Full sun rescued us from our dreams.
Dark by night, the old woman’s house was radiant by Pelor’s dawn light, as if it were a home built of all window and no roof. It seemed like a completely different place today than it had last night. Before the old woman came out to find us, we packed up and made ready to leave. We accepted only a brief breakfast and hastily departed, most gracious for the hospitality.
Our escort was outside; we set forth out of town. None of us made conversation. I might know for sure what was on our minds.
Stopped in some trees and used the shade to shelter us to lunch. Set on our way again at more brisk a pace than the day before yesterday. Not by our choosing. Either the escorts guarding us know something, or they have been paid only for this day and tomorrow and do not intend to ferry us for free. Lunk and BOB must have included Reece in their conspiracy; the young fighter is on alert, and looks to the elder warriors for some sign to act.
Dusk, and we stopped to assemble camp. Despite the growing field of dark above, our mood was better than the morning. Unfortunately, this was also true for Dusty. His painful humour had returned.
He said this to me, after dinner : “Hey, Dr. Grant. Let me get your opinion. When I was 19, with both hands I couldn’t bend my (colloquial slang for engorged male member) even the slightest. At 21, with both hands I could bend it a little. Then at 23, with just one hand I could bend it that same amount. Now, at 25, with one hand I can bend my (same slang) more than ever. I’m worried, Doc – as I get older, how much stronger am I gonna get ???”
This, sadly, is what passes for medicine out here in the wild.
Journal of Dr. Marcus Grant
Healing Cleric of Pelor, Order of St-Jude Academy (Silabrek)
7th Day, travelling from small town to Callia, territory of Ælim.