Exustio Canem Inferus Caelum

OoC: Holding true to my statement about Latin words, the title is Latin. You don't get a present for guessing what it means, but if you know it don't hesitate to ruin the coolness of it... open RP.

BiC:

The movement of his hands was lost on the rest of his near corporeal body as they swung ever so slighly at his side in Evelynna's striding motion-- bleeding from nearly a dozen wounds over most of his body, Kichaa Mesoa sat near death on his mount... the hard leather saddle seemed to be designed particularly to cause him agony as his mount moved gently forward, as if sensing that her master was jarred by her every movement, weaving her sad way through the boulders and loose dirt of the Northern mountain. The beast's sadness reflected the position Kichaa found himself in: bleeding to death in an inhospitable northland devoid of anything that could even hint at the offer of aid, or gesture in welcome to himself and his forlorn mount. As it was, he sat numbly, feeling neither the pain nor the agony that his body could feel all to well, his mind as numb as his body and just as weak. The loss of blood was actually not so bad, it was just that his wounds seemed so large and glaringly obvious-- painful as well, to be sure-- that it was difficult to imagine that they were not killing him. In truth, the wounds themselves were barely bleeding, and he was near death for a completely different reason.

I suppose the reason would be an important, after all when a life hangs in the balance most people are at least vaguely curious as to what caused the situation. I'll tell you shall I? Well, it started fairly simply, in a manner quite predictable: Kichaa met some bad people, and got in a fight. Very simple, but often, simplicity doesn't regard a single man against thirteen as good odds. Needless to say, Kichaa got hurt. Several times in fact, mainly because he was cold, stiff, his armor was frozen in place by the sleet that had pomelled into it. Of course, the northmen that had attacked him were in the perfect clothing for the battle: fur. Thick fur, not in the least hindered by the cold or stiffened, they were able to dance circles around Kichaa, but he was better. They could dance, but he could sing-- or at least his blade could. They lay dead, but he was near that himself, and after thirty miles of slow travel, he was as I first described him. Forlorn would be a good word.

Not often did Kichaa feel forlorn, and less often did he feel numb actually, but that word could describe him perfectly. His thoughts ranged ever so slowly from things such as, I'm going to die, to less dramatic thoughts such as, I'm hungry. Neither thought mattered much in the scope of things, but they gave him the slight enough strength that would allow him to press onward. His wounds were beginning to crust over-- oh yes, it should probably be noted that he was in his near-catatonic state because of his own choice-- from the blood that he allowed to flow through them. It was difficult to maintain the state of control that such an ability require, especially on horseback, but Kichaa did it... he always managed to conjure a miracle.

Not this time though, this time Kichaa wouldn't be able to save his own life. It would take someting else for that to happen, and it was doubtful it would happen. He was doomed from the moment those men had spotted him... and the thought took him out of his saddle. Quite literally, he fell from his mount almost the instant the thought had flitted through his fragile conscience, and there he lay. His meditation was ended-- he would not get it back-- and as his eyes closed he detected the starry black shades of unconsciousness slip over him and dominate his senses. The cold would kill him. His wounds would kill him. His mind had the potential to accidentally kill him... he was doomed, as I said, from the moment those men had seen him.

Only a stranger could save him now, someone that had braved the wilds of the northland and come to his rescue, someone that had become the miracle conjured once again for him. That was too much to hope for, Kichaa was doomed, but his spirit clung to that hope as a man clings to dry ground during a flash flood-- it would not let it go for as long as Kichaa was alive... which would not be long.

OoC: Hello HoA I said I was going to join, so here I am... Joining... O.o Yah...
Anyway, I'm using Janeen, link in signature... I don't have a link for Kichaa...

BaC:"What am I doing traveling these mountains? On such a cold day?" Janeen said to herself. She had been traveling this desolate mountain for hours, nothing but a coat to help her travel. No mount, nor escort, just the frigid winds, and the snow-covored rocks. Though one would suppose those didn't help much either. The wind became too fierce for her to fly, and the snowstorm was even fiercer. Surely, anyone that had even the toughest muscular structure would die had he been wounded, and traveling the mountian long enough. Luckily, Janeen was in as good a condition as any, except, she didn't like the cold all too well. She'd prefer sitting right next to an open flame at this time.

