails or buried deep in the grain of skin. It takes a long time for so much blood to fade. I wave off the guards that follow me, and mount. Nacht has drawn from my power and remains mostly fresh. ::Go and prepare the wagons and prisoners to be sent home.::
They nod and scatter. I am hardly naive enough to believe that they will not follow me, but I will at least be granted the illusion of privacy.
I leave the camps behind, trusting in Nacht to find a path through trees until at last I come to a secluded glade. Nacht drops his head to browse at the grass. I dismount and move into the centre of the clearing. It takes a few seconds to focus sufficently but the distant sense of Alarik is easy enough to find.
::Alarik. I would speak with you.::