asgardmeridiem | OPT-OUT EVENT LOG: SOMETHING SIGNIFICANT, WEEKS ONE AND TWO

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OPT-OUT EVENT LOG: SOMETHING SIGNIFICANT, WEEKS ONE AND TWO

The volunteers from the LOCUSTS! event last month found in Odin's office endless research into Ginnungagap and a handwritten note from the King prior to his collapse. All arrows are pointing in the direction of the sacred canyon, and so it is that the Travellers will be initiating their own investigation into whatever Odin believes may be down there. It will be done without the eyes of the gods, however, so the trip will be a dangerous one without a map to lead the way and there may be many unforeseen obstacles along the way.

Day 441 ( April 30/May 1 ): As per the whispers on the street, the Travellers that've decided to go on this trip will meet up in the earliest hours of Day 441 at the Gate of Fire. Pack and prepare for a long haul, as this one will be a difficult journey. Any of those that went on the Down This Road opt-out event may want to offer up their memories as a vague guide into the canyon, but either way - without the guidance of the gods, making it to Ginnungagap safely will be nigh impossible.

After the Travellers sneak their way out of Asgard, they will make way towards the canyon to the east. Travel will be slow and difficult, particularly in moving through the forests that have been ravaged by the recent flooding. When they make camp for the evening, they will suffer the same strange sensations as those in Asgard just before 11PM: they will simultaneously feel a flicker in their bodies, like a missed heartbeat or a cut-off breath. Those in Freyr house that were present for the god's death and those that were present for the Friendly Fire event will recognise the sensation; it will happen twice more before one final blip. In that moment, everyone will essentially have a minor blackout: their vision will fade, their bodies will freeze, and there will be an internal sensation of dropping.

After this, the Travellers outside of the city will feel something of a drag towards Ginnungagap. It will feel like an outside force beckoning them inward, to someplace they belong. The compulsion will be relatively easy to overcome, but it will linger all throughout their journey through the depths of Yggdrasil.
Day 443 ( May 4/5 ): Approaching the border between Asgard and Ginnungagap will bring the Travellers closer to the Fire Giants' kingdom of Muspellheim. From this distance, they will just barely be able to make out the great volcano, still lit at its peak, and a heavy black cloud that lingers over most of the kingdom. In this area, it may behoove them to keep an eye out for Giant patrols and pockets of defects from Surt's ranks, all seeking safe ground somewhere in the relatively neutral territory of Ginnungagap. They will be volatile and attack upon sight, but no groups will be any larger than five, maybe six at most.

As they sneak and fight their way across the plains, they will find that Ginnungagap is sparsely littered with old trees and short, soft grass on the outskirts of the canyon, streams flowing from varying mountain peaks into the vast space below; deeper within, it is sheer rock and sharp edges that are harsh and unyielding. If one were to look at it from above, they might think someone stabbed a knife into solid stone and carved out a jagged wound, and so it is moving through the canyon itself, where one false step can lead to certain and painful death.

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Roland's expression, even through the calm that always settles through him at times like this, can best be described as, are you fucking kidding me? Because paper, as marvelous as it is...

Well. That's different, then. There's no room in Roland's mind now for embarrassment at how unused he obviously still is to the magic of Asgard. He only approves of the tactic, silently, and makes a note to find this man again if he ever needs to plan a battle.

"No," he murmurs. "Wasn't enough time. But I can make sure they do. Anything else useful in there?" The gun at Roland's hip and the sword at his back will, after all, only do so much. There might be only a moment more to prepare, but sometimes, he knows, a moment is enough.

Edited (icon) 2014-05-07 12:27 (UTC)

The shocked look of disgust, calm as it was, was one he had seen often before usually the result of some one skilled in the art of combat wondering why he was in a battle zone when he was not. Truth be told during times like this he wondered that too. He did not consider himself a fighter or even particularly brave, but... he could think strategically and come up with creative weapons of war. That was an advantage he intended to fully exploit.

"Si, I can create ammunition, more weapons, a small armored vehicle... what ever you need."

"I need something to keep the other two busy. And you some way to defend yourself. Do you have a sword?" If he doesn't, Roland will remove the one from its sheath and hand it to him. "If you need to use it, just... keep yourself as small a target as possible. Wave it around as much as you can and yell until I can get to you." Because that's definitely how you use a sword. Absolutely. But they've run out of time for talking, and that will have to do.

