Passing through the heavy doors into the compound, they found themselves in a courtyard, open to the air, in front of the main building. The courtyard was filled with many people, many laying on simple mat bedding, young and old, men and women, wherever room could be found for them. A number of braziers were set up throughout the courtyard, and fires smouldered in them, providing light and warmth as the day faded into night. Constant coughing could be heard throughout the courtyard, and servants in grey robes moved among them, offering drinks and food.

Elmesu called over one of the servants and directed them to take the horses and the cart over to a stables that were set against the wall of the courtyard off to the right as they entered.

“There are sick here?” Chance asked as he looked around at the people huddled around the braziers, blankets draped over their shoulders.

“Yes,” Elmesu told him. “There are too many people here, not enough food and not enough people available to tend to them. Sickness festers and spreads easily through the town despite our best efforts. First, it was the dragon, and then the bandits. Many people have lost hope and so become more susceptible to disease. We do what we can here, but it is not enough.” Her face showed a moment of despair. “Never enough.”

“And have you lost hope?” Chance asked her quietly.

“It hangs by a thread at times. There are times I wish that I could leave, to return home, but then I see those who need my help and know that I can not. I must stay.”

“If I can be of any help, I will do so,” Chance told her. “I have some small healing ability that could be of use.”

“We will take whatever help you can give us,” Elmesu replied before giving him a puzzled sideways look. “You are not what I expected at all.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he replied dryly.

That elicited a small laugh, but even that was tired. “I am fairly new to Estethford myself, and from what I have heard since arriving, neither dwarves nor druids are noted for giving aid to others. The druids are indifferent to anything but the natural world, and the dwarves are preoccupied with their own troubles.”

“Even if I am of both of them, I am not like either of them. I make my own way, set my own path.

Elmesu nodded at that as she led them to a corner of the courtyard. “Sometimes I wish more would do so. This is the best we can do for you, I am afraid,” she apologised. “We can let you have some bedding and blankets to use, but all the other rooms are filled, and more than filled.”

Chance brushed it aside. “We are used to sleeping out in the open upon the ground in our travels, and would not wish to deprive others of their beds.”

“We have some bread and cheese and soup to share,” Elmesu went on. “That is the best that we can manage, and is what everyone here eats.”

“I could probably help out with that,” Snarl said with a grin. “I have a thing or two that could be added in, to improve on the flavour and the texture of the soup.”

Elmesu looked up at the tall gnoll. “You can help?”

“He does all of our cooking,” Chance told her. “One of these days we might be able to get him to make a proper meal for you and then you can judge how good he is at it for yourself.”

Elmesu smiled faintly at that. “If the crisis here ever ends, I would look forward to it. If you will excuse me now, I have much to attend to before the day is done.”

“Thanks for all that you have done,” Chance replied.

Elemsu nodded and headed off, looking weary as she did, her step slow. Chance and his friends set their gear down. A short while later a servant in grey robes came out of the main building, carrying bedding and blankets to use, while a second came with a tray with some bowls of soup, chunks of bread and cheese and a large bone with a few strands of meat on it.

They settled down there for the night, eating their food and looking out over the huddled groups around the courtyard. Chance could hear Shags complaining as he gnawed on the bone, his mental thoughts muttering that he was a wolf, not a dog.

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“It seems to be worse here than I had feared,” Chance noted as he slowly chewed a piece of the hard cheese.

The whole place is awash with fear, Shags reported. Fear and despair. They have lost hope.

“The paladin at least appears to have a level head on her shoulders,” Snarl noted.

“She is tired, though,” Yrip pointed out. “A lot to do and little time for it. She needs a rest but she is too driven by the need to help.”

“Little wonder,” Chance replied. “You have to see just here what she is dealing with, and almost alone, to know why she is tired.” He set aside his bowl and pushed himself back up to his feet. “I am going to see what I can do to help,” he announced.

He headed out through the crowds, stopping at each cluster of people, talking to them, finding out their ills and needs and ailments. Where required, he used his Nature’s Breeze, spell, calling up the healing mists to rest upon people, healing what wounds that he could, though it could not deal with any sickness they had. There were a lot of ills to see to though, and the more that he used the magic, the more tired he got, each casting sapping away at his strength until exhaustion brought him to a halt. He needed rest, to recover, before he could continue on, for despite the numbers he had tended to, he had not covered the whole courtyard, let alone the building and those that were inside.

He trudged back over to rejoin the others, sitting back down with them. Taking up a waterskin, he drank deeply from it. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can understand why she is so tired, he said wearily. “Trying to heal so many is draining.”

“There must be a better way,” Yrip stated. “More that we can do.”

“Getting rid of the bandits is the best hope for these people,” Snarl noted.

Chance sighed. “You might be right about that. I would hope that the others might be as reasonable as Daf and his lot were, but that is probably being far too optimistic.”

Almost certainly, Shags added. Your charms might not work so well on the next lot.

Chance grimaced at the thought, but before he could say anything, there came a loud banging on the doors of the compound, from someone out on the street seeking entrance. All around the courtyard, people stirred and murmured, disturbed from their rest. Eyes turned toward the doors.

Elmesu emerged from out of the main buildings. She had removed her mail shirt, and wore no shoes, but was still otherwise dressed and carried her sheathed sword in her hands. A servant followed after her, carrying a lantern to provide light. She hurried towards the doorway. As she did, Chance pushed himself up to his feet with his staff, and started to make his way over to join her.

The doors were opened and a couple of men entered, carrying a third between them. Chance could see blood over him, his shirt gashed open and a nasty wound on his side.

“What happened?” Elmesu asked as she rested a hand on the man’s brow, looking him over.

“Bandits,” one of the men replied. “There was an ambush just outside of town.” The two of them set the man carefully down on the ground, allowing Elmesu a closer look at him. The servant held the lantern up over him.

“There were others?” Elmesu asked as she knelt down beside the wounded man.

There was a shake of the head in response. “Not anymore. The others were killed. Only this one was left alive.”

“If you could call it that,” the other man added.

Chance saw the tightening of Elmesu’s face. “If he makes it through the night, he might survive. I do not like his chances. We will make him comfortable and do what we can for him.”

“Let me look at him,” Chance spoke up, going down on one knee on the other side of the man from Elemsu, leaning against his staff.

Elmesu looked up at him. “You spoke of having healing magic.”

Chance nodded. ‘I have some small ability with it, though I have wearied myself from already helping those in need here. I will do what I can for him though.” He reached out a hand towards the wounded man, trying to draw in the power despite the bone tiredness that rested upon him. It resisted his efforts, and try as he might he couldn’t quite grasp it.

The man on the ground began to cough and blood came up with it, trickling down his lips. He was dying before Chance’s eyes, and the old, familiar anger came back to him, the anger that had long been part of his life, washing away his tiredness. There had been too much death, too much misery and it angered him deeply, the unfairness of it all.

Uthaq!

Damage Healed: Low

Health Remaining Unknown.

Injuries: None.

The man shuddered as the healing energy flowed from Chance into the man, and a wave of exhaustion swept over him. The coughing ceased and he seemed to breathe easier. The gash in his side partially knitted together as the magic washed over it. Chance’s head slumped down as Elmesu inspected the man. “He lives,” she said. “He is stable. Quick, help me get him inside where we can look after him better.”

The two men lifted him up again.

“Thank you,” Elmesu said to Chance as she started to lead the men away.

Chance smiled faintly, tiredly. “You are welcome.”