Elendor
A beastly tale
Brev eavesdrops on Laoghaire's men, whilst Carac faces a mountain lion
Sort Date: no date set
Location: Caerdh
Game Date: 18 of May in the year 3046
IC Time: Dawn
Description:
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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Sun Mar 08 15:40:34 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: moderate - Snow: powdery
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Dawn
IC date is: Mersday, Day 18 of May in the year 3046.
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[Carac(#32384)] Hiding during the day and moving only at night, Carac and his small group have slowly made their way south through the mass of living green that is the Caerdh forest. Now as dawn breaks over the land, the group has stopped once again. A cave on one of the steep forested slopes will serve as shelter until the moon rises once more.
Somewhere in the retreating darkness the death cries of some small animal can be heard as one of the forests larger residents claims it for dinner. Carac turns towards this sound and frowns slightly. "We'll need to double the guard," he says to his small band. "We're on the edge of Maulduin's land and there may be patrols." He chuckles and then turns back to the group. "Besides I don't to be woke up to find out we're in the home of whatever is hunting out there when it's finished with its dinner."
For one in hiding from his own clan and marching towards likely death in the Forgoil lands, Brev seems in remarkably good spirits. Perhaps time spent cooped up in Ranich's hidden valley, where life changes only the slow rhythm of the seasons, induces a certain recklessness in one. Whatever the reason, Carac's announcement is met with a snort and a smirk. "Ah, so I take it you'd prefer us to leave you sleeping, then? I'll make sure not to disturb you when the rest of us leave." That offer made, he adds, the mirth fading. "I'll go and take a look, if you like. Hope it's not another of those bloody bears." His features twist in a grimace.
[Carac(#32384)] With a laugh Carac shakes his head. "If it's a choice between being dinner or woken up, I'd prefer to be woken up. Preferably before the first bite is taken from my hide."
He glances down towards the valley once more and shakes his head. "I think it would be best if we stayed close to the cave," he says then. "In fact it would probably be a good idea to go inside and make sure there's nothing already sleeping in there."
Brev sighs at the other's decision. "Suppose you're right," he concedes. "Though I'm at less risk than you, can always claim Fian Ranich sent me south with some message." He glances toward the cave-mouth with clear reluctance, then, with a flourish of his free arm (the other cradles the spear he's managed to beg, borrow or maybe even trade from someone), replies gallantly, "In that case - after you." It's clear he's more comfortable out in the open, risk of watchers or no.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac considers this for a moment. "You maybe right," he says after a moment. "Would be a help to know if there's anything that lies ahead of us." He glances towards the mouth of the cave and then gives a nod.
"Alright," he says. "Go see what you can find out, but don't stray too far out. If Ranich sent out any messages, there's a good chance they'd have gotten ahead of us. Maulduin may already know you're with us. So be careful."
Brev scowls at that. "True. Ach, if worst comes to worst I'll think of something. Mind you don't wake any sleeping monsters, eh?" He steps away from that dark cave-mouth with clear relief, and into the concealing boughs of the forest, where the half-light has not yet penetrated. All seems bleached to grey-black.
His tread is slow and careful, and his head is tilted as he listens to the nightly rustlings for any sign of disturbance.
[Carac(#32384)] Not far from the steep slope where Carac and the rest our hiding is the main roadway that traverses Caerdh county. Despite the early hour, there is much activity and noise coming from this direction. The noise seems to be coming from a camp that has been set up along the roadside, where two score of men begin the process of breaking down the shelters and preparing to continue their journey.
This close to Maulduin lands one would expect these to be Maulduin guardsmen, but the banner that flies over the camp is that of the Ceann de Bear, and Gregoir, himself can be seen amongst those tearing down the camp.
Brev freezes at the sound of voices, and drops down behind the nearest cover, a stand of bracken. Cautiously he peers out at the men down below, and his amber eyes narrow a little at the sight of that one unmistakeable figure. He chews thoughtfully on his lip - of course, this may be a mere courtesy visit. But if not ...
