Post by Eodain Cadori on Feb 26, 2014 14:04:05 GMT -5
He rested his back against a tree. After walking for several hours he felt exhausted. The wounds were healed but his former strength had yet to return.
Birds trilling and chirping in the canopy above as shafts of morning sunlight washed over the network of trees in Spiritwood Forest.
Eodain grimaced, holding his broken arm in its sling. It was still painful.
He had awoken in the outpost early in the morning and took to the forest paths for his daily patrol. In his recovery he was able to return to some of his normal life. He checked on his rabbit snares without any luck - replaced the bait that disappeared. He paid close attention to new growths on plants - a sign of the retreating winter season.
Leaning against the tree he touched at the linen bandaged wrapped around his head. The clean wrappings and healing salves from Gillian had significantly improved his condition.
Thoughts of the battle outside the outpost rushed back to him. A great fight with a black winged creature. Its inhuman wails still clear in his memory.
Its presence was the responsibility of the man known as Xanthus.
He brushed away the thoughts and after hesitation he unwrapped his head bandage with one hand, removing the stained cloth and placing it in his satchel.
He then reached to touch at the fresh scar. It wrapped around his forehead, from the center of his hairline to his temple. Gillian’s sutures were still in place along with dried blood but the wound had closed and infection seemed to recede. He was no longer experiencing the fever and headaches at night. Eodain turned on his side against the tree, resting his shoulder against it’s bark and taking up his waterskin he drank. Thinking of the other Rangers who have suffered under the new threats they were forced to face.
With the hopeless situations and the overwhelming odds he found some solace in the fact that his mind was more at ease with his current duties. His compatriots in Corinna’s outfit didn’t judge him for his past sins. He had made new friends and allies and the guilt of his past no longer burdened him.
He still missed his sisters Helene and Caelia. His admiration for them always present.
Thoughts of them brought back members of another - Kalaric. The rogue leader of the Guild of Thieves. At one time Eodain thought of the older man as a father. It wasn’t until Kalaric began to obsess over greed that they grew uncommonly distant.
Kalaric’s imprisonment was probably for the best - a recent justification Eodain forced himself to believe. If left to run the guild as it were - yes there was no doubt - it would have beset the balance of the kingdom. The trafficking of illegal goods through the underground markets came to wither and diminish after Kalaric was dragged into that abysmal dungeon.
Eodain closed the water bottle and pushing himself away from the tree he continued his walk through Spiritwood.
With great guilt he hoped that the last remainder of his sinful past died in a dark cell long ago.
Birds trilling and chirping in the canopy above as shafts of morning sunlight washed over the network of trees in Spiritwood Forest.
Eodain grimaced, holding his broken arm in its sling. It was still painful.
He had awoken in the outpost early in the morning and took to the forest paths for his daily patrol. In his recovery he was able to return to some of his normal life. He checked on his rabbit snares without any luck - replaced the bait that disappeared. He paid close attention to new growths on plants - a sign of the retreating winter season.
Leaning against the tree he touched at the linen bandaged wrapped around his head. The clean wrappings and healing salves from Gillian had significantly improved his condition.
Thoughts of the battle outside the outpost rushed back to him. A great fight with a black winged creature. Its inhuman wails still clear in his memory.
Its presence was the responsibility of the man known as Xanthus.
He brushed away the thoughts and after hesitation he unwrapped his head bandage with one hand, removing the stained cloth and placing it in his satchel.
He then reached to touch at the fresh scar. It wrapped around his forehead, from the center of his hairline to his temple. Gillian’s sutures were still in place along with dried blood but the wound had closed and infection seemed to recede. He was no longer experiencing the fever and headaches at night. Eodain turned on his side against the tree, resting his shoulder against it’s bark and taking up his waterskin he drank. Thinking of the other Rangers who have suffered under the new threats they were forced to face.
With the hopeless situations and the overwhelming odds he found some solace in the fact that his mind was more at ease with his current duties. His compatriots in Corinna’s outfit didn’t judge him for his past sins. He had made new friends and allies and the guilt of his past no longer burdened him.
He still missed his sisters Helene and Caelia. His admiration for them always present.
Thoughts of them brought back members of another - Kalaric. The rogue leader of the Guild of Thieves. At one time Eodain thought of the older man as a father. It wasn’t until Kalaric began to obsess over greed that they grew uncommonly distant.
Kalaric’s imprisonment was probably for the best - a recent justification Eodain forced himself to believe. If left to run the guild as it were - yes there was no doubt - it would have beset the balance of the kingdom. The trafficking of illegal goods through the underground markets came to wither and diminish after Kalaric was dragged into that abysmal dungeon.
Eodain closed the water bottle and pushing himself away from the tree he continued his walk through Spiritwood.
With great guilt he hoped that the last remainder of his sinful past died in a dark cell long ago.