Roland stands and walks to the ridge, stationing himself right in front of the spot he'd seen the caltrops fall. He doesn't need to do more than that for one to spot him and come running forward - it's not really complex, this tactic, but it doesn't really need to be. He's got little doubt it'll run over the weapons, and that would hobble a human for sure. But these? Well. He'll see. Roland waits and listens behind him, expecting at any moment to hear screams.

Waving the sword around and yelling like a fool was precisely the way he would use a sword. The offered weapon was accepted but not with out trepidation and the way his eyes widened as the piece was given to him no doubt betrayed his fear of possibly having to use the thing. For his sake Leonardo decides it is better to find a way to avoid sword play. Which... may not prove easy as the giants were swiftly closing on their location.

Roland as bait for the trap made a very tempting target. Not only does he hear the screams of the creature as the deadly sharp iron caltrops pierce through the thick callouses of the creature's feet but the earth shakes like a miniature earthquake when the monster tumbles to the ground. It is difficult for any creature to remain standing with a 'thorn' in their foot and these thorns were especially nasty with hooks on the end intended to latch onto a target and make their removal all the more difficult.

Alerted by the howls of pain of its companion the second of the giants changes his path, now walking along the ridge where he had a good view of everything that went on below him. Roland and his injured partner were seen first and the giant snarls as his sword is drawn. With sword raised to charge the giant let out a war cry that suddenly shifted to a wail of pain as a watery mixture slammed into his face from what looked to be a medieval supersoaker.

Find a way to keep the other two busy, Roland had said. The thought process had been what would a fire giant be weak to, the easy answer was water, but... just in case that proved not to be true there might have been a little something special added to the mixture. As an alchemist Leonardo could mix paints of any hue but it also afforded him knowledge of acids, a very potent one of which was eating away at the other giant's face.

"You said there were two," Leonardo called as loudly as he dared over his shoulder to Roland as he tried not to look at the horrors he had caused, "Do you see the other one?"

Roland doesn't look back, only focuses on avoiding the waving sword as his opponent tries to keep Roland at bay while he finds some way to stand up. He's moving around a lot, but at this distance it's not too difficult for Roland to raise his gun and send a single shot through his temple.

Only then does he turn, and the noises he's been hearing turn out to be just as surprising as they'd promised to be. He shakes his head in response, trotting behind the man and looking around carefully. "Possible he snuck around behind us when he heard the noise. Be alert."

He looks back at the second one that'd attacked. It's fallen out of the path of the water but doesn't seem to be focused on much more than screaming and pawing at its face. Whatever weapon that'd been used on it is certainly one of note. Roland eyes the screaming, writhing figure a moment more, dutifully noting the weapons effects, then steps as close as is wise and ends them.

"Listen," he says into the sudden silence. "These shouldn't know any magic, and without that the third can't be very silent for long." He bends toward the still, quiet form in front of him, picking up the sword there in the awkward, two fingered grip of his right hand and walking back to set it at his ally's feet. "Best we switch swords while we can," he says, holstering his gun so he can hold out his one fully-fingered hand for the sword he'd lent. "I'll be a little better with one I'm familiar with."

The larger bladed weapon he retrieves from the ground would probably be even more troublesome for his unskilled battle newbish self to handle but making sure the swordsman has the most comfortable sword is the most important thing! It was likely Roland's talent with a blade would save both of their lives. The borrowed sword is very quickly given back to Roland and happily so! He would have hated to have to try and use the thing anyway.

"Grazie, for lending it to me."

The remaining giant did not charge in as foolishly as the others had. He could not even be readily seen, which for a giant was a pretty remarkable skill.

Leonardo scans the not so distant tree line looking for any trace of where the giant might have gone but he spots no trampled bushes or broken tree limbs to say he had entered the woods. Maybe he hadn't. Behind them then as Roland had said? This direction is scanned next but it appears equally as quiet.

"I had though we might see so--... Do you think he may be planning something? Maybe he knows the other two have died?"

Roland picks up his sword, nodding at what he assumes is thanks. After a moment, he decides not to sheath it - he may be far better with the gun, but given the speed he'd seen from the other two it might be too much of a risk.

"I think he'd have to be very slow not to at least guess." Roland paces in a steady circle around the other man, staying watchful. "If your water cannon works more than once, I'd start preparing it."

Among Roland's preparations for this journey had been a trip to the library, and that trip serves him well now. What had the books said? Short tempers, and a dislike of the pursuits of the mind? A severe dislike. He glances at the man behind him and his pad of paper, thoughtful, then looks back out at the trees.

