We departed from Aughaire in the morning, as agreed, deciding to strike out south and search the Ram Duath first. It is somewhat safer than Fasach Larran, lacking wargs for a start, and it is far less likely that we would run into Iron Crown followers there than we would at Donvail - which is teeming with them.
I took the lead for the most part, Davick at my heels and Marinette and Guvadan slightly behind us to keep an eye out for any sign of enemies on our trail. It was decided along the way that the best place to search would be Duvaire since the plant we sought grows in rocky areas. This, of course, meant getting past the orcs undetected, not to mention the strange bat-like women who stalk that small area of the valley.
Still, they heeded me when I told them to stay close to the cliffsides, knowing that the orcs do not see as well as we in daylight and that we could bypass the nearby stockade without incident providing there were no patrols. We made it past Skathmur with no trouble, but Marinette and Guvadan were forced to battle a few orcs arguing around a siege engine after we made it through the next pass. Unfortunately, Wolf did not follow me as closely as he should when we made a run for Duvaire and by the time we realised that we had lost him, the two sighted warriors were forced to turn their attention to fighting off the bat-women. I stayed out of the way as best I could. I may have some training courtesy of Blaecwyn and her men as well as some of the hunters in Aughaire, but I knew that I would only get in the way if I tried to help there.
A part of me felt shame at my inability to do anything but watch, and even more of me felt shame for failing the one task I had been set - to keep Davick close - but what else could I do? I am no warrior. My combat skills are aimed at self-defence only and, even then, I am loathe to use them if I have another choice. So, I watched as the two before me worked in tandem to clear our path of the hostile... people? Creatures? Whatever they may be.
Thankfuly, Wolf had been drawn to us by the sound of the fight and we were able to press ahead without needing to return to search for him. Alas, the root we sought was not within Duvaire itself, thus the others decided it best we search the caves. I have heard stories of them, of course, but never entered them myself. Not before then, anyway. Now I have and I cannot say that it is was a pleasant experience.
Long-dead orcs lay strewn inside the entrance, their stench barely carried away by the large cracks in the high ceiling. Plants grew here, this much was plan from the scrub bushes leading up to the covered passage ahead, but I fear that they hide more grisly sights than what we had already seen. All along the passageway, the bat-women hung upside down from their taloned feet, sleeping it seemed, but regardless of how silent our footfalls were, they neverthless awoke and jumped down at us as we neared. I think more came from Duvaire, or perhaps some had been hunting and slipped into the caverns via the gaping crack at the beginning of the tunnel, for one managed to sneak up behind us.
Guvadan noticed it and bade me be still, perhaps hoping that it, like the bats it resembles, relies more on hearing than sight. Whether it saw me or heard my breathing I know not, for no sooner had he raised his sword than the thing jumped at me. I managed to get out of the way in time, but not before the dratted creature had sunk its talons into my arm. Luckily, my furs are of a bugundy hue anyway, so no one noticed the blood seeping through and I made no mention of it. We had more pressing matters at hand than whether or not my arm hurt.
We managed to make it to the main... nest, I suppose. Those three did their best with the inhabitants, Davick trying to help as best he could on his hearing alone whilst I went off to rummage amongst the flora. Whilst I was away, it seems, one of the bat-things managed to give him a nasty swipe across the midriff. Stubborn thing that he is, though, he insisted that he was just fine and kept fighting until I showed Marinette the handful of similar-looking tubers I had managed to gather and she ordered us to run as fast as we could from the place.
Thankfuly, I had thought to bring some bandages along with me, so once we made it outside, I strapped him up as best I could for the moment whilst the other two kept the angry screechy things away from us. Little of note occured on the way back to Aughaire and once we were there I set about trying to tend Wolfs wounds.
Stubborn and ungrateful man! He was a worse patient than usual, accusing me of being a demon at one point and holding his blade to my throat. I know the man too well to take it seriously, though. He would never, could never, harm me. Still, he point blank refused to lie flat so I could stitch him properly, instead stretching to one side at an awkward angle, complained bitterly when I cleaned the wounds to try preventing infections, and even shouted at me for daring to stitch when only moments before he had demanded that I do just that! Impossible creation!
After he had staggered off to make sure that Marinette and Guvadan were not making good use of a bush somewhere, I sorted my own wound out, then went to speak with the healers to see if any of them knew what to do with the root. After being given a few suggestions, I returned to my tent to think.
I was contemplating the best way to make a salve from this unfamiliar root, and whether it would be safe to create a draught from it also, when Davick came to me to thank me for aiding him. Were I not so weary at that point, so emotionally battered by recent events, I might have been surprised but all I felt was a bitter amusement. The amount of verbal abuse that man has given me, the misery he has caused and the pain he has put me through, and for the first time since I have known him he says thank you? But not for always being there, not for the many times I have pieced him back together when she left him without word, not for putting up with his tantrums and stopping him from doing stupid, irrational things. No, he thanked me for doing my job; for tending to his wounds.
I know not if I am simply exhausted, or if it has all become so much to bear that I have closed myself off for protection, but I feel empty now.