Painstakingly he begins to worm his way along the forest edge, around tree-boles and through the carpet of moss and bilberry, until he has reached a little clump of furze bushes - nearer he dare not go - and there he lies hid, still as a hind. Perhaps the southwesterly breeze may carry some snatches of conversation his way.
[Carac(#32384)] ". . . claims to have been with the Hawk," Gregoir is saying to the man nearest him as they pull the stakes for one of the tents. The wind subsides for a moment and then picks up again carrying more of the conversation upon its invisible fingers. ". . . working for Brodie, but is willing to speak to me, which has my grandfather in fits," Gregoir continues with a laugh. "Won't tell him a damn thing."
Brev's mouth sets in a tight line as the peculiar snatches of conversation are noted. Carefully he lifts his head a fraction that he may note as best he may the number of men, their weaponry and the general mood of the camp, whether the tasks being carried out convey routine or urgency. And more importantly still, whether any men stray from the bounds of the camp being dismantled. Is his precarious refuge at any risk?
[Carac(#32384)] With no reports of orcs coming from the north, and being upon 'friendly' land, no sentries have been posted outside the camp perimeter and the men seem mostly unconcerned with their surroundings. That is until another of those death cries like the one heard early sounds in the near distance.
As the entire camp turns in the direction of this sound, Gregoir points to a pair of nearby men. "Go see what that was," he commands. "We don't need anything coming upon us when we're nearly to grandfather's."
With a nod of acceptance the two move off cautiously in the direction the sound came.
Brev's jaw tightens as the cry comes from nearby, but he makes no other response - unless, that is, one counts the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. As the two men move away from the camp perimeter and come marching through the bracken he lies absolutely still, trusting in lack of motion and the screen of bushes to conceal him from view. Death by spear to the nether regions would be most undignified.
[Carac(#32384)] Gregoir watches the pair move off and then turns towards the man he was speaking with earlier. "Let's you an I check in that direction," he says pointing towards a group of bushes to the northeast of the camp. "Something about them is giving me a queasy feeling," he says. "Almost as if something's watching us . . ." he breaks off and then the pair, still unarmed head towards the bushes while the other pair of searches head in a more northwest direction.
Brev, of course, is not unarmed. The spear lies useless, but his hand closes round the tarnished hilt of his dagger, as though for comfort. Two men, one dagger - and no doubt at least a dozen bowmen down in camp. Besides, would killing the Ceann de Bear in any way serve Carac's goals? His lips move as though in silent prayer ... or perhaps he is merely rehearsing what lie he will spill if he is found.
[Carac(#32384)] Gregoir and his companion near the bushes and are about to press through the screen when a call comes from the other pair. "Seen it, Ceann!" one calls loudly pointing towards the west with his spear. "Looks like its a mountain cat, pretty big one too, but seems to be heading away from us."
Gregoir stops at the bushes edge and looks in the direction the other guard indicates for a moment, before glancing towards the bushes once more. "Let's be on our way then," he says turning away from the bushes. "I want to hear what this Tavish or whatever he's calling himself now, has to say." One final glance towards the bushes and then a shake of his head and he steps back towards the camp.
The bushes quiver slightly in the breeze. Only when the encampment is safely on the move will they do more than that. Brev's amber eyes have widened slightly at the mention of Tavish, but he is well-schooled enough in such matters that not the slightest sound escapes his lips. If he marks Gregoir's rather odd preoccupation with the furze where he lies hid, there is no visible sign of it. Instead he merely waits, patiently, for the Ceann and his folk to be on their way. Then, and only then, will he begin the arduous process of edging carefully back into the forest depths and returning to camp.
[Carac(#32384)] Without further interference the men of the Ceann's party finish packing up camp and head onwards towards Cragh na Dun at a slow meandering pace.
Which is a good thing since, a loud shrieking noise suddenly erupts from the slope where the cave hiding Carac and the others is situated. This is followed by a very human sounding cry of pain, followed by a voice raised in earnest, though the words are lost in the wind.