"Too afraid to face us, then," he calls, projecting his voice. "Wise of you. No amount of planning will help. No matter how much you wish it, the designs of your mind could never match those of my man here." That was movement in those bushes. He's sure of it. A little more should do it.

Roland looks back at Leonardo again, eyebrows raised, and jerks his head in the direction he'd been shouting. Some bragging wouldn't go amiss, though he's not sure how well these giants hear and so he counts on his expression to say that for him.

A few levers were adjusted and a hand pump came into quick use to refill the air reserve, all minor things that would see the water canon employed again once full pressure was reached. The small machine was sort of a take off of his earlier steam weapon and the amazing advances in steam and air power he had witnessed in Alfheim. With stronger gaskets and no need for fire to create the steam and pressure the device could be used multiple times... but man! Did it take some doing to pump! That would be the next improvement, if he lived long enough to tweek the creation some more, finding a way to refill the air tank with out so much of a work out.

Working the machine he listens to Roland's words but focuses more on his work until... Mio dio. His mouth drops in something akin to horror as Roland yells out his challenge to the final giant. Really?! That is what was needed now? They were not in enough trouble? What was Roland thinking? Did he want the giant to get angry and coming charging up here after them--... AH! It was such a simple plan but those were the best kind!

"Pezzo di merda!"

The Italian curse flew first. Likely the giant would have no idea of the meaning but would that not annoy him all the more?

"What ever you are thinking will never be enough! If I wished I could crush the woods you are hiding in, burn them all to the ground, and my friend and I could fly safely away. You do not have the skill or intelligence enough to defeat us! You--..."

The bushes let out an ear piercing roar as the Giant burst out of them and Leonardo swallowed back whatever else he had been about to say. The creature's charge was terrifying to say the least.

This'll be his first instance of combat - real combat - with this particular weapon since he lost the fingers, and his first instance of life-or-death swordfighting in some years. There's only enough time to realize that, to tighten his grip on the sword, and then action and instinct drive out everything else.

The giant's swing leaves his side unguarded - which, angry as he is, isn't surprising - but when Roland goes for it he's blocked, and any battle of strength between them is only going to last seconds so Roland ducks away, moving aside quick as he can and holding the sword up in preemptive defense. Thoughts of practice sessions with the boy Merlin are faint in his mind, and of course this is nothing like that. But it helps. He can feel himself making the same mistakes he's made before, and hears the boy's voice in his mind correcting gently until he straightens his stance. It's not much, but for the moment it's enough.

Roland kicks out, hoping to turn the giant's kneecap, but isn't too surprised when all it does is make him a little angrier. Roland is surprised when it kicks out in return, simultaneously swinging the blade. Rather than try to block and get both his legs broken, Roland flings himself away and rolls down the little hill, and then is treated to a closer view of Surt's soldier than Roland's ever wanted. Shockingly, the fire giant is hot, its charred, gravely skin seeming to bake the air around it, and if Roland had ever been able to grow that mustache he'd wanted in youth he's sure the ends of it would be curling and flaking away.

If it was only the heat he wouldn't be too worried, but this posture's damn difficult to hold a block from. Roland puts the same care toward the condition of his body that he does the condition of his gun, but flat on his back like this with his arms over his head, rarely used muscles are screaming. He can feel himself being pressed deeper into the dirt. Seconds, any block against this sort of strength will only last seconds, how long has it been?

Nevermind that they're too close for it, he'd meant to be well out of splashing range of whatever's in that cannon but he is out of time. "NOW!" Roland's sword is pushed a little closer to his face, and his voice doesn't quite have fear in it, but it does go high and very, very urgent. "For your father's sake, do it NOW!"

Roland turns his head away and closes his eyes, hoping to protect those at least from the burning liquid that will come, if he's lucky. Hoping the cannon is ready, and that the other man'll be able to finish the giant off once it does its work. Hoping, perhaps most of all, that the the aim behind that cannon is true.

Edited (canon cannon cannnnon I can spell. also this is the last edit I promise) 2014-05-12 12:17 (UTC)

"It would be too dangerous!"

Roland was too close. Far, far too close! Even as Roland called out, demanding that action be taken, how could it be done with him so near the fire giant? The possibility of the spray from the canon raining or dripping down from the monster was too great.

As thoughts whirl through his mind on how best to do this with the least possible risk the giant leans down on the blade, setting as much of his own weight against Roland's strength as he could. Steel now mere inches from his face and at such a devastating angle... it would be a death blow. How could any survive-- AH! ANGLE! Of course!

