Tempest: White Light

The Base of Drakesreach Bluff 


 * A predominantly flat region of elevated land atop a small cliff that roughly spans one thirteenth of the Drakesreach Sierra as a whole, Drakesreach Bluff is at once both an impressive sight and an equally notable landmark within the Wildlands as a whole. It is upon this bluff that the freehold of Crown's Refuge was first established in 625 ATA, and it is upon this very same bluff that that same city has flourished.


 * Though mostly surrounded by dry auburn grasslands to the north and east, and the rushing waters of the Jadesnake to the west, the southern reaches of the base of Drakesreach Bluff hold some notable features, first and foremost of which is the smooth ramp that ascends towards the top of the bluff itself, leading to the only point around the base of the entire landmark by which one can enter the city above.


 * That city is, of course, the freehold of Crown's Refuge. Viewable as nothing more than a palisade wall of stone that measures roughly ten foot in height atop the natural aegis of wall that is the cliff face, the suggestion of a multitude of buildings and homes are never the less there all the same. A magnificent and elegant tower of pale white stone and marble ascends above the height of the wall, however, presiding over the surrounding landscape as it spears towards the heavens.


 * A set of vast wooden gates rest atop the natural ramp that leads up to the surface of the bluff, evidently the only ingress to and from the city above, while the thick reaches of the Verdigris Forest stretch endlessly towards the south, the edge of the forest directly adjacent to the southern edge of the bluff itself.

Lucius Nepos chuckles at Soravyn, despite the grave situation that the group finds themselves in. "I suppose you're right, sir. Are these all the troops that you've got at your disposal? I've been itching to try a new siege tactic that I came up with, you know? Good for assaulting areas that are under heavy missile fire." He says to Soravyn.

Siege camps are not known for being particularly serene places, and this one in particular is not doing anything to change that opinion of them. Things are chaotic, of course, with archers and shield-bearers, Naga and human, running about, but small pockets of relative peace exist within such chaos. Syton Temple seems to exist in, and indeed comprise, one such pocket. He sits near the command tent, looking tired, quietly bleeding down the length of the arrow that still sticks out of his shoulder.

Walking out of the tent after Soravyn and Lucius is the cloaked, armored form of Norran Lomasa. He holds his claymore in his right hand, listening off-handedly to the two chatter as he looks idly around the camp. Taking notice of the man he dropped off earlier, he manages a quick grin and walks to approach, gesturing an obsidian-gauntleted hand to Syton. "Master Temple here got it the worst, arrow to the shoulder. We haven't touched it, since I believe our...'healer'...also sustained a serious enough wound."

Katriana Nillu trails out of the tent after the men, glancing over to Temple and offering a thin attempt at a smile. She adjusts her cloak about her shoulders, flicking back a strand of hair starting to fall free from her braid.

Celeste follows not far behind the Lomasa, an image of black and white as she turns to watch Temple. Concern knitting her blonde brow together as she moves to stand at his side. "How are you holding up, Syton?" She inquires quietly of the freelander.


 * "The Blood Guard are under my leadership, but not my command per se," Soravyn notes as he heads up the entourage that emerges from within the command tent, scarlet half-plate glistening as it refracts what little light it can from the sporadic torches and lanterns that scatter the camp. "They're not a military, nor a militia, but we get by."


 * Steel blue falls upon Temple as Norran points him out, expression turning grave. "Well," he sighs, "I'm sure he appreciates the concern you obviously hold for his well being. Master Temple, is it?" he barks, prowling towards the fallen Freelander with concern evident upon his features, lowering to a crouch as he pulls up before him, "Hmm... we need to remove that arrow. As they used to say in Eastwatch - or so Lucky once told me - this will hurt like a bitch, but it needs to be done. I can tend to your wound after that."

Like a good kid, Milora decided to put herself out of the fun to make sure that there was at least one able-bodied person outside of the tent. Milora crouches by Temple with the air of a hen with one chick, clearly agitated and overly thoughtful. She pulls at the skin of a rough cuticle, nibbling on her bottom lip - when Celeste approaches she looks up, but says nothing.