Brev's slow progress is far from done when the ear-splitting wail erupts behind him. At the human cry that follows his features pale, and he doubles his pace. Broken twigs and crushed bracken will give testament to the next section of his passage, should any choose to seek for it. Once he is safe within the forest's cloak of dimness, he straightens and moves forward at a steady lope, the spear no longer cradled in the crook of his arm but held ready in his right hand. His movement is still cautious, lest there be more than one maker of those ear-splitting shrieks.
[Carac(#32384)] The shrieks are not human in origin, but come from the large mountain cat which roars with rage at finding humans within its den. Carac stands at the mouth of the cave, awkwardly trying to fend the beast back with a spear. So far, his jabs and feints have kept the animal at bay, but the Hawk's unfamiliarity with the weapon are beginning to show and the cat is able to creep closer and closer.
The narrow ridge and steep slope of the hillside prevent others from coming out to assist with the fight and Carac's position in front of the cave mouth makes it impossible for those with bows to attempt a shot without risking the chance of hitting Carac.
"Kiern!" That single oath escapes Brev's lips as his gaze falls on the scene. Automatically he stretches with his free hand toward his boot, reaching for a throwing-dagger that is no longer there. His arm brushes against the pouch that holds stones for his sling, but it is ignored - there is so little time, and if a bowshot risks wounding Carac, how much more the capricious cast from a sling?
In the end he shifts the spear briefly to his other hand and draws the heavier dagger hung at his belt. This is hurled toward the creeping, dodging shape with all the force and accuracy he can muster. Then there is naught to do but grip the spear in both hands and wait for the missile to attract great cat's attention - if the sound and scent of one more human have not done that already.
[Carac(#32384)] The thrown dagger does indeed draw the cat's attention and it's head swings towards this new threat. The cat bares its teeth and releases another of those all too human sounding shrieks as it searches for where the dagger came from.
With the cat's attention turned from him, Carac lunges forward and slashes at the creatures flank with the head of his spear. However, the steep slope prooves to precarious for such a quick movement and Carac's footing falters and begins to tumble down the hillside, his spear lost in attempt to grab hold of something to catch his fall.
There is new sweat beading Brev's brow at the sound of the great cat's cry. For a moment the man stands rooted to the spot, whether by fear or design who can say? But then Carac tumbles and the time for waiting is over. Brev skids across the slope toward the beast, his spear held firmly two-handed, its shining tip lunging toward the opposite flank of the cat to that attacked by Carac.
[Carac(#32384)] The tip of Brev's spear slashes deep into the cat's flank and it let's out another blood curdling shriek. Unable to retreat do to the figures that now file out of the unblocked cave, the cat has no choice but to try and make it's escape through Brev. One paw, tipped with razor sharp claws, swings towards its target in an attempt to clear the path to escape.
Carac has managed to regain his footing, but being unarmed can be little aid to Brev at the moment. Still, he makes an attempt, grabbing a nice sized stone from the hillside he flings it at the creature.
If Brev were aware of the cat's intent, doubtless he would be only to happy to aid it. As it is, he is aware only of the claws that rake across his shoulder, leaving burning trails, when mere human fleetness is outmatched by feline. He staggers a few steps sideways, taking him round towards the rear of the cat, but then, jaw clenched tightly, he attempts to strike at the beast again, the spear-tip once more aiming for that broken flank though this time from behind. Perhaps, if fortune favours him, Carac's stone will divert the creature at the crucial moment.
[Carac(#32384)] It is not Carac's stone which diverts the cat from trying to further rend Brev's flesh from his bones, but an arrow, nearly a yard in length which suddenly pierces through the throat of the creature. It's mouth opens to shriek once more, but all that comes forth is a gurgling croak as blood pours from the cat's mouth and it slumps forward in death.
Carac does not look to see who shot, but dashes towards Brev and the now silent creature. "Breveg!" he cries as he half runs, half stumbles across the uneven slope.
Dawn has broken by now, and the first red rays of the spring sun cast their long fingers against the slope outside the cave where Carac's band had taken refuge. They fall on the body of a huge mountain cat, lying dead with spear-slashes on both flanks and an arrow through its throat, and on the two men who have faced it.
