Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: jcarl@jabba.ess.harris.com (Joe Carl Jr.) Subject: [Ga] At Camp, Mathew disturbs Brent Message-ID: Date: Thu, 7 Jan 1993 21:29:35 GMT Mathew rode silently along with the rest of the group. Everyone seemed to be in a hurried mode, garriot was stewing about something and was not responding to Mathews small talk. Zebron the 'moon elf' was dozing on his horse, which was still being lead by Mathew. Mathew toyed with his father's locket around his neck and wondered what he was in for at Hawksholme. This group he followed had said the person responsible for his fathers death could be found there. Mathew rode along trying to find something in common with these people. Mathew had a strong need to be around people and to be needed, and this long silence was beginning to irritate him. Zebrons joke of being a drow was beginning to be a rub in his face too. A leason is a leason: I won't jump to conclusions next time without strong evidence! >The sun slowly disappeared into the horizon, and the riders likewise moderated >their horses. The ride had been a relatively fierce one, with all feeling the >need for speed, to both put distance away from the memory and deed of the >farmers' wrongful deaths, and to head towards Hawksholme and the answers that >would lie there. Camp was settling down and Mathew had helped gathering fire wood and seen to his horse Judge. Khisanth true to her word supplied him with some of her food for which he was grateful. A timid smile and a "Thank you very much Ma'am" brought no response as she went back to Alaric. Mathew felt out of place, most people liked him, but these people seemed too preoccupied to socialize properly. Most everyone went to their bed rolls early, some went to tents. Mathew was without a bed roll or tent since he had left in such a rush. He sat on a log watching the fire crackle and hiss. The sounds of the night were getting louder. Just then Mathew remembered Phillipe's horse with a cracked shoe. He picked up his saddle bags and got out some of his shoeing tools. Throwing a shoe into the fire to heat it up for ease of malability. He was an enormous man so he would be able to bend the horse shoe without the proper fire. The shoe would be weak but it would be better than the cracked one on the horse now. He got up from the fire and nodded towards Zebron still in his Drow form to indicate he was checking on the horse's, which were tied up near Brent's tent. He had shed his chain mail armor earlier in the day and his step was much lighter with out all of that bulk on his shoulders. He crossed over to over to Phillipe's horse and inspected it hoof. Sure enough the shoe had split and junk had gotten into the crack. Stupid fool, doesn't he know a horse can go lame over negligence like this! >Brent plunged the arrow into the skin of his right arm. 'Just a few more and >the process will be complete.' he consoled himself. Then, although he may or >may not be particularly useful to this group, at least they wouldn't have to >worry about him. Regardless of his value as an asset -- and he assured himself >that that value would be high if the opportunity provided itself -- he >DEFINITELY wasn't going to be a liability. He started to pry the shoe off when he heard a single low grunt coming from Brents tent. Mathew looked up an saw Zebron still looking in the other direction. Putting down his tools quietly, he snuck around the horses to Brent's tent. A lantern was on inside and a shadow of a figure with it's head slumped over a bit could be seen through the tent skin. Mathew stepped up to the tent and pulled the flap open. "Are you oka..." Mathew began when he noticed the cut drawn across the inside of Brents arm with an blooded arrow in his other hand with a bit of bluish pigment on the arrow tip. "What in the name of Tyr are you doing?!" Gathering his wits about him he remembered Zebron's lesson about jumping to conclusions and calmed himself waited for some kind of explaination for such odd behavior that resemble self mutilation. -- Joe Carl Jr. "It ain't what a man don't know that makes him a jcarl@jabba.ess.harris.com fool, but what he does know that ain't so." -- Josh Billings