Lay of the Land

[Djute]

Though Djute heard Zach say something off to his side, his focus remained firmly on the bandit who clearly meant to cleave his head from his neck. Djute gulped, bracing for the attack he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold back. As the axeman bore down on him, he prepared to parry a frontal attack and gain the upper hand. However, his attacker caught him off guard as he sidestepped to Djute's left and used the moment gained in the maneuver to swing the axe at full speed, directly at Djute's neck. Luckily, he had just enough time to raise his left shoulder and use the large pauldron he wore there to block the blow. The axe met armor with a loud clang. The force of the blow, while not enough to significantly damage the armor, sent Djute reeling to the ground.

He crashed down onto his back, his shoulder screaming out from the pain. He could already tell that his arm would be covered in a garish bruise by morning. Nonetheless, there was no time to think about that now. Obviously disappointed with the lack of headless neck stumps on his opponent, the bandit took three quick steps toward him and leaped into the air, intending to use the forces of gravity to drive his axe into his opponent. Djute's eyes flew wide open in terror. It dawned on him that, for the first time in his life, someone was actively trying to kill him and that thought legitimately scared hm. It also dawned on him that his right arm had begun to lift his sword into the air on a trajectory that would come between him and his attacked before the axe got anywhere near his body. The axeman appeared just as surprised as Djute, especially as the sword cut across his belly, opening a deep wound that would certainly prove fatal if not treated. The blow knocked the bandit down from his jump and he landed a few feet from Djute, moaning in pain. Moving as if by instinct, Djute rolled towards his attacker and moved up onto his knees. Raising his sword above his head, Djute plunged the blade down into the man's chest, then twisted the blade. A short, gasping breath escaped the man, then he seemed to let go and lie still. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, then it dawned on Djute what he had just done. He had just ended his first life.

Time came rushing back to hm as he heard one of the other bandits call out. Something about finding someone. One of the other members of the group must have heard the commotion and come to see what was going on, only to be blindsided by an assailant. From what Djute could tell, they were in danger and needed help. Rising to his feet, he turned to see that Zach had already dispatched one of the attackers. "Zach!" he called to his companion, "I can handle this joker. Someone over there needs help," he added, pointing to where he had heard the voice.

[Zacharia]

Zach flung his head in the direction Djute had so kindly laid out for him. The smell alone provided a path through the foilage. It also helped that whatever the assailed...girl(?) was carrying, gave off a faint glow. Maybe they were a medic of some sort. Or a priest. Garoche did owe a priest something in the beginning. Zacharia took off running, the man was armed with a long knife or a short sword or...damn it's hard to see at midnight. "Hey! I found one! Looks like a little weakling. Should I kill him?!" A far-off voice answered his call in turn. "Go ahead, rip him apart!" Whatever the hell he had, it was about to guillotine the poor guy/girl.

Zacharia steeled himself for what could be a very bad situation, to say the least. He picked up his speed, while prepping his mind for another spell. The thought formed into matter, and matter into dark ball of death and sadness. He was holding a concentrated sphere of the elder magic, and he had to get rid of it fast. It was like playing eXtreme Hot Potato, basically. He lobbed it at the unsuspecting man and gave a short but sharp whistle to get his attention. As he turned to glance at the boy, he got the full force of the dark blast. He didn't think it would hurt the guy that bad, but he forgot to account for velocity apparently. He coulda sworn he heard the guy's neck crack as the blade fell from his hand. It impaled itself in the ground precariously close to the captive's robes as the guy wobbled backwards and toppled to the ground. It didn't matter if he was dead or not, the other one was safe. He looked familiar too. He was the priest from earlier! Ahh, that's why he looked familiar. He couldn't remember the name, but whoever he was looked like he wanted to topple over too. "Hey, you alright? There's a bunch of bandits attacking, you need to get-- actually, wait. I need you to go wake up the big beefy guy with the sword. Think you can do that?" He said in-between breaths. "I'm Zach, by the way. Thanks!" He called over his shoulder as he ran to go back and join up with Djute and nearly tripped over a gnarled root he jumped over the first time passing it. It wasn't the best thing to say for a first encounter, but he was a little pressed time-wise.

