Oki

Travel Log of Lazarus S. Brixton 2

Entry 2

Lazarus S. Brixton
Sanguine preserve us all in his holy embalming fluids. I knew that this was a savage land of savage people, but today just eclipsed any expectations that I had coming here. Honestly, I haven’t the faintest idea on how to begin my tale or even how I survived. Has it really only been four days since my last entry?

I suppose that the best place to start shall be where I left off. It was a fairly standard day after words until apparently some sort of squat humanoid blob jibbly thing appeared. I do apologize, it is rather hard to describe it. It is almost as if a shapeless blob of flesh got bored and decided to bounce from place to place. Either way, it was a most fascinating specimen of the savage physiology and a welcome distraction. It is covered in hides and furs and some sort of what I now know to be a holy symbol for the creature. Most amazingly, the creature appears to be sentient and is named Thoorin. Also apparently the Caravan’s holyman. No wonder why this caravan is filled with so many savages if this is the sort of creature a man like Charlie regularly hires.

Savage or not, I noticed that the creature was injured and thus was Sanguine bound to lend my assistance to it. After a quick surgery, I extracted the cause of the creature’s pain/indifference. Appears that somehow the creature had gotten a crossbow bolt lodged in its kidney. After sealing the wound and collecting some of the pus and blood for further research. As it was getting late, we decided to call it a night after my nightly stretches.

The most interesting about the creature is that when I encountered it the next day, there was no sign of the wound. This must mean that this specimen has an extremely fast regeneration instead of simply a repair system. With further questioning and research, it may be the key to unlocking the inner secrets of the body’s own regenerative system, possibly even halting the toxicological and degeneration of cellular effects caused by aging. In addition, if I could harness such an effect, it might even be possible for me to transplant organs and limbs to replace those that others may have lost through misfortune. Especially if such a treatment to artificially induce a similar rate of regeneration is developed, we might be able to avoid lengthy recovery time by creating new cells instead of simply inducing a wound healing cascade as my current extracts allow.

Unfortunately, due to the creature’s less than compendious grasp of the tenets of the Imperial Tongue or any other language but his own savage guttural growlings, our conversation was less than insightful. I would have continued my line of questioning had I not heard the distinct sound of a dragging Cat-o-nine-tails that I have learned to dread coming towards me. Upon catching sight of the damnable King Savage, I promptly vacated to have a little chat with Summation to learn about his Biomechanic physiology. It was rather interesting. Despite the complete differences in life fluids and structures, it turns out that he actually heals very similar to a civilized man. At least this is very well as I am certain that he may be injured if we continue to run into more of our perils.

Next with the bellowing from a horn that I later learned was Gerrard, one of our rowboats made it out of the fog at high speeds. While I was uncertain of exactly what the horn bellows meant, I assumed to prepare for some sort of trouble the best way a chirurgeon can. I honestly did not expect that the savage would be coming back with someone, especially someone in that condition.

The man that the savage deposited on my operating surface was thoroughly worked over by the savage forces of nature. The man had uncountable wounds and bruises across his body. The only reason I suspect that he hasn’t succumb to blood loss was that the blood had frozen in his frostbitten limbs and flowed sluggishly through his veins. I quickly injected him with my Rapid Acclimatization Serum to prevent further effects of Frostbite although I still had to deal with the effects that had already occurred. At this time, the holy man decided to join me in helping me heal him. His methods, while primitive, where highly effective as much as it pains me to admit it. While he used his magic to sustain the failing body, I quickly brewed up a Cellular Division potion to attempt to curtail the damage and improve the effectiveness of our treatments. Once we completed our tasks, it was almost as if the man had never been injured at all.

The man called himself Az Rasani and appears that he is a frontiersman on a pilgrimage of sorts. Apparently he had been riding on a passenger boat that was attacked by Savage Orc Pirates and left for death by them. At this we decided to prepare for the possibility that we also may be attacked by the same band.

