Survival

In theTrenches

Salar stayed low; he felt the oppressive heat come shoot down towards him as the dragon beat its wings above forcing the hot stifling air down into the ditch he cowered in. there was significantly less water in it now than when he’d first crawled in, and by the light of the fire he could see the moisture steaming and evaporating away. Carefully and keeping low he crawled forward following the curves of the ditch as it lead him on a course parallel to the town. He’d not crawled long before he began to hear the moaning and crying. It was hard enough at first to hear the pain strained screams of the horses that lay crippled by the Dragons onslaught but now as he continued his crawl he began to hear the cries of the men. Some were just grunts or moans of pain, others were fear crazed screams, others still were cries for help, but the ones that troubled Salar the most were the ones that were crying out for water, every dying man’s plea, or the few younger boys who called for the mothers and begged to go home. Salar took a deep breath trying in vain to block out the wretched imagery that he knew would haunt his dreams hence forth. Then steadying himself he grabbed his water skin and crawled out of the ditch to the first man. A glance told him that the man’s time on Argyle would be short, his was hard to tell where the horse ended and where he began, and even the most skilled of clerics would have been challenged trying to save him, thankfully the man had come to accept his fate, he looked to Salar and croaked

“Please friend, I’m to Sylvanis now, please… some water….” He ended coughing violently

“Ssssssettle, ssssettle” Salar said soothingly, surprised that he had once more mastered his tongue, he brought his water skin to the dying mans lips and gently poured the water forth. The man drank deeply and thanked him. Salar stayed a moment longer offering the man a prayer to Sept then moved forward crawling amongst the fallen giving them water and comfort where he could, bandaging those that had a chance to survive and holding the hands of those that were already dead but had not realised it yet. Several times he was forced to drag someone into the ditch of lie still as the dragon would roar and circle overhead, but the field between the town and the estate had grown still, and the dragon seemed content to focus elsewhere.

Time disappeared as Salar went about his work, he was unsure how much time had passed or where he was going, only that he was doing what he must.

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Argyle

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