[Garrett]

"Go ahead, rip him apart!" The order was given, and the man was more then happy to oblige. Garrett squirmed, he kicked, cried but it was worthless. He was being pressed so hard into the tree the bark was beginning to cut into his flesh, a fat and powerful hand grabbing at his neck and holding him in the air. His feet couldn't reach the earth, and he couldn't do a thing about it. He gasped he tried but he couldn't breath and the only thing he could smell was that man who would end his life. The man's eyes were mad as he raised the heavy axe, it gleaming in the night like the scythe of death itself. Was this really it? He always assumed he'd die in bed with a fever. Here it came and he couldn't help but close his eyes, he didn't want to see the death coming.

It never happened. The sickening thud of the axe meeting flesh, the life seeping from his frail corpse, the blood oozing from where his head once was. No, no that didn't happen. There was a thud, but it wasn't the one he expected, followed with a sickening crack and a final squelching sound of a blade hitting flesh that wasn't his own. He suddenly could breath again, his body falling lightly to the ground a foot or so, collapsed on the wet earth sucking in as much air as possible only to cough it back out a second later. Grabbing at his own throat, he could still feel the hand wrapped around it even after it was long gone. He looked around worried, what could have happened? Who, what, how did he get saved? His answer came in the form of a collapsed man and another speaking at speeds he could barely understand. "Hey, you alright? There's a bunch of bandits attacking, you need to get-- actually, wait. I need you to go wake up the big beefy guy with the sword. Think you can do that? I'm Zach, by the way. Thanks!"

He just looked at the man running away, confused for a moment. Then it suddenly clicked what he asked, the shock of the moment wearing off. Scrambling back to his feet he turned and ran as fast as his weak legs could carry him.

[Djute]

As Zach ran off to rescue the bandit's latest victim, Djute turned his focus back to the remaining bandit. He could tell that man was just a little bit nervous but he raised his blade regardless and charged, shouting his version of some battle cry. Djute was unfazed, however, and assumed a defensive stance, ready to block any incoming attack. The bandit, unsure of how to best combat his opponent, attempted a horizontal strike that was easily parried, and Djute made a stab at his arm. Sword pierced flesh and his attacker screamed out in pain as he doubled back. Djute saw this as an ample time to press his advantage and charged the man. He leaped into the air and brought his sword down hard on his opponent. The bandit, however, seemed to have overstated the pain he suffered, perhaps intentionally, and had caught the young cartographer off guard by returning the favor and stabbing Djute's left arm. Pain exploded anew from his already battered limb and it went limp as he landed and rolled away from his attacker. Rising to his feet, he turned to find his opponent was nearly upon him. With only one hand on the sword, Djute was finding it harder to control the blade and his first strike was a wild downward slash that the bandit easily parried. His attacker pressed the attack and made a vertical swipe. Barely blocking in time, he pushed back against the bandit, knocking him off balance. Desperate to end the battle, Djute made one last wild swing, slitting the man's throat. He collapsed, breath gurgling, and lay on the ground, choking for several moments before the sound suddenly cut off and he was gone.

Djute fell to his knees, exhausted, battered, and distressed, and let out the longest sigh of his life. So that's what real combat is like, he thought. If it's that difficult to kill someone every time, I'm not sure how I'll fare the next time around. He sat there for another moment, feeling the soreness creep into his body, then rose slowly and moved to investigate the bodies. Who were these men and why attack random people in the middle of the woods? It didn't seem to make sense. He began to check the body of the bandit he had just killed, but found little more than stale bread. Undeterred, he checked the first bandit, and after a brief search, found a letter on the body. As it was too dark to read it, he headed back to where he and Zach had been seated to grab a torch.

[Zacharia]

So that was...two or three out of five or six? Gods, this forest was annoying. It was dark, but how'd he circle around the same thing two times without even noticing? He wiped his soot stained hands on the bark and looked for any source of light that would show the way back. The complete opposite position of where he was, there were the two torches by the log that the pair set down. The remaining bandits probably fled or went and hid, judging from the sound of Djute flooring them stopping. The rain had also stopped falling, and hopefully it would stay that way for right now. He slowed his pace down to a walk so his heart would stop pounding like a kettledrum. Djute was also walking over to the log, holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"Hey Djute, was that all of them? That can't be. There's only three corpses that I saw out of the others." There was the two with the bad breath, the one that just died, and... ohh, only one more guy. Must've fled, but knowing bandits he'd have to be hunt down or he'd find another group to chase after them. "Wait. Oh no..the medic's gonna go wake up the mercenary; perfect." It was his shift along with Garoche's next, but that wasn't for at least four more hours. Maybe they could coax him into looking for the other bandit? He couldn't tell which was their leader, they all looked alike dress-wise. His attention turned to what was in Djute's hand, nevermind his limp arm. "I'm gonna guess you plucked that from one of them. What's it say?"

