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"Korporal Obel! Get your green behind out of bed!"

"Yes Sergeant Zozo." Obel was late for his runner duty again. He wiped his groggy eyes as he rolled out of bed. His sergeant was a stout, ruddy dwarf.

The sergeant continued to yell and cuss out the goblin until he got dressed and ran out to his post. He was to be on staff duty. It meant he would be running between places like the aid station or other units handling odds and ends.

He made his way past other soldiers, moving this way and that. Each hurrying to different places. A group of six soldiers ran by in formation, doing their morning exercise.

When Obel made it to the little hut that he would be posted at, he was immediately sent away. His first task was to bring breakfast to the wounded at the aid station. He ran off to his first assignment.

The night was not a long one for Aearion. He quickly got popular within the bar, made some good coin and got very, very drunk. The poor bard woke up, his eyes thick like a fish's and his head throbbing like crazy, at the very table he and Obel sat at."Urgh..." The bard grumbled as he staggered outside, the sunlight hurting his eyes."I'm never drinking again..." The Merman promised himself, knowing that by tonight it would be broken.

What's a freeloading bard to do during the time when everyone works? Visit the market, of course. Here the bard walked, looking around with interest at what was being sold today.

The battalion's dining hall was a short walk away from their aid station. Obel had to bring plates of food to each patient, carrying two at a time. He had completed four trips so far and was in the process of delivering the last morning meal. This one was going to someone who was brought in just yesterday.

The little goblin's head peered around the corner of the door frame, glancing into the wounded man's room. It was quite a sight, his bright copper hair shined in the morning sun. Luminous orange orbs made eye contact with the wounded man.

He walked up to the wounded man and offered him a plate. "Breakfast, good sir. Eggs, sausage and potatoes."

It was a little later than it could have been, but it was still fairly early in the morning.

"May you heal quickly and find what you are looking for." This was a typical saying among soldiers in this area. It was just a way to send good wishes.

Jerard had been resting in his bed calmly, hands at his sides and his sheets pulled up to his chest, partly to keep him warm and partly to obscure the wounded area from any visitors that came by. Though it was only one day since he had received the wound it seemed to be healing well, be that from the Paladins own fortitude or through some divine help, it would be difficult to say.

When Obel had peaked his head in through the door Jerard became visibly alert. His own blue eyes locking on to the goblins orange ones, his eyes only flicking from the goblins eyes to the plate he was carrying before he smiled.

"Breakfast eh? How kind of you. Sending food to a complete stranger. Send the one who prepared this meal my thanks, and thanks to you as well for bringing it to me. What is your name?"

Jerard merely nodded his head and grinned a little bit, the saying was a good one, especially among military and fighting men.

"Don't thank me, thank the Hallean Militia. You're in my unit's aid station. We run meals to the sick and wounded twice a day."

The goblin stood up straight at just under five feet tall. His expressions seemed curious, but reserved. The truth is that death, injury and sickness were his biggest fears. Visiting the hospital reminded him of his own mortality, just a little bit.

In a way, it was good for him to confront it and see it could be just another part of life. This man seemed to be in good spirits.

"I'm Obel... Korporal. I'm on duty today so I'll be back at dinner time. Is there anything else you need or any message you want me to pass on?"

The goblin would be available to help out the aid station's staff and patients as well.

Lilly stood and stretched, having been bent over for hours clipping flowers. Her basket was full, and it was time for her first trip to market, about 9:30 am. The basket switched every so often from her left hip to the right, and occasionally back again. the walk was long, but Bea proved as inquisitive as always.

Bea had not forgotten about the encounter Lilly mentioned the day before, begging and pleading for answers. Lilly sat on the stool next to Bea and recounted everything, unable to help the smile that came across her face as she remembered talking to Jerard, such a brave and strong man who faced a Minotaur and came out alive. "He is brave man!" Bea nodded, her face filled with wonder. "When you go see him again? He want to see you again?!"

Lilly nodded, "I believe he does. I'm going to see see him after I make another trip to you. But in order to do that I should get going." Lilly and Bea said their goodbyes, and on her way back to work Lilly could not help but pause at the eastern gate, yesterday fresh in her mind. Today so far seemed like a good day, finding herself anxious to see him again.

"Credit where credit is due my friend. You still brought me the meal. I'm glad to have wound up here, instead of some other towns I've visited where they would sooner rob a dying man then attempt to heal them."

Jerard at full height was six feet, two inches tall. However while laid out on the bed he was still the same size, he did appear to be slightly smaller. Death never truly bothered the paladin. To him, every dog has its day. It is only a matter of when. Personally he would prefer to live to see his grandchildren grow up, but for that he would need to settle down and find someone first.

