Azaria Blue — Roleplayer Guild

Ellinor woke to the seagull-like cackle of women around her. She was in the caretakers’ tent, sometime in the evening. She recalled little of their drudge home, other than being convinced that they were all walking ghosts and were being led away from Valhalla by the giant. There must have been something in those mushrooms. She lifted her head and looked over to them in their corner, smelling strongly of perfumes.

’Is he really that small??’
’I didn’t feel a thing,’
Another blizzard of giggles.

Ellinor sat up from her cot and began collecting herself, putting on her apron to begin prepping for the next day.

’Well, he might as well be dead tomorrow so you did a good thing for him,' an overly peppy voice pointed out flatly. She turned to see the three sitting in a corner, fixing each other's hair.

‘Who is dead?’ Ellinor asked as she stood in the doorway, all three turning.

‘Oh, you’re awake!'
’Come on, she’s messed up her hair already,'
Ellinor felt around her head confusedly, then asked again, ‘Who is dead??’
’Just one of the warriors, calm down,’
’Yeah because that big battle tomorrow,'
’It’s what they came here for you know,’

Ellinor let out a sigh of relief. She was, in fact, wrong about them all being dead. It was puzzling how all of these girls could laugh when there was to be a war the next day. She asked them about what they knew and got as vague of answers as she could. Other than it being a ‘Big battle’ against a ‘Lot of people’ that were the ‘Bad guys’ she assumed they found a fleet of Cherwinian soldiers. She bid them goodbye despite their whining to fix her hair and headed toward the mess tent.

There were a few drunkards lazing about and snacking on breads. She shooed a nibbler out of her stashes of vegetables. If there was to be a battle, she was behind already on preparation. She lifted potatoes out of a barrel and put them in a sack until she got to the bottom and fetched a wooden crate. She put it out on her work station and cracked open the sides. Her collected herbs, with varying uses and degrees of strength had been untouched for the most part. She was now glad that she had taken a nap, as she would likely be up all night making various pastes, salves, powders and prayers.

She did not sleep, even after the last man or woman lay in their sack, she was pulverizing seeds into a pulp, pulling strips of sacks and whatever else she could find to make gauze. She found arm and leg-length sticks and made three pouches of smelling salts - enough for her and two helpers. Lastly, she pulled out the salted chunks of ham. The meat she had been holding out from them all, as she hoped it would give them an extra boost to have a salty, fatty meal before their first real battle. Alongside potatoes and a sauce made of the fat runoff, they’d be singing their way to death.

Morning came early. Shouting and rustling and running about. Some came in politely, getting extra potions and being gracious as always. Some came by and grabbed a handful of meat and a nod. Some didn’t even have time to eat as they pulled their boots on as they made their way to march. The poor saps would die without a morsel in their bellies, and possibly a hangover to boot.

They made their way through the dewy grass. Ellinor was soaked to the knee even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She had a pack on her back and all of her extra supplies with her helpers. She decided to leave most of the sticks behind, perhaps she over-prepared. It was not a long way away, surprisingly. Had they not attacked first it would be sure that the others would take their advantage. Although it was within days of arrival and no time to settle in, she was glad. The warriors would become restless soon otherwise anyway.

A shout to the air. Stomping through the dirt. Hooves galloping away. It took just seconds for them to go from marching to war. She watched, looking for treatable injuries. It was a bit difficult to tell which were her responsibility and which were the enemy, let alone a severed head from an injured leg. She spotted a calvary doubling back and taking out a small bundle, a man with a limp arm in front. Ellinor was on her feet with her salves to her chest before the shouts reached her ears.

The man blacked out. She recognised him from their journey just the day before. She slapped his cheeks a few times before ignoring it and getting to work. The leather was already severed by an axe, giving her room to expose the skin. Before she could put a piece of cloth between the soldier’s teeth there was a hot axe blade on the wound. She scrunched her nose at the terrible scent of burned flesh.

Her ears were getting accustomed to the sounds around her. The difference between a confident step toward war and a slumping sound of a limp body. She looked up to inspect if there were any more to help, delegating those around her to tend to the still living. She went back down to her patient and slapped his cheeks again, ‘Come on, I’m not carrying you. You can’t fight any more today,’ she shouted above the clanging all around her. As she spoke, she put a salve on the burn, probably feeling like fire ants climbing up and down his arm. It was still connected at the bottom, but they would have to worry about amputation later.

The sounds made their way further toward the enemy, the injured staying behind. This made her job much easier. She took the man’s good hand and made him hold his limp arm ‘Hold it still. Might be able to save it,’ she said before sprinting to her next patient.

‘Alright pretty boy,’ she said, having another blackouter at her hands, ‘Put this in your mouth,’ she put gauze in his hand to keep him occupied. He probably had a concussion from how hard he fell, but the obvious wound was under steel plate. She needed to plug the hole and there was no comfortable way of going about that.

They couldn’t burn the wound right now, so she took a wad of gauze and covered it in a green paste. ‘In. The. Mouth.’ She helped him get it between his teeth before shoving the gauze into the plate and packed it into place with her thumb. She put more on top of it into the hole until it stayed in place. She looked up and directed one of her stronger helpers to direct Jahan back. She just might get to do a little surgery today.

Ellinor opened her eyes, squinting through the approaching fog. She saw a large figure in front of her and pushed herself up on sore elbows, unable to scoot away for the thorns.

She tried to speak but coughed miserably.

She heard many sets of footsteps. She knew now that her group must have been dead and the rest of the barbarians had made their way around looking for stragglers. She wondered if the lady with all the arrows had made it out. Alaina? Something like that. It took until now for her to notice that this man was a completely different one. This one was wearing armour and had a more clean face.

'State...your purpose,' she wheezed out.

The man looked like he was thinking before she heard an arrow thud into the tree next to him. 'What is it with everybody here trying to kill the cooks?' she thought as she squinted through the fog.

"Get away from her you rakki," she heard a voice call out.

'Ivanna?' she rasped, not nearly loud enough for her to hear, 'Get out of...here you...fool!' 

This lady was crazy. They had all been slaughtered and she's aiming at an armoured dude. Arrow lady needs help but Ellinor was a bit busy at the moment and she wasn't exactly sure if she was talented enough to cure this lack of self-preservation.

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