Lucius Nepos kneels down by Syton's side, letting his shield rest on the ground for the moment. "You're a strong lad, Temple. The pain's temporary, but if we leave it in it could be a lot more permanent. Told ye the Wildlands had their perks, eh?" He tries to make the moment lighthearted by chuckling. "Lucky's lucky for finding a friend. Not so much for finding a siege. We will rectify this." He picks his shield up once more and then orders Milora and Norran, pointing at both, to "Go find some materials around camp and see if you can't scrounge leather for a tent or an empty tent. Report back after."

"My Lord," Syton says with a nod to Soravyn, looking both confused and tired, but more of the latter. The blood loss probably is not helping much, either. Quickly, to Celeste, he says, "I am fine," before returning his attention back to Soravyn. He offers a demoralized sigh and nods slowly. "If you must, my Lord, then do it... Light save me..."

"Leather? If I see any discarded pieces of it just floating around, I'll be certain to procure it," answers Norran to Lucius with a small chuckle, giving a nod of his head to Syton as he continues. "You'll be just fine, Master Temple. Master Stumper's given you worse than that and you've come back," he assures, taking a moment to return his claymore to the baldric on his back and offer a quick grin toward Milora. "Hear that, Milora? I suppose we get to go on a search, no need to worry of the Master Temple any longer. He's in fine enough care."

Katriana Nillu shifts to the side slightly, taking up Milora's spot near Temple once she's left it, kneeling down onto the ground next to him. "Just hang in there, right now," she offers encouragingly.

"There we are, Syton," Milora says quietly, reaching to touch the man's good shoulder. "What did I say on the ship? You're no coward ... and you're lucky that you're so well loved." Grinning, she gives Lucius a nod of her head and moves to stand next to Norran. Jogging his elbow momentarily: "I am not such a fine watchdog as Master Firelight, but I don't regret staying here with them."

"Leather?" Celeste looks from Lucius to Norran and then back to Soravyn. "Is there anything I can help with now, sir?" She inquires of the Archon. Only a quick glance towards Temple before looking back to the man.


 * "Grab the shaft," Soravyn instructs Lucius, keeping his gaze firmly affixed upon the Syton's wound, "And pull it forward. Quickly and smoothly. I imagine you know the drill. I'll move to stem the bleeding after that." He inclines his head at that, deeming it a sound plan. "And then we'll go from there." he pauses, turnign to glance at Celeste while shaking his head, before turning his attention back upon Temple. "Light save you indeed." he murmurs. "Do it."

Lucius Nepos does as instructed, fastening a gloved hand around the shaft of the arrow and pulling it firmly when the Justiciar gives the cue. The arrow is quickly discarded away. Lucius reaches into his bag to grab the first thing he can find... which happens to be a green vest made from cotton. He tears off a piece from it to help with the bandaging.

"Do not miss this, it is likely to be the most impressive thing I do," Syton says, to no one in particular, not seeming to be in a terribly good mood. Justifiably so! He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes, setting himself a brief moment before Lucius pulls the arrow out. "AH!" he screams sharply, twitching, and then wavering for a moment as it looks like he's about to pass out.

"At least we're off the ship," points out Norran, nudging Milora back almost playfully as he begins to look around the encampment with a discerning eye. He only winces faintly at the cry, but seems to take no further pain from it than that as he walks along with Milora. "Apparently, that man you see there is the former Justiciar. He went missing some months ago. No idea why he's out here. But either way, they say that the ones firing from the Refuge are, in fact, banditry. Outlaws that took the township over, while they are the true denizens, locked out as it were. Lucius intends for us to aide in the recapture. It should be quite the time."

Katriana Nillu presses a hand into Syton's good shoulder comfortingly, offering a thin smile. "Hang in there," she says quietly. "The pain should be over with soon, and then you'll feel much better considering there won't be an arrow in your shoulder."

"Do we have one of those satchels like the one that brought on the boat?" Celeste inquires, looking down at the wound. "The Duchess put in explicit directions," she looks about. "Of course, I believe I left that one on the boat…" she mutters softly.


