Mountain range surrounding Skejagrr
6 months after Garbon’s death
“With spear in hand, she leapt towards the giants! Despite her injuries she fought with more ferocity than you would think possible! She bought dad enough time to limp away with me in a sling across his back…
“It wasn’t much later till he came across Aelorean’s Crossing. He set up there to take time and recover. To raise me to fight alongside him to save mom one day…!”
As Bax enthusiastically recounted his story, the sheep stared on with a vacant expression. It loudly bleated, spitting chewed grass onto Bax’s face.
Annoyed, he wiped the spittle from his face and whipped it to the ground. “Yeah well it was one of my favorite stories dad would tell growing up. I think it’s cool!” He exclaimed, aggressively pointing to his chest. “Whatever. You wouldn’t know a good story if it sheered all your wool and sold you for chops.”
The sheep went back to grazing and Bax crossed his left arm behind his head, falling back onto another sheep lying behind him. “Maybe I didn’t tell it right. When dad would tell it I’d get goosebumps every time. I dunno. What did you think?” He turned his head slightly in the direction of the sheep he was lying on. It let out an annoyed burp as it continued to try to sleep.
He laughed to himself, but immediately winced and grasped his side. In the evening prior, he had been hunting a particularly aggressive pack of wolves that had been harassing the surrounding tribes recently. Unfortunately, there was miscommunication between him and the broken common of the tribesman. While Bax had expected to find a pack of three to four wolves, he instead had encountered closer to eight.
In his hasty retreat from the battle, Bax had dived from one cliff to another, but slipped in his jump, missing the edge he had reached for. He fell thirty feet, impacting the ground hard, and knew immediately several ribs were cracked and he’d dislocated his right shoulder. The wolves howled at their weakened prey from above, and Bax had to force himself to continue running. And so he ran through the night, doing his best to throw off his pursuers. Only stopping briefly to throw his shoulder against a sturdy tree to force it back into place, barely containing a cry of pain. Finally, late into the morning, Bax came across a prairie filled with sheep that he felt relatively safe to stop and recover in.
His magic had proven to not be very effective at healing today, which wasn’t uncommon, but was frustrating given the current circumstances. When he tried sleeping, the adrenaline coursing through him wouldn’t allow rest. So instead he attempted to calm himself by retelling some of his favorite stories to his new wooly friends.
Recounting his father’s old tales, Bax is stirred when he hears wheels creaking and bumping along a rocky path. Despite his body’s protests, he forced himself to crawl along the ground towards the edge of the cliff the prairie was on. In the distance he could make out a wagon drawn by two horses. The wagon carried on it three Swan soldiers; one steering the horses, one sat next to him with a crossbow across their lap, and a final one sitting on top of a cage in back of the wagon.
That last soldier caught Bax’s attention as he noticed within the cage appeared to be two dwarves. He didn’t recognize them, but could only assume they had been kidnapped to be forced into the Swans’ mining efforts. Exhausted and in pain, Bax knew that his next actions were incredibly important. His shoulder wouldn’t be able to bear the strain of using his bow. And so, with his magic waning, he infused his legs with speed so as to sneak further down the road from the wagon. He was in no shape to fight head-on, so he would instead pose as a traveler in distress. Once he was close enough to the soldiers, he would knock them out and release the captives.
A short time later, Bax feigned a limp as he walked down the road, using his spear as support. His hood was up to keep his face covered, and he could see the cart approaching from around the corner.
The wagon slowed to a halt as Bax’s presence was announced by the driver of the cart. Bax continued to approach before having two crossbows leveled at him, stopping roughly thirty feet from the soldiers. They convened at the front of the wagon, and talked quietly amongst themselves to decide what to do about this vagabond in the road.
Great. After they talk, I’ll just let ‘em know I’ve been injured and need help. I’ll get closer to ‘em and then I can knock ‘em—
Before he could finish his thought, a crossbow bolt had lodged itself into Bax’s recently relocated shoulder. “Shit!” he cried out. Turning from the bolt in his shoulder back to the cart, he could see the soldier next to the driver reloading as the soldier on top of the cage was leveling their crossbow at Bax. Dodging to the side of the second bolt, he sprinted towards the wagon.
Bax took aim while running and launched his spear with his undamaged arm at the first soldier that fired. The spear lodged itself into the soldier’s throat and the force of the impact carried their body off the cart. Bax continued sprinting, drawing his two daggers from his belt, jumping onto the cart and springing past the driver towards the other crossbow armed soldier. He tackled the soldier with his left shoulder, propelling both of them off the cage. As they impacted the ground, Bax drove one dagger into the soldier’s stomach, the other into his throat.
As Bax crouched over the dead Swan soldier, a swift kick to his cracked, now broken, ribs reminds him of the remaining soldier. He dropped both daggers at this sudden loss of air. This last soldier raised a sword and Bax rolls away as the blade swings, narrowly missing and cleaving a line across his cheek and through his ear. Gasping for breath, Bax used his good arm to push the bolt sticking out of his shoulder through it entirely. He howled as the arrow head pierced the back of his shoulder, but once it was through he reached over and pulled it out completely, twisting it around in his hand to wield as a dagger.
