Chapter 3
Dawn rose. The creatures and monsters of the desert were starting to rise. The three headed Hydras; fearsome and terrible monsters with their fire, The heavily armoured Drakes and the Scarabs that ambush the unsuspecting from beneath the sand.
The ranger, shifting a large, brown rock that covered the entrance; entered then with fresh water and other supplies. The injured woman, feverish and pale from sickness woke as he entered. The ranger handed her a cup of fresh water and the woman drank it readily, brushing her long, dark, black hair out of her face and with the rough voice of those who come close to death she said, “you shot me.”
The ranger did not reply. He laid down the supplies and starting sorting them, a long silence passed then she spoke again, “who are you?” Taking heavy breaths and clearly delirious from fever. The ranger walked over to her and started to inspect her wound and check her temperature and pulse. He replied, “from your armour, you’re clearly a monk; trained in healing, from some wealthy Canthan family no less. I trusted you would have awoken and healed yourself by now.”
But the monk was slipping in and out of consciousness. The ranger grabbed a flask of water and tipped some on her face, startled she said, “what are you doing?!” The ranger replied, “if you do not heal yourself, then you will die, but if that’s what you want then by all means go back to sleep; you’ll make some vulture quite happy.”
The monk slowly sat up, loosely holding one hand on her simple yet elegant metal staff; rife with engravings in various languages. With her other hand started to cast the healing prayers she knew. As weak as she was she had managed to quickly heal the worst of her injury and sickness. The monk asked again, “who are you?”
The ranger slowly took off his mask and replied, “I have little use for a name, but the Forgotten who I sometimes trade with and am on good terms with call me Vilrif. And by the way, never get in my line of sight or any other ranger’s line of sight for that matter, such idiocy nearly killed us both.”
Shocked and infuriated; the young Canthan monk replied, “What? You shoot me then call me an idiot?! you have the manners and mind of a Charr!”
“And you” the ranger replied, “have the all the survival instinct of a Canthan town dwelling child; never far from her parent’s side and well distanced from danger. Clearly you’re new to these parts, so tell me; just what are you doing here alone and what in Dwayna’s or Melandru’s or any of the other humbling god’s names were you thinking?”
The monk took a breath and softened her voice, “I did not choose to find myself alone in the middle of this hell, I was with” A pause took her voice, her face saddened and shocked; realising some reality said, “a party of people, oh no, we were attacked by three drakes; one came towards me and I just started to run and didn’t stop. Oh no, I abandoned them, they have to be alive still, they can’t be dead!”.
She got up and moved towards the opening, still not fully recovered, “Is the taste of death really so good?” asked Vilrif, in a soft, deep voice. He then sighed, got to his feet and spoke, “come, I’ll help you find your party, whatever their fates were, you’ve peaked my curiosity. Speaking of curiosity, what, may I ask is your name?”
Surprised at Vilrif’s offer the monk replied, “My name is Tendra”
