Egla and Reav
We walked for almost a whole day before we came to a small village. As we approached the place, Zora told me that we'd be keeping an eye out for anyone we could add to our group.
We made our way through town, getting the layout in our minds. We found a baker and picked up some stale bread for a few copper pennies. A soup bone - from the butcher - cost a few more pennies. We finished out scouting and supply-gathering and left town. We found a small copse of trees with a crude shelter inside. I collected some water and we started the broth.
Once darkness had fallen, we banked the fire, covered the pot, and walked back into town. We made a quick loop through the streets of the poorer sections. We found a young girl, crying, lying under a thin blanket on the stoop of a house. She looked to be close to adulthood - not that I was any judge of goblin women's ages.
She eyed us cautiously as we approached. Zora crept over, with her finger held to her lips and asked her to come out to the middle of the street - away from the door - to talk. She looked hesitant but finally came. She stood well away from me and held her blanket as if it was a talisman against evil spirits.
"Why are you sleeping out here?" Zora asked.
"My mother's new husband won't let me sleep in the house."
"If you could have anything you wanted, what would you pick?"
"A knife," she said, seething.
The girl's ears were larger than Zora's - and stood out more. Her hair was straighter, much lighter (but still green), and shorter - bobbed off just below her chin. Her green eyes looked dull and haggard. She wore a thin shift that had once been white. It didn't look warm - and neither did her blanket. Her feet were bare.
"I wouldn't advise revenge," Zora told her. "It's a miserable life. What would you do - just for yourself? Does your mother want you?"
"No."
"Would you like to leave here?"
"Where would I go?" she asked.
"We're on a quest," Zora told her. "We're going to rescue some friends of mine. I escaped but I want them to be free too."
"What would I have to do? Why is the elf with you?"
"He's my slave. He's a healer", she told the girl. "You don't have to do much. Forage for food, fetch water - whatever we need to survive. Nothing more."
"You own him?"
"Yes."
"Where are his chains?"
"He doesn't need them. He has bound himself to me."
At that, she looked hard at Zora.
"You can stay here, if you want," my queen told her. "I'm offering you a different choice. We will not be coming back this way. If you want to come with us, this is your only chance to decide."
"I'll go. Do you have food?"
"Bread and broth - at our camp outside of town."
"I'm hungry," the girl said.
"Is there anybody else here that should come with us?"
The young woman started to shake her head but then froze, her eyes fixed straight ahead. She darted off, down the street and around a couple corners. She brought us to an alley.
In the back corner, there was a board propped against the wall with some rags under it. She lifted off the board to reveal a small boy resting, fitfully, beneath. He was shivering. If he were human, I would have said he was six or seven years old. He might have been a little older but he was scrawny and underfed - so it was hard to tell.
I knelt beside him. He was severely malnourished and his leg had been broken and then had healed incorrectly.
"He's crippled, my queen," I said. "I'll need to break the leg to fix it. He'll need to get his strength up first or he'll likely die of shock when I do it. He needs food and water until he's well enough for me to help him."
"You can heal him?" the girl asked.
"Yes."
"His name is Reav," she told Zora. "He begs for scraps. His mother died in a fire. She threw him from the window so he would live. That's how he got hurt. No one wants him."
"He can go with us," I told the girl. "There's no way I could leave him here. Let's get him back to camp."
I scooped him up and started pushing some strength and warmth into his body. I also killed all of the fleas and lice that covered his body and his clothes. I left his blanket of rags where it lay. The girl didn't question that decision at all.
At the camp, Zora found a blanket. I wrapped him in it, sat down, and held him on my lap. She retrieved the tin cup, filled it with broth, and gave it to me. I brought it to the boy's lips and tilted a little into his mouth. As soon as he got the taste of it, he started coming awake enough to take small sips. Within a few minutes, I was giving him bits of bread that the girl was tearing off for me. After each bite, I'd give him a little more broth. He didn't eat that much before he fell asleep in my arms.
"Where do I sleep?" the girl asked.
"You and Zora can have the shelter," I told her. "I'll hold him and keep him warm."
"I'll relieve you in a few hours," Zora said.
"I'll be fine, my queen," I said, seeing the girl looking nervous.
Zora glanced at the girl and then nodded.
I got up a couple times to add wood to the campfire and then finally dozed off as the morning sky started to lighten.
"How much sleep did you get?" Zora asked me.
"Enough, my queen," I said.
She looked at the girl and asked, "Will anyone come looking for you?"
"Probably not," she admitted.
"Stay here with Zack and Reav. I'll run to the butcher's and get some meat so we can have a hearty stew. I think it would be better to remain here another night."
The girl looked a little nervous but nodded.
"Do you have any injuries?" Zora asked her.
She showed us a cut on the inside of her arm that looked a little infected.
"Can I heal that for you?" I asked her.
She shrugged.
"I'll need to touch your arm. It looks like it is sore. Does it hurt when you touch it?"
She nodded.
"It's infected. I can make it better."
"What's your name?" Zora asked her.
"Egla," she said quietly.
"Egla, he won't hurt you. Let him put his hand on your arm. You'll feel better right away. It won't hurt. It might tingle for a little bit while he's fixing it."
The girl finally stepped over and held out her arm to me.
I laid my palm on the injury and pushed healing into it. As the wound healed, her body shoved the puss out.
