Journey to Volmyr (10)

Meetlemire and Grensyl are riding on a loose rock and gravel path. Over the years, wagons have slowly worn the stone down to small pebbles, making the journey smooth for Meetlemire and Grensyl and just uncomfortable for Garrick and Kyra. Still, given their current state, it's the best-case scenario for travelling in the wilderness. Grensyl sits, itching his face. His hair is short and dark red colour, with the beginnings of a stubbly red beard poking through his relatively flat and broad face. It's odd for a dwarf to be clean-shaven, and Grensyl is scratching his face in evident discomfort, catching the eye of Meetlemire.

"You okay, Grensyl?" Meetlemire sheepishly asks.

Grensyl looks toward Meetlemire slightly as he continues to scratch, and a bright red rash begins to show now.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I forgot to shave this morning, and it itches like you wouldn't believe." Grensyl chuckles but is definitely in discomfort but tries to hide it somewhat.

"It's rather odd for a dwarf to have no beard, right? Oh! Wait, I'm sorry!" Meetlemire apologises before Grensyl can even get a word out, realising he might be offended by the question.

"You can relax, Meetlemire. It's a normal question to ask, and I'm as rare as they come. In my younger days, when I was more gung-ho, someone grabbed my beard and almost managed to stab their dagger right into my throat. I pulled my head away and left a chunk of my beard for them as a souvenir before I sent them to their god, and ever since then, I shave it so It can't be used against me." Grensyl speaks plainly and without a tinge of regret in his voice about his younger, more 'aggressive' days while Meetlemire stares intently with genuine interest, which takes Grensyl off-guard as no one ever tended to take an interest in his life.

"Enough about me, though. In these circumstances, you and your pals are the most interesting people in the world to me." Grensyl changes the subject. Although happy speaking about his past, Garrick is too intriguing to gloss over.

Meetlemire visibly closes off slightly, which Grensyl takes notice of.

"I'd tell you in a heartbeat, I swear! But It's Garrick's story to tell!" Meetlemire rushes his words, annoyed at being rude to someone like Grensyl, who has been so helpful, but his allegiance to Garrick, although short, supersedes his politeness to Grensyl.

Grensyl lifts his hand, motioning it up and down to get Meetlemire to relax.

"Calm down, Meetlemire. I'm not gonna force you to tell me a thing. I'm just curious, is all. That guy back there, 'Garrick?' is just an anomaly to me. If I was an evil son of a bitch I'd be experimenting on him, trying to get some answers."

Grensyl chuckles but stops himself, seeing Meetlemire is pale white. Realising what he said was a bit too much, he doesn't waste time apologising.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by that. I'm not that kind of guy! It's just a sick joke. I'll be quiet now."

A small giggle is heard from the back, weak but noticeable. Meetle and Grensyl both have a quick peek into the carriage and see Garrick's eyes open, trying to laugh at the conversation.

"If It were anyone else in your position, I'd be amazed they're conscious; hell, I'd be amazed they're even still alive." Grensyl acted surprised but with a hint of sarcasm.

"The comment...was funny 'cause It did...happen." Garrick weakly says.

Grensyl's eyes go wide as Garrick has another weak chuckle.

"I'd tell you the story, but even breathing hurts like a motherfucker." Garrick coughs up a little blood. "Meetle can tell you the story."

Meetle has a worried look on his face. "You sure, Garrick? I don't want to mess up any details, and this is kind of personal."

Garrick weakly gives a thumbs up to Meetle in approval as Meetle gives a large sigh.

"Okay, it's quite the story, Grensyl."

Meetlemire takes some time in describing the events to Grensyl while leaving the more 'painful' ones up to his imagination by giving only snippets out of respect to Garrick. The sun hangs low now as it falls behind the Coldstone mountains, the deep orange glow shining against the scenery.

Grensyl sits quietly after hearing of Garrick's party's past, which makes Meetle uneasy.