The giant was busy, far too busy to stop Leonardo from moving away from his position and taking his water canon with him. From where he had stood on the knoll there was little chance to avoid hitting Roland but from behind and at the right angle, which was quickly adjusted for... there!

The spray from the water canon hit the giant square in the back sending the excess spray mostly towards the ground. Doubtless there were still spray particles that could be a danger if they landed on the wrong target their number had at least been reduced. This attack was not as immediately crippling as the first use of the device had been but it did send the monster reeling away, breaking the locked swords free of each other as the creature stumbled backwards.

His howl of pain mirrored those of his fellows but he could still fight and upon discovering that his head slowly turned to Leonardo.
The fire giant charged again this time at the artist who only barely managed to dive out of the path of the giant's steel before being cut in two. The machine however was not so lucky. The giant took great pleasure in making sure that not only that it was hacked into pieces but that these were thrown unimaginably great distances away from the two he fully intended to kill.

The heat is such that Roland doesn't notice the burning on the side of his face until the giant rolls away. It's only a single spot though, doesn't seem to be spreading or eating into his skin so Roland pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and rolls up to his feet. The broad back of the thing is turned away from him, the charred skin of it uneven and eaten away, and the pattern of the injuries tells Roland instantly what angle the attack had come from. That had been quick thinking, and Roland appreciates that, but it's another fact that can wait for later and so he stores it away, too.

He approaches as quickly and quietly as he can, but his stab at that injured back is interrupted as his target turns, and Roland's sword slices deep into its arm instead. This needs to end quickly, because with each pained yell the thing gives, the higher the chances another patrol will hear and head toward it. But it's not as if Roland hasn't been trying.

Roland's never seen lava, but he has seen molten metal and that's what he thinks of as his opponent spins, sending thick droplets of what must be blood toward the ground below it. The orange, glowing stuff oozes from the giant's partially severed arm and brings a wave of heat with it, and that heat is such that Roland isn't really surprised when the drops of it send little patches of grass beneath bursting into flame.

He moves quickly as he can toward the giant's other side, not particularly wanting to deal with catching on fire on top of everything else, but his movement's halted when the giant's sword comes up and all Roland's energy goes once again to blocking it. It's only using one arm now, only able to twitch its hand feebly with the other, but half that strength is still considerable.

"The sword I gave you!" Roland doesn't look toward the other man, too much risk of not seeing any other move the giant decides to make, but Roland's confident that he'll hear. "Put it in his back!"

Of course, this means the giant knows what they're trying to do, which makes it even more risky to bring someone with no swordfighting experience (or so Roland assumes) directly into a swordfight. If it tries to swing at the other man Roland will try again to block it - his form's not the best, which means his grip and balance aren't as stable as he'd prefer, but the risk is a necessary one. There's no way, he's certain now, that he is going to kill this thing on his own.

The sword like several of the small trinkets he carried in his pockets had tumbled to the ground when he had been forced to dive for cover. Leonardo made a mad scramble for it now, grasping the hilt before standing and sizing up the giant.

The large creature was badly injured and trying to keep both men at bay by making sure he was facing them at all times. This was hampered by Roland's attacks as he tried to make sure the monster was flanked and that some one had a clear shot of it's back.
Mio dio...
It was such a sinking feeling to realize he had the best chance of doing that.

The sword shakes in his hand and the grip is feeble, the tip of the blade consistently dropping amateurishly towards the ground. Not only was he inexperienced with a sword but being something of a pacifist actually striking down a living creature was... It was a terrible thought! He had seen it done before by others of course, his had been a dangerous age.
The way a trained killer moved, they way they struck at their enemies, it always seemed quite easy for them. Ezio in particular. If there was ever a man more skilled in the art of killing Leonardo could not think of one... But to do it himself?

His feet move of their own accord, circling the monster in front of him as the creature is forced by the tenacity of Roland's attacks to focus more on him. The back was exposed, vulnerable, much as it had been with the water canon earlier.

The sensitive muscles, sinews and nerves... he knew them well enough and felt their location might be the same even in a creature like a fire giant. There should have been a large vessel for the carrying of blood, right... there. Leonardo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and charged forward aiming for that. If he didn't they would die. The worlds, all of them, filled with all of those important people, would die. He just didn't look as the sword pierces through the fire giant's flesh or when more of that firey blood spills out to light the ground ablaze. He sees nothing until the giant's flailing arm sends him careening backwards to land hard against the stoney ground and even then all he sees for that moment is stars and the growing inferno around them.

