Hop Skip Jump Doctor

[Honathor Longreach]

7th of Cylus
Outskirts of Ne’haer, Farmland.
Riding Fast Eastward.
Farmyard Introductions Part 2 - Continued from here

F

ingal didn’t lie, Heller was a horse and a half. Living multiple lives on the farm, Honathor could remembering riding often, but he wasn’t prepared to handle a steed like Heller. Having to constantly settle him, speed wasn’t a problem, him moving wasn’t a problem, slowing down or going where you wanted him to go, that was an issue. He turned just fine, but if heller was going to jump that log, he was going to jump that log. More than once Honathor found himself clinging on for dear life, unable to direct the mount.

With is shiny black coat and thick mane less visible in Cylus’s twilight, he was hard to miss at almost six feet tall to his back, or withers, as it was known. His thundering legs showing no sign of tiring as they travelled a break eastward along the dirt road, anyone they passed barely got a nod or a wave off. It was good he was a big animal, as Honathor was a big animal too some might say.

Back at the farm a boys foot was at stake, whether he might walk again. Riding hard to bring a healer back to him. It gave Honathor all the reason his protective Lotharro instinct needed to push the animal as hard as it would go. Heller loved it, to be fully opened up, Fingal was an older farmer and rarely drove the big steed this hard.

Just when everything seemed like it would be going smoothly, he came across an overturned cart, and two young humans standing in front of it, looks like someone had a spill. “You lads alright?” Honathor pulled up and shouted. The front one smiled a black toothed grin, “Thank ye for askin’ had a bit of an accident you see.”.

Honathor dismounted ready to help. “Need a hand upturning the cart?” He cracked his large shoulders together and warmed up his hands for lifting.

The human looked to his friend, who also stood up. “Manner'a' speakin, we are business associates, friends of the road, lookin' to fix it so this ere don't happen no more.” The other one, a larger man by all accounts nodded, “aye, friends.”

Getting a better look at them, there was something definitely off about the pair, he began to doubt this was there cart. “If I can’t help you, I’ll be off.” When he was talking common, he often didn't follow the conversation, and he had more important places to be.

[Honathor Longreach]

“After ye be making reparations for the safe use of the road.” The smaller of the two said, crossing his arms. “Got us three small kids to feed,” the larger chimed in.

“Make an attractive couple, bet they are a pretty lot.” Honathor cracked his knuckles visibly in warning, and laughed. “No coin here.” He walked toward the horse, mounted it with some fumbling difficulty, and about then the biggest of the two got the joke, standing in his way of leaving.

“He doesn’t like what you said,” the blacktoothed brigand and spokesman for the pair, picked what teeth he had left with his knife, mocking him. It got a growl in return from the Lotharro, Honathor had no time to fight, more was the pity! There was only time to ride.

“Hellar.” The horse raised its head, “on you go boy. Haiyaaa” he kicked his feet against the large black steed, it reared up, knocked the largest man off his feet with a good kick, and they rode off. Not as good as fighting, but you worked with what you had. By what he heard in the background, it didn’t sound like he’d made any friends back there. Finding himself clinging on again, each time the horse came across an uneven part of the road. Gradually he remembered what it was like to ride from past lives, although memory and real riding skill were two different things, he'd have a sore backside tomorrow for sure.

Another two breaks of open country, and he was nearing where he needed to be. No more roadside surprises, more was the pity. Coming up on some farms ahead, the Lotharro asked for directions and was pointed at a small stone hut in the center of a hamlet, with about ten houses in total, here wasn't much here but a well and homes.

The non too subtle farmer, searched around the dwelling for any signs of life, sure he could see eyes looking over the window ledge, when he looked back they darted down. Striding up he gave the front wooden door a sizeable knock, then several knocks waiting, eventually a pounding and then a kick, which only succeeded in hurting his foot, he’d attracted nobodies attention but the neighbors.

“Looking for the healer.” Honathor said obviously, he was back to using common so he kept it simple.

“We gathered that,” someone behind him replied, "so are we."

[Honathor Longreach]

B

ehind him a small queue had formed, someone with a badly off limp, and two people that looked like they had a rash, scratching themselves constantly, “what in Ilaren’s nosehairs is going on?”

“He’s not coming out.” The man with the limp sat down on a tree stump, assisted by a friend.

“Is he ill?” Honathor wondered.

“No he just won’t come out.” The man repeatedly sadly, wincing in pain for his own foot. "We had day's travel to get here."

Honathor growled, hammering the door again and cursing at his sore foot. “He has to, he’s the healer!” He could feel his temper building, “people need you!” All he could see was a pair of eyes from the side window peering out at him, and darting back down. The stocky Lotharro stomped on over, poking his head non too subtly into the wooden shutters. “Excuse me!”

“Nobodies home!” Someone shouted from inside.

