Sahjaíl swept his gaze over the exhausted and wounded tribe members, he walked over to the one that had the heaviest injuries. The female warrior he had fought with followed him closely, keeping a wary eye on his movements. He couldn’t fault her for that, she was worried about her people and they knew nothing about it. He quickly leveled up so he could get a new healing spell, the cure moderate wounds spell was now available and he chose it, along with foundation of stone, for a second level spell he added animalistic power to his arsenal. He cast the cure moderate wounds spell on the warrior who had a large gash in his stomache, the guts visible but held together by the shaking tribal warrior.

On close inspection he noticed that they weren’t beast men as he had thought at first. They did indeed have beast qualities, like their thick fur and their sharp fangs, their ears however were pointed similar to an elfs. Their skin was a dark green, so definitely not beast-men, more like a mix between beast, human or elf, and goblin. The eyes on the wounded warrior were brown, the female watching over him had green eyes, while the female warrior’s were an icy blue.

A species as individualistic in their appearance as our own. Or humans own I guess, since I'm no longer one of them.

The spell slowly did it work, the moderate spell lasting longer than the minor ones, it healed more damage but took its time in doing so. Seeing the warrior grown in pain put him on edge, he wondered what had happened to these people and where the undead had come from. He doubted the undead were natural inhabitants of this forest, all the creatures he had seen so far had been primal in nature, this tribe included. Yet these undead wore armour and bore weapons, of poor quality yes but this means they have or had access to smithing and iron.

After an seemingly endless minute the warrior was nearly fully healed, there was still a sharp red line on his stomach and it would be tender for a few days. The warrior said something to him, he could tell from the way he said it that it was gratitude. Sahjaíl nodded at the man and moved to the next victim, within fifteen minutes he had run out of healing spells but all the seriously wounded people were now in stable condition, with a few of them back on their feet. The female warrior bowed her head slightly to him and thanked him. He bowed slightly in return and gave her a smile.

She pointed towards herself. “Zi’enna.”

Sahjaíl tapped his chest. “Sahjaíl”

They gave each other a nod before Zi’enna started urging her people up, she started moving them towards a nearby river. He understood her idea to get them settled somewhere easily defensible. Gorat carried one of the warriors who could not stand, Sahjaíl used the hides left in his backpack to make some make shift litters that the tribe could use so they could carry the wounded to the new campsite. He picked up the end of a litter that a young child, that couldn’t have been much older than fourteen picked up the front of the litter and carried the wounded warrior to the campsite with a determined look in his eyes.

He admired the mindset of this tribal people, there was no moaning, no complaining, only the determined look in their eyes telling him they would do anything they had to do to ensure their tribes survival. A close-knit group like this reminded him of the way some poorer families bonded together to ensure their mutual survival. It took them thirty minutes of struggling with the litters to find the campsite, the tribe carefully put their wounded members on the floor, propping them up against some furs, they fetched some water from the river in crude leather flasks and tenderly fed their wounded.

Sahjaíl swept his gaze among the tribe and realised that none of the members could be more than thirty years old, he saw a young couple that couldn’t have been more than his own twenty-two years of age caring for a child that was about eight years old. Then it dawned on him, their elders had probably died protecting the tribe, the way these people looked and thought it was clear to him that the younger generation was the most important to them. Lost in thought he started to help out, grabbing the pelts from the Pitt Panthers from his backpack he put them over the wounded, getting a nod in thanks in return.

Zi’enna walked over to him and started gesturing, he looked at her in confusion. She moved her arms slowly in the air then pointed to the wounds of those still bedridden.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

So shes wondering if I can heal those still wounded.

Sahjaíl shook his head then pointed at the sun, he pointed to the horizon indicating the sun going down, then pointed to the other side where it would return to the sky. He then made the same gesture in the air that she had done thinking it indicated magic. Although it was a rough form of communication she understood what he meant. She walked over to another of her people groaning in pain and grabbed the tribes-womans hand in her remaining one. She started softly whispering words of comfort to the woman, a warrior like herself.

Tearing his eyes from the sight he looked for Immi, finding her sitting on Gorat. As he walked closer he had to stretch his neck back, the golem had grown at least a meter, it was now easily two heads taller than he was. He remembered reading that the golem would grown in strength every fourth level but had forgotten about it. It showed how much he had gotten used to this place that it didn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Immi can you heal them like you healed me?” He asked

She cocked her head, looking at him for a moment then shook her head.

