Awakening

by P D Dennison

  Turynn gave the huge Northerner a curious look for his unusual introduction, but smiled none the less at the polite response. Ravak cleaned the man’s face and neck with water. He used sinew and a fish bone needle to stitch the flaps of flea back onto Turynn’s face.

  “You’re all stitched up. It’ll scar badly if we don’t find you a healer. The scarring will pucker and hurt as it dries.”

  “Thank you. I’ll manage. We have salve back at home, if we make it home.”

  The two went over to Manya’s body. She was still sleeping, but she breathed much more regular now and less laboured. Ravak took a long swig of the whisky and handed the skin to Turynn.

  “Drink, Southerner.”

  Turynn took a big swig as Ravak had and reeled back choking as the whisky hit his throat like liquid fire. It was a grain alcohol made of the mashed seed of one of the grasses native to the Great Northern Plains around Ravak’s village. It was a wickedly potent brew and a developed palette for the drink was required. Turynn choked and coughed while Ravak laughed.

  “Too strong for you, Southerner?” He chuckled heartily. Then he squatted down next to Manya and ran a little of the whisky out onto one of the strips of hide he had prepared earlier. He began to clean her cuts and scrapes, carefully and methodically they way he’d been taught. He dabbed at the wounds letting the potent alcohol drip into the wound to mix with the blood, letting the infection run away. Normally he didn’t like drinking whiskey, but it served its intended purpose of a cleansing agent for first aid. He poured carefully a generous portion of the whisky directly onto the wound at her lung and gently dabbed at it with a hide cloth to clean out any onset of infection from the beast’s claws.

  “We’ll have to get her out of these blood soaked clothes and clean her thoroughly, then get her over to those clean hides. She has many cuts and scratches on her back and head from you dragging her through the pass. I know you had no choice, but in the condition she’s in now, she’ll have a tough time fighting off even the simplest of infections if we don’t keep her as clean as possible.”

  Turynn nodded in agreement and the two rolled her on her side as gently as possible. Manya moaned at the movement but she was too weak to speak or even resist. Both men poured on the whisky and dabbed at the wounds, picking out bits of rock and debris as they went. They stripped her completely and cleaned her as thoroughly as they could. Ravak showed Turynn how to wrap the hides into bandages around her midsection to cover the wounds on her back and sides. They wrapped several wounds on her arms and even wrapped her head to prevent the still bleeding wounds from attracting anymore dirt. The bandages would eventually help with clotting and stop the flow. They lifted her from the legs and under the arms, gently and slowly they made their way over to the beds Turynn had made and lay her down on fresh clean fur to recover.

  “This wrapping will have to do for now. The salt from the hides won’t be comfortable on those wounds, but it’ll prevent further infection.”

  Again Turynn simply nodded, grateful beyond words for what the Winter Wolf had done for them.

  “Ravak, I have to ask you. Please don’t mention to my sister you’ve seen her naked when she is roused. She’s still somewhat young and naive and her virtue is still intact. I would a hate for her to feel a sense of violation by a stranger she’s never met before, agreed?”

  “Agreed,” the big Barbarian said as he nodded in understanding. “Now you must get to sleep my friend. You will have to find us some water in the morning while I head back to my village for some much needed medical supplies.” Ravak turned to pickup his pack and bow and began to prepare himself for the journey.

  “You’re going now?” Turynn asked, amazed at what the Barbarian had already done for him and his sister and that the large savage was still prepared to do more.

  “Yes, it’s a four day journey at a walking pace. If I run, I will make it there and back in two. I’ll get more whisky and ale, and I’ll steal into the old conjurer’s hut and take some of the regenerative potion I should have grabbed when I left the first time, along with some women’s clothes for your sister. I don’t think I could do so well with a Southern woman’s clothes. I’m no tailor as you can see by my own. May you and your sister be well until I return. There’s plenty of food in those packs over there. This pass is all but deserted this time of year, you should be safe.”

  He patted the young ram on the hindquarters. “I’ll be back in two days. Have a fire going, have some water in those skins from the stream, and have some nice warm venison for me to eat. I’ll be exhausted as I don’t plan to stop before I return. If your sister wakes, give her about two or three good swigs out of that whisky skin and it should numb her and knock her back out again.” Ravak turned once again to leave.

  “Thank you again, Ravak.” Turynn rose with his hand extended and head slightly bowed. Ravak turned to face the man, but didn’t understand the curious gesture of the outstretched hand. He assumed he was to do the same and held his hand out.

  “You’re welcome, my new friend.”

  Turynn walked over to shake Ravak’s hand, but the Barbarian turned and ran off into the night, not understanding what the gesture even meant or that he’d performed it incorrectly.1

  1 A Word on the School of Dragon Husbandry

  The natural body warmth of their dragon mother and the symbiotic link between dragon-matron and dragonling would be the proper way to hatch dragon eggs in the quickest and most healthful manner. It has even been tested and proven in the Annals of Dragon Husbandry, which in its first and most rudimentary edition to date, was written by the Land of Shaarn’s most reputable and long lived scribe; Arch Mage Zeraan Taaselfee in the season 762A.1. There were other volumes from other seasons, but it was the most thorough, being revered as the most respected and accurate edition of the Annal, even if it did lack some of the knowledge discovered in later seasons.

