Tavern Brawls S06WK06

The alchemist!” thought Fletcher.  “What was she doing?”

The ranger had gathered Cantrip and Selena back into Nudeltulpe’s room and had the man repeat to them what he had told Fletch.  Realization had dawned on them almost as quickly and together they had practically teleported out of the room.  Security at the tavern was forgotten in the moment, desperate as they were to get back to the mill and confront Mary Jane.

As it was still mid-day, many of the townspeople as well as visitors in town for the Brawl were milling about the streets before heading to The Two Brothers.  The trio of investigators soon found themselves surrounded by a sizable crowd.  Rather than get stuck maneuvering through the masses, Fletch gestured towards a nearby side avenue around a nearby building.

The group of three had just reached the side of the building when a flash of green light seemed to come from everywhere around them.  All three investigators involuntarily shut and covered their eyes.  They twisted their heads around violently, trying to avoid the light which seemed to penetrate into their heads regardless of which way they looked or how much cover they gave themselves.  Through the blinding haze, they heard screams and crashes from nearby, indicating that they were not the only ones affected.  After a number of seconds that seemed to stretch into days, their systems could no longer cope and they fell to the ground, welcoming the darkness which had come to claim them.

—-

“No, no, let me help.  I do this kind of thing all the time.  I’ll yank on-which rope again?”

Fletcher’s head seemed to be splitting in two as he heard the strange voice of a nearby man over the cacophony of moans, screaming, and occasional directives of people obviously tending to the many wounded townsfolk around him.  He slowly opened his eyes to take in the scene around him.  Dozens, maybe more, lay scattered in the street.  Wagons had been tossed by their horses and stands from the nearby market had been knocked to the ground.  Many people lay trapped under barrels or worse.

Gathering his senses, he found the source of the voice he had heard.  A man had rigged up a pulley system to a nearby tree to pull a capsized wagon off of someone on the street.  Selena was standing next to the man and arguing with him frantically on how best to do it quickly.

“Why are you asking me which rope?  This is YOUR setup!  Now, figure it out and hurry!  She’s hurt!”  Selena appeared frantic.

Fletch looked down again at the victim under the wagon and realized it was Cantrip.  The fogginess in his brain immediately lifted and he scampered to his feet.  Rushing over, he grabbed Selena’s sleeve and indicated he wanted to help.  The man working on the rigging saw him and bade him to help pull on the correct rope.  Together, the two men put all of their weight into the rigging lifting the wagon precariously off of the young mage.  Selena grabbed Cantrip’s arms and pulled her free of the wagon.

As Fletcher and his partner on the rope brought the wagon safely back to the ground, Selena began to tend to Cantrip.  Without looking up, she grabbed a concoction hanging from the side of a cleric tending to another nearby victim and, ripping a strip of cloth from her cloak, began to apply the salve to the various wounds of her friend.  She addressed most of the easily visible wounds, then lightly touched Cantrip’s midsection.  Though unconscious, the woman began to involuntarily moan and writhe on the ground.  Gingerly, Selena cut a slit in the side of Cantrip’s robes, then gasped.  From just below her ribs down to her hips on her left side was a mark akin to someone spilling a dark purple dye on her.  Right along the side was a deep cut.

Fletcher had seen marks like this before.  He knew that a deep bruise like that meant she was likely bleeding on the inside as well as from the gash.  There was nothing he or Selena could do.  He looked around frantically, but the clerics which had been right here only moments earlier had seemingly vanished.

Knowing they must be nearby, he took two steps towards the crowd when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  The man who had helped him with the wagon removed his hand from Fletcher and knelt down next to Cantrip.  Reaching into his satchel, he removed 2 small devices.  With the first, he turned a small knob and hit a switch, which initiated a spark and a pointed flame shot out of a nozzle.  He took this flame and cauterized the wound, asking Selena to grab thread and needle from this bag to sow the skin together.  Next, he reached for his second device, which emitted a strange buzzing sound as he held it over the large bruise.  After a moment, both the device and Cantrip gave off a soft blue glow.  As the man attended to her, Fletcher noticed Cantrip relax from tension he did not realize she had and start to breathe normally.

As Selena continued to stitch Cantrip’s wound closed, the man gathered his tools back into his bag.  Standing up, he reached out his hand to Fletcher, who ignored it and embraced the man in the biggest hug he could ever remember giving.  After a long moment, he finally released the man, who took in air again greedily.  “Well,” the man gasped, “I’m glad I could help.  Good thing I had that regenerator in my bag today!  I should go see if I can help anyone else.  Take care of your friend now!”

The man waved goodbye as he walked away and around the closest building out of sight.  Selena, still finishing her work but realizing he had left, shouted, “Thank you, Mr.-?!”

The man’s strange voice came from further out down the unseen road.  “It’s Murchadha.  Michael Merchadha.  But you can call me Mike!”