[Garrett]

He gasped for breath between each heavy movement of his legs, his chest was on fire and his legs didn't want to respond, still he pushed himself further on still. He pushed his body until it wouldn't move any more, and then pushed his self on more ever still. He wasn't going to let his weakness allow other people to come to harm, if there was life yet in this ragged body, he would not give up. Still, even willpower strong enough to move a mountain cannot overcome the sheer reality of the situation, his steps were slow and closer to a hasty walk then any kind of sprint. His body felt like lead moving through the sea, each move languid and slow enough that it would be hard to mistake what he was doing for 'hurrying'. Still he didn't stop moving, even after he fell to his knees in a violent fit of coughs, he picked his self up and continued to move. The camp wasn't too far away, but he simply couldn't move that fast. Hopefully...

The mercenary was sound asleep when the boy burst into his tent falling on his hands and knees, gasping for are so loudly that it woke from his slumber. He was confused, but looking at the kid who just intruded he knew that it wasn't danger. If he wanted he'd just have to nudge him with his foot and he'd probably keel over and have a heart attack. His robe clinging to his body from what was either rain or sweat, he couldn't even speak between the heavy gasps of air. "This better be goddamned important." He growled at the boy as he tried to form words.

"Buh... ban... the... ah... buh..." Garrett tried to speak but he was constantly interrupted by his own heavy gasps for air. Still it wasn't even necessary because after a second or two of staring at him, the mercenary suddenly realized something.

"Bandits? Damnit!" He cursed after noticing the blood splattered on the boy's robe, and in less then a minute he was up on his feet with his weapon in hand. "Where are they?!" He burst from his tent, looking around wildly. Though, noticing he was conspicuously alone, he looked at the kid still trying to catch his breath. Rolling his eyes and growling. "I don't have time for this." He was just about to leave the kid and go on his own when he noticed that he was holding a staff. Ah yes, he was that cleric kid who spent the most of the trip trailing behind and sleeping. If he was a cleric then he could be useful... "Just..." He began but sighed, wiping his hand through his hair in annoyance before walking over to the frail boy. "Just point me in the direction, I'll get us there." Putting his blade on his back, he knelt down and picked the weak burden up in his arms. He was... incredibly light actually, the robe made him look bigger then he was. He's carried women that weighed more then him.

Garrett felt embarrassed that his weakness was causing even more trouble, but he smiled anyways. "Than.. you..." The mercenary rolled his eyes with a huff. He was a gruff looking man, but Garrett could tell he wasn't a bad person. "That way..." He pointed his staff head in a direction and off the two went, moving much faster then Garrett ever could alone.

[Djute]

As Djute made it back to where he and Zach had been keeping watch, his companion came running out of the brush. He looked like he was rather confused, and with how dark it was in the forest, he couldn't blame him. He himself wasn't quite sure if they had gotten all of the bandits. All Djute knew was that nobody had tried to kill him when he had finished off the last bandit and that had been enough for him. As long as they hadn't found their way into the camp it wouldn't be an issue. They might try to attack them on the road tomorrow, but the entire group would be awake then, and it would essentially be suicide for the bandits. The more pressing matter at the moment was the note he had found. He tried to reach for a torch, but a screaming pain from his left arm quickly reminded him that only his right arm was currently willing to do much of anything. Setting the scrap of parchment down on the log, he grabbed the torch with his other arm and held it close to the note. It was instantly apparent that the letter had been damaged by both the rain and the man's blood. Only a few words were clearly visible. "Payment," "forest,' "east," and "stop" were some of the legible words but there were two that especially caught his eye. At the bottom of the note read Lucky Lords, which stood out not only because both words were capitalized, but also because it was written as a signature, rather than written simply, like the rest of the words. Curious and curiouser.

"It's too badly damaged. I can only make out a couple of words," Djute replied glumly. "There's something strange about these words, though," he added, pointing at the bottom. "See? They're capitalized. You wouldn't do that with any old word in a sentence, unless it meant something important. What it means is beyond me, though. Maybe Garoche'll have an idea." At that moment, a familiar figure came trotting up the path, though he was moving rather strangely. As he got closer, Djute realized it was because he was carrying somebody. As he came up to Zach and Djute, he put the boy down, then said in a gruff voice, "The bandits. Where are they?" Djute wasn't really sure, but he didn't want the mercenary to have gotten up for nothing, so he pointed in the general direction of where they had come from. The mercenary nodded and jogged off in that direction.

