Chapter 2: Playing With Fire

[Vardaen]

"Excellent, we have a dinning tent set up over there." He points at one of the pavilions. "You can find yourselves a meal and drink there." He points at another smaller tent, "That one you can wash up in, I'm afraid we don't have bathes, but we have basins with hot water, and Morwen was it, you can find yourself a set of garments if you like among them too."

He pauses, almost as if listening to some unheard words, "If you would excuse me, I'm being summoned, I will return to you shorty. I am curious to hear about you travels in these lands. I need some accurate scouting reports and be the sounds of it you may be able to assist me in that."

***
The smaller tent has hot water basins set up with small bowls of lye provided to wash up with. There are a few small jars of lilac infused oils to use to remove the smell (which proves to be a nice change from the smell of burning flesh all around the city). You can find sets of simple clothing, marked with the Order of Lietbur and Icatia on them if you wish to change -- no one is going to wash your clothing, its all too far gone for that, but you can get fresh clothing, and even some shoes (except for Mongo they don't have any that big).

***
The mess hall tent is a bit larger than the others, there are long low tables set up with log benches and stools placed all around of it. There is a small portable stove, a cook and his two aides working to make thick beef stew and warm up bread. There are bowls and spoons and knives on the table, a keg of rich mead is on a small stump. Four men are sitting eating and drinking, they are about half way done. They looks like Icitan Soldiers, with white (and soot stained) tunics over chain armor. Their spears and swords are stacked on the rack outside. They are sullen, quiet, and talk with each other seriously about their day.

[ManWithDoor]

While some may pigeon-hole all from barbarous tribes as being completely unfamiliar with the basic ideas of hygiene, plague control measures as important in such a tight-knit community. A pox could spell the end for a tribe in a matter of weeks. While perks such as perfumes and the like are rare indeed, Mongo revels in being clean for the first time in days if not weeks. He vigorously scrubs away the blood and ashes, cleansing away the scent of death.

The large man enters the mess tent, towering over everyone there. He patiently lines up to get the beef stew and bread, as well as a large mug of mead. He then trudges over to the Icatian soldiers, sitting down heavily next to them. He gives them a little toast with his mug, then starts digging in to the fresh food.

[Othniel]

Morwen nearly turns up her nose at the marked clothing...nearly. It is far better than what she'd stripped from a slaver corpse, and most importantly it is clean. She quickly changes and washes up, spurning modesty for speed. A quick glance can perhaps reveal the stripes the slavers left upon her back. When finished, she too seeks food, perching herself not far from the big man and eating hungrily.

[Grimbold]

Eyris also cleans herself, not very shy, and then gets herself new clothing. The hunter then follows the others. She has never been in such a big house and feels awkward. She follows Mongo and does as he does.

[Vardaen]

The soldiers look at Mongo, one chimes up, "Look Ciran, its one of the local barbarians. See I told you they knew how to use a fork." The men all laugh at the joke at Mongo's expense.

Ciran, finishing laughing says, "Be nice, its not his fault he was born in the middle of thisJunil Forsaken wasteland. At least he doesn't have an Ebony band on his wrist."

The other nods. The third pipes up commenting to Morwen & Eyris, and you realize now its woman, with just a short military haircut, "Heard there were some escaped slaves here. Hope you torn up these Calabim bastards right good in your escape."

The food is good hearty food, it fills you up, its hot, and the mead is the best you've had in a long long time (not too difficult considering).

[Othniel]

"I was locked in a cage for the battle, but I managed to freeze the balls off one of them," Morwen mutters. She would have much preferred to have her spell component pouch on hand, but beggers couldn't be choosers.

[ManWithDoor]

Mongo focuses on wolfing down as much warm food as they'll keep giving him. If he notices someone is going short because of him he would stop, but otherwise he is treating this as a feast day. "Kill many, yes." He speaks between bites. "Evil slavers, capturing good people." He pauses longer, thinking. When he starts up again, it is a voice of sadness. "Maybe they good people once, long ago. Became lost, in a dark place. Never found their way back to good."

[Grimbold]

Eyris eats heartily, too. For her people, it is not often that they can eat what they want. The dark-skinned half-elf is skinny and not too tall, but she eats hungrily. For a time, she ignores the soldiers. "Yes, we killed many. We killed a good deal when we escaped, then later, we killed a whole caravan with several wagons, and left the bodies to rot in the hot sun. I am a hunter. I hunt animals for food. I also hunt slavers." She walks over to the woman. "I'm Eyris. And yes, I do not know what a fork is. But I can fight. What's your name?"

[Vardaen]

The man speaking to Mongo shakes his head, "If these people were good once, it was very long ago, like centuries or whatever is longer than centuries. These people are nothing but evil, every damn one of them." He points, "The more of them you killed the better off we all are."

The woman smiles at Morwen, "Good, its the least these slime deserve."

She smiles at Eyris, "Rotting in the sun, its too good for them. Eventually Junil's justice will come for all of this acursed land." She moves over to sit with Eyris and Morwen, "Name is Reonda." Unlike some of the others she doesn't offer up a surname or a placename to go with it. "Heard what happened to your friend in the town. Also heard the Lord Commander sent someone to fetch his body. We aren't like these Calabim, your friend needs a right and proper funeral."

[Othniel]

"I barely knew him," Morwen says quietly. "But he seemed a decent enough sort and helped free me from my cage. It is the least he deserves."