Chapter 12-2

The sun was already halfway up the eastern sky when Garkhen arose. He stretched, feeling for the consequences of the last day's battle, but felt nothing. Indeed, he felt rested and whole, just as if he had not been injured or even exerted himself yesterday. Thinking on it, the half-dragon could only conclude that his healing spell-prayer the day before had been more powerful than he had thought. Perhaps Bahamut had lent it extra power. 

Whatever the case, he felt well enough that he could fight again today. He donned his armor, gathered his equipment, and left the tent. The mid-morning sun shone brightly in a clear sky, reflecting brilliantly off of his armor. Looking about, he could see Lt. Ailill coming towards him. 

“Private Garkhen,” the elf began as he neared, “I assume you have enough sense not to wear armor while wounded.”

“Yes, sir,” Garkhen replied. “I am fully recovered.”

“Hmm.” Ailill sounded unconvinced. He looked carefully at Garkhen. Finally he said, “Very well, Private. I will... accept your self-diagnosis.”

He paused a moment longer, then called an aide over. “Take Private Garkhen to the command pavilion.” The lieutenant turned back to Garkhen. “You are to report there if you are well enough to fight. I trust if you think otherwise, you'll report back to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Garkhen responded, then followed his guide through the camp.

It did not take long to reach their destination. Familiar faces waited there, as well as many that were less than familiar. It seemed that all who had fought the Infernals yesterday had again been gathered for this day's battles. Soon Garkhen was again with those he had fought with the previous day. The Wyre grinned at him.

“Good to see you again, Garkhen,” he said.

“And you as well,” Garkhen nodded at him. “I, ah, fear I never asked your name.”

“It's Tirel,” the tiger-man said, extending a hand. Garkhen reached up and shook it. “I guess you don't know any of our names, do you?”

At Garkhen's head-shake, Tirel started pointing at the other members of their group. “That's Jesil, the warrior of Mashano, there's Khera, the mage, and that's Mirthin, the master archer. Quite the little collection, aren't we?”

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Nooooo, it's not an adventuring party...