Ordinary heroes;
Regular Guardsman Kas Valentine.
Watchman Torrak Keres.
Injured;
Commoner Gracenda Arroway.
After a hard day of sitting at the barracks, taking orphans shopping and fighting off Orcish I decided to stop by the Port for a drink. I spoke to Grace for a while about matters of a Covian nature and then headed off into town. Naturally I was minding my own business, fetching some herbs from my safe deposit box and generally relaxing when.....
KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM !
Shortly followed by (and at even greater volume)......
KERBLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMO !
The ground beneath my very feet was rocked by the force of the blast and I observed masonry falling from the sky near the walls of Cove. Breaking into a run I headed for the vast plume of smoke I saw spewing into the air around the general vicinity of Port Valentine. My mind went into overdrive as I sprinted, what had happened? A meteor cast from the heavens...? Some strange form of pyrotechnic art....? A mixture of ego's, all in the same room and then asked "who wants to be the leader".....?
Basically I didn't have a clue so I increased my pace and arrived at the scene of destruction.
The building was a lightshow of red, yellow and orange. Flames licked at the bar furniture and the whole front of the house had literally been torn away. Obviously my first concern (after securing the safety of my hair) was to run in and search for Grace. I didn't know if she'd been in attendance at the time but I thought I'd damn well better check.
Instantly my throat was choked by noxious fumes of the distinctly black and thick variety. I spluttered my way forwards, shielding my face from the intensity of the heat. In the corner, lying amongst broken floor tiles, I found Arroway with her hair and clothes charred. With a swift movement I threw the woman over my shoulder and jumped dramatically through some flames to vacate the building.
"
Grace!?" I called out in a forlorn (yet heroic) tone of voice.
She was out cold and I was going to have to attempt to resuscitate her in some way. I'm not very schooled in this area so first of all I tried shaking her by the shoulders. Nothing happened, so I shouted some more. Still no response. I lost my cool for a split second and went all cross eyed until I realised she needed to breathe if I was going to save her. Lowering my mouth to hers I blew with all my might.
She coughed !
It had the desired effect !
Picking her back up I waddled over to the hospital, kicked the door in and laid the victim out on a bed. Blood was coming from somewhere since my gloves and tunic were soaked so I searched her soot covered clothing until I found the source. A three inch chunk of quality oak was lodged in the small of her back. The sight of this caused considerable worry, they were 'ruddy good tables.
I swallowed my fear and pulled out some scissors, cutting away the damaged garment. The beefy splinter came out with ease but now I had another problem....
The bleeding increased ten fold.
Bundling over to the shelves I filled my arms with as many healing lotions as I could carry, plus a good stack of bandages. Settling down by the bed I tried to steady my trembling hands to go about the business of sealing her wound. What this entailed was......
- Wiping the skin clean with a fresh bandage and some water.
- Emptying a full bottle of sticky yellow gunk over Grace's back.
- Smoothing it into the main gash caused by the projectile.
- Making a massive gory mess.
- Staring blankly until the bleeding finally stopped.
- Tending to the smaller cuts across her shoulders.
- Mopping dried blood from the general area.
- Washing it more thoroughly.
- Double wrapping her stomach and chest extremely tightly.
- Applying a full bottle of pungent orange liquid to the dressing
- Quadruple wrapping her stomach and chest gently.
With the worst of the operation out of the way I set to work on waking my patient (she had passed out again due to the amateur nature of my attentions). The poor girl was dead to the world so I tried some of the techniques I had earlier. I shook her, I shouted at her, I blew in her, I begged her then I lost it and slapped her.
"
What the 'ell just happened!?"
She was alive !
With great relief I explained how I'd found her before asking about the cause of the detonation. Apparently she had been trying to brew up a new beverage called "Elixir of Hoagie" with obviously dire results. Arroway's first concern was to rush to the tavern, but I managed to convince her otherwise by forcing her down on the bed. The place was a wreck, a veritable toxic inferno, s'no way I was allowing anyone near that.
At this point Torrak arrived.
"
BRRRRAAAGGGGHHHHHH GOBBLY GOBBLY" he screamed, pointing accusingly at the burning building. I looked to Grace with a glint in my eye and she nodded her approval.....
WE WOULD ATTEMPT TO EXTINGUISH THE BLAZE !
With our collars tugged up and a selection of empty pitchers in tow we strode bravely into the breach. I volunteered to fill the jugs while Torrak threw them over the fire, like a really rubbish human chain. It seemed to work but before long we realised we'd have to get into the ruins proper. We topped up as many containers as possible and placed them outside the doors.
"
S'do this thing"
The two of us bust into the joint and doused flames to the best of our ability. It was dark, it was painful and the wind was against us but we were not deterred. Before long the whole of the ground floor was soggy and sizzling but combustion continued upstairs. However since we could actually glance the night sky through the giant hole in the roof we decided it would be better to simply bring the place down. Jabbing with halberds was involved, as well as running and screaming like little girls.
After and hour long battle we looked upon a pile of rubble, smoking timber and the largest waste of alcohol in the history of Britannia.
We had saved the day (albeit at the expense of the establishment).
As I write this Gracenda should be recovering in the hospital.
Let this be a lesson to all Covians......
"
If you mix illicit liquor in a basic home cooking appliance, you risk blowing your face off."
Please note that I am still suffering from the aftereffects of my body pumping with adrenalin hence some elements of this tale may have been embellished upon.
(Excuse the poor nature of the sketches, I dropped charcoal in my paints)
Signed in squiggly handwriting,
Regular Firefighter Guardsman Kas Valentine.
Author