Promises, Promises

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[132] Drondon: Promises, Promises
Fri Aug  5 06:38:57 2011
To: Shalonesti Shalonesti_kingdom Thaxanos Wargar Kyri IMM RP Zandreya All
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He ordered the elves that were capable to aid the new waves of refugees
coming into the city.  These weren't the refugees like the droves.  These
were women and children.  Badly beaten some of them, others clutching
wounds, all covered in ash and soot.  Drondon made it a point to go to the
west of the Vallens, following the new plumes of smoke, and the red tinted
clouds.  He heard the cries and moans of the women, some carrrying small
infants, the children close to their mother's sides.  He noticed what the
scout had told the elves at the pool.  No men.
 
Where soot and ash covered elf came up to him, coughing meekly.  The little
girl tugged lightly at the hem of his leather and chainmail shirt.  The
Songmaster blinked, the anger in his blue orbs melting away to concern and
sadness as he crouched down to the elf's level.  The bruised and tired
looking elf spoke softly, 'There's more...  Lil babies and mama's, my
friend, Roshan, can you help him. 

All Drondon could do was nod.

Promise?   The child coughed again, covering her ashed streaked face with
the back of hand. 

The half elf looked the girl straight in the eyes, 'Promise.   He nodded
then stood straight up, looking at the little elf's mother.  'There's food
and shelter at Her temple.  Take the lil one. 

Drondon tightened the straps at the back of his head, making his faceguard
fit snug against him.  Before the disheveled woman could nod, he was gone.

The smoke billowed from the west, and by the coast.  He passed more
refugees, not a single male elf.  He urged them on, as elves from the city
came and aided them, picking up the wounded, and smaller children. 

He moved deeper into the smoked filled forest, the heat was making him
sweat, his leathers were becoming soaked.  Off a few yards a small clearing,
slowly becoming engulfed by creeping flames, he saw a little pointy eared
boy, sprawled out, bleeding, and whimpering in pain.  He broke out into a
sprint, tugging his sash off as he reached for the boy.  From the smoke,
like a creature of nightmares, a dwarf came forth, raising it's axe, aiming
it's blow at the boy's chest.  Drondon rushed like the winds of Turpa,
snatching the child, hugging him tightly to his chest, rolling before the
axe found it's mark, then breaking into a full run back to the city.
Promise is a promise.   He wrapped his sash around the child's mouth and
nose to keep anymore smoke out of his lungs.  He remembered the beady eyes
of the dwarf and would make a note to see it again soon.