“Sasa majic.” She pointed to the tribesmen shaking her head. “Sini majic.”

So she used the magic inside me somehow to heal me, and can't do the same for the tribesmen.

He sighed as he realised he really wouldn’t be able to heal them until come morning. It bothered him that he could be of no help, it always bothered him when he couldn’t help others as much as he wanted to. He had to make do with what he could, he helped the tribe bring water to the wounded, helped them create some minor defenses. He showed the tribe how he had used the branches to create a caltrop and how they could use it slow down their enemies and how they would function as a funnel or barricade if used properly. The tribe seemed to like the caltrops and got to work on them immediately, In return they taught him how to braid the thin grass they called Waza, in a way that it would be stronger.

They set up a good many of the caltrops around the camp barricading almost all of the clearing but leaving two entrances, the tribe had no food to speak of so after they had created a safe haven, he went out hunting. Two of the warriors understood his intentions and went with him, they moved swiftly and silently through the brush, Sahjaíl was pretty good at stalking a prey but these people had turned it into an art form. He really had to strain to even hear the rustle of the brush beneath their padded feet. Soon enough they came across a small pack of Pitt Panthers, they readied their spears, the two warriors glanced over at him. He nodded and whispered “Entangle.”

This time however the vines did not rip from the ground with a huge amount of force, they snaked from the ground coiling themselves like a snake would and shot swiftly and silently from the ground and dragged their prey to the ground. Sahjaíl and his group rushed forward, frantic eyes of a creature trying to claw its way to freedom stared at him, teeth bared in a snarl. With a swift stab to the heart he ended its life. The warriors with him did the same, the two warriors made short work of the last two. He sling one of the creatures over his back. Gorat who had been following them from a distance stepped forward and picked a pitt panther up in each hand. The two warriors grabbed the remaining pitt panthers and they carried their haul back to camp.

Others in the tribe quickly started to skin the animals and carve the meat. He put his kill on the ground waiting for one of the tribes people to do the same but none of them took the meat. He looked at Zi’enna confused. He pointed to the animal and made a pushing motion in the direction of the tribe with his palms forward, indicating he wanted to give them the meat. She nodded and said something to one of the girls near here who grabbed the animal, the girl avoided his gaze and carefully went to work. He shrugged and started setting up a fire, he dug another cooking pit and lit the fire and put his cooking slab on.

He took as much of the meat as would fit in the slab and started cooking the meat, he added some herbs, soon enough the aroma started to spill around the fire. He noticed that the tribe was looking at him strangely, he realised that none of their members was cooking, or making a fire.

Shit, what if its disrespectful to cook meat you hunted. Maybe they have some sacred ritual I should have followed.

Zi’enna walked up to him and pointed at the meat and then gave him the same confused look he had given her. He took one of the pieces of meat and put it on a plate he had carved from wood, he gave the meat to her. She carefully took a bite, her eyes went wide as her teeth sank into the meat, ravenously she tore at the meal, within seconds she had devoured it. She smacked her lips and her eyes glinted as she eyed another piece of meat. Laughing Sahjaíl gave her another slab of meat, soon enough he was surrounded by others who wanted some of his meat.

Instead he stepped back dug another fire pit and asked Gorat to make him another slab, once the slab was finished he made another pit and pointed to one of the girls and motioned for her to come closer. It was the same girl who had skinned and carved the meat for his kill. He put the meat in the slab and motioned her to do the same, he then added a little water, again gesturing her to repeat his actions. He then pointed at the herbs and carefully spiced up his food, the girl now was paying serious attention and made sure to mimic his every move, she even went so far as to sit in the position and cock her head the same way. He hummed a little when he made the food, he couldn’t help himself not humming or singing while he was cooking just felt off.

Humming Bohemian rhapsody he went about cooking, the girl even started humming the song with him, a split second behind but she was copying the sound pretty well. He smiled at the thought that maybe the whole tribe would be humming Bohemian Rhapsody every time they cooked a meal. He was amazed how fast the girl understood what she was doing, after finishing her first meal she already started teaching others how to do it, and yes she actually did include the Bohemian Rhapsody, maybe they thought it was a magical song that made the food taste better. The thought of it made him chuckle.