Few hours had past while she scavenged the mountain, her face cold and stinging, though her body was well heated. Creatures also prowled the mountains, though not large enough to be a threat to the warrior. She only kept her eyes set on the path ahead. Not long after, a mount was in sight, it was standing there with it's head down, nudging a dead body to awaken... Janeen thought he was dead for sure, but that was before she had heard a cough. She ran to the body, lying there unconscious, wounds all over his body. Janeen tried picking him up, but he was too heavy for her to lift very far. She placed him straight onto the mount's body, using nearby tree branches to tie him on, luckily, they were able to bend profusely.

After placing him ontop of the mount, Janeen grabbed it's reigns, and walked it down the mountain, hopefully, they would be able to make it back in time so that the man could survive. Paying no heed to the path behind her, she just continued to walk the mount down the mountain path.

A few hours later, they had come across an elderly woman, she had a small hut and what looked like warm beds. She also had several wounded men and women lying in other beds. Janeen tied the mount to a tree, and ran inside. "Mam! Mam, could I use your hut for a place to stay?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I take wounded and help them out here..." she replied.

"That is what I thought, I have a wounded man here with me, he needs imediate medical attention," Janeen spoke again. She went out to grab the wounded man, and she brought the mount carrying him inside.

"I see, lay him on one of these beds. Here, since he looks heavy, bring the mount further in, just don't get him too far," the old woman said. Janeen brought the mount in a little further, and lay the man on one of the beds close to the fire. She then lay the mount down near the doorway, so that it would not die in the murderous winds.

OoC: Okay, that seemed pretty good to me... I don't know if you have much to work with, just tell me and I'll fix something.

OoC: Kichaa Sorry about that, I hadn't realized.

BiC:

Kichaa awoke slowly, blinking his eyes as he lay in on the cold ground... presumeably where he had fallen, though he couldn't move his head and therefore really couldn't be sure either. The fall hadn't hurt, just like the wounds didn't hurt, but he lay there numb with pain that he couldn't comprehend or feel... but the cold was getting to him. I must have pnuemonia, he thought suddenly, feeling a cough rise in his lungs and push its way out. The noise of it called his senses to alertness, but only for a brief moment before they subsided into the drowsy, painless state; besides, it was more than enough alertness to make him want to die... he felt the pain immediately, coursing through his body and wracking his mind-- as it had already overpowered his body-- so exruciatingly fast that his breath left him as soon as his cough did, and he slipped into unconciousness as his vision moved slightly. It's the wind, he tried to tell himself, slipping slowly into the blackness of unconciousness yet again, but then there were words... he couldn't make them out, and Evellynna was moving, No... I'm moving. He fell back into a world of semi-life, fell back into the darkness and near-death that he didn't even know existed.

A few hours later, probably three or so, Kichaa awoke again... this time he was warm. The pain was there again, but this time it didn't go away suddenly or flee from him as the numbness had allowed before, no this time it was constant, throbbing pain that enveloped his entire body. He knew immediately that he would live but still wondered why. Someone found me, he told himself mentally, trying to move his head to see anyone. There were several 'someone's to be seen, all of them lying down as Kichaa imagined he himself was... most of them coughing intermittantly or nursing a bleeding wound or two... what a sight Kichaa was in that place! Bleeding from at least a dozen wounds...Wait, where- his thought cut itself off as he looked down at himself, noticing for the first time that he was bandaged with scraps of... was that gauze?

His eyes darted up and skittered around inside his head as he examined the room carefully, drawing in exactly where he was. The tent-like room was warm, cozy, and had at least as many beds as could fit, crammed up against each other and pushed against the wall, allowing only slight walkspace for someone to come in and check on the numerous men and women inside the small wooden structure. It was wooden, at least it appeared to be, most likely built from the numerous pines that dominated this part of the world. It seemed to be some kind of hospital...