“We need you out here!” Honathor threw his large hands up in the air and trudged off back to the front and the small gathering of disgruntled misfits at the front, the angry lotharro now chief among them. “Where’s the next nearest healer?”

“Two days west at Ne’haer, but they take special appointment,” the wincing man said gloomily to the floor.

“Just came from that way.” Then his thoughts turned to the others, “can you all ride?”

“Yer we would be doin’ but fer them damn chickens,” the most itchy man said, “if they get out of hand, everyone’s gonna have this rash, the animals, the neighbors, maybe even the next village. Doc said he’d be ‘avin some brew to cure us and special feed for the hens, but he’s just left us.” Honathor was a simple man, he didn't think things through a great deal, acting instead. This infuriated the Lotharro, not just his own friend back at the farm in serious pain, but the healer promising to help and then leaving everyone to fend for themselves.

“Stand back. The door's coming down.” Not thinking what would happen exactly when it was. Unless there just happened to be another healer nearby, the world was about to be minus one door. "Wait you can't do tha....." a shout came from inside.

[Honathor Longreach]

The question today was, which was stronger, a locked wooden door, or a Lotharro with a temper. Putting his shoulder down for a run, his bulky weight definitely made an impact on the thick wood. Even angered, the Lotharro lacked the full strength to knock it down completely, getting a sore shoulder for his trouble.

Resolving to go again, the door opened before he could, and a hand waved him inside. “Only you, only you” a voice repeated. Closing behind him, the door was locked again. Honathor was met unexpectedly with a tall, white Ellune . “Nobodies home,” she said again to him, distraught.

“Are you the healer? People out there need you, what’s wrong?” Always keen to help another he felt a pang of sympathy for the woman, and by his beard she was a tall one! “Nobodies home,” appearing lost, distraught and more anxious by the moment. Honathor tried to use a calming voice, like he would with a horse or upset oxen, “it’ll be alright, why don’t we sit down.” Biting her finger nails, the woman froze in place. “There, there,” Honathoar might sound condescending to another, he was trying his best, used to talking to animals.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him with her, heavy as he was he could have happily stayed where he was. Choosing to go with her to see what all this was about, they came to a bedroom where she lit a candle, and he saw another elderly Ellune, lying dead.

“Is this the healer?” Honathor asked her hurried checking for a pulse, she took time working out what he meant. Honathor thought it was his broken basic and his lack of vocal skills. Instead it was her nature, Ellune were not used to being on their own, and this showed itself almost like confusion, or getting half the message. When she'd been saying nobody was home, the lack of anybody being with her, had sent her into a panic.

Taking his next words very slowly, not yet understanding her dilemma, having never met her race before. "Are. You. Hurt?" The fact he didn't understand only served to panic her more.

[Honathor Longreach]

S

he looked at him sheepishly, got up and went to make herself a drink. Honathor wasn’t a great thinker, there was a problem so he fixed it. “Anymore Ellune nearby?” He asked. Arriving in her kitchen, pots were all over the place, the floor was clean but nothing else had be dealt with for a few days.

The Ellune was heating a pot of tea on the fire, at least it looked like it. She had shakey hands, so he went to pour her a cup and she became more distraught again, “hey, its alright, I was going to help,” but his words weren’t reaching her or making sense, backing away to give her space instead.

“More of me. Need,” her voice pleaded with him.

“You have friends someplace? Family?” Honathor looked at the door, probably should tell those folk the healer was dead here.

“More of me,” slumping to sit on a chair, she rested her head on her elbows.

“Could try the city,” he stroked his beard, someone had to know what to do with her.

“City,” the Ellune stood up, understanding. By now her pot had fully heated up, she picked it up on went on to the front door, boiling pot in one hand, cups in another, chewing something. Seeing her run to the door, Honathor got moving again, ready to explain what had happened inside.

It was a strange scene outside, a man hopping around on his good leg, trying to find a comfortable seat, two others scratching themselves and someone chasing after a fly that was bothering the people with the rash. Then there was this towering nervous or confused Ellune carrying a kettle, three cups, and silently chewing something. Honathors shaggy beard, and gruff face looked the most normal of the six people here. "The healers dead," he said with no real grace or build up. Everyone's shoulders sank, "sorry." Stretching his neck around, and loosening up the jaw, time for a long ride back. Somewhere in the distance a chicken squawked triumphantly.

[Honathor Longreach]

“Dead? This is awful.” A furious bout of scratching started again ahead of him. “Bad for him too,” another patient commented, “aye that too, terrible,” the first man corrected himself. Honathor managed a heftier than usual shrug of his shoulders at the odd conversation. “What about the chickens!” Was the main thing on people’s minds, much to the Lotharro’s annoyance.

Honathor wanted to shout blast your chickens man, someone’s just died, but before his temper could reach his voice, the towering Ellune had poured her pot into cups and gave them to the men with rashes. “Drink,” she said uncertain of herself, so uncertain nobody was sure whether to follow the advice. “No thanks kindly ma’am,” came the reply.

