[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (33 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias



The doors at the top of the stairs and the end of the tunnel opened 
up between a stand of pines, framed by several granite sentinels that 
kept the door hidden from all but the most determined of hunters. 
Elizabaeg and the eight men with her all scrambled up and out of the 
tunnel eager to get away.

"We can crush them with this rock!" Brigsne said as he and three 
other men moved behind a slab of stone that had begun to crack off 
from the main section. They braced themselves between the rock wall 
and the slab and pushed with hands and legs.

"Just one moment!" Luvig said, as he looped the rope winch to open 
the doorway through the small handle of one of his jars.

"Hurry," Elizabaeg snapped as she moved back to where the men 
struggled. "I can hear them coming!"

And indeed they could hear the pounding of heavy paws as the two pups 
thundered down the tunnel after them.

"Just have to tie a knot..." Luvig muttered to himself, his eyes ever 
on the jar and not on the open pit into darkness before him. From out 
of that pit they could hear the baking snarls and slavering yips grow 
closer. And closer.

And then their hulking forms drove into view, slowing only a pace as 
they rounded the turn in the tunnel and started rushing up the long 
stone steps toward the light. Their golden eyes gleamed in the 
brightness of dawn's birth, and their fangs shone as bronze spears, 
like an ancient army marching to war in full regalia. They raced up 
the steps on all fours, wicked claws scraping away the stone.

"That's it!" Luvig cried, and then he swung the jar downward and ran 
away. The jar, tied to the end of the rope, swung in a long arc, just 
missing the stairs in front of the two pups, before shattering 
against the rock ceiling and showering a bright yellow powder over 
the two beasts. They stumbled and crashed into the steps, sneezing 
and clawing madly at themselves as the gagging stench rose up and 
assaulted them. The tunnel had became a demon's outhouse and the 
infernal beasts were trapped inside.

A loud crack echoed beside them as the stone slab broke free and 
rushed across the sort space of grass and down the steps. The two 
pups yelped and ran back down the steps. The stone caught the rope 
and yanked the doors shut with a loud bang. The members of the 
Resistance looked at each other, the tunnel door, and then at Luvig.

"It worked..." Brigsne murmured in astonishment.

"I've never seen them run," Luvig almost crowed in his delight. "Two 
years of breaking bones and collecting piss, and they ran! Praise Eli!"

Elizabaeg looked at the scrawny man and shook her head. "I don't want 
to know any more about that. And I don't think it will stop them 
long. Let's hurry. They know we're here and once they get whatever 
that was off of themselves, they'll be following our trail."

"There's a stream not too far south of hear that cuts across to the 
east," Luvig pointed. "They'll have a wonderful time following us in 
that." He carefully hoisted his pack which held the rest of the jars. 
Each were sequestered in their own little pouch to keep them from 
jostling, but Elizabaeg was still amazed that none of them had broken 
in their run. "Trust me."

She grimaced but nodded. "Let's go. And let's hope the others find us too."

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Gmork's youngest felt like somebody had dunked his head in a bucket 
of hot coals. He scraped at his face to get the burning stinking 
powder from his flesh and fur but it didn't seem to help at all. Fire 
seared him from a thousand different directions and his mind 
descended into a chaos of howls, barks, and whines. His fangs yearned 
to tear into something and rend it to a bloody ruin.

"Hold still!" his older brother snapped with a growl. He did his 
best, grasping at his calves and digging his claws into the fur there 
while his tail tucked up between his legs. He gritted his teeth and 
kept his eyes shut. He couldn't smell anything but a rotten 
flatulence coating the inside of his nostrils. He could hear his 
brother murmuring words to an incantation, and then a moment later he 
felt a strong wind driving through his fur. He couldn't tell where it 
was coming from and where it was going, but the agony of the 
putrescence was quickly leached away.

And with it too went the fire scalding his flesh. When the wind died 
away, he gasped and slumped on the bridge, looking at his clawed 
hands and rubbing it over his long snout, furred cheeks, ears and 
head. The fur had shriveled in a myriad tiny patches; he brushed 
little black balls of melted hair off of his face as he blinked and 
looked around.

His brother was glaring off to the north but didn't leave his side. 
After a moment he glanced back down and growled, "Father will need to 
know about this. Come."

They ran on two feet back to the mill and found their brothers 
climbing up a staircase hidden behind the inner waterwheel. They were 
drenched in wine and smelled of burned fur. They glowered and shifted 
into more human shapes so that they would not look as foolish.

"What happened?" the eldest of Gmork asked.

"Some strange yellow powder," the second pup replied as he squeezed 
wine from the fur tufts on his mostly human arm. "I've never seen or 
smelled anything like it. It was... horrible. They left a cask of 
wine down below and we washed it off with that."

"We only saw four," the youngest offered when he finally managed to 
stop pulling the melted fur balls from his face. "But I know I heard 
more. Where did they go?"

The second gestured to the south with a clawed finger. "The tunnel 
opened up somewhere in the woods. We'll find it and track them down. 
You two go back to Father. You need your rest."

"We will." The eldest wagged hi naked tail and his blue eyes gleamed 
with anger. "But first I want to find some of this powder. Father 
will want to see it."

The two wine-drenched pups growled and shook themselves. "There's 
plenty left at the end of the tunnel." They stepped out of the mill 
and let their snouts grow, black noses testing the air. "I never want 
to smell that again," he growled deep and angry. And then the two of 
them dropped to all fours and bounded away into the woods.

Gmork's youngest watched them go, and then wrinkled his nose. There 
was an odd bird scent inside the mill too. "Wait here," his older 
brother said through clenched teeth. "I will be right back."

He barked once in agreement and then scrambled up into the hayloft to 
study that scent. He pondered what it could mean as he'd never 
smelled a bird quite like that. And as he rummaged through the old 
hay, he hoped that his brother found something to mask that vile powder's odor.


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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


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