"Hey boy," coughing insued as Kichaa turned his head to see who had spoken to him, an elderly man laying on his stomach and coughing violently as he tried to speak. This endured for several seconds before he regained some measure of control and spoke again, "You got yourself in some big trou-" coughing, then more, "trouble. How did you even live this long?" The coughing continued as he turned away, obviously not wanting an answer, or at least not caring enough to wait for Kichaa to respond.

The young swordsman turned his gaze back to where it had been, directly ahead of him and facing the opposite wall, to see a woman... a particularly odd woman. His time in the mountains had left him bare to the weather, but he hadn't seen the like of strange sentient beings for some time because of it. This woman was that kind of creature. Human in Some appearanced, but definitely not all, she was adorned in some kind of battle dress... and were those wings?

"Who are you?" he asked, rudely enough for his face to heat as he asked again, "I'm sorry, but... who... are you?" He couldn't find a better way to ask it, unfortunately enough, and instead lapsed into a kind of embarrassed silence... he wasn't used to that kind of silence.

"I'm Janeen," she responded after a bit, and Kichaa noticed slighly that her eyes weren't as kind as her voice seemed to make out. She seemed to be... jaded, in some way. It hurt Kichaa a bit more to see it, but it wasn't really his place to ask if something was wrong with her, at least not at the time.

"Well... I'm Kichaa...," he said uncertainly, "I guess you saved my life then?"

"So, how did you manage to find this man?" the elderly woman asked. She was carefully stiching his wounds. "You don't seem much like a normal person that is usually around here."

"That's because I'm not. I'm from Argonia, on the continent Kiardana. I don't even think you've heard of it," she replied.

"I don't think I have heard of a Kiardana before. But I am glad you made it here in time to save this man's life. Any later and he would have died." the elderly woman replied. She then stood up, after putting on the bandages and gause. She then walked over to the boiling pot, and poured Janeen a bowl of soup. "Would you like some?"

"Sure, I could use a nice bowl of soup," she replied. The warrior then grabbed the bowl, and started to use a spoon to eat it. She didn't pay much attention to the elderly woman, she just kept her eyes on the man, and his mount. Though curious as to what species the mount was. She walked up to it, and heard a voice.

"Who are you?" the voice asked. Afterwards, a more, appropiate term of voice was heard.

"I'm Janeen," she replied.

He told her his. 'Kichaa', he then asked if she was the one who saved his life.

"Yes... Thanks to your Noble Steed, I was able to find your body in the mountains," she replied. Looking at what seemed to her, a 'handsome' face. Though to men, it would seem rather normal. "What is this creature's name? I don't think I've seen one of these before." She then started petting it, and it rubbed against her hand.

OoC: Sorry for taking so long.

BiC:

Kichaa stared at the woman for a moment as she rubbed Evelynna's head... in a strange way, but still the horse seemed to enjoy the attention-- her master hadn't been very attentive lately. Struggling to sit up, Kichaa suddenly felt the stitches pull at him and decided he would only scoot up a little bit... he didn't want to tear anything loose just so he could see better. He managed to get into a more comfortable and sight-encouraging position after a few seconds with his lower back propping his upper body up with the help of his make-shift pillow. Kichaa almost didn't remember that she had asked him a question as he looked around the room some more, and when he did his head whipped around suddenly. Luckily, Janeen wasn't looking to be alarmed, but Kichaa felt foolish for doing that nonetheless.

"Uh, she's a horse... her name's Evelynna," he replied, trying to sound polite, but making a bad job of it. He needed to work on his people skills... the mountains must have drained all his subtlety... or maybe it left with most of his blood. He almost smiled... almost. The old woman came back, this time empty-handed, and began to fuss over him.

"Oh... why did you have to sit up...," and, "now this won't do at all," were her words as she started rearranging the pillow and blankets, all the while staring at his wounds. After finishing her over-zealous behavior, she finally asked the question Kichaa had been waiting for, "How did you get those, youngster? No doubt you'll give me some horse crap about falling on a bed of nails or whatever..."