“Be better,” the Ellune assured them, taking whatever she’d been chewing out of her mouth.

“Give me a cup luv,” Honathor said, wanting to show them all it was safe, and not wanting a rash himself. This she seemed to understand, healing people was something she was more comfortable with. Pouring Honathor out a cup, everyone watched him swill it down in a long gulp. “Not bad.” Tasted like old oxen hide, they didn’t need to know that.

“What about my foot?” There was still the matter of the injured foot. Well there was, until she used what she’d been chewing. Smearing it across the surface of the damaged foot, while the man winced and whined. “That’s hot, hot hot hot!” Slowly he eased back into his seat, visibly more at ease.

The Ellune looked like she had at the start, confused, happy now for helping them, but confused.

“Got any more,” she didn’t understand him, so Honathor made a chewing face. The Ellune fiddled with her belt showing some of whatever the mix was in her hands. She began handing out what she had to those here, not much bedside manner or medical advice, but it was better than nothing till they could get to a real healer. “Alright let’s get you to the city,” with one small stop on the way, the farm.

[Honathor Longreach]

P

ocketing what chewable herb he could for his journey back, he bid farewell to the small hamlet, not able to cure all their ailments only offer some relief. The matter of a minor chicken plague would have to wait for another day. Helping the tall Ellune get on the horse's back, he sat at the front and told her to put her arms around him. She didn’t know what he meant, so he took her arms and put them around his sizeable waist, good thing she had long arms, hopefully she wouldn’t fall off at her height!

When he sat down he felt just how sore his backside was from the ride, he'd not be sitting straight for two days. “Hellar, I want you to take it easy.” The horses swished its head side to side. “Hellar, take it easy, alright.” The horse said something defiantly in horse-speak, most would say it was unlikely it understood him in anyway. Honathor maintained that animals could understand people, they just stubbornly refused to care some of the time, much like other people.

Off at a run, so much for easy! The concerned Ellune held on for dear life, the pace of the horse doing nothing to settle the poor girl, or his sore posterior. They made good progress through the dark, the steed magnificent in its endurance, one day he would own a horse like this for himself. Everything was going well, as well as it could coming back with no healer. Until he saw the cart again blocking a bridge, and the same two not so friendly faces. He would have ridden around them, but they’d spread several barrels around, and more clutter.

Recognizing him as he got closer, they both seemed very keen to see him! Not these clowns again. “Hold on Luv. Hellar boy forget what I said, run like the wind.” The horse needed no encouragement, it put in a thundering gallop. The two ahead seemed confident behind their barrels this time, waving their weapons angrily. Hellar didn’t care, and nor did Honathor, “tight now,” the Ellune seemed to understand him, and gripped tightly around his stomach.

Closer… Closer… Closer…. nobody was moving, a game of chicken. Right on top of them the smaller of the two jumped out of the way, falling into the nearby stream, and the larger only ducked at the last minute, ending up falling face first into a pile of mud. “Evening gents!” Honathor called, up and over the steed vaulted the barrels, not even breaking its stride. Ooof, the wind was knocked out of him as he landed, landing from luck and horses's superior training, more than skill.

After the last Hullabaloo nothing else much happened on the way home, he thought for a moment the Ellune was sleeping on his back, but paid no notice. When they got back, the injured farmhand was given the herb, chewed and applied by the Ellune, it didn’t magically set his broken foot, but it brought him some relief, so the trip wasn’t a total loss. Finding he had a bit leftover for himself, he offered it back to the woman, but she shook her head.

What was he to do with the lost Ellune?

“City?” She said. “City,” Honathor agreed, as long as it didn't involve horses for a day or so!

Fin for this thread

[Pegasus]

Honathor

Points!:

Story: 5/5
Collaboration: NA (solo thread)
Structure: 5/ 5

Knowledge:

Race: Ellune
Endurance: Riding for any length of time.
Endurance: Getting back on the horse with a sore bottom.
Intimidation: Well timed knuckle cracks
Intimidation: Size, strength and speed.
Location: Village
Location: Healers' house
Mount: Horse: Handling a determined mount.
Mount: Horse: Settling a skittish horse.
Mount: Horse: Clinging on is sometimes the best (and only) option.
Mount: Horse: Giving the horse free rein
Negotiation: Open the door, or I do it my way.
Negotiation: Be calm
Persuasion: Tone of voice to persuade
Unarmed Combat: Shoulder slam
Unarmed Combat: Charge

Loot:

None.

Fame:

+6 (good deeds)

Magic:

These points may NOT be used for arcana

Overview:

General comments. Great fun! I enjoyed this thread and I love your pc!
Story A good story, well written and well paced. Good work!
Structure No bother at all - I was clear on the dialogue all the way through, you managed multiple people talking really well.

Please do PM me if you've got any questions