And so we were. I of course, reacted as any Calvan would and helped repel the boarders with my martial prowess. No mere pirate, no matter how savage, is ever a match for a Calvan on the water. Even though the creatures wielded a bulky projectile launcher that launched giant rocks of all things, I was able to send them on the run with my explosives. As I led the charge, the others showed that they had some skill at fighting. Rasani, surprisingly enough, is a talented archer although I believe that this fight may have led to aggravating his condition. Gerrard was unsurprisingly effective at using his shifter blood to enhance his fighting styles and even the entertainer fought surprisingly well for a non Calvan. As for my rival, I honestly don’t remember him doing much except for waving his hands and sputtering nonsense. Truly his nerves must have been at the breaking point for the mere presence of an orc raiding party to bring him down. Alas, not all of us can have the disposition to be a Calvan Gentleman.

However, the largest spectacle was the savage creature. Even though the creature started completely weaponless, it did not let it deter him from engaging in a primal display of savagery. As it bounced orc to orc, it picked up a dagger that had formerly belonged to Gaius prior to him losing it to the creature in what I imagined must have a terrible fright for Gaius. The creature didn’t simply stab or slash with the dagger, it merely punched with it foregoing any pretense of a civilized fighting style. It continued with this until it delivered a delightfully effective speech, culminating with a snapping of some hapless orc’s spine.
After this rousing performance, our party starting behaving more like Calvans and starting beating back the orc pirates. After I had entered the fray with some more explosives, the cowardly orc savages ran away to lick their wounds. Unfortunately, due to the aggression of party, there was no winnings to show for it other than a battle axe that the creature took and the curious stone thrower for Rasani.

For some reason, Gaius started salivating over that stone thrower and started claiming that he could make one even smaller that shot out the projectiles faster. While it can be forgiven due to his non Calvan upbringing, I promptly corrected his mistake and informed him of the existence of Firearms that renders such a weapon moot. Ah, the look on his face. Sometimes, its the little things that keep a Calvan in tip top condition. Although that reminds me, I must pick up some honey in Middleborough. I am still angry at Gaius for ruining my tea and honey back in that inn when he accidentally hired some whores and then he tried to renege on it.

Afterwards, we came upon the wreck of Rasani’s former ship. Naturally I went forth to render aid but alas I came too late even for my prowess. The worst part about the ship was the state the passengers were in. Those Orcs were determined to represent the worst this frontier can offer. While the savages in our caravan even the creature and the Tyrant Cree may have a air of restrained civility about them. A thin one, yes, but even they know the tenets of civilization while these pirates set up these passengers and brutally disemboweled them and sliced them up after they been rendered helpless but while the passengers still lived. These orcs got off far too lightly for their crimes. If I had known of the depth of their crimes when we fought with them, there would be some on my operating surface awaiting their contributions to Sanguine via vivisection. It would be no less than such monsters deserved. At least some good came out of it. We recovered some Jaddha Ayiff trade goods that we may sell and also some repair materials which I suspect will be in high demand in the days to come.

Following that jaunt through depravity, Rasani, no doubt due to his past wounds, came down with a bout of Filth Fever. I expertly administered care using my bedside manner that I have carefully improved on through the Collegiate of Sanguine Sciences. According to my professors, my approach is so successful that it would rouse the dead into walking away healthy. While he was down, I decided to pass the time in the traditional manner by recounting tales of my youth. Surely an imperial countryman would relish at the opportunity to learn how such a fine example of a Calvan Gentleman had come to be. I continued forth the entire day on this vein while making sure to extol to the man that Gaius can not be trusted to be right and ways that the man has caused trouble with his ideas. Alas, this opportunity to inform a Frontiersman of the glories of Calva came to an end when the savage creature appeared on my door step. Rudely interrupting me, it somehow convinced me to take up guard duty for that day while it watched the patient. I would assumed some sort of pagan magic was involved if it weren’t for the fact that no uncivilized magician or sorcerer could pull the wool over the eyes of an Calvan. So bidding my patient farewell, I went forth to guard for the day and to sign up for second watch.