[Zacharia]

"Dunno what any of that stuff means, to be honest. Lucky Lords does sound like some kind of company to me." He leaned in closer, but Djute's arm flat-out appalled him. Whatever the Swordsman was cut with must've been rusty or dull because the arm would definitely not be there if it were sharpened correctly. They had no healing items of any note except for-- Where was the medic? Right as the thought passed through his mind, the mercenary burst into the clearing, and after dumping some lump on the ground, he took off. The lump started wriggling, and sounded like they were choking to death. Was that Garrett? Geez, he looked like a wreck.

Zacharia breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the burly man slice his way through the foliage until he wasn't visible anymore. "Sorry about that, medic guy. Didn't mean to tire you out for nothing." He felt bad for the guy heaving on the ground, but they had bigger fish to fry. Mainly, getting him back to his tent before he vomited or whatever it was his body was trying to spew. Zacharia stood up and tried to lift him back on to his feet. Neither of the two were strong, which simultaneously made it harder and easier to scoop him up. With a great big grunt, he was able to lift Garrett off the ground and set him down on the log. "You should definitely get him to check your arm, Djute. Looks like a moldy piece of bread and I can hardly see it in the torchlight. I'll get him back to his place if the mercenary doesn't come back before Garrett's finished." He was adamant about the arm, if only so he could stop seeing it. It was so...ick.

[Garrett]

The mercenary had scuttled off, and Garrett was left there with the other two. Thankfully bandit free, he wasn't sure he could run again in his current condition. His body ached and his chest was on fire, but he grinned as the two went through all that trouble to get him some place to sit, how kind of them. "Thank you." He looked over to the two from his little seat on the log, his body was soaked with mud and rain from when he tripped earlier and his whole body felt almost frigid from the cold, but he was still living and that was something. The robed man began to whisper to the swordsman about something, but Garrett couldn't hear it. His ears felt like they had water in them, everything was sort of muffled, but even in this dingy light cast by the weak torchfire he could tell that the swordsman was injured. "You're hurt..." Garrett muttered, almost afraid of the injury. He's never ACTUALLY healed someone else before, his mother was adamant about letting the sick or injured into the home and his teacher never had a chance to actually have him test his abilities. Still Garrett knew he could do it, so he took a deep breath and held his staff in hand. Using it as a crutch and standing on his own two feet. He smiled and looked at the wound for a moment, it was... gross. He was almost kind of jealous, he's never been hurt like that before. "Just stay still, this will only take a second."

He took in a heavy deep breath, then let it out again. Holding his staff in the air, a soothing light began to twinkle down from the tip, filling the immediate area with a soft blue glow. It was focused on the wound, and the actual flesh damage began to unravel as though it was being injured in reverse, the flesh mended as though it was being severed and within a few moments the brunt of the injury was healed. It was strange, it was like watching someone get stabbed by an imaginary blade only instead of rending flesh it healed it. Despite using magic, Garrett wasn't any more exhausted then he had been before, perhaps his physical stamina and magical stamina wasn't connected? Hopefully that was the case, or he'd be quite troubled about how much of a burden he'd be with nothing to give in return. "Alright, that should be better right? We need to get the rest of your arm in a bandage, it may scar over a bit and leave a somewhat worrying bruise, but it will be fine and after a few days you'll have full control over your arm again." He felt good. He did that, him. He just healed this man, it may not of been perfect but he'll only get better and heal better right? He looked so happy with himself, and he turned to the other man. "How about you? Are you injured? Even if it's just something small like a stubbed toe or a bruised arm, I can help. It's best if you're at 100% after all, right?" He then stopped for a moment, thinking. Oh how rude of him. "I'm sorry, my name is Garrett. Thank you for the help earlier, if it wasn't for you I... Well I'd like to not think about it." He held out his arm, open and ready for a handshake. He's never really given someone a handshake before, hopefully it wasn't bad, Garrett didn't really have much of a grip.