For a long moment there is no response at all to Carac's shout. But Brev is still standing, although the spear has become a staff, the fingers of his left hand clamped tightly around it as the man wavers. His right arm hangs limply by his side - but again, he still has it. "Kiern!" He manages an acknowledgement for Carac, if not a smile. The word is closely followed by others, forced out through gritted teeth: "Bag. Need my bag." And then, as some measure of lucidity returns, a single statement of warning, "Tavish."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks over Brev closely as he finally makes his way to his friends side, not paying any attention to the younger man's words for the moment. "Someone get Brev's bag!" he shouts up towards those who are now outside the cave. "NOW!" he adds more authoritively.
Then turning back to his friend he tries to put a reassuring hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Sit," he says softly. "Just sit down and rest, your bag will be here shortly." He wipes a hand nervously across his brow. "Tavish?" he asks then. "Did you see him while you were scouting?"
Brev not so much sits as collapses to a sitting position under Carac's gentle push, the spear clattering onto the stony ground. "No," he murmurs, then closes his eyes, trying to summon memory and banish the insistent awareness of pain and nausea. "I saw ... Laoghaire and his men, visiting ... Maulduin. Heard ... someone with Hawk, working for Brodie. Don't .. tell him anything ... Laoghaire said. Then he said .. Tavish."
Having reached the end of his message, he opens his eyes and says quite clearly, "No more bloody caves." The words are accompanied by a glare.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac frowns at these words, but does not question Breveg further. One of the Hawk arrive with the called for bag and kneels down to try and tend to the injured Brev. Carac watches momentarily and then looks off towards the direction of Mathain. "Rest now, Brev," he says turning back. "We'll talk more afterwards."
He then looks towards the dead cat and gives a small shake of his head. "Too bad it had to die," he says. "Thing has probably been feasting off Maulduin's livestock and been a pain in the Fian's arse for years." Then he begins the climb back up towards the gave, giving orders for others to help with carrying Brev up to safety.
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Dunland Time and Weather Forecast
===============================================================================
Real Time is: Sun Mar 08 15:40:34 2009
IC weather is: Wind: - Clouds: moderate - Snow: powdery
IC Moon is: Not visible
IC time is: Dawn
IC date is: Mersday, Day 18 of May in the year 3046.
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[Carac(#32384)] Hiding during the day and moving only at night, Carac and his small group have slowly made their way south through the mass of living green that is the Caerdh forest. Now as dawn breaks over the land, the group has stopped once again. A cave on one of the steep forested slopes will serve as shelter until the moon rises once more.
Somewhere in the retreating darkness the death cries of some small animal can be heard as one of the forests larger residents claims it for dinner. Carac turns towards this sound and frowns slightly. "We'll need to double the guard," he says to his small band. "We're on the edge of Maulduin's land and there may be patrols." He chuckles and then turns back to the group. "Besides I don't to be woke up to find out we're in the home of whatever is hunting out there when it's finished with its dinner."
For one in hiding from his own clan and marching towards likely death in the Forgoil lands, Brev seems in remarkably good spirits. Perhaps time spent cooped up in Ranich's hidden valley, where life changes only the slow rhythm of the seasons, induces a certain recklessness in one. Whatever the reason, Carac's announcement is met with a snort and a smirk. "Ah, so I take it you'd prefer us to leave you sleeping, then? I'll make sure not to disturb you when the rest of us leave." That offer made, he adds, the mirth fading. "I'll go and take a look, if you like. Hope it's not another of those bloody bears." His features twist in a grimace.
[Carac(#32384)] With a laugh Carac shakes his head. "If it's a choice between being dinner or woken up, I'd prefer to be woken up. Preferably before the first bite is taken from my hide."
He glances down towards the valley once more and shakes his head. "I think it would be best if we stayed close to the cave," he says then. "In fact it would probably be a good idea to go inside and make sure there's nothing already sleeping in there."
