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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1469040" data-attributes="member: 15043">Marching off to WarThe next morning, in the army camp...Next Morning... Day 3 for Those Keeping Track at Home“Barachis!” Elenya heard in her sleep, and woke with a start.   The nascent light of a newly risen sun burned through a flap in the tent onto her cot.  She rubbed her eyes, and looked up towards the large darkened figure that blocked the entrance.“Mmmm,” she groaned, sitting up.  “On my way, Captain.”She was used to this drill... and within twenty seconds she had slipped on some shoes and was following Wynistra Vilhoma towards the area of camp set up for healers.  Vilhoma, the Chief Healer, was a hulking, large woman, rotund and built like a warthog.  The nurses had nicknamed her “Captain” after watching her berate and frighten a high ranking officer who dared to violate some of the protocols of being in the healer’s area.“Two scouts came back today, poison arrows,” Wynistra said to Elenya.  “We tried to use mundane ways of removing them, but they won’t budge.  Your magical touch is needed.”In the healer’s area, most often when wounded arrived, non-magical, sometimes brutal methods would be used to treat common wounds.  Magic was officially reserved only for the nobility, commanders, and very special cases.  This was one of those.“They murmured something about enemies ahead... information I’m sure the commanders would like to have.  So,” Wynistra turned and entered a tent, “you need to keep them alive until then at least.”  Elenya nodded.Her eyes took a few moments to adjust to the inside of one of the healer tents, and her nose wished it had such a luxury.  The smell of decay, and blood assaulted her nose, as moans from the two men filled her ears.  Some of the other nurses looked on, pale... clearly this was their first time seeing a wounded man.  Elenya merely walked forward to look them over, and ascertain what spell exactly to use.The first was a very young man, perhaps her age.  He had been wearing a chain shirt, but it had been yanked up towards his upper chest, exposing the long, thin shaft of an arrow rising from his quivering belly.  His breathing was inconsistent, and raspy, as his eyes bulged out with pain so great that he could not even cry out.Carefully Elenya placed her hands around the spot where the arrow came out of his body, and focused her mind.  Her wizard’s training was pushed aside... this called for the practical, innate magic she had learned long before she had seen a spellbook, let alone learned to shoot lightning bolts.  Healing magic.”Foge austrantniki ausperius nemogi,” she said quietly, and gave a slight tug on the shaft of the arrow.  It held for a few seconds, before rising as she pulled.  Within second she had its barbed tip removed from the man’s belly.  She then looked into the wound, and saw her healing spell had the desired effect; there was a blue liquid concentrated at the bottom of the wound, in a pool.  She bent over, and careful sucked the blue poison out, spitting each mouthful on the ground.  Another minor healing spell later, and hte wound closed, leaving a scar that would fade over the course of the day.She found the other man in similar straits, and conducting similar magic upon him.  While both still lay in pain, that would abate over the next few hours... and neither faced any risk anymore from the arrows inside of them.  As Elenya sighed, she noticed the other nurses looking on, in a little bit of wonder.   She flashed them a grin.Now you see what pregnant people can do? she smiled as she handed the two arrows to Wynistra.  “I’m thinking Lord Lucius or one of the commanders might want to see these.  They might tell at least who attacked these men, even if they were ambushed and never saw their assailants...””In Chandriol Wood?” Lucius asked with concern as Xanadu rode alongside later that day.“Yes... thats where they were.  They were attacked by two men with... foxes’ heads,” Xanadu said, glancing over a parchment report given to him.  He handed the paper to Lucius, who scanned it, and then handed it back.  The young noble grabbed his reins a little tighter.  I need to see what’s up there.”Don’t even think about that, Luke,” Xanadu scolded.  “I’m not letting you go riding up there yourself to see whats going on!”  “Xanny!  Someone needs to scout it out... and what better way to shut up the Diogenes in this army than for their commander to get blooded before them?” Lucius pleaded.“No.  I made a promise to Siabrey that I wouldn’t let you be reckless,” the half elf said.  “Stay with the army... you can look at the woods as we all march through them.” Lucius started to spur on his horse, when he heard the dragon say something completely unexpected.“Please.  For Siabrey’s sake at least.”Luicus loosened the reins, He’s right.. Siabrey wouldn’t want me doing that.  I’ll... I’ll stay back.”Alright,” Lucius said with a sigh.  “I’ll stay back.  But we need some scouts up there to figure out what’s going on...”  Maybe General Diogenes was right... a small part of Luke’s mind worried.<a href="http://www.enworld.org/forums/gallery/displayimage.php?pos=-160" target="_blank">Picture of the Imperial Army Marching (Sketch Started by EV)</a> That little inkling of doubt remained with Lucius as the day went on, building and growing, larger and larger, as he took more reports in from scouts and guides.  Indeed, some of the mongrels had taken position in the Chandriol Woods, though the vanguard of his columns easily pushed them aside.  The few prisoners taken by his vanguard units (mostly parts of Holgren’s troops) stated that the mongel’s were still on the other side of the Inerman, several days from crossing.  He initially would not have trusted their words, save it was entirely apparent these mongrels.... especially the fox headed ones... were nothing more than mercenaries... they followed for money, not any particular loyalty.Because of the need for a few extra hours march, taking reports, and interviewing prisoners, Lucius didn’t get to sit down in a made tent until later than normal.  As opposed to his normal routine of taking time to scan reports and dictate orders, his tired and frustrated mind had one thing occupying it...  the book.  His mind was already fuming over what to write... Diogenes being mouthy and his troops deploying slowly during one skirmish?  The muddy state of the roads?  His own frustration with himself?</blockquote>

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