 * As Lucius pulls the arrow free of Temple's body, Soravyn takes that moment to remove the gauntlets that cover his hands, placing them upon the ground at his feet. As soon as the arrow is fully dislodged, the Archon makes his own move.


 * Ignoring the makeshift bandage of torn cotton, he instead opts to stanch the (now somewhat severe) bleeding by placing the palm of his left hand *firmly* upon the gaping hold in Temple's shoulder, promptly placing the palm of his right hand atop that in turn, crossing one above the other, pressing both against the arrow wound, expression one of deep concentration as he attempts something rather unconventional from a Fastheldian point of view, Syton's blood seeping through the gaps between his fingers as he holds his hands there...

"Looks like we will not need to do that; I'll need one of you to act as a runner down to the boat to update the Captain and the others on our situation. Tell them that we're staying up here for the night and that they should keep the boat in order." Lucius says to no one in particular in the group, watching Soravyn's hand peculiarly. "Tell Thayndor we will be staying here until this siege is over."


 * Ask and you shall receive.


 * A warmth envelops Syton's shoulder; a soft glow of holy light emanating from the Archon's hands as he holds them there, a tingle of divine force in the air around those that look upon the scene. It lasts for half a minute, yet when Soravyn Zahir removes his hands from the shoulder of the stricken Freelander, all trace of wound is removed. No pain, no scar, no internal injury, no muscular or bone damage at all. All that remains is the blood that escaped but a few moments prior to the act of renewal, and a general sense of *something* greater.


 * "Well," Soravyn notes, looking at his hands for a moment, and then back upon the hole in Syton's attire. He doesn't finish that remark.

Emitting a low, sympathetic moan, Milora glances over her shoulder at Syton and glances unhappily at Norran. "So, a wild township overtaken by rogues? How strange that the outsiders have outsiders." She seems distracted, however, by the process of Syton's healing. She grips Norran's wrist momentarily and quirks the side of her mouth. "Tent material."

"I stopped finding things 'strange' ages ago, Milora. Less headache that way," replies Norran with an amused chuckle, his attention not at all on Syton as he peers about the encampment, wandering around somewhat aimlessly. "Yes... material. You think we'd have plenty back on the ship, or even with us, or even if they have some extra around here if they're going to let us stay?"

Katriana Nillu watches Soravyn with a look of wonder across her features, blinking before a smile appears and she looks back to Temple. "See, it did not take you so very long to heal," she notes, and offers another squeeze to the good shoulder before she rises again, brushing off her knees.

Syton wavers on the edge of consciousness for a few moments before coming back around. The power of the Light flowing through him seems to work marginally better than a slap in the face. He takes a slow, deep breath, and cautiously looks at his shoulder. He blinks, rotates his shoulder a few times, and begins poking at it in exploration. A smile comes to his face, and he looks up to Soravyn. "Thank you," is all he says.

Celeste's sea green eyes only sparkle and brighten at the show of power by the Zahir. A quick glance towards Lucius is given, though she seems to lose interest and focus on Soravyn again just as quickly. "Seems you'd make a better Priest than I..." she states, slyly. “How are you feeling now, Syton?" She inquires of the freelander, though her gaze is clearly on the Justiciar.

"It is good to know that the power of the Light works with us, today. I will need someone to volunteer for the runner duty else I'll choose." Lucius states again, nodding at the wound healing. "Let us hope that the Shadow Wraith that followed us from Fastheld does not come here during the siege. It could be damaging, though I suppose at least you might know what to do, sir."


 * Soravyn pushes himself back onto his feet, collecting his gauntlets in the process while offering a soft nod down at Temple in reply to the thank you. "Honestly?" he asks Lucius in a voice not quite his own, offering no reply to Celeste's comment, "I'd leave it until the morning, or perhaps the afternoon. For now, find a place to rest." He pauses, looking upon the group as a whole, "All of you. You're welcome here, and all within will extend that courtesy. Just... try not to stare at the Naga."


 * With that, and without a single word more, he heads back towards the command tent.

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