  The section of particular interest to anyone wanting to hatch an egg sans dragon-matron was entitled ‘So Your Dragon-Matron has left Her Nest.’ It included extensive information on temperatures required, when and how to rotate the eggs for optimal and proportionate dragonling growth prior to a hatching, how to create a simulated makeshift nest out of saplings, mud and leaves. There was information on the magicks required to supply the embryo with the much needed nutrients for growth within the shell for optimal health and basically everything one would need to know if they were magickally inclined and in possession of a dragon egg in order to see it through to hatching and beyond.

  It is with this knowledge in the most recent and up to date form of the Annals of Dragon Husbandry that we shall defeat Graxxen and no other way. I must speak with Master Danthalas about this, as I’m sure he’s already come to the same conclusion and begun the careful planning we require to secure the eggs before Graxxen has time to hatch a dragonling...

  -Rostioff Fastelaine

  (Scribed in his journal two months prior to their discussion at the high tower before Rostioff was commissioned to head north into the High Pass in search of Turynn and Manya Silverleaf.)

  Chapter 6

  Homecoming

  Ravak, wide-awake from the fight and meeting the strange Southerners ran through the twists and turns of the High pass. His mind raced as he strode through the night with the speed and endurance only the Barbarians of the North possessed. Although he should have been tired, his short nap and the thought of saving two lives somehow sustained him as he ran back down toward Deep Fiend Lake.

  He wondered how the two had come to be up in the pass at all. Judging by their clothes and unprepared state, they weren’t travelling merchants and had no knowledge of the harsh land in which they had found themselves. The Southerner seemed sincere, but how could Ravak be sure?

  As he ran, he thought about poor Manya. He didn’t even know what she truly looked like; she’d been so badly mauled. It forced him to quicken his pace. He’d do everything in his power to ensure she lived.

  The long run
gave him time to think about what life might be like in the South for him. He’d planned to return home after he’d seen the South and tell his people of all he’d learned in hopes he might find the southern people not much different from his own. Perhaps even stave off the clan from inciting the entire horde into going to war against a people who were quite likely harmless. After meeting Turynn and his sister Manya, he was beginning to think his suspicions were correct. Turynn was definitely no warrior, or if he was, his prowess had not yet been revealed. He decided not to make any quick judgements and wait until he had a chance to talk to them in more detail when he got back up to the campsite.

  Turynn and Manya could be useful allies for him to have in a southern city. He would ask a boon of Turynn for helping him and his sister the way he had. Among the Winter Wolf Clan to do what Ravak had done for another constituted a boon be exacted from the person or people whose lives were saved. He had always thought it a little off, but in this case, it would serve him well. Often this was extorted through goods such as hides or a share of land or kills. Ravak would ask that Turynn and Manya be his guides through the South until he learned enough of the culture and the southern lifestyle to make his own way.

  He wanted to befriend them. He didn’t know anyone there and already the companionship of Sleipner was beginning to lack the stimulation of intelligent conversation. He needed people. He liked them and missed interaction with others. Besides, he felt even based on the little he knew of Turynn, that by the way he had thanked Ravak and introduced himself that he seemed to be a man of good character.

  Roundabout daybreak he passed through his hunting camp. He noticed there were several sets of small tracks in the dirt and stopped briefly to examine them. They were small and booted. Some appeared to be bootless and the footprint was small with little claws.

  “Must be goblins,” he thought to himself.

  It seemed the goblins were eager to find whatever or whomever they were searching for, but they had instead found his camp and it appeared they were headed away from the High Pass back toward the Great Northern Plains of the Winter Wolf and Ravak’s village.

  He picked up the pace and widened his path to arc around them through the trees. He doubled back twice to check on the goblin tracks and the second time, he heard faint noise in the distance. He decided to get a closer look and quietly went into a crouch, trotting silently closer to the source to see if he could establish numbers.

  The moon was beginning to settle in the west now and soon the break of dawn’s first light would be on the eastern horizon. He still had enough time to get back to the village and warn the sentries of the possible attack, which would give them time to rouse a party of warriors and head out to prevent the goblins from ever reaching the little village.

  Ravak tried to count the numbers, but it was too dark and the figures passing back and forth through the trees as they searched, making it far too difficult to get an accurate count. He did have good fresh tracks to work with and deduced from those that there appeared to be approximately twenty of the little monsters. They were odd little creatures. Quite bulbous in the middle with green flesh that shone blue under the pale moonlight and pointed ears. All of them brandished a spear, a sword, or some other one handed poorly crafted weapon with a shield in their offhand and most wore leather armour. Their language was guttural and their voices raspy and hissing. They seemed very primitive making Ravak very curious about them. Unfortunately, he did not have time to study them. He had to break hard around them and make his way back to his village before they did. Ravak strode on through the familiar woods and highlands until finally the tree line became sparse and eventually opened up onto the hilly plains of his home.