"Pleasure to meet you Korporal. I am Jerard, but my friends just call me Jer most times. And I do not need anything else, but if it's no trouble please send message to the caravans that the roads to the east should be safer now."

Awaking in the morning hours, Constanza pulls the sheets to the side, forming a straight diagonal across the bed. She walks into the bathroom, her hands collecting the small, round mirror upon a shelf. Holding it, she turns her head to each side. Grasping her nearby brush, she spends no more than twenty minutes sweeping her locks to curl upwards. Placing the brush back upon the shelf, with the mirror, she walks back into the bedroom. Opening her closet, she grabs one of the finely ironed toll-guard-outfits.

Near the infirmary, a noise of yelling men grew louder, the man in front of quite a few stretchers waving his arm about, “Move it! Clear the road! Sick coming through, move!” Each stretcher held men trying to claw at their throat despite those to their sides restraining them, their veins slowly turning a blackish color, their skin appearing shriveled around their exposed chests. Out of their nose and in-between their clenched teeth, blood seeped through, drying in the morning air.

The man in front shoves the door open, stepping to the side and motioning for those behind him to move inside with a rotating arm, “Here! Line them up!” Pointing towards the far wall, the soldier spots the goblin and clicks his boots together, saluting him, “Korporal! There’s been an attack.” Those with cloths covering their mouths carried the men inside, lining them in neat rows.

Constanza opened her toll-house’s door and a letter falls upon her feet from the door’s crack. She bends and grasps it, turning it to look upon the front and back. Standing, she glances around the house but no one was present. She places the letter into her pocket and shoulders her sign-trident. Closing and locking the door behind her, she moves to take her position, observing the early-morning fog far to the East.

The market didn't offer Aearion much in the way of inspiration. Despite how nice the town was to walk through and see its populace, it wasn't doing much for him creatively. The Merman grew frustrated with his writer's block. He yearned for some inspiration and decided being inside of the town wasn't going to do him any good. He bought himself a small tart to eat on the road and set for the east gate. Perhaps the fields beyond would clear his mind of this fog.

However, word was given about an attack as soon as the Bard got there. His eyes widened. An attack? He decided to casually stick around. Perhaps he could catch some more about this news.

Her good mood she tried holding through the day was slowly fading, Lilly's boss out in the field thoroughly chewing her out over various things that were not entirely her fault. "Why are you so late? You were suppose to be back a half hour ago!" He started in as she walked up, her soft smile now gone.

"I came back as soon as I dropped off the delivery to Bea.." She explained, knowing she had sat down with Bea for a few minutes but nothing substantial.

"You lie! Get to work, you lazy wench!" Her boss yelled, reaching out and grabbing her arm, shoving her off towards the field. She resisted the strong urge she felt to flip him on his rear, her fighting instincts fighting to take control. Lilly kept her balance as she was moved, and kept her tongue as she walked away. He was a sleaze, her boss, 5'11" of pure demon named Julic. His skin was a brownish green, eyes as red as Lilly's hair and he had a tail that loved to try and lift the edges of her dress. If the pay wasn't one of the better ones in town, Lilly would have quit long ago, not needing to deal with his sexist and sexual advances.

A few soldiers stood around the outside of the infirmary. One held his arms wide, his voice able to be heard from the corners of the street, "Now I'm going to have to ask you to all keep your distance. Just go about your business, there is nothing to see here!" A crowd of onlookers and the one bucket-carrier that sanitized the streets were standing outside the infirm. One man pushed through and pointed his finger at the guard's chest, "My daughter is inside there with the flu. What if those in there now are contagious, huh? What happens then?" Several other voices became louder and concerned.

Jerard had just been eating the breakfast given to him by Korporal Obel when the men bearing stretchers had entered the infirmary, a worried crease appearing over his brow. Without moving his lower body very much he was able to set the plate with the half-eaten breakfast down on one of the two side-tables beside his bed, and did his best to look up so he could see out into the hallway

"Excuse me? What's going on out there? Could somebody tell me what is going on? I'm a Paladin, perhaps I coul- Nevermind..." He trailed off. Wounded as he was it was unlikely that he would be able to help in any manner at all, and the only reason why he had asked was because he was halfway through a bite while the men outside were shouting, and had thus only heard small parts of it in between chews.

Aearion, despite being pushed back by the guards, persisted."Wait! Hey, don't push me. I can help!" He shouted as he worked his way past the guards.

