The forest is silent after the violent baptism of the Asylumites. The evidence of their gruesome pre-dawn work now feeding the roots of the surrounding trees.

Menden's own blood mingles with that of his victim, bringing balance to the offerings to the birthing dawn.

Walks over to check and see if he can do anything for Menden.
hey, what can I do to help you.
Is arrow in arm? Glancing blow? Thru and thru?

The arrow is in his shoulder and Kalve knows nothing of medicine.

Neldi gets everyone together back in the camp and frowns unhappily at the arrow sticking out of Menden's arm.  "Every step I take on this expedition, I find myself wishing I'd made different choices... like buying a healing kit, or hiring a guide so we don't need one in the first place."  He sighs and gets Menden to lay down, "We can't do much to treat the wound, but I do know that the arrow has to come out. Here, bite down on this," He hands the man a folded strap from his backpack, and gets Telorn and the others to hold Menden while he pulls the arrow out, then presses what used to be one of his spare shirts against the wound.

Before going back to camp checks to see what all the archer had on our with him.  ie: armor, weapon, coin purse, and backpack.

Leather armor, a bow, quiver w/ half a dozen arrows, a hatchet, basic clothes, a cloak, a belt pouch with 5 bits in it.

Take it all back to camp with us, except clothes unless they look better than Telorn's.

When back at camp toss belt pouch to Telron, you killed him this is all yours.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:03, Tue 11 May 2021.

Telorn hands the pouch over to Menden, the look on his face says quite clearly he isn't at all comfortable with this.

Alarven followed Neldi back to the camp, visibly a bit shaken as the excitement faded. While the others were pulling the arrow, he had gotten his things together to be waiting in the wings- nudging Neldi aside.

"Just like a doll... made of meat... don't think of the blood..." is muttered in a whisper quietly, as he rinsed the area with a dash from a waterskin and sewed the area shut. He tries to not leave too much of a noticable raised seam.

When Kalve returned to the campsite with the bloodstained belongings of the archer, Alarven has grown somewhat pale.

Wheezing against the pain of his wound and wiping the blood from his hands and dagger on the leaf litter, “You can’t beat yourself up, Neldi.  None of us have ever done...  any of this before.  Mistakes will be made.”

He sighs looking out into the darkness, “It’s the same as killing a wolf that is attacking a flock.. He shakes his head, They have stained their souls with greed.  We have simply helped that one return faster.”

Neldi nods, looking over the items looted from the dead bandit.  "It's... humbling... to see a life reduced to this, and to think of all the choices that lead to their death."  He sighs and portions out the bits, one to each man.

"The armor should go to whichever of us wants to be the... The one that wants to stand up and fight face to face... And the bow and arrows to whomever feels they can best use them. I'd personally like to take the hatchet, or trade it with one of you for an extra dagger."

"I will take his boot, pants, and shirt. There will always be need of cloth, and I can use it for scraps if needed."

Alarven looks settled by Mendens words, but only slightly. "I was raised to avoid unnecessary killing. Only in most dire self defense, or for food. Never for sport. I would not say that ... what happened here, was sport... but that I wish we had been given another way. We tried, right..?"

"Menden... can you make heads or tails of the book?"