SESSION 003 - MURDER MOST FOUL
STARDAY, 01 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CYThe companion’s minds still reeled from the events that had taken place in the crypt moments ago. If it hadn’t been for their swift thinking they might have not been so lucky. Both the druid and the dwarf had sustained serious injuries during the battle with the undead and they needed healing. Brother John would be able to aid them with some healing once they made it to Tarrick’s cottage. “Markus make haste to Brother John tell him of our situation,” said the dwarf, “Tell him that we are going to need healing.”
Darius leaned heavily on his staff as he watched the ranger climb the rungs to the graveyard above. He thought back to the fight with undead, “The old rage had swelled up inside of him, as it had done so many years ago.” One by one they climbed up to the graveyard, tired and wounded they waited for Markus to return with Brother John.
The wooden door to the cottage opened, the cold wintery night air filled the room. Brother John turned to see who had entered the healer’s home. “Oh … it is you. Where are the others?” asked the Cuthbertine priest, turning to tend to Tarrick’s wounds. “Warm yourself over there by the fire.”
Just as he was about to answer the priest, the priest called out.
“Quick fetch me some cold water from the table and be quick about it,” said the priest. He fetched the crude clay jug from the table and handed it to the priest. “The others will be here soon,” he said as he watched the priest tend to Tarrick.
Brother John was concerned, Tarrick’s had started a fever due to his infected wounds, The priest scrounged through the healer’s bag that he had found in the cottage, tossing items to the floor and bed. Finally he found what he was looking for, Sphagnum Moss or more commonly known as Bog Moss.
John took some of the reddish brown moss that had been dried and mixed it with a bit of the water; he formed a paste in the palm of his hand. He then carefully cleaned the infected area and applied the Sphagnum paste with his finger to the infected area. Once he was satisfied that the wound was properly treated, John covered the wound with fresh cloth that he had found in the bag. He lay is hand on the wound and said a silent prayer to St. Cuthbert.
While the priest cleaned his hands he said, “So what’s taking our friends so lo …...” It was at that point that John felt the cold blade being thrust into his side, but it wasn’t until he felt the blade being forced upwards; tearing through his flesh, muscle and bone that he felt the pain exploded throughout the side of his body.
“You will not find eternal rest dear John,” whispered the assailant
Then he felt the tip of the blade touch his heart and the pain stopped, replaced by a sudden coldness. He could feel the cold steel of the dagger lingering, as if paused for effect. It was moments later that the tip of the dagger pierced his heart, but there was no pain, at first. Suddenly John screamed out in pain as he felt his very soul, his life essence being drawn into the blade; it felt like his soul was being ripped apart. Then there was darkness …
Tarrick woke from his fevered dream hearing the scream and then he felt something heavy fall on his legs. He felt weak and groggy. Closing his eyes he tried to focus his vision to see what had pinned his legs and had caused his stomach to erupt with pain.
His head still reeled with pain, but he managed to focus on the scene before him … Tarrick let out a startled cry, Brother John’s lifeless eyes peered back at him from the bottom of the bed, a man stood near with his back to Tarrick. The healer saw the blade in the man’s hand, blood dripping to the floor, and then the man turned.
“NO! Why? Markus what have you done” exclaimed Tarrick.
“I did what needed to be done.” He said with a smile.
Markus walked to the door cleaning his blade on a bit of cloth he found on the floor. “I will fetch the others,” he said closing the door behind him.