Other than landing and bidding farewell to Jackie’s barge, not much happened during the day. I did get some amusement at watching Gaius get used as a porter while I had the excuse of having to be alert and on guard to prevent me from such a fate. It was not until night had arrived that the truly interesting happened. I was posted on second watch, a paragon of perception as any true Calvan can attest. Throughout the night, I had heard strange noises but was unable to find the creature making them. I wisely and cautiously awakened the hunter Rasani to see if he could help me in my search for the elusive creature. But alas, the Frontiersman merely scoffed at my correct assumption that something was out there and went back to sleep. I continued my vigilant search for the noise until my watch was up. Upon waking up Rasani, I calmly and collectedly returned to my wagon to sleep for the time I had left before morning.

I woke up to Cree getting the camp ready in the morning. It turned out that the noise Rasani had scoffed at had marked up all our wagons. Upon recalling some of my learnings about the region, I informed that it may have been a creature called a Fieand Bear but the fools merely scoffed at this notion. The savage Gerrard even went so far as to strike my personage. The only reason that I didn’t cripple the man where he stood was for the good of the caravan. In reflection, I do wish that I gave into the ungentlemanly response of gutting the man but as they say only Calvan hindsight is perfect.

We set out to the ridge above the ruins that Cree found the day before. It was an imposing edifice, almost a rival for a Calvan Guildhouse, with pillars of different materials. It was these pillars that drew my attention. I noticed upon these pillars that there was writing. I decided that rather trust my rusty linguistic skills that it would be better to employ the Linguistic Cognate Agglutinogen, a marvelous formulae that actively forms antibodies that somehow interpret the literal meanings of any language spoken or written. Unfortunately, as this only affects one’s perceptions it cannot be used as a shortcut to communicate to others. Oh dear, I believe that I have gone off on a tangent.

With uncharacteristic intelligence, Gerrard delayed his entry and also attempted to translate the pillars. While it was a good try, the man had horridly mistranslated some parts into words of safety instead of warning. Luckily, I remembered that this man was merely a savage and not a Calvan and decided to double check his work. I worked out the warning as “Beware this place for it the is home of Fiend bear. Ancestor Spirits rest with Him below. This is where death Treads”

As you can imagine, I promptly decided to leave this place until we can come back with more men or at the least a Calvan firearm. The others of the party decided as well. It wasn’t until I was calmly telling Charlie that it was best to leave this ruin to another day and to move on that I noticed that Gerrard was missing. At first this did not seem remiss but amidst a loud bang, I knew that savage stupidity the likes of which no Calvan would ever stoop to was being committed. While the rest of the party prepared for trouble, we continued with our attempt to get ready to leave. Suddenly, with a loud roar from down below, Gerrard cleared the top of the dune and took off running as the coward he was.

Then I saw the beast. It resembled a gigantic humanoid bear with the talons of an eagle and curling ram horns sprouting from its head. I imagined that this Fieand Bear must have been angered at Gerrard. In my sense of urgency, I admit I let my Calvan resolve slip for a moments as I humbly beseeched Gaius for the best placement for my plan. Using my Calvan intelligence, I placed a bomb to bury the foul creature underneath a dune of rocks. I then expeditiously retreated myself to the wagon.

By this time, the wagon had taken off at full bore. At this time, I reflected well on my morning calisthenics which have lend well to my withdrawal. I managed to outpace the wagon and promptly jumped in the rear most wagon. Once in safety I decided to look back and found to my dismay that the beast had taken flight. For the next twelve hours that beast trailed us and hounded us. Our attacks were useless against it, our attempts to escape were curtailed. We only lost the beast through a fluke chance.

The beast evidently took umbrage that our caravan managed to elude it for so long and decided to leave us with a parting blast of lightning. Luckily, our wagons took the brunt of the hit and most of our people were left unharmed. The one exception to this was the poor Frontiersman Rasani. The man was apparently shotgun of the caravan and was trying to take potshots at the Fieand Bear with his stonethrower. After I heard the scream, I was unable to think of anything but healing the man. I used my skills honed through long years of improving upon my physique and tumbled, somersaulted, and leapt into the front Wagon. Somehow the savage creature followed me to act as a impromptu nurse. Over the course of our flight we managed to bring the Frontiersman back to full health. The man will be scarred for life most likely, however life already seemed to have beat this damage to this. We decided to rest for night upon consulting our Ironborn Driver for where we were in the mountains.

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