[Djute]

When Garret had pointed out his wound, Djute had wanted to protest or say it was nothing, but the cleric had already started healing by the time he thought to say anything. Healing magic was something he had experienced before. Many times he had overexerted himself while taking care of his mother and gone to see the local priest. However, none of those times had been for gaping wounds in his arm and none of them had been this uncomfortable. The feeling of a wound closing, at this speed, was spine tingling at best and made him want to rip the staff from Garret's hands and snap it over his knee. After a time that seemed far too long, the process was finally done. He would need a bandage to help it heal, but that wasn't a dire matter, and could wait for later. Taking Garret's hand and shaking lightly, he introduced himself, "Name's Djute. I'm a cartographer. Don't worry about earlier. I heard someone who needed help. I wasn't gonna leave them to die. I don't think I've seen you are the guildhall. You been with Arcadia's Eyes long?" Despite being in the guild for a couple of months, Djute wasn't actually sure if he had seen Garret around the guild at all. After all, he hadn't noticed Zach until they had left for the expedition. Not that he really associated with any of the guild members anyway. He spent most of his time in his room or outside of the city drawing maps.

[Zacharia]

Zach took off his hood as the rain's drips finally stopped and the half-moon shown bright above them. He ran his hands through his hair to get rid of that tangled mess his hood always left behind. There were occasional tree drops, but you couldn't really do anything about those. He'd heard of a spell that sucked the water from the area and channeled it into energy, but he could never find the correct tome for it. He read somewhere that one of his ancestors owned a copy for a little while, but they ditched it. Whoever they were probably tossed it because of its "dahrck magyyks". Lousy good-for-nothing ancestors. "Oh, I'm feeling fine. Well.. My foot still hurts from when I tripped, but that'll be good tomorrow. Like I said, I'm Zach." He remarked as he clasped Garrett's hand. He wasn't one for violent handshakes, and he felt like if he so much as jerked the medic's arm it would rip off like a piece of paper.

Then he noticed that his hands were still sorta covered in soot. "Oh... whoops. Forgot about that, sorry." He quickly used part of his cloak to wipe the stuff off Garrett's hand. It didn't do much except leave a good sized stain on the fraying fabric. "I'm a mage too, if the giant black ball didn't tip you off." he joked. He was a little wary of Garrett, if only because clerics and shamans never really got along. He didn't look too much like a cleric, but he was still pretty over-dressed for the outdoors. "If you need help getting back, I think I can carry you a bit. You look like you're gonna fall over. Heh, both of you do." When he thought about it, so did he. His breathing had slowed down to the regular in and out again, but he couldn't help but close his eyes every now and then to rest.

[Garrett]

"Actually, you're right." He said as he slyly wiped his own hand on his robe, he let out a small laugh at the comment. "I've only been a member for a few weeks now. Usually they make their new initiates do all kinds of training regiments before they become official members, but they made an exception with me. Since I'm a cleric, I just need to make sure I don't get myself killed really." The was also the fact he collapsed in the middle of the obstacle course and spent the next few days in bed, his fault for trying to do something like that when he wasn't feeling well. "I'm not really a cartographer though, my maps are more akin to squiggles. They told me though that sometimes the more enthusiastic members get themselves hurt mapping." They told him that one time someone basically jumped off a cliff for a better view. Still just because he couldn't map, that didn't mean he couldn't do something right? Maybe he can write something about the places he visits and things he sees? Well something a little more formal then his journal, he doubted they'd wanna read that. "This is, uh, actually my first time on an expedition." He sounded proud of himself, because he was, this was the first step on his journey to see the world!

Still it was rude of him to focus on what Dj said when Zach was also talking as well, so Garrett made sure to turn to him and talk to him as well. "If you hurt your foot, you really should let me take care of it. It won't take more then a second, and it's no bother really." He stopped himself from just doing it without asking. He could understand that some people might not want him to heal such small injuries, but if someone was really hurt like Dj was then there was nothing really that would stop him. Even if they are squeamish, or too proud, or don't like magic and think the feeling of getting healed is awful. They were just being difficult then. He liked to heal people, and as selfish as it sounds, the reason he wanted to help Zach was more for himself then for whatever small pain the shaman felt. It gave Garrett a... a reason, something he was there for, it validated him. Still he wasn't going to force it, that was selfish.

"I'm not really a mage though, I'm a cleric. I mean I guess I could whack someone with my stick, but it's not really the same kind of thing you can do." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. He wanted to be a mage, but he wasn't allowed. Being a cleric was better then just being someone laying in bed everyday. Helping people felt good too, so it wasn't awful or anything, just not his first choice. He took a deep breath on got back his feet, the log leaving some wet woody chunks on the back of his robe. He took a moment to brush them off, but all it really did was spread them around a bit more. "I'm fine, we're not in a rush to head back right?" He had a weary smile, but he wasn't going to allow himself to be a burden anymore. He's already been a huge problem, and he wasn't really eager to continue that trend. He was tired, and his body aching and feeling like it was on fire, but he could move. That's all he needed after all, right? "I can take myself. Thank you though, it's kind of you to offer."