Brev sighs at the other's decision. "Suppose you're right," he concedes. "Though I'm at less risk than you, can always claim Fian Ranich sent me south with some message." He glances toward the cave-mouth with clear reluctance, then, with a flourish of his free arm (the other cradles the spear he's managed to beg, borrow or maybe even trade from someone), replies gallantly, "In that case - after you." It's clear he's more comfortable out in the open, risk of watchers or no.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac considers this for a moment. "You maybe right," he says after a moment. "Would be a help to know if there's anything that lies ahead of us." He glances towards the mouth of the cave and then gives a nod.
"Alright," he says. "Go see what you can find out, but don't stray too far out. If Ranich sent out any messages, there's a good chance they'd have gotten ahead of us. Maulduin may already know you're with us. So be careful."
Brev scowls at that. "True. Ach, if worst comes to worst I'll think of something. Mind you don't wake any sleeping monsters, eh?" He steps away from that dark cave-mouth with clear relief, and into the concealing boughs of the forest, where the half-light has not yet penetrated. All seems bleached to grey-black.
His tread is slow and careful, and his head is tilted as he listens to the nightly rustlings for any sign of disturbance.
[Carac(#32384)] Not far from the steep slope where Carac and the rest our hiding is the main roadway that traverses Caerdh county. Despite the early hour, there is much activity and noise coming from this direction. The noise seems to be coming from a camp that has been set up along the roadside, where two score of men begin the process of breaking down the shelters and preparing to continue their journey.
This close to Maulduin lands one would expect these to be Maulduin guardsmen, but the banner that flies over the camp is that of the Ceann de Bear, and Gregoir, himself can be seen amongst those tearing down the camp.
Brev freezes at the sound of voices, and drops down behind the nearest cover, a stand of bracken. Cautiously he peers out at the men down below, and his amber eyes narrow a little at the sight of that one unmistakeable figure. He chews thoughtfully on his lip - of course, this may be a mere courtesy visit. But if not ...
Painstakingly he begins to worm his way along the forest edge, around tree-boles and through the carpet of moss and bilberry, until he has reached a little clump of furze bushes - nearer he dare not go - and there he lies hid, still as a hind. Perhaps the southwesterly breeze may carry some snatches of conversation his way.
[Carac(#32384)] ". . . claims to have been with the Hawk," Gregoir is saying to the man nearest him as they pull the stakes for one of the tents. The wind subsides for a moment and then picks up again carrying more of the conversation upon its invisible fingers. ". . . working for Brodie, but is willing to speak to me, which has my grandfather in fits," Gregoir continues with a laugh. "Won't tell him a damn thing."
Brev's mouth sets in a tight line as the peculiar snatches of conversation are noted. Carefully he lifts his head a fraction that he may note as best he may the number of men, their weaponry and the general mood of the camp, whether the tasks being carried out convey routine or urgency. And more importantly still, whether any men stray from the bounds of the camp being dismantled. Is his precarious refuge at any risk?
[Carac(#32384)] With no reports of orcs coming from the north, and being upon 'friendly' land, no sentries have been posted outside the camp perimeter and the men seem mostly unconcerned with their surroundings. That is until another of those death cries like the one heard early sounds in the near distance.
As the entire camp turns in the direction of this sound, Gregoir points to a pair of nearby men. "Go see what that was," he commands. "We don't need anything coming upon us when we're nearly to grandfather's."
With a nod of acceptance the two move off cautiously in the direction the sound came.
Brev's jaw tightens as the cry comes from nearby, but he makes no other response - unless, that is, one counts the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. As the two men move away from the camp perimeter and come marching through the bracken he lies absolutely still, trusting in lack of motion and the screen of bushes to conceal him from view. Death by spear to the nether regions would be most undignified.
[Carac(#32384)] Gregoir watches the pair move off and then turns towards the man he was speaking with earlier. "Let's you an I check in that direction," he says pointing towards a group of bushes to the northeast of the camp. "Something about them is giving me a queasy feeling," he says. "Almost as if something's watching us . . ." he breaks off and then the pair, still unarmed head towards the bushes while the other pair of searches head in a more northwest direction.