"Listen to me! I'm a Bard. I know healing magic! I can help, trust me!" He pleaded with the guards. For once he could be useful!

The guards in front of the door start to bar civilians from entering, the lead holding his hands upwards, "For your safety, please remain outside of the infirmary. We will inform you of your loved ones when we are finished here! Please, return to your homes!" The lead guard catches sight of the bard, giving a quick glance between the bard and the door. Grabbing his arm, he pulls him through the crowd and gestures towards the door, "See to it, sir. We need this crowd to have some hope." The soldier turns back towards the crowd, some raising their voices, "I'm a bard too! My brother is in there!"

It was soon after Obel left the wounded Paladin and was on the way down the street when he first got held up by the crowd. Obel made his way to the line of soldiers and stood at the end. Things looked somewhat tense.

The sergeant at the end of the line barked out commands to his men, mainly just telling them to hold the line. He proably didn't even notice the little Goblin had joined his formation.

At this point, Obel wasn't sure what the commotion was about. People wanted to get inside, but there was such limited space. It was also not the most sanitary thing, allowing everyone to wander in and out of the infirmary.

Gods, what has Aearion gotten himself into this time? He suddenly had a lot of pressure on hom regarding these diseased people. His magic was limited, he had doubts that even if he could heal them they'd all get better. But now was not the time for worst case scenarios. Before entering the building he turned to the crowd.

"People, people! My dear friends, please calm yourselves!" He shouted into the mob."You know me, I've played for you! I promise you that I shall do whatever is in my power to help! You will see your relatives again, I promise."

Afterwards he took a deep breath abd walked inside."So tell me, what are we dealing with here?"

It seemed like a miracle, getting her work done today before noon even occurred, revealing just how much she wanted to leave. The baskets she had were full, and although she normally only takes one, Julic struck again, "If your taking off take the cart load! We've got fruit for market as well, not just our flowers! So why don't you be useful for once!" Lilly bit her tongue, literally, inside her mouth as to not snap at him; simply nodding and loading her baskets onto the small pull cart that could weave through to the market. She knew not how she would manage pulling the cart, normally seeing the large worker man do it or two smaller men, but complaining was not an option as she grabbed the front bar.

It took her a few moments to steady the cart, balancing it on its two wheels just right to have the pull/push bar at a decent height for her to use, all while Julic complained and asked why she was still there. The road to the town was a slightly uphill one, screwing her over just a bit on maintaining a good pace, while her mind softly begged for Jerard to be there to help. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, amazed at the girlishness of her own thoughts when she was raised to be a stealthy warrior by her father. She did let herself wonder how he was though; had he gotten enough sleep, or had breakfast/lunch today?

Constanza settles into her booth, awaiting others to approach the gate. Seeing none, she slowly eyes the letter. It was sealed with an unknown marking, but the name that it was addressed to -was- hers. Looking out of her booth towards the road, she settles again and opens it. She reads,


Meanwhile, in the infirmary, the soldier escorting the bard to the side points to others turning upon their sides, their mouths leaking the strange, black substance. One coughs it up as well as his blood, his form almost shriveled. The soldier shakes his head, "I don't know what this is. But any help is welcome."

The sergeant takes a step outside the infirmary, pushing his way past his men and the civilians, "Move it! Clear the way!" Spotting the goblin, as he shoves a concerned peasant aside, "You, Korporal. You're in charge. Handle this situation." He marches off, boots clunking off the cobble-stoned street.

Jerard had still not received any answer from the men outside, and he was beginning to get frustrated. If he knew what was going on he may have been able to help heal those who were sick, if the Light was feeling favorable that day. It ususaly would grant him the power to heal the sick or dying, especially if they were followers of the Light or whatever had caused the wound was demonic in nature.

Jerard attempted to sit up then, letting out a little grunt of pain as the wound in his abdominal region was moved.He managed to get himself up into a sitting position, trying to see exactly what was going on out in the hall there. Being curious and seeking to help the injured drove him to find out what was happening to those folk. Knowing it would take days if not weeks for the wound to heal properly, he decided to call upon the Light for aid.

The Paladin reached his right hand down to his stomach, hovering just over his wound. Mouthing a silent prayer a light golden glow began to emanate from his hand, radiating over the stitched wound. His flesh soon seemed to grow back together, the stitching seeming to disappear without a trace.

With his wound now healed, Jerard carefully removed the bloody bandages that still clung to his midsection, and got off of the bed. He moved toward the corner where his clothing, armor and other equipment were.

(Is this still going?)