Beaten (open rp)

[Sundo Raca]

The elf felt cold. Very cold. He wasnt sure whether this meant he was dying, or if it was just the late winter air. He supposed he should be dying. Everything was so numb now he didnt know.

There was a hole in his chest where Rothman's sword had pierced his armor, breaking through his defences, smashing a path through bone, sinew and flesh. He had no idea whether the man had struck any organs. The hole was covered in dried blood and snow, bits off cloth mixed in with the battered flesh. His left leg was a crimson mass, a result of a long, deep gash running from the back of his ankle to the inside of his knee. The blood there had also dried, forming a sticky, black shield. Bits of broken armor and clothing lay scattered everywhere, quickly disappearing beneath the falling snow, forming a trail which led from the river to the spot where the halfnaked, half-blood-soaked, snow-covered elf had dragged himself to.

But the most appaling part of the elf was his face. A raw, red welt stretched from his forehead to his chin, while the rest of his face looked like one massive swollen wreck. One eye was shut tight, a massive lump hanging over it, and the elf's mouth and teeth were stained in blood. To any passerby.. and there were none, he looked like a corpse. Yet it seemed to the elf as if this body simply didnt want to die. It was almost as if it had a mind of its own.

But this was all nonsense of course. Of course he was going to die. After all, if the bloodloss, septic wounds or the hole in his chest didnt kill him, it was only a matter of time before the thirst took him. Or maybe the hunger. Or simply the elements? The elf made a noise, an odd, gurgling sound. It was his attempt at a chuckle. It seemed to him a wonderful game. All these different things.. competing to be the first to kill him. He felt like he was the centre of attention in his own little world. My wounds are my friends. Hunger is my friend. Thirst is my friend. Snow is my friend.

He opened his mouth, stretching forth his tongue and tasting the snow, letting it melt into his mouth, refreshing him. Thirst began to desert him, fickle creature that it was. There was a squawk behind him. The elf didnt have the energy to turn his head. He heard the sounds of wings fluttering, and then felt.. somehow through the numbing cold, a tiny pair of feet on his great back. Then something small, and sharp dug into his spine. He could barely feel it, yet he knew it was there. Another caw came from the creature, and he imagined it hopping along his back, pecking here and there at what it saw as a corpse. His mouth formed a slow grin, and with a strength he'd never fathomed he had, rolled over, snapping his head back, moving in an instant. A muffled caw was cut out by the sound of bones being crushed.

The crow lay beneath his back, squashed into the snow, its life taken in an instant. The elf rolled over once more, refreshed by the molten snow, and took the mangled bird in one large, pale hand. Food. They are all deserting me now. One by one. With this thought singing through his head, he began to eat.. slowly yet purposefully. Each swallow felt like he had a knife stuck in his throat.. but he continued untill every scrap of the crow had disappeared. Letting his head loll forwards once more, the great elf's dark green eyes closed, his sandpapered tongue hanging out like a dogs, not wanting to leave the snow be. For the first time since Rothman's blade took him, the elf slept.

[Fayne Bridgewater]

Fayne walks with her head down against the wind, the snowflakes catching in her dark hair, her mind spinning from the conversation...no, the interrogation...she just left. Rubbing her hands down her face and giving a heavy sigh, she glances up for a moment, barely catching the huge strange shape in the snow. Curious, as always, she steps softly through the snow, steadily closing the distance.

Her eyes widen as she notices the red splatters around the snow covered....corpse? Stifling a scream with her hand, she rushes over and kneels in the snow by the body. Reaching out a trembling, gloved hand she gently pushes the body over onto its back, brushing the snow away from the face carefully. Although the face is almost unrecognizable, she takes a ragged breath as realization hits her...Sundo...

Leaning her ear close to his mouth, she sags in relief at hearing the shallow breathing. She gets to her feet quickly, grabbing her hatchet from her bag and looking around wildly...Branches... Finally getting a glimpse of a tree with branches long enough, she quickly hacks through two of them, about equal in length and drags them back over to the fallen form. Fumbling in her bag, almost dropping it twice in her haste, she pulls some leather and thread from its depths, attaching it to the branches to form a makeshift stretcher. After brushing her hair back impatiently from her eyes, she hefts the stretcher up and lays it beside the elf. With a grunt, she rolls him onto his side carefully and shoves the stretcher under him with her foot, then lowers him gently onto it.