The injury's the last one, Roland thinks. The last injury that it can take. He knows it, knows the look, and he's certain the creature knows it, too. But it's not an immediate one. The giant screams again, flails, and Roland takes advantage of that to try to stab it and end things for good. But in the heat of the moment, he's forgotten his own lack of skill, forgotten that his grip's bad, and the giant spins around with Roland's sword now stuck inside of it.

Ignoring the memory of his old teacher sounding through his mind - who, Roland is sure, would be asking him if he was trying to make the creature laugh itself to death, because a gunslinger's got no other reason to be this damned incompetent - Roland runs in the direction the giant is spinning, trying to grab at his sword while staying in the one spot that molten blood spatter isn't reaching. It's ridiculous, it looks ridiculous, nevermind that the one person who'd have a good view of it is flat on the ground with his eyes closed. (Dead? Roland's brief - but thorough - glance toward him had seen no injuries, so unlikely. Unconscious? Maybe. Hopefully just stunned, that sort of unconsciousness can lead to far worse problems later. No help for any of it now.)

Roland's hands may not be as skilled on a sword as he'd like, but they are still very quick, and with that speed he manages to get them back on the hilt that's still wobbling out from under of the creature's collarbone. Predictably it's more than hot, the far end of the blade starting to glow with that heat as that orange blood flows sluggishly over it. But the hilt, at least, isn't that bad yet so Roland keeps his grip, sets a boot onto the thing's thigh and yanks, stumbles backward, recovers and swings the sword. The sword gets stuck again, but this time it sticks halfway through the fire giant's neck, so that's alright. It gurgles, starts to tip, and Roland holds its stare as it falls.

Falls right next to Roland's new ally, it turns out, and Roland gives up on his sword in favor of hurrying to the man and pulling at his shoulder, trying to get him out of the way of the blood drifting slowly toward them. "I'll carry you if I need to, but this'll go quicker if you can run. Or, gods, tell me there's something in that paper of yours that can put all this fire out."

If the man doesn't come to his senses soon Roland will throw him over his shoulders and go, and if he does come to but decides to run Roland will follow after, but Roland won't leave this fire to get worse if there's any way to avoid it. He's seen how bad these things can get, and if nothing else their company still needs the meat of the animals living in this place. They'll need it both now and when they come back. The first priority is to survive, of course, but keeping from destroying this whole place behind them would definitely help with that.

Quite dazed the tug on his shoulder has the artist on his feet before it even fully registers that the slain creature had nearly landed on him or that it's deadly blood is flowing across the field towards them. Shaky as he is Leonardo struggles to keep his feet securely under him as Roland pulls him to the relative safety of the small flame-free patch of ground. This piece of earth would not be free of the fire for long if the flames continued to spread as they were. It all happens in a dream like haze until gradually his vision clears.

The beast was on the ground, the last of those who wished to see he and Roland dead. There was an undeniable feeling of relief at that, however short lived it was. They were not yet out of danger were they? There were still the flames and... Something was needed to put the fire out?

"A pail?"

Gallows humor as he reached for his notebook and tried to think of something, anything that might help in a situation like this.

The pencil he set to paper was unfocused as he threw something messy together on the page. The first thing he could think of really. The strange scribble flew from the page when he was done to morph in the air, growing larger and larger until the white mass covered the area in which they and the fire stood. Cold and wet the mass of snow drops suddenly cutting off their escape route by burying the pair up to their waist in snow but at the same time snuffing the majority of the fire.

Roland leaves his hand on the man's shoulder, ready to keep pulling if he has to. But Roland can see he's working, and even if there's little time to wait Roland waits anyway, trusting that this solution will be as effective as the last one.

Some of that solution keeps drifting slowly down afterward, but most of it appeared and then fell all at once with a quiet whumf sort of noise. Roland stares at it, bemused, feeling its cold stinging his burned palms and the wetness of it starting to soak into his jeans. Well. It was pretty effective.

"Hm," he says, digging his purse from the snow and pulling a scrap of fabric from it. He gathers the snow into that fabric and starts rubbing it down the blade of his sword, trying to get some of that orange blood off of it. It's not so orange anymore, cooling to a hard gray and flaking off the sword pretty easily. He wonders, very briefly, whether the blood in the veins of their downed foes is doing the same.

"No way to make certain they're dead in this. We'd better move." And Roland does move. A total of about three inches. He grunts, frowns at the snow packed around them, and tries again with a little more success. Roland turns his frown toward the other man and he does seem to be turning to him for all the ideas, doesn't he, but-- well, Roland knows about snow, is familiar with the idea of it, but how does it really even work? Is there a trick to this?

