MysidiaDrakkenbane

They stayed the night up at OracleTower and in the morning, they were refreshed and ready to head out towards WindstalkerVillage.

James and Aust had bade their farewells, which left Mysidia to give hers. She gave a long warm hug to Tain. She went inside one of her pouches and handed him a small bottle with a dark purple liquid inside.

Tain took the crystal bottle in his hands and gave Mysidia a very curious look. “What’s this?”, he asked looking the bottle over.

“It’s my last bottle of my brother’s strongest brew. You had expressed that you wished you could have experienced some of my culture first hand. We enjoyed strong ale almost as much as we enjoyed our art. But don’t drink it all at once. The last elf that tried went blind. My brother had a tendency to brew it stronger than usual.”, Mysidia said and gave a half smile. It pained her to know that the last threads of her family were being kept in a fragile crystal shell.

“Oh, I don’t think I could take this from you…”, Tain said humbled at the gift.

“Please. I want you to have it. It’s nice to know that there are a few people left willing to keep alive old traditions…even if its through miswritten history books.”, Mysidia said. You could hear the tempered pain in her voice. No matter how many years had passed, it still stung a little.

Tain took the top off the bottle and ran it under his nose. He blinked a few times as the pungent aroma filled his nostrils and for a moment, you could see his pupils dilate.

“Oh…my…”, Tain said and started to sway in place. The Erudite wizard held him up for a few seconds while Tain regained his ground.

Mysidia laughed as she mounted her horse. They all waved to one another as the three of them cantered down the dirt beaten path.

It was nearly mid day when they finally were well into their travels. Mysidia was just drinking in the sights around her trying to remember the land that once was. For brief moments, she could recognize the world she knew in various boulders she remembers passing so many years ago. But like with most everything else Time touches, the terrain had changed and she was trying to learn where she was. Getting lost was not on the top of her To Do List.

When they rounded the corner, the wind picked up and carried a scent that was all too familiar to Mysidia. The scent was pungent enough to be that distinctual. It hung thickly to the wind like a tight hug. The moment it hit her face, she snorted and turned her head. The scent of Death usually does that to people.

“What’s wrong?”, James asked noticing her reaction.

“Ugh. Death. What could possibly be out that way for there to be such a stench like this? I don’t remember hearing about any recent battles…”, Mysidia said wrinkling her nose.

“They’re undead, Mysidia. After the gods turned their backs on us, several people formed sects and began to worship whatever suited their fancy. Some of the religious sects were peaceful, some were violent, and some were perverse, however, none of them lasted long. People need something to believe in, even if somewhere in the back of their minds, they know it to be false. All Norathians crave unity of some kind and faith can be a powerful thing that way. It’s easier to unify under one belief than anything else.”, James explained.

“You don’t have to tell me that faith is powerful. Entire races have been decimated for “faith”.”, Mysidia said in a snarkish tone.

James knew what her tone was about but didn’t really ask for her to specify. He knew what she was, but he didn’t really know who she was. And had her situation been his, he probably would have felt the same way, which is why he let the comment go.

They trotted up a large hill that overlooked a valley below. Mysidia rode her horse under the large tree to give her horse some well deserved shade. The sun was rather warm that day and she could smell the sweat coming off her horse.

Out in the distance, Mysidia could see a black plume of smoke. It was too small to be a simple campfire and it was large enough to send the warning signals it needed to.

“Where is that?”, Mysidia asked, jumping off her horse. She walked over to the saddle bags she had made from furs she got along the way and opened a few of them up, getting out her armor.

“That looks like it’s WindstalkerVillage…”, James said numbly. He knew deep down, that it was the village. They had problems with bandits before. Several humans broke off from Qeynos and Freeport to form their own alliance. They vandalized, robbed, and even pillaged some of the smaller villages on the outskirts, but Windstalker always had remained safe due to the guards that lived there. The bandits had tried to raid in the past, but their numbers were always held back because of the guards. Could it be that the bandits had risen enough numbers to pull off their biggest heist? James looked worried.

Aust turned around and saw Mysidia nearly dressed in her armor. She swung herself up in the saddle after watering her horse. She tightened her bracers on her arms and looked at them both.

“What are you planning?”, Aust asked.

“To see if they need any assistance. Plumes like that means whatever was done is over with. Black smoke means aftermath. How far is it from here to the village?”, Mysidia asked.

“Twenty minutes, fifteen if we ride hard.”, Aust said.

Aust had turned to James to ask if he was ready to leave. When Aust turned around to acknowledge their decent, Mysidia was already gone, tearing up the ground with fast moving hooves.

It took Aust and James nearly the entire run to catch up to Mysidia. She was flying her horse hard, trying to get to the village. The closer they came upon it, the graver the situation had become.