Brev, of course, is not unarmed. The spear lies useless, but his hand closes round the tarnished hilt of his dagger, as though for comfort. Two men, one dagger - and no doubt at least a dozen bowmen down in camp. Besides, would killing the Ceann de Bear in any way serve Carac's goals? His lips move as though in silent prayer ... or perhaps he is merely rehearsing what lie he will spill if he is found.
[Carac(#32384)] Gregoir and his companion near the bushes and are about to press through the screen when a call comes from the other pair. "Seen it, Ceann!" one calls loudly pointing towards the west with his spear. "Looks like its a mountain cat, pretty big one too, but seems to be heading away from us."
Gregoir stops at the bushes edge and looks in the direction the other guard indicates for a moment, before glancing towards the bushes once more. "Let's be on our way then," he says turning away from the bushes. "I want to hear what this Tavish or whatever he's calling himself now, has to say." One final glance towards the bushes and then a shake of his head and he steps back towards the camp.
The bushes quiver slightly in the breeze. Only when the encampment is safely on the move will they do more than that. Brev's amber eyes have widened slightly at the mention of Tavish, but he is well-schooled enough in such matters that not the slightest sound escapes his lips. If he marks Gregoir's rather odd preoccupation with the furze where he lies hid, there is no visible sign of it. Instead he merely waits, patiently, for the Ceann and his folk to be on their way. Then, and only then, will he begin the arduous process of edging carefully back into the forest depths and returning to camp.
[Carac(#32384)] Without further interference the men of the Ceann's party finish packing up camp and head onwards towards Cragh na Dun at a slow meandering pace.
Which is a good thing since, a loud shrieking noise suddenly erupts from the slope where the cave hiding Carac and the others is situated. This is followed by a very human sounding cry of pain, followed by a voice raised in earnest, though the words are lost in the wind.
Brev's slow progress is far from done when the ear-splitting wail erupts behind him. At the human cry that follows his features pale, and he doubles his pace. Broken twigs and crushed bracken will give testament to the next section of his passage, should any choose to seek for it. Once he is safe within the forest's cloak of dimness, he straightens and moves forward at a steady lope, the spear no longer cradled in the crook of his arm but held ready in his right hand. His movement is still cautious, lest there be more than one maker of those ear-splitting shrieks.
[Carac(#32384)] The shrieks are not human in origin, but come from the large mountain cat which roars with rage at finding humans within its den. Carac stands at the mouth of the cave, awkwardly trying to fend the beast back with a spear. So far, his jabs and feints have kept the animal at bay, but the Hawk's unfamiliarity with the weapon are beginning to show and the cat is able to creep closer and closer.
The narrow ridge and steep slope of the hillside prevent others from coming out to assist with the fight and Carac's position in front of the cave mouth makes it impossible for those with bows to attempt a shot without risking the chance of hitting Carac.
"Kiern!" That single oath escapes Brev's lips as his gaze falls on the scene. Automatically he stretches with his free hand toward his boot, reaching for a throwing-dagger that is no longer there. His arm brushes against the pouch that holds stones for his sling, but it is ignored - there is so little time, and if a bowshot risks wounding Carac, how much more the capricious cast from a sling?
In the end he shifts the spear briefly to his other hand and draws the heavier dagger hung at his belt. This is hurled toward the creeping, dodging shape with all the force and accuracy he can muster. Then there is naught to do but grip the spear in both hands and wait for the missile to attract great cat's attention - if the sound and scent of one more human have not done that already.
[Carac(#32384)] The thrown dagger does indeed draw the cat's attention and it's head swings towards this new threat. The cat bares its teeth and releases another of those all too human sounding shrieks as it searches for where the dagger came from.
With the cat's attention turned from him, Carac lunges forward and slashes at the creatures flank with the head of his spear. However, the steep slope prooves to precarious for such a quick movement and Carac's footing falters and begins to tumble down the hillside, his spear lost in attempt to grab hold of something to catch his fall.
