A RANGER IS BORN

CHAPTER 11 - Eastward Recovery

He awoke to the sound of gurgling water, and sunlight on his face. Birds were chirping in the trees overhead and cold water flowed over his battered body. With a shock, all of the pain hit him. He closed his eyes and groaned. The pain which screamed into his mind was even worse than he had anticipated as he forced his limbs to make the motions which brought him out of the water.

Slowly, Crentar began to think clearly. I need to tend to my wounds. I have to do it now before it's too late. Slowly, he worked his way to his feet and staggered over to a young elm tree. His entire right arm hung limp and twisted at an unnatural angle. First the shoulder, he thought. Quickly, before he could change his mind, he pulled sharply down while slamming his shoulder into the trunk of the elm. Stars and less identifiable patterns burst before his eyes and a scream echoed through the forest. Again. Blackness rose up around him and the world shrunk to a pinpoint of light in the darkness. Again. With a bone jarring pop, the arm settled back into its joint.

Some time later, he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and gazed for a long time at the canopy of leaves far above. Each breath was a sharp stab of pain. Slowly, he raised his head and examined his resources. By some miracle, both his sword and his dagger were still in their sheathes. He was missing his left boot, and his cloak was a torn and ragged mass of cloth. His tunic was mostly shredded and his light suit of mail gleamed through the rents. His bow was lost somewhere in the lair, his pack with his supplies were with the horses at the foot of the fissure. They might as well have been on the moon. This is not good. Not good at all, he thought.

Gathering his resolve, he stood and stripped off his cloak, letting it fall to the ground. He then drew forth his sword and hacked off two young branches to use as splints and slid down the trunk of the tree to continue his repair efforts. Slowly, with teeth clenched, he pulled the bones of his arm across each other back into their correct positions, and using strips of his cloak, tied on the splints.

After a short rest during which he cut up the rest of his cloak, he removed his shirt and mail coat. A huge and ugly looking bruise on the lower left portion of his chest met his gaze. Carefully, he probed his ribcage. Two broken, a third probably cracked. Not much I can do about it, he thought as he began to tightly wrap his ribs to immobilize them. Some time later when he finished, he stiffly worked his way back into the armor which had served him so well.

Crentar looked about him, taking stock of Natures' apothecary. Sogeweed, Ragtail, Formain bark, no help there. But soon, his eye stopped on a ground-hugging vine with dark and glossy leaves in the shape of arrowheads. Ah! Morgranda root! Just what I need. I'll pay badly for it later, but I need it now, he thought as he staggered over to the vine. Soon, he held in his hand the purple root of the plant. Quickly, he cut a sliver from the root and popped it into his mouth. The exceedingly bitter juices trickled down his throat and almost instantly, he could feel the powerful drug pouring through his veins. With each beat of his heart, he could feel the pain receding until he was comfortably numb. With a sigh, he slumped to the ground to enjoy the feeling.

Aftera short while of staring with unseeing eyes at an uninteresting pebble, Crentarflowed to his feet. The drug was stillstrong in him and the sensations coming from his arm and side were actuallyrather pleasant as he made his unsteady way eastward through the forest. In moments, there was no sign that anyone hadever visited the small burbling stream.

---------THE END

I really hoped you enjoyed this short story about the beginning adventures of the Ranger Crentar Bronn. Please give some feedback w comments or PMs. Perhaps we can convince the writer to give us some more adventures....

THX