As soon as Aanbo, Chase and spider-Theran moved towards Ramne's hut, Myrtha found a spot in which to set Reptile's body on the ground, on a blanket of leaves and moss. She looked around her, making sure there were no prying eyes, no sound of approaching movement. Once she was satisfied she was alone, she crouched by her fallen companion and began whispering.
"I'm sorry I failed you, friend," she took a deep breath, and continued.
"Two weeks travelling on our own, sharing war stories and laughing at stupid jokes. And as soon as we get a mission, a real mission, I fucked it up." Her voice cracked a bit, as stronger emotions began boiling up.
"I've trained for years to be the shield. To put my body in front of the thrusting spears and slashing axes... and what good was that? A fucking bar brawl! A club to the head and that's it. Fucking Hamiff still breathing down there. And when we come back, if we come back, I wager he'll have to be beaten to near death again."
Anger was upstaging grief, so she consciously tried to calm down.
"At least that torturer is in the Pits, stuck up the Dark One's smelly arse crack... Derek won't be torturing no more..." she continued, a bitter smile momentarily touching her lips, as the image she evoked settled in her mind. Then sadness again,
"Fuck, Reptile! Why'd you have to go?" she pleaded, tears coursing down her cheeks. She'd suffered loss before, even more personal loss. But there was something particularly bruising about the barbarian's demise. Maybe it was the pointlessness of it all. They'd been framed by these cultists, and had done so much effort to 'clear their name' when, as a matter of fact, most villagers would be right to think of them as ruthless foreign killers. This cult was devious and organised, they'd fallen victims to a trap and they'd ought to have known better.
"I hope we'll manage to get Joseph back, friend. I'd hoped that they'd have taken the little guy to that fucking inn, but we found no trace of him, " the warrior-woman continued, concern creasing the corners of her eyes, which she then hid behind her dirty, blood speckled hands.
"When... if we return, we'll have to be a lot smarter about it. I hope there's still time for Joseph."
She sniffed once or twice, and touched the barbarian's cheek, on the side not crushed by Hamiff's clubbing.
"I'll have vengeance, in your name, friend. And a tale to tell your family, once I track them down. They ought to know what you gave your life for. They ought to know the people who took your life are all back to the mud, and that you ain't died for nothing".
She removed her hand from her companion's face, with a hint of shyness, as if ashamed of a closeness she had not realised was there. She rubbed away the last few tears from her face, and stood up. She took out her hand axe, and began looking for a couple of staves, or long branches she might be able to cut. They'd need to move faster with the body, and an improvised stretcher might be their best choice, given the circumstances. They should have enough rope, and they might find vines that were tough enough. She put her mind to such practical matters, if only to escape the dreary feelings that the previous night' toil had left her with.
Last edited March 2, 2025 9:01 pm