The other man in the meanwhile was busy removing his cap and brushing the snow from it with exaggerated gestures of frustration.

"Che cosa stavo pensando... Snow of all things! Why did I think of snow? Why not rain or something easier to deal with?"

[(What was I thinking...)]

He too took a step but far less gracefully, as still a touch lightheaded he stumbles and nearly face plants into the snow bank ahead of him. Catching Roland's arm saves him from this terrible fate, as if it really mattered... the snow was already melting its way into his boots.

"They can not still be alive after that?"

Again escape was attempted this time more successfully as he slogged his way past Roland through sheer brute force. A small trail was formed in the snow by his passing but it was tiring work. He was quite out of breath by the time they made it to an area only thinly covered by the snow.

The key to working with snow, apparently, is simply to bully your way through it. Alright.

"I don't know. But I've never fought these things before, and I'd rather not take chances."

Once they finally make it out Roland sees to his own hat, currently hanging by its string from his neck. Predictably, it's somewhat flattened, and he frowns as he tries to straighten it out. He's still walking, of course, with only a little leeway made for how out of breath the other man is. Best to move as far as possible. "And as far as the snow goes, I think it was the best choice. Suffocated the fire much more than rain would have. That, ah, water cannon you used. Are those used often in your world?"

Yes, he's aware he still doesn't know the man's name. But when it comes to a choice between empty pleasantries and finding out more about unfamiliar weapons, the name exchange can wait a moment.

Roland agreeing the snow was a good choice did little to ease the chill he felt as the wet stuff melted its way through any clothing it touched. Though perhaps it was better to shiver a little than roast? Eh... he would have to think more on that.

"No, we have nothing like that at home. We were only just beginning to use gunpowder for pistole."

Leonardo paused in his walking long enough to look back at the battlefield still covered in snow. It was melting now, likely from the weather and the heat from the fire caused by those giant beasts, while the fire had been snuffed it had still warmed the ground.

He took a few quick strides to catch back up with Roland and then fell in step beside him.

"The idea came from my studies of steam and air here in Asgard. The elves use similar things to power their cities and weapons. I had thought I might be able to help Asgard create a few weapons to defend the city from the giants... I just did not think I personally would have to use it."

Maybe he wasn't shivering only from the chill but also from the weight of all that had just happened. Here he was a man of ideas who hoped for peace and...

"You are a man used to combat?"

Roland listens closely, narrows his eyes and studies the man himself at his question. "Long used to it." He tightens his grip on his sword and then sheaths it, feeling the skin of his palm sting and pull with the movement. As he speaks next he studies his palms, thinking of a certain paste that could help them heal a little, if he could find the right plant to make it. Better to keep moving for now, and wait until they're nearer to camp to start looking.

"If you're feeling badly about your performance, don't bother. You thought quickly, acted quickly enough, and didn't hesitate to follow my orders. You didn't look around you before you made all that noise, but you also saved my life. And figured out how not to blind me in the process." A little detail Roland's definitely taken into consideration. "Do you have any experience fighting like this? Or was this your first time?"

"No I... I have been near battles before in Asgard but never in them. This was..."

He almost felt sick really. It was a strange twisting of the stomach, almost a pain that did not make him actually gag but it felt as if he should. Strange what happens when the adrenaline of the moment wears thin.

"I have never had to kill anyone before. Some one else always..."

Some one else always protected him. He couldn't think on this anymore. For the moment it was just too fresh.

Leonardo gestured to Roland, having taken notice of his favoring his hands and being almost desperate for a distraction, something else to focus on than the battle.

"Were you injured?"

Roland's expression has some sympathy to it, but he allows the subject change without comment. Killing someone for the first time - or, really, at all, but especially that first - is a terrible thing. But what is there to say about it? There's no advice he can give, because there are few words that could truly explain. Some people can figure out how to live with it, some can't, and that is all is to that. All there can be. Still, Roland makes a mental note to watch this man in the future, if he can.

For now, if it's a distraction he wants, Roland will allow it. "A little. Nothing time won't heal, I guess. Time, and a certain poultice I can probably figure out how to make from the local plants, once we get back to camp. And yourself? Any injuries? You may not feel them just yet, if there are any, so take care."

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OPT-OUT EVENT LOG: SOMETHING SIGNIFICANT, WEEKS ONE AND TWO

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