"I'm not saying you're lying, Garrick, but the Archnobles are the most elite fighting force the Sovereignty has to offer. If they were in such a serious fight and died, then It should have been national news. It would've spread like wildfire." Grensyl says while his face is bunched up, rubbing his chin with a puzzled face. "Whatever this 'primordial artefact' is, the 'Shadowed Ones' and Xzeralaki are terrible news. To be willing to fight the Archnobles over it means the artefact is of extreme importance. I have a feeling the guild won't have any information on your quest, Garrick. The military has a tendency to keep matters of the utmost importance very hush-hush."

Meetlemire interjects before Garrick can respond.

"My parents live in Volmyr. They used to be part of the magic academy, so if the guild lead goes nowhere, they might have an insight that could help."

Garrick slowly raises himself to a sitting position.

"Grensyl's probably right about the guild having scrubbed all information regarding it. I just want to get to Volmyr at this point. Feels like forever since I felt safe."

Meetlemire nods in agreement while Grensyl chirps up with another comment.

"Only an hour of light left, I think. We should camp up and let me inspect your injuries. We need to keep on top of them to avoid infection."

After travelling for twenty or so more minutes, they eventually find a suitable place to sleep for the night. A small stream only a foot across trickles by them with a bit of vegetation nearby. Rocks and gravel are the main sources of the landscape, and it'll keep that way until they get off the mountain and reach the plateau, which signifies that Volmyr is close.

Grensyl and Meetlemire set up the tent while Garrick stays in the carriage. He looks at his runes again, running his fingers over them, the deep indent as his mind is thrown back to Jarathus, inflicting them onto him. His memory remembers every rune put on his body with perfect recollection. His hand shakes involuntarily as he grasps it closed and pushes the fear back once again. Grensyl and Meetle are having a minor spat outside as Meetle can't set up the tent with one arm, and Grensyl has never used one before, always sleeping under the stars.

"No, the pole goes that way!" Meetle exclaims.

"What way!? That way isn't a direction!" Grensyl fires back with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"The loop, the loop!" Meetle shouts as he points.

"It can't reach that loop!" Grensyl angrily stammers back.

Usually, Meetle would set the tent up within ten minutes, but twenty minutes later, they were not even halfway done.

Garrick looks at Kyra, who is wrapped in her bandages. With her nose smashed flat, she resorts to mouth-breathing, causing a great deal of snoring that rattles the carriage. The loudness doesn't seem to bother Garrick. Instead, it brings him comfort, knowing she is still breathing. Kyra is loud when awake, so it seems fitting she is loud when asleep, too.

Grensyl arrives at the back of the carriage and lifts himself into it using the small step attached at the rear.

"Thank the gods that ordeal is over. For a quiet, well-mannered Gnome, he has a mean streak about that tent. " Grensyl chuckles as he takes a long sigh. "Let's see those bandages, If you're okay with it, Garrick."

"I haven't seen him like that before. He's getting that fighting spirit." Garrick warmly replies as he nods in approval, moving closer to Grensyl.

Grensyl carefully inspects the wounds on Garrick. Deep lacerations that cut down to the bone have closed up most of the way. His hand, which was a shattered, mangled mess, is now usable without a loss of feeling or control.

"Based on your healing, I'd give it a couple more days, and you'll be back to moving freely without hindrance. The superficial wounds are healing incredibly, but as for your internal organs, I won't know for sure, but I'd assume they'll recover at the same speed." Grensyl mutters as he closely looks at the wounds.

"I'm less worried about me. It's her." As Garrick looks toward Kyra, tilting his head.

"You hurting her was an accident. Along with her injuries from Darow and the strike to the skull, her body will be recovering for a while. She should be conscious by the time we reach Volmyr." Grensyl reassures him.

"And if not?" Garrick worriedly asks.

"Then we deal with that bridge when we get to it. There's no point stewing over it right now." Grensyl replies plainly.

Grensyl begins to inspect Kyra's wounds.

"Her pulse is regular. The ragged breathing is caused by the damaged nose, which is causing issues, but if her pulse is okay then we have nothing to worry about. The arrow wounds were the bigger problem, but it doesn't look like an infection, so she's in good condition. Rest heals all wounds, Garrick. So go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day." Grensyl pats Garrick on the shoulder as he leaves the carriage. "I'll keep guard tonight, so focus on sleeping, please.

Garrick has a sombre look on his face but gives a slight nod.

End Chapter