Subject: Re: The Farm

The stink of the farm lingers with Pensive-- pain and fear and despair. It rides with him, and he tolerates it. Samples it, even. And then pulls away. The Path may not be straight, but it does not lead there.

A single body, maimed and left for them. Why? Was it left for them, even? Or was there some magic worked on that farm, like the magic that had been worked on the battlefield? Two days, that woman had lain there. . . two days ago, he had been in Nesalin, oblivious to all of this, oblivious to the Kaishin and Mission, and. . . two days ago, he felt, he had been innocent.

Pensive rolls his shoulders-- he can feel the people of Overlook in front of him, awash in confusion and fear. . . and desperate hope. Innocent, too. Blood and Stone, let him meet their hope. Let him carry it out, and protect it.

And then he sucks in a breath as he realizes how very tenous their hope is. Kor Garesh was rounding up small farmsteads-- and here they were, one thousand souls out in the middle of the plains, protected by less than a hundred armed men. . . Kor Garesh had to see them. Had to desire them.

And in that moment, the exodus appears in front of him, a long straggling line of unarmed men and women and children.

He rides over to Rennick, "If Kor Garesh is gathering up farmsteads-- what do you think this will look like to him?" He points at the line, and then spurs his horse forward to join it.

Garyth had set a hard pace. Pensive swallows and holds his tongue. Brutal necessities. He finds the young captain, and stands quietly aside until there is a moment to speak to him.

"We found no one there alive, Garyth." It is hard to keep his voice steady. "The Hunter thinks that there was a band of halflings guarding more than a dozen humans in the barn. There was a body of a woman in the farmhouse cellar-- mutilated like the priest in Nesalin."

(OOC: If Garyth has any questions or if anyone wants to RP at all, I'll backplay)

*****

One thousand people making camp is no small ordeal. Pensive watches as the command to stop is passed down the length of the exodus, watches the few soldiers that ride with Garyth realize that now was not the time to dismount. No-- now that the march was over, it was time to guard. Now came the long, long night.

How far had they come along? As he makes his way around the camp, he sees the people of Overlook cast glances back toward their home. Their hopes and fears are on his tongue, and taste like ashes.

The line of men, women and children gathers to itself. The soldiers and aldermen keep order as best they can among the frightened and the weary. Pensive tries to help them, but finds that his slight stature lends nothing to his authority. In the dusk, he looks and sounds like a boy. A boy in the way, a boy riding a horse-- that is an insult to the townsmen and women who have walked for miles, carrying all they could. Pensive finally leaves the work of organizing the camp to the human men who know these people.

He starts off at first to find Garyth-- but thinks better of it. He'd be of no use there. The thing to do now would be to find the Blood Falcons. Some were still wounded from the battle with the brute and his men. And there, Pensive could help. It would be best to go to them through the cleric, though-- through someone they trusted, not this strange, weeping elf boy.

"I have some skill with healing," he says, when he finds the priest. "But I do not know your men-- will you show me which needs aid the most? I will do what I can for them."

Subject: Re: The Farm

It's been a long day already. Garyth can see the fatigue growing on the faces of the townspeople, unused as they are to long marches. And it will be several hours yet before they can afford to stop and make camp. They're bearing it well, and without complaint, but even so it pains him to have to push them so hard. As if there were any choice.

A guardsman approaches at a quick pace, breaking Garyth's reverie. "Riders approaching, sir," he says. Garyth turns, eyes scanning in the direction the guardsman points. There. Five riders, making straight for them. He frowns. If that were Rennik and Pensive, it would mean that things had not gone well at the farm. And if it werent...

"Tell Sergeant Osred to move the group ahead," he tells the guardsman, who runs ahead to look for the sergeant. Garyth quickly forms up a squad of ten and sets about preparing to meet the incoming riders.

A couple of tense minutes go by as they wait. A few of the younger guards finger their bowstrings nervously. But it turns out the precaution is unnecessary; as the riders get nearer, Garyth sees the familiar faces of Rennik, Pensive, and his men.

Pensive approaches, pulling up alongside Garyth as they return to the column. "We found no one there alive, Garyth," the elf says. Garyth nods gravely. It was as he expected when he first saw them approaching. Pensive continues, "The Hunter thinks that there was a band of halflings guarding more than a dozen humans in the barn. There was a body of a woman in the farmhouse cellar-- mutilated like the priest in Nesalin." The woman, that must have been Jessamyn, Dannil's wife. The news leaves an ashen taste in Garyth's mouth.

"Just one body?" he asks. He turns to Rennik. "Any sign of the others?"