Panting with exertion now, she takes a moment to wrap a fur blanket around the motionless elf, grimacing as she notices it wouldn't reach to cover his feet. She glances left and right for any signs of movement and, seeing none, grabs one end of the stretcher in her small hands. Digging in her feet she tugs hard and finally feels it start to move slowly. Not glancing back, she heads towards a...hopefully...safe place.

What should have been a short journey stretched over the hours, exhaustion forcing her to stop and rest more and more often. Almost sobbing with relief, she finally pulls him into the cave, lowering the stretcher with his inert body to the ground, close to the fire. Flexing her stiffened fingers, she steps quickly over to the depot, reaching in and grabbing her needle and some thread. I hope this will be enough... Grabbing a bucket of water and some clean cloth, she lays the needle on the coals as she dunks the cloth in the water and sets it down by him. Removing the fur blanket, she shakes her head slowly at the extent of his wounds. Sighing heavily, she begins cleansing the many wounds on his body, cleaning him as best she can. The minutes tick by, her hands steadily wiping away the massive amount of blood until finally, he is as clean as she can get him. She reaches out to grab the needle, threads it quickly and begins stitching. Thankful he's unconscious, her hands leave small neat stitches in their wake and she prays the little she can do will be enough.

The fire crackles behind her, hours later when she's finished the work, she gets to her feet and pulls the blanket back over him, tucking it around his massive shoulders gently. With another heavy sigh, she trembles slightly, afraid of what may come if and when he awakens. She shoves another log in the fire, wipes a hand across her forehead and sits down on a log, watching and waiting...

[Joxia Doral]

She had left him there...after starting to clean his wound when he passed out she'd stooped and looked at him mangled, swollen, and bleeding. Muttering to herself she'd stepped away and turned her back on him "What do I owe him? I owe him nothing... let him rot..." and she walked away forcably.

Later, it was nagging at her...festering in the back of her mind. The guilt, maybe not guilt so much as the deeply imbedded helpful nature of hers, the part of her that felt if given enough chances others would succeed with their lives. with a soft growl to herself and a long sigh she gathered what she knew would be needed to try and piece him back together. As she trudged through the deepening snow others might have thought she had lost her mind for she argued with herself about going to help him until she arrived where she'd left him.
(( ARGH!! Fayne beat me to it... had to delete...now gotta redo))

[Joxia Doral]

Scanning the area sees a blood trail littered with bits of broken armor but no footprints of man or beast were evident. The grin returns to her face "Just wont give up will he?" and starts following the trail. It ended with a few black feathers scattered about and a set of footprints that trampled a small part of the area well "HAH!" she thought, "someone did find him....I can leave it alone." But as she started back the way she had come she paused looking at the direction that was taken by his savior, a trail blazed in the snow of something heavy having been dragged. Judging by the direction she already had a good idea of where she was going and following the path there, she was right.
Entering cautiously sword drawn, because she had no idea who it was that saved him, she wound her way around the water and through the passage silently and at the entrance of the cavern paused in the shadows peering inside. Scoffing quietly she sheathed her swords and sat in the shadow to watch. apparently Fayne had just gotten him here just minutes ago.
She watched from her spot in the darkly shadowed entrance as Fayne cleaned and stitched his wounds, the amount of gentleness and care that she put into it did not escape her observant eyes. When Fayne was done and had taken a seat by the fire Joxia slowly moved and stood from her motionless position stretching her limbs relieving the cramped muscles.
With a few short steps entered the cave and walked over seating herself on a log, the fire between herself and Fayne. A slight smirk on her lips and a hint of amusement causing her eyes to glitter in the firelight, she spoke to the startled woman "Well done...It should ease your mind too, because you probly saved his life" Then she stood again "ill be back in a bit to see if hes awake yet...we need to finish a conversation" and as quickly as shed entered she left again.