Kichaa did smile this time, wondering why old people were always so cranky for no apparent reason, but still tried to help you all the time. It didn't make much sense, but the young swordsman was– at least this time– very grateful that they did. He would rather have a cranky old nursemaid than a six foot deep hole to lay his boots down... he probably wouldn't even get to keep those if he was killed. He needed to stop dwelling on it, I'm getting morbid. Must be the near-death experience.

OoC: Crap... Since you said mount I wasn't figuring it was actually a horse... I'm quite sure Janeen has seen one before... -.- How to fix that.

BiC: Janeen eyed the creature, thinking she had seen it before. Of course, it was strange that she had to look so closely before finally figuring that it was what the Argonians called, a "lioda" in their language. She had finally noticed, under it's frost-bitten fur, that it was one. She just looked at Kichaa and scratched the back of her head. Noticing that the old woman was tending to his wounds again.

She just turned away and walked outside. Noticing steam coming from behind a nearby snow bank. She walked up to investigate, she noticed a hot spring. She needed a nice time for relaxation. Luckily, it looked like there was something to change behind. And clean towels on the rack. But, before she decided to change and get in, she walked into the medical hut and asked the old lady. "With all do respect, I would appreciate some time to relax. May I bathe in the hot spring?"

"Fine by me," the old lady replied. "Just make sure you have a weapon with you. I wouldn't want you to get hurt, by the various yeti."

"Very well..." Janeen replied. She had her sword with her, so she was pretty sure she would be okay, besides. What could a yeti do?

She went behind the large wooden board, and stripped down, walking out with a towel on. She slowly stepped into the hot spring. With the towel around her slender figure. She lay up against the side. "Ahh... It feels good to relax like this every now and then... Perhaps I could stay here for a while?" she sunk in deeper. Her face looked rather relaxed. She hadn't relaxed like this in a long time.

Meanwhile, inside the hut. The old woman was tending to the man's wounds. "Perhaps you wouldn't have gotten these, had you been more careful..." she said. She was tightening a bandage over one of the worse wounds.

OoC: I think I handled the horse thing. You're next!

Kichaa winced as the woman pulled the bandage tighted, responding bitterly, "I know I wouldn't have got them if your mountains weren't so damn dangerous. Don't you have any kind of law around here? I've never been ambushed in my life..."

His voice trailed off suddenly as the woman began glaring at him and shaking her head, practically telling him that he needed to shut up. He felt a pang of regret as he realized what he'd been saying, Here I am, getting tended to by an absolute stranger and I act like an ungratefull little rat. He wanted to apologize, and even opened his mouth to do so, but he just couldn't force it out for some reason, and lapsed into sullen, ashamed silence while she finished her tightening. Stretching his sore limbs after she'd gone, Kichaa grimaced with the pain it caused to shoot through him and stopped immediately. He wanted to move, but there was nothing he could do about that for the time being, and instead let himself fade off into a light slumber.

---Three Hours Later---

Mumbling and turning, Kichaa woke with a start, his eyes snapping open to stare out into the now-dark room. He wasn't in pain. Looking down, he saw that the blood on his bandages had dried, meaning that his wounds had scabbed over while he slept. Lurching to the side, the young swordsman managed to place his feet onto the ground beside his bed and sit up straight. He was a quick healer, that was for sure, but he knew that it was more than just a bit because Janeen had found him and brought him here. Pushing up, Kichaa managed to stand free of his short bed-- though he was bent at the waist still-- and take a weak step... then another. He found his way to the center of the small hut and grasped onto the ceiling with his right hand to take a breather. He wasn't up to taking any more steps just yet, and he seriously doubted the he would be able to get back to his bed without reopening his wounds, so he simply stood there for a moment to regain some strength.

"Well..." he mumbled, glancing back at the bed, "I shouldn't have done that..."

((Sorry for the shortness, I have to go help a neighbor.))

After a good half an hour of relaxing, Janeen stepped out of the hot spring, only to meet the cold, mountain air. Why did I even get in there in the first place, knowing it would be so cold? She wondered. She went behind the large board and dried off. Afterwards, she put her clothes back on and walked out from behind the board. A small arctic fox was scurrying around for food. Janeen knelt down and put her hand out to pet it... "Well? Are you hungry little guy?" she asked. Though figuring it wouldn't possibly be able to respond.

