Outcasts (helvet)

[Raevyn]

The village was rather small, without even a wall to defend it. On the fringes were set the farms and garden dwellings, which ringed the shops and businesses. Within those was the village square, where the council hall and the market stood. One packed dirt road cut through the center of the town, from which branched many smaller foot- and cart-paths. There were two entrances for the road, one of which faced the feared forest. Feared because anyone who had ever gone in had never been heard from again.

News traveled quickly in a place so small, and, like ripples in a pond, word of the injured barbarian stumbling into their village quickly spread through gossiping women and bristling men. Villagers gave the outlander a wide berth, and the few children brave enough to approach for a closer look were pulled away by fearful mothers. No one bothered the man, but they also did not bother to try and conceal their gossiping. However, a wooden sign depicting the universal symbols for a healer hung above one small building, and the door was propped open in what might be considered welcoming.

[helvet]

The air hung low, as the man walked through the forest in an unknown direction. Twas only days before, that his village was burnt and destroyed and him the only man to survive the battle itself. He now wanders, scarred physically and mentally. His sword sheathed, shield and bow on his back, carrying his axe in his hand. He only recently lost trail of the slave traders when a storm passed.

The air is humid and moist, making the clothes stick to his skin. Yet, the air was also not to warm, like death lingers all around him and the ground created the reaction of fog, all around this forest. Around him, squirrels chattered, birds chirped and the occasional demonic squeal or growl attempting to catch it's prey.

He entered a small village, seemingly defenseless like his own, only untouched or unscathed by the slave traders. He entered this village, almost instantly feeling unwelcome by the residents. He looked around at the people, spreading gossip and words of hate towards him. He noticed a sign depicting something hung by a door. As he got to the door, he collapsed, weak and injured. With the remaining conscious energy he has, he crawled, and sat, leaning against the wall. of the building. He took his shield and bow off his back and set them aside, only to slowly fall into darkness as if death was about to seize the last lord of his tribe.

[Raevyn]

"I'll not treat him! Not here or anywhere else, I won't," the healer exclaimed upon seeing the barbarian outside his shop. The outlander might have died where he collapsed, had someone not held a little compassion for any life. An older woman exiting the healer's shop sent her grandchild running to the edge of the village, something that didn't take more than a couple of minutes. The boy skidded in the dusty path before one of the smaller homes, in front of which sat a young woman who was guarded by a large canine. She stood at the urgency of the boy's voice as he told her of the barbarian.

"He'll die, Raevyn," he said soberly, though it was plain that the child was confused as to whether or not that was good or bad. Raevyn set aside her mortar and pestle and snapped her fingers. the wolf-dog was on its feet at the call, and she gestured for the boy to take her to the injured man. She was looking down on the outsider within minutes of the boy having left his grandmother's side, and she knew then that his injuries were indeed cause for concern.

"Fetch me two of the men to carry him for me, will you Ms. Rubi?" Raevyn asked the old woman. Ms. Rubi smiled and complied, being one of the few who often went to the young woman for salves and herbs.
"You two! Help this girl get the barbarian out of my sight! Indecent it is, having one like him laying about on our streets," her commanding voice got Raevyn the help she needed, and soon they were laying the outlander down on Raevyn's own cot, the only one she owned. She then shooed the men away, though they went gladly enough. Once they had gone Raevyn set about to care for the so far nameless outsider's wounds, hoping he wasn't so far gone that she couldn't pull him away from the edge of oblivion.

[helvet]

- “CHARGE!” He yelled without thinking.
A hunting party of fifty charged from the forest towards what was once their home, hoping to break the line of the enemy before the enemy had enough time to form their own lines. With a huge lust for blood the enemy disobeyed their captains command and charged towards Balaudiui and his men.
Balaudiui held his axe in his hand as he charged towards the enemy full of hate and anger. Raising it, he brought it down up on the edge of his foes shield, forcing it down. He then took his axe and chopped the man's head. He looked towards the pile of bodies, to see his wife, laying dead..." - The image in his mind soon turned from the battle to trying to chase the slave caravan while it was still visible. Seeing his son for the last time. His consciousness slowly returned, him waking up, fast, "Give him back!" He yelled as he did, still almost in his dream.

He looked around, to see him in a bed type thing, in a small room. He looked down to see himself bandaged up from the wounds inflicted days before. He raised his hands in front of his face, looking at his palms, trying to see whether or not he's still alive or if he's in the afterlife with the gods who wait to share a drink with the mighty warrior. He looked to his side, to see his weapons and equipment at the corner of the room.

He turned his body to the face a side of the bed, his feet touching stone. He stood up, but retracted in pain, forcing him to sit down. "Hello? Is anyone there?" He asked, looking around the room, then towards the door.

[Raevyn]

Raevyn, seated just outside the entry to her small home, jumped when the shout came from within. The stranger had been asleep since he had arrived a few days ago, but it seemed that he had awakened. She waited for his call before heading inside, hoping if he was upset that he would calm. At her heel was the large, smoky gray wolf-dog, his ears pricked in wary curiosity. Seeing her charge sitting up, Raevyn smiled a bit.

"Don't try to move too much," she told him in an authoritative but kind voice. "You haven't completely healed yet. I'm Raevyn," she introduced herself, then went to tend the small fire burning in the hearth where a pot of thin stew was boiling and almost ready.

[helvet]

He looked around, soon to see a young woman enter the room, introducing herself as Raevyn. 'So she's the one that helped him', He thought to himself. The first words he managed to utter was 'Where's my-'. Then it came back. The memory of his son being taken away. He sighed.

