Entarez finished with his patient; he looked up sometime during his last surgery Ling had disappeared. He snorted as he signaled to a young dwarf to wipe down his station and bring in the next wounded dwarf. The half dragon paced the room and stretched trying to keep awake. It was cold in the med tent, which was nice for keeping awake, but it was starting to become hard on the fingers.
“Evina…” he called to the young dwarven women who’d been assisting him throughout the evening. She turned to him inquiringly “do you think you could find another brazier for the tent here…” at that moment the mental calculation caught up to him. She’d been by his side through the last two surgeries, and had spent the slight down time in between prepping the table and sterilizing the equipment. “… never mind, I’ll get it, I could use the walk anyway” Entarez grabbed his cloak and left the tent shuddering as the onslaught of cold air hit him hard. He looked about the camp, the med tent stood beside a lonely apple tree at the top of the hill, scattered around it were a few small fires and braziers keeping the wounded who waited warm, gear and shelters had been strung up to keep them has covered from the elements as possible. Beyond that to the west things became more orderly as tent rows and sentry stations began to crop up in dwarven order, the clockworks were spread along the hill base, with a repair station and a rider camp towards the northern end of the long hill. The half-moon gave everything an eerie glow, which even with darkvision seemed slightly disturbing. He took a breath and walked out into the snow
“AHHH, RAHHHH, AHHH!” Entarez almost fire-balled the apple tree, he hadn’t seen the small raven perched there, and it has almost literally scared the shit out of him. He glared at the bird, and for histories sake checked to see if there were any auras or magics about it. There were none, it was an average ordinary raven; he hated it all the more. Shaking his head he went out into the night and quickly found an unused brazier and a shovel full of coal. Upon returning her looked to the tree again, now there were two birds staring at him. Again he ran a gambit of spells checking for compulsions, magic, undead, evil, good, law chaos… heck he even checked for snares and pits… the birds radiated nothing. He watched them warily for a moment before returning to the tent, and lighting his new heat source.
It took forty five minutes to suture this dwarf, he’d caught a nasty bite on the cheek and half his face had been torn. The pour dwarf would never be a beauty star with sixty four stitches, but Entarez prided himself that the dwarf would have muscle control of his face, and would be able to smile or glower as he saw fit, that was what was important. He took a long drink from his water skin upon finishing and shuddered, it was still cool in the tent, he was having trouble getting warm, maybe it was fatigue he wasn’t sure. He walked to the door of the tent and peaked out… seven raven’s in the tree, all of them staring at the tent. This wasn’t normal… sure they may come because of the blood and battle, but why stare at the tent, instead of scavenge the field? Was this their home? Maybe, but would not four thousand dwarves drive them off? He checked again for magic and was surprised while doing it when another two birds came and landed in the quickly crowding tree. He didn’t like this, it would need more thought.
To Be Continued