After it rubbed against her hand, she picked it up and took it inside. "Miss? Miss? Do you have any meat?" She asked. Luckily, the old lady wasn't tending to anyone's wounds. Kichaa had fallen asleep again.

"What do you wannt meat for?" The old lady asked grumpily.

"I was only asking," Janeen replied.

"I know... Why do you have a fox in your arms?" The old woman asked again.

"It's hungry, so I figured I'd grab it something to eat. If you don't have anything that you would like to share with the animals, I'll just go and find something that has died from the harsh cold," Janeen replied. She then walked out of the hut, holding the fox to her chest.

"Don't wander to far!" The old lady yelled.

An hour later, Janeen found herself carrying back a mountain lion, it had died from the cold, the fox was running behind her. As if though it had gained a liking to her. She got to the hut, and plopped it out front. "Do you have any way to cook this thing? I think it's about time that you rested, I'll make dinner," Janeen said to the old lady.

"Why? You certainly are putting yourself to good use. Sure, I have something. Go out back, there's a barbeque pit just ready to cook some old meat," the old lady replied.

Janeen went out back and started to cook. After about a half-hour of cooking, she brought the food in, and set it down by the fire. So that anyone that woke up could eat it.

Not much later, Kichaa had gotten up and gone to the middle of the room. The old lady had already gone to bed, and Janeen was lying on the floor with a blanket over her. Her body peacefully moving as it would normally move during sleep.

Kichaa looked down on his rescuer, her body moving ever so slightly beneath the blanket as he stood there. He didn't wish to disturb her at all, and wondered if he would wake her up if he tried to get back to his bed... and that was one of his two options. His other option, of course, was to simply tumble out the door and sleep it off outside, he'd done it before and it had worked just fine. Sleeping outside was somehow more relaxing, knowing that if you don't sleep you'll probably just freeze to death... so Kichaa went outside. His faltering steps were pretty loud, though no where near as disturbing as they could have been, and he mentally cringed at each footfall... he was being too loud, probably doing just what he'd wanted to avoid. There was nothing to do about it anymore, so he kept going. Luckily his bed was somewhat near to the door, so he was already about halfway outside, where he could see flurries and snow drifts begin to accumulate. The sleep outside option had just become a memory.

His head slowly moved to survey the outdoors, then tipped back... a bright aurora had leapt into the sky, but that was normal... there was something else to the east. The entire sky seemed to be glowing an orange color, like the color the sky tends to glow when a massive forest fire is in the works below that section of the sky. As he watched, perplexed and captivated by the strange, almost ethereal sight, a new anomaly began to occur, working it's way deep into the night sky, penetrating the barrier of fire, and ascending rapidly... from miles away it was beautiful, a pillar of fire lighting up the heavens, but Kichaa could only imagine what could cause the site. Something was going wrong there, something terribly destructive had happened... and he had no idea what it could be.

Unbelievably, Kichaa almost felt stronger for feeling the sight, no matter how terrifying it was, and he made the mistake of trying to walk towards it, without the small hut to lean on. He fell face-down onto the ground, feeling the hard ground bruise him as he hit its frozen surface. It hurt... but for some reason not as much as it should have. Kichaa's mind had somehow blocked out the pain from the wounds. That was a good thing at least... but that sky would make him unable to sleep, this he knew, for days if he did not go and investigate. It was something... important to him, if only to see if he was still the man he was when he left the civilized world. He had to see this site first hand... or at least try.

Janeen heard the multiple footsteps of the wounded man, she wasn't really sleeping at the time anyway... She had woken up when he went to the center of the hut in the first place. She then heard the thud of him slamming against the floor. It was only a few minutes afterwards that she got out of the bed and walked over behind him. "You're going to want help," she said. She put her hand out for him to grab hold of. She had ignored the phenominon at the moment. Though she knew it was there, helping him was first priority right now.