There is new sweat beading Brev's brow at the sound of the great cat's cry. For a moment the man stands rooted to the spot, whether by fear or design who can say? But then Carac tumbles and the time for waiting is over. Brev skids across the slope toward the beast, his spear held firmly two-handed, its shining tip lunging toward the opposite flank of the cat to that attacked by Carac.
[Carac(#32384)] The tip of Brev's spear slashes deep into the cat's flank and it let's out another blood curdling shriek. Unable to retreat do to the figures that now file out of the unblocked cave, the cat has no choice but to try and make it's escape through Brev. One paw, tipped with razor sharp claws, swings towards its target in an attempt to clear the path to escape.
Carac has managed to regain his footing, but being unarmed can be little aid to Brev at the moment. Still, he makes an attempt, grabbing a nice sized stone from the hillside he flings it at the creature.
If Brev were aware of the cat's intent, doubtless he would be only to happy to aid it. As it is, he is aware only of the claws that rake across his shoulder, leaving burning trails, when mere human fleetness is outmatched by feline. He staggers a few steps sideways, taking him round towards the rear of the cat, but then, jaw clenched tightly, he attempts to strike at the beast again, the spear-tip once more aiming for that broken flank though this time from behind. Perhaps, if fortune favours him, Carac's stone will divert the creature at the crucial moment.
[Carac(#32384)] It is not Carac's stone which diverts the cat from trying to further rend Brev's flesh from his bones, but an arrow, nearly a yard in length which suddenly pierces through the throat of the creature. It's mouth opens to shriek once more, but all that comes forth is a gurgling croak as blood pours from the cat's mouth and it slumps forward in death.
Carac does not look to see who shot, but dashes towards Brev and the now silent creature. "Breveg!" he cries as he half runs, half stumbles across the uneven slope.
Dawn has broken by now, and the first red rays of the spring sun cast their long fingers against the slope outside the cave where Carac's band had taken refuge. They fall on the body of a huge mountain cat, lying dead with spear-slashes on both flanks and an arrow through its throat, and on the two men who have faced it.
For a long moment there is no response at all to Carac's shout. But Brev is still standing, although the spear has become a staff, the fingers of his left hand clamped tightly around it as the man wavers. His right arm hangs limply by his side - but again, he still has it. "Kiern!" He manages an acknowledgement for Carac, if not a smile. The word is closely followed by others, forced out through gritted teeth: "Bag. Need my bag." And then, as some measure of lucidity returns, a single statement of warning, "Tavish."
[Carac(#32384)] Carac looks over Brev closely as he finally makes his way to his friends side, not paying any attention to the younger man's words for the moment. "Someone get Brev's bag!" he shouts up towards those who are now outside the cave. "NOW!" he adds more authoritively.
Then turning back to his friend he tries to put a reassuring hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Sit," he says softly. "Just sit down and rest, your bag will be here shortly." He wipes a hand nervously across his brow. "Tavish?" he asks then. "Did you see him while you were scouting?"
Brev not so much sits as collapses to a sitting position under Carac's gentle push, the spear clattering onto the stony ground. "No," he murmurs, then closes his eyes, trying to summon memory and banish the insistent awareness of pain and nausea. "I saw ... Laoghaire and his men, visiting ... Maulduin. Heard ... someone with Hawk, working for Brodie. Don't .. tell him anything ... Laoghaire said. Then he said .. Tavish."
Having reached the end of his message, he opens his eyes and says quite clearly, "No more bloody caves." The words are accompanied by a glare.
[Carac(#32384)] Carac frowns at these words, but does not question Breveg further. One of the Hawk arrive with the called for bag and kneels down to try and tend to the injured Brev. Carac watches momentarily and then looks off towards the direction of Mathain. "Rest now, Brev," he says turning back. "We'll talk more afterwards."
He then looks towards the dead cat and gives a small shake of his head. "Too bad it had to die," he says. "Thing has probably been feasting off Maulduin's livestock and been a pain in the Fian's arse for years." Then he begins the climb back up towards the gave, giving orders for others to help with carrying Brev up to safety.
Players: Carac, Brev, Gregoir
Located in: Dunlending
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