  The next day was spent in the same fashion. Never stopping, never resting, only running and breathing. All conscious thought had left Ravak’s mind now as he sprinted on. It was a gift of the Barbarians of the North that they could run for great distances without rest, water or food, their minds and bodies working in unison to maintain their being. It was almost magickal and some would call it that, while others would simply attribute the strange ability to them being the quintessential example of a man uncorrupted by the life of civilization in the South.

  He saw smoke rising from the villages on the horizon and pushed on as he strode across the plains. Running was the preferred method of travel for the horde. In fact they were such efficient runners that the Winter Wolf Clan kept very few horses for riding. They had a mounted cavalry division for war, but those men road atop massive horses called Bergdale, trained to fight in battle only. Their backs far too wide, they were not well suited for regular travel on long trails.

  As he came within site of the village firelight, he noticed the first sentry out walking in the plains. The sun was all but completely down beyond the southwestern Mystpeaks now after a full day of running and only the faintest glow remained on the horizon.

  He called out with a wolf howl and the sentry immediately turned toward him and readied his spear. He followed it up with a shout. “It’s me, Ravak!”As he approached he could see it was a warrior by the name Baaradon whom he knew well. “Baaradon! It’s me, Ravak! I have to warn you! There’s a goblin search party not far behind me. I spotted them in the woods and they’re headed down onto the plains toward us. We must notify the Council and raise a party of warriors to meet them at once!” Ravak ran up and grabbed the man’s shoulders as he spoke to look him in the eye and drive home the seriousness of the impending attack.

  “Ravak? But you’ve been gone for a moon now. What are you doing here? Goblins? You’ve gone mad from living out in the wild!” Baaradon broke free of Ravak’s grip and backed away from him lowering his spear toward Ravak’s belly. “Stay back! You’re crazy! You’ve gone completely mad. There’re no goblins round’ here! You were banished by Ekes! Leave! Now!”

  Ravak moved a step closer to speak again, but Baaradon hopped back and brandished his spear threateningly. He could see that this would go nowhere in a hurry so he deftly ran around the man down toward the village with Baaradon giving chase. If he could wake his father and tell him of what he’d seen, he’d surely believe him. He ran full out now covering several yards with each bound, Baaradon was lost behind him.

  He burst through the door of his parent’s hut and looked around wild-eyed. His father was still up sipping a cup of ale. The fire burned brightly. His mother jumped with a start splashing the next day’s stew onto the wall seeing her son come through the door in flurry for the first time in over a moon.

  “Ravak! You scared the life out of us! What are you doing home?”

  “Yes, it better be good boy. When I told you to leave I meant for you to stay gone. Speak your mind, and know that I’m aware of what you took from me when you left,” said Ekes as he pointed the rim of his cup at Ravak with one eye closed.

  Ekes looked at his son for a long moment after the lad finished with his tale, trying to decide if he should believe the fantastic yarn or not. He rose to speak, scratching his beard as he planned out his words.

  “Ravak, I’m not sure I can swallow the whole story, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Let’s get the horn blowers out and get a hunting party together quickly. They’ll be on us soon enough if you’re right.”

  The two men ran out of the hut and went over to one of the small shacks where the horn blower sentries were stationed. The horn blowers were always on duty to warn of an impending attack. Ekes being one of the village elders had the authority to sound the alarm and did so. The first horn sounded and only a few seconds later came the next. Within a minute, all of the horns around the village were howling. Men, warriors on the clan watch, began to appear from the doorways of the huts in the village hastily gearing up for the impending attack. Once clothed and readied, they all gathered at the center of town for instruction. Ravak and Ekes stood waiting for them all. When they arrived, Ekes spoke.

  “My son has been living in the hills for the last moon. He says he’s seen this pas
t night a party of goblin soldiers headed down out of the hills just south of here. He believes they may be following the trail of two Southerners Ravak has rescued up in the High Pass and after finding his camp, followed the trail north out onto the plains toward our village. He’s come back to warn us of the danger.” Ekes turned and looked at his son as he spoke that last bit.

  Ravak could see the look in his eye. It was something he seldom saw from the old codger. Ekes had pride in his eye. His father was proud that in spite of his banishment and the fight they’d had, Ravak proved to be a big enough man to return to save his people from another late night attack.

  “Southerners?” came the first cry. “Maybe we should just let these goblins take them if they’re Southerners. What were they doing in the north anyway?”

  Then another spoke. “Where are the Southerners now? How do we know they aren’t in league with the goblins? How do we know Ravak isn’t in league with them? We haven’t seen him in a moon and when he left, you’d banished him from your hut. Mayhap this is a boy’s revenge on his harsh old father?”

  Ekes raised his hands to calm and silence the rabble. “I know it all seems a little much to swallow right now, friends. But I assure you there are goblins out there headed this way. Not a moon ago they killed my brother and his family while they slept here in our own village. There may be only twenty of them and if we hurry to prepare for them, there need be no Winter Wolf bloodshed this eve. We can take one prisoner and find out where they are encamped, perhaps find out what their agenda is in our land.”