"Abbil...Ghind...demons..."
Those were the last words that the drow said as he fell unconscience into Dranix's arms. The druid's face was a mix of shock and horror as he surveyed his friends many wounds.
"Nilan......" He started, his voice trailing off as the words his friend said finally settled in.
Quickly clearing his head and focusing on the matter of seeing after his friend's grevious wounds before contemplating what the dire words of his wonded companion meant about the course he had already set off on.
"Deshana, quickly locate Lazus, for this is beyond even our healing capabilities."
Deshana looked at the old druid for a moment, then to the wounded drow, and nodded as she sped out of the tent towards town.
"My Kal'Abbil, what have I done?" The old druid said with a tear running down his face, "I sent you to investigate when it should have been me, this is not your battle."
Dranix cradled his friends head in his arms and prayed to Silvanus, and to any other gods that would listen, to save the life of this drow that had come to mean so much to him as a friend.
He sat there tears streaming from his jade eye as Deshana and Lazus burst into the tent. Lazus going straight to the wounded drow as Dranix stood up and shook his head.
"This is too much, I must leave....I trust he is in good hands." he whispered as he made his way out of the tent.
Deshana stared after him as he left the tent, a look of anger plainly displayed upon her fine elven features.
Muttering to himself as he made his way to his home, the words of his friend echoed through his mind.
"Abbil...Ghind...Demons.."
"Has Ghind allied himself with even more powerful allies? Demons?" he said to himself as he made his way to the top of the tree that he had called home for the past couple of years.
Paying no heed to his surroundings, he had made this climb so many times that he could do it blind, he didn't even notice the figure clad in a dirty red robe sitting in his tree.
As he started removing his robe he felt a tug on his ponytail accompanied by a little giggle. Quickly he turned around, and was staring down at a pair of eyes that he thought he would never see again.
"Jen...." his voice trailed off as he grabbed up the young mage in his arms, not daring to let go.
He wept for the second time this night, but this time the tears rolling down his face, were those of joy.
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Dranix Darkthorne, Druid of the High Circle and chosen of Silvanus
Strange days and stranger nights.
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Dranix/Straxin
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