[Flashback]My camp![Rhuryc]

[Markus Andres]

Returning to the camp soon after, Markus saw the old man was eating some of the food the men had prepared. Perhaps it was a bit vulture like to start eating the food of those they had just killed. But Markus wouldn't push his luck with the old man anymore. Despite his injuries, Markus was sure the old man could still give him a run for his Mizas. - Looking at the old man eat, Markus felt his own hunger make itself known. Markus copied the older man and found himself a bowl and helped him to some of their stew. Trying to use his right hand more than his left. No reason to annoy the wound he got. He tasted the food. Although it probably beat what average people ate, it certainly didn't beat what Markus was used to. But this wasn't Markus first trip into the wilderness. So he happily ate what he could get. Listening to the old man try and comfort Markus. Tell him a secret behind killing people. Tell yourself it was to save other people. Markus looked down at his bowl of stew. Having lost his appetite again. "Yea... I guess that... Helps..." He said weakly after a chime of staring hard at his stew. He would need time to process everything. Why hadn't he just surrendered. "How about you, are you alright? What do you say I escort you to Syliras in the morning." Markus asked looking up from the stew and at the recently self-tended old man. He just sat there. Staring into the fire. Rethinking his attack. If there was a way he could have knocked the man out. If he could just have looked away when he had killed the man. Stolen his life away. Why didn't he just surrender... WHY?!? Markus right fist clenched the bowl. Gripping the edge tightly. He suddenly just threw the bowl aside and searched through the camp for a shovel or something he could dig with. He found a rusty old shovel and stepped outside the camp and just started to dig. Putting his endurance to the test. His powerful muscles flexing as he drove the shovel through the ground and threw the dirt aside. They were in a forest, so Markus often struck a root or so, but he just tried to chop it with the shovel. There wasn't much logical thought behind his movements. He just tried to let his frustrations go by digging. Let his mind get occupied with something else.

[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc finished his stew. Ugh. Did the kid really have to freak out? Yes, death was difficult to deal with, sure, but this? He grumbled. And got more stew. A glance was all he needed to know what Markus was thinking about. Another way. Maybe it was better if he didn't mention the man the squire had left behind. The poor bastard was bait for every predator in the wood. Aw well. He shoved a few more spoon fulls into his mouth and gave Markus a nod when he was posed a question. An escort? Sure. Why not. He could ignore the chatter. Besides, it would be nice to have someone nearby in the light of another ambush. Why in the hell did that always happen to him in these blasted woods? Balls. The shovel was a nice touch. Rhuryc let Markus be. Taking care of his own needs, the man finished his meal then discarded the bowl. The flask was a nice touch. He took a nice, long draft from the alcohol he used to clean the wound before he stood and got to work. The bodies were an issue. If they were left to rot in the camp it was only a matter of time before the whole damn wood as at their doorstep. While Markus dug - Rhuryc imagined it was a grave of some kind - he made work of moving the lot of the fallen men. His armed complained. Nevertheless, Rhuryc persisted. Grabbing the fallen by the shoulders he proceeded to drag each of them nearby the rampant shoveling. One after the other. While moving them he kept their weapons nearby, laying each implement over their previous owner and laying them to rest with one another. There was a sort of honor in that, though Rhuryc was close lipped on the subject. "Make it big. If it's your intention to bury them all. A mass grave should suffice." He spoke, nonchalant and calm, sweating through the strain and the pain that flared in his arm. Bah. He needed to sleep.

[Markus Andres]

Cold sweat was dripping from the young squire's body. His left shoulder was hurting. His back was aching. His limbs were in protest. Markus didn't feel any of it. His mind had blocked out the world as the shovel dug into the ground again and again. Displacing more and more earth. He heard the old man talk to him. He didn't register the words, but he got the meaning. More digging. More. Just more digging. Despite his valiant efforts, the doubts crept back into his mind. Reminding of what he had done. He had killed someone from his own race. He had killed a sentient being. It was justice. You did your duty as a squire. You protected other travelers from this gang... Saved lives. The words echoed in his mind. But still. His guilt would not dissipate. The image of those eyes staring at him every time he blinked. Markus didn't know how long passed. But at some point not even his discipline could keep out the protests from his muscles and Markus stretched to his full height. A meager 6 feet. But he was standing in a 3½ feet hole. He looked to the corpses and immediately tasted bile in his throat, but nothing came. Markus looked from the corpses to the hole. Yes. Should be plenty of space. Markus crawled out of the hole and picked up the first corpse and dragged him into the grave. His back ached. His muscles ached even more. But still. He carried on. He would do this to every corpse. He didn't care if the old man helped or not. The last corpse, would be the corpse with an arrow sticking out the stomach. Markus would look to the old man. Utter a low thanks if he had helped with the corpses. If not, he would just continue to toil. He had to bury them again. Despite what how his body felt. He had to bury them. The only decent thing to do. Markus would begin to throw the dirt over the five men. Continue until the pile of disturbed earth had been thrown over the mass grave. When done, he would utter a prayer to Dira. Asking her to safely guide the men to their destination.

[Archon]

Illumination of Development Markus Andres +4 Bastard Sword +3 Shield +3 Composite Shortbow +3 Leadership +2 Interrogation +2 Medicine +2 Bodybuilding +1 Tracking +1 Wilderness Survival Lores: Starting a fire, Allying with strangers, Pain loosens lips, Power of a distraction, Dealing death, Morality of killing Other: While searching the camp Markus came across a stained cloth pouch containing 20 GM. Though his injuries are minor pushing himself so hard will leave him extremely sore and stiff for the next two days. Care to see more? : Bastard Sword, Shield, and Shortbow experience for the combat, Leadership experience for being all commanding and taking charge, Interrogation experience for getting the location of the camp, Medicine experience for the care of wounds, Bodybuilding experience for hauling the bodies and digging, Tracking experience for your bit while going to the camp, and Wilderness Survival experience for building the fire. Rhuryc +5 Weapon - Sword +5 Weapon - Shield +3 Stealth +2 Medicine +2 Philosophy +1 Bodybuilding +1 Tracking Lores: A firepit is a poor marker, Allying with strangers, Rushing throw attack, Ignoring a wound until the end, Being practical in a field of death Other: While searching the camp Rhuryc came across a leather pouch containing 30 GM. The arrow injury will weaken and pain Rhuryc's use of his arm for the next 10 day. Care to see more? : Sword and Shield experience for your combat, Stealth experience for your various bits of sneakiness, Medicine experience for patching up, Philosophy experience for talking about killing, Bodybuilding experience for moving the bodies, and Tracking experience for following the trail. Notes: A great little adventure! I particularly liked how you took combat and made it more artistic with your descriptions instead of the standard details of how you attacked. Rhuryc ended up finding a bit more money thanks to taking a more hampering wound during it all.