The stench of charred flesh, heat, and burning wood clung thickly to the air. Warped lines of heat distorted the view making it difficult to focus on the chaos around them. What Mysidia could make out was various people trying to find safety and helping those that could not walk on their own.

Mysidia quickly jumped off her horse and tried to help any and all she could. She looked at several of the women, who were badly beaten. Their open wounds on their faces were aggravated and bleeding. Scorch marks on their skin suggested they escaped their burning buildings with their lives.

She bent down to one that was in better shape than the rest and handed her several potions from one of her packs.

“Are you a cleric?”, she asked the woman. The woman shook her head. Mysidia quickly went over the particulars of how to apply the potions and what to look for. She then shouted to the women and asked who were clerics, shamans, and druids. A few of them raised their hands and she helped them attend to their wounds so that they could attend to the others.

“You all are going to have to set up triage. Work on only the ones you can save. Don’t waste your time on anything else.”, Mysidia said in a serious tone. She then turned to one of the younger women who appeared to be in shock at the carnage around her.

“Hey, what’s your name?”, Mysidia asked in a soothing tone.

“Sheena”, the girl said. Her voice was quiet and small, nearly lost among the dim of the chaos around her. She held her hands close to her dirt and tear streaked face. Her lip, bleeding, trembled under her building hysteria.

“Sheena, I’m going to need your help, okay? I need you to gather several long sticks to make litters for the wounded. Do you think you can do that for me?”, Mysidia asked placing a hand on her shoulder, hoping to knock Sheena out of her fog. The girl numbly nodded as the tears budded up in her eyes.

James and Aust came riding up moments later and Aust automatically went to see if any bandits were looting from the burning homes. James looked up at the Rydian woman, confused and stunned.

“How could this happen?”, James asked looking around.

“Later. I need you to tie the horses together and attach the litters that are going to be made. You are going to put the wounded on the litters and help take them to safety. That girl”, Mysidia pointed to Sheena, “will help you carry the wounded. The cliff we were on is safe enough for everyone. I have a healing team already tending to the wounded so you shouldn’t have to carry that many. I will meet you there when the threat here is over.”, Mysidia said and turned away.

Whether it was five hundred years or a thousand, time couldn’t change the nature of man. Where there was chaos, greed prevailed and usually controlled the desperate. Survival is a dangerous thing to play with. The moment you survive your catastrophe, life itself isn’t good enough and the greed immediately sets in. It explained the bandits that raped the village blind. It explained the two factions between good and evil. It explained a lot of things, including the motion of the world itself. Time will never change the nature of man so long as the spirit of competition still resides in them.

Mysidia withdrew her sword and walked deep into the thick of the carnage. Thick billows of smoke blew across the blood drenched path. Mysidia could barely make out a few strong bodied men, walking in a line, towards her. They fanned out across the path creating a body shield roadblock. They were bandits, and they had planned years for a raid on Windstalker. They were not about to give up their prize so easily.

The fact that the woman approached them alone intimidated some of them. She was either insane or just that good. Judging by her armor, she appeared to be Druid, and Warden or Fury, which alone is worth apprehension. If you can taste it, feel it, see it, hear it, smell it, see it above you, or stand on it, they can control it or manipulate it.

Mysidia didn’t say a word. She didn’t falter her steps nor did she speed up her movements. She simply walked up to one of them and sliced outward, gashing one of the men across the chest. The sound of metal slicing through bone meekly made it over the rushing sounds of fire. The man grabbed his profusely bleeding chest as he dropped to his knees.

The leader of the line of men growled at Mysidia and his dirt lined face sneered into a grimace of contempt. “That there was my brother, missy.”

“Oh…really?”, Mysidia said looking down at the man, “sorry to bring him into past tense.”

The bandit yelled on the top of his lungs and charged Mysidia, brandishing his daggers along with it. Mysidia swung her shield up to block his hand and shoved her arms to push the larger man back.

Aust and James both watched Mysidia and James shook his head in disbelief. “She has no fear, that woman.”

“No, an’ she never did either.”, a voice said behind them. Aust flashed around and unsheathed his weapons, not expecting to hear anyone behind him.

The man was larger than most Barbarians, Aust had ever seen. He easily towered over the Kerran and had short black hair and a scar over his right eye. His armor was dusty and blood stained, although by the looks of the man, it was probably more from his victims than it was from him. And his two handed sword was strapped securely to his back.

“How would you know?”, James asked, annoyed. He didn’t exactly like it when people snuck up behind him.

The man grinned and chuckled a bit at the rat. “Because… I’m ‘er brother, Kryimsson.”

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