"Why did you save my life when your entire village despise and rejected the very sight of me?" He asked. "And my name and title is Lord Balaudiui. Leader of the Helvet people." He layed back down, slowly trying his best not open his wounds.

"Two more questions. Where am I? and Where is my son?"

[Raevyn]

She didn't look up from her ministrations over the pot when he spoke. As she replied she sprinkled a few herbs into the mixture and stirred it slowly.

"Well, Lord Balaudiui, most of those people that despised you on sight don't like me much, either. And anyway, I couldn't let you die when it was in my power to save you," she told him. "Our village doesn't have much of a name, but I can tell you it is very close to the misty forest, and a river which flows southeast."

Raevyn paused then, and stopped in her movements with the stew. "I don't know where your son would be," she answered his last question somberly, and then asked her own. "I expect you're ? Either way you'll need to eat soon."

[helvet]

He sat there and thought, figuring that the slave caravan never roamed through this town and he is now lost and farther from his son than ever. His faith in the wonder that his son might still be alive slowly fell to the belief his son may be dead. He looked at the bronze pattern on his shield, a pattern, extending outwards from the middle, looking like branches from a tree, only perfectly symmetrical to four sides. He sighed, for that shield was brought on from generation to generation, and he fears it'll have to be destroyed for him being the last of his blood line. His sword, is also, brought on from father to son.

"Yes, please. I would like some think to eat about now." He sat up, slowly, looking at the young woman again. He pushed back, to lean himself up against the wall and relaxed there, yet the father in him still worries over his son and the husband in him, still in sorrow for the loss of his love.

[Raevyn]

She could see how his thoughts occupied him even after he had accepted her offer of food, so it was in silence that she poured a bit of the thin stew into a wooden bowl and placed a carved sthingy with it. Then she handed Balaudiui the food and went to sit on a stool closer to the hearth than to the cot. She hesitated before asking the question on her mind, but did finally ask after a few minutes of silence.

"Would you mind telling me how you were wounded?" she asked quietly. She knew when she cleaned and wrapped the injuries that he must have been involved in some sort of battle, which wasn't really all that surprising to her, considering the weapons he carried.

[helvet]

He looked at her, and wondering whether or not it'd be a wise idea to tell her. He figured it wouldn't do to much harm. From what he figured, she's a simple medicine woman or a healer as they'd say. He explained, "I was on a hunt before it all happened for a great feast we where to have in celebration of the summer solstice. A tradition for our tribe. When the hunting parties came back, we found that people have invaded our village and they took our children away in carriages, killing everyone else. The hunting party, on an attempt to save our children of bring vengeance- not a good idea and not very well planned- we attacked them. The battle went on for hours, ending in the dawn of time and I was the only one alive in the end. The last person, the Captain as they called it, managed to get a few hits on me when we fought, before I killed him, decapitating him." He looked up at her as he took a bite from the stew. "Hadn't had anything but bread for a long while... This is pretty good."

[Raevyn]

She didn't say a word as he told his story. It was similar to a few other tales she had heard from travelers, of slavers attacking small communities. She was glad it hadn't happened in her village, but every time she heard a story like that she worried they might be next.

"I'm sorry," she said softly when he had finished, though it wouldn't do much to help the situation. She smiled slightly at his compliment for her food. It wasn't what she remembered having when her father had been alive, but it was better than she knew some had.

[helvet]

"I believe my village to be the last one they attacked. After all, we killed a good few hundred mercenaries from them. With their lack of men now, I don't think they'll attack anyone else for a long while. Never the less this town is in danger," He explained, "And I'd rather not see another suffer the way I have."

"Is there any fighters in your village? Hunters, swordsmen or is this village full of peasants with pitch forks?" He finished the stew, placing the bowl on the ground, before trying to get up, slowly. Pain struck his leg, but not immense but not enough. Slowly the pain subsided.

[Raevyn]

Raevyn nodded at his first statements. It was good that perhaps they would not be attacked, but still there were few trained fighters living in the village.

"A lot of the men hunt to provide for their families, and I've heard the blacksmith is good with an axe, but there are only a few who are really trained with weapons here," she took the bowl and set it to one side, then she stood and watched him get up. It would be good for him to exercise a bit, but she was not going to let him overdo it.

[helvet]

The woman caught his full attention when she mentioned the Black Smith being good with an axe, he remembered his old friend named Dorios. A large man charging into battle with a large axe, and a shield. He was tall and frightening yet gentle on the inside. His voice was boisterous and loud, yet would almost never say anything bad about someone. He and Balaudiui would often spar together with sticks. Dorios almost always chose one that looked the shape of an axe and always would neither win a match. In the battle, Dorios was seen swinging his battle axe- a single sided double handed axe, given to him the same way Balaudiui got his sword and shield.

"What's his name?" Balaudiui asked, "The black smith?" Balaudiui walked around the room to regain his strength and balance.

[Raevyn]

She saw how her words had caught the mans attention, and had to wonder why before she answered. Until recently the village hadn't had a blacksmith since the last one died childless and without an apprentice.

"I don't think very many people really know his name; I've only ever heard him called Smith or Blacksmith since he took up the job. His work is very good, though. Most here were fairly suspicious about him for a bit, but he didn't come in looking like you did," she gave a small smile. The blacksmith had come to the village mostly whole, at least with no actively bleeding injuries. It had taken a couple of days for him to be accepted, but his skills and persistence had helped win him a place as the new blacksmith.