Writing Blog: Fragment continued

writingblogday9and10.png Yup, I missed a day again, but don’t fear, the writing continues. Where did we leave Rick? Right! Sylas was taking him somewhere. Let’s see where my mind takes this little story, shall we?

The noise in the tavern was deafening that night, but Rick slammed back another cold one as he smiled at his friends.
He took a drag on his cigarette, “So, Jack, what grand adventure do you have for us this weekend?”
A young man pointed to himself, looking around the room. Rick laughed, “Don’t play innocent. You always come with good ideas for us. Whatcha got?”
Jack’s shadow got longer as he leaned across the table, “Survival.”
The other two friends at the table leaned in as Rick raised an eyebrow, “Survival?”
Jack nodded, “The Ebon mountains, that’s the challenge. One pack with minimal provisions, the clothes on our backs and our wits.”
The man to Jack’s right leaned back with hands in the air, “That range has been known to kill people, Jack. I don’t know about this.”

When Rick opened his eyes again, he could see the ceiling of a small house. His hand flew up to his forehead and was met by a larger hand, “That’s there for your concussion. I suggest you leave it there.”
“Right, what’s that smell?”
“Dinner. You slept for 24 hours.”
Rick shot up in the cot and winced. Shaking his head, Sylas went over to Rick, “You need to not move quickly. It’s not good for your concussion or ribs. I’ve called a healer. He should be here shortly.”
Sylas laid him back down and replaced the compress, “Pardon for saying, but you don’t look like the adventurous type.”
“I live in Keelie.”
“Uh, huh, and what were you doing on one the most dangerous mountain ranges by yourself?”
“I wasn’t by myself. I had three friends with me.”
“Do you know where they are at now?”
“We got separated. We heard something big coming towards us and decided to split up.”
“That was foolish. You never go alone on that mountain.”
Rick tilted his head to get a better look at Sylas, “You were by yourself.”
“I’m not a city boy. I’m a druid and suited to this climate.”
“Ah, got it. What do you think was after us?”
Sylas shrugged, “Anything from a bear to a pack of wolves to trolls. It’s hard to tell no knowing where exactly you were at. You have a map?”
Rick shook his head.
“Hey, we were out there trying to see-”
“See, what?” Sylas snapped, “To see how long you would survive in a place you’ve never been to without a map, a guide, or any knowledge of the mountain range?”
Rick didn’t respond, choosing instead to close his eyes and cross his arms on his chest.
Sylas grunted, “That’s what I thought. Stupid. Many kids like you come from cities to brave the mountain, and very few of you ever make it a day. You have no skills to survive out here.”
Sylas walked back to the stove and stirred the pot. There was a knock on the door.
Sylas opened it, “Sheik.”
“Sylas, where is the- oh I see him, never mind.”
“That’s the fool over there.”
Rick turned his head to see something he couldn’t put to words. The man looked  like a dwarf but had the height of a gnome. Sheik sat next to him and started pulling vials out of a bag.
“Now, now, let’s see what we’ve got here, shall we?”
Sheik examined him, poking here and prodding there, “Yes, yes, a nasty concussion, three cracked ribs, a fractured collarbone and a broken leg. Nice work on the splints, Sylas.”
“Thank you.”
Sheik handed Rick a vial of purple liquid, “Here drink this. It’s for the pain. I shall give you a restorative next.”


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