As Bax staggered to his feet, the soldier lunged, thrusting his sword towards his prey’s sternum. Bax spun to the side of the blade. Once he was closer, he forced the crossbow bolt into the ditch of the soldier’s elbow, between the armor. The soldier cried out, dropping the sword at the sudden loss of strength in his arm. Bax ducked, catching the sword before it could touched the ground, and swung at an upward angle, splitting the soldier’s face in two.
He dropped the sword, breathing heavily, grasping his shoulder in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Looking over the two soldiers at his feet, Bax felt a tinge of frustration and respect.
It didn’t have to happen like this. No one had to die today. But you all fought bravely…
“Respect the Hu—-” Bax was cut off as a familiar sensation coursed through his knee. He fell hard, and quickly turned to see the first soldier, with the spear stuck in his throat, was still alive. He had reloaded during Bax’s fight with the other two soldiers and was attempting to reload another time. He gurgled on blood and coughed, dropping his weapon and was now too weak to pick it up again. After a few seconds, he stopped trying to reach for the crossbow and fell still.
His vision blurred, Bax peered around to see if more soldiers would be arriving to use him as target practice. Instead he only saw the pair of dwarves, silently watching their would be savior. “Right,” he started, through heavy breaths. “I’ll be honest, I nearly forgot about you guys…”
He crawled over to the lead soldier that had been steering the cart to look over the corpse. After a moment he managed to find a set of keys. After several attempts, Bax managed to pull himself onto his feet, and limped over to the cart, where he was able to unlock the cage and set free the dwarves. They both seemed appreciative, and shared large smiles and hugs, but Bax had no idea what they were actually saying.
He attempted to wave them off, and started to limp away. He had to get away from here; the last thing he wanted to do was leave any implications of his saving or working with the surrounding tribes and possibly place targets on them. “You guys should get outta here. I’m not sure when the next Swan patrol will be passing—-”
His vision blurred more harshly and suddenly blacked out. He could feel his face impacting the cold stone and dirt of the road. Before losing consciousness entirely Bax had a final thought.
Oh shit. Blood loss.
The sensation of weighted warmth was the first thing to greet Bax when he awoke. As much as he wanted to indefinitely exist in this moment, he had to force his eye open to confirm if he was safe. However he found he could only open his eye partially. Using his left hand to check himself, he could feel that his eye and cheek were swollen from when the soldier had slashed him. But he felt that he was also bandaged…
He tried to sit up but an intense pain kept him on his back as he breathed harshly through gritted teeth at the sudden discomfort. So he used his good arm to throw back the hides and blankets covering him and could see that his right arm, ribs, and knee were wrapped in clean bandages.
Looking around, Bax could partially make out that he appeared to be in a tent. Though there was no sunlight, and he seemed to be surrounded by barrels. Possibly to hide him from intrusive eyes. Did those dwarves bring him here? As he was still gathering his thoughts, a person, one he couldn’t see clearly, walked through the entrance of the tent. They halted upon seeing Bax and ran out. He tried to say something but could only get out a dry cough.
A short time later, a large, barrel chested figure with pale, charcoal hair and a long beard appeared and set a stool next to where Bax layed. It took Bax a moment to realize that this was Veskrr, the Goliath leader of the Skejagrr tribe. He had only interacted with him a handful of times since leaving Northgate, but Bax had much respect for this man. He and the rest of the tribe had been willing to trade with him when he first showed up months ago, and Bax hadn’t forgotten that kindness.
Bax tried to greet Veskrr in the Skejagrr style they had shown him some time back, but his body refused to cooperate. Everything hurt too much to allow for movement. Veskrr took notice of this and held up a hand and shook his head, “No move. Rest. You.”
His accent was thick, and he spoke slowly, but he was familiar enough with Common to communicate simple words and ideas. And Bax was thankful for this, as most Jorunguns he had crossed paths with knew even less.
At Veskrr’s suggestion, Bax relaxed. He would listen to what the tribe leader wanted to say.
Veskrr continued, “You. Help. Family. Have thank.” He bowed his head with the last phrase, and Bax felt a wave of intimidation wash over him. He didn’t feel he deserved thanks, he was just trying to help. And he suddenly wished his body was well enough to run away from this conversation.
“You now. Heal. Rest. Leave after. Better.” Veskrr then pointed at his neck, then pointed at Bax. So he lifted his hand to his neck and noticed for the first time a piece of metal was fit snug around his neck, tied off at the front with thick string. Bax looked up at Veskrr with a confused expression, waiting for him to continue.
He instead repeated himself, “You. Help. Family. Have thank,” and the giant of a man shared a warm smile, which looked out of place against his harsh features. He bent down and gently placed a giant hand over Bax’s chest. “Rest.” He then walked out, leaving Bax to sit with his thoughts. He didn’t think he deserved a gift, he was only trying to help. But he chose to accept the necklace graciously rather than try to argue with the 8 foot man seemingly made of stone.
Bax didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but he had to assume that it was a new day. So under the blankets, he focused on his hand and placed it against his knee. Slowly, he could feel his healing magic seeping into his joint, easing the pain and closing the wound. Before he continued with healing more of his injuries, Bax smirked to himself and closed his eyes, snuggling further under the blankets. Maybe one more day of warm rest wouldn’t be too bad.
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