[Djute]

Djute's suspicions were correct.Garrett hadn't been with the guild very long. Still, despite the uncomfortable nature of magical healing, he was glad that they had a cleric. As much as he hated to admit it, the wound he had suffered could have cost him his arm, if not his life had Garrett not been there. "We're not all cartographers here, actually," Djute replied, "To be honest, it's just me and Hammond. Most of the others are pathfinders or archaeologists. I'm still not even sure what Zach does," he added, shooting the mage a joking smirk. Another wave of fatigue hit him and it dawned on him how tired he was. He knew the end of his watch was still a few hours away, but perhaps he could get off early due to his wound. Either way, they would need to go back to Garoche and let him know what happened. The guildmaster was sure to be rather grumpy about being woken up early, but he would want to hear about this. "We should probably get back to the camp," he advised, "Though, we can take our time. I'm in no rush to wake up Garoche." That said, he made his way back to the camp, wishing he hadn't chosen to wear so much armor.

As he expected, Garoche hadn't been too happy, but he thanked Djute for bringing him news of the attack. Soon afterwards, the mercenary returned, reporting that he had found the last bandit, but a pack of wolves had found him first, leaving little to be interrogated. Noticing Djute's wound, Gaorche gave him and Zach the night off and assumed his shift early. The night went on without incident and the company arose early the next morning, ready to continue on their expedition.

[Zacharia]

"Well, you don't look like any warrior I've ever seen, so maybe a little magical self-defense is good. I keep hearing legends about some staff that can summon warriors or something to fight for you. Never know, could be hidden away in a temple somewhere at the bottom of the sea or something like that. I'd say you should keep open to learning magic though; my father always told me to try new things." He stood up to go follow Djute back to camp. Instead of taking a torch and leaving the medic in the dark, he opted to create a little blueish ball in the palm of his hand. It was slightly dimmer than a torch but it would get the job done alright. "G'night, Garrett." He remarked as he rounded the trees and disappeared from sight. Garoche was pretty irritated, but hey they got the rest of the night off right? Also the bandits were dead but no one cares about that. He also bid Djute goodnight as went into his tent and fell asleep with all his clothes on, book clutched to his chest.

--
Zacharia stumbled out of his tent to go wake Djute up, stifling a yawn. All three of them had slept like logs, but five hours of sleep wasn't a lot to go on. As he entered the swordsman's tent, he kneeled down and shook him awake. It took a while to snap him back to reality; must've been quite the dream he was having judging from the satisfied smirk on his face. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. Garoche says it's time to get a move on. Even Garrett's already up and packing his stuff away." He stood up and left the tent to go get ready. He ran his fingers through his hair, thoroughly surprised by all the muck still in it. He really needed to get a bath soon. It took him a while to take the tent down since he hadn't actually done it before, but it wasn't that hard. He realized then that he didn't really have anything to pack except for said tent. He felt a little homesick, even if home was a battlefield at this point.

[Garrett]

"I'm... not sure what you're talking about. I mean there's staves that can summon monsters, but they aren't exactly secret and hidden in temples and stuff. I bet if I had enough money I could buy one." He gave Zach a curious look as he walked beside him, he must be from some weird place. Considering he used magic, it felt weird he knew so little of summoning staves to the point of thinking they were rare and lost to time. "I would love to learn magic some time though, I just... My teacher told me to have a strong soul, you need a strong body. I don't think I could use magic even if I wanted to." He laughed sheepishly, it was definitely something he had in mind and something he wanted to try, but it simply felt so out of reach. So impossible of a goal to achieve. Maybe one day, but not now, he had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. "I'm impressed that you can even do mapping though. I have a hard time wrapping my head around things, how things are in relation to other things. If you ever wanna show me them, I'd be interested in seeing." They moved at a leisurely pace, but Garrett slightly struggled keeping up even with this languid movement. He smiled though, and moved when his body ached, it was from all the running he had done tonight. His whole body is going to ache like it's no one's business tomorrow, but it made him feel alive. He moved more this week then in the last five years it felt.

He didn't know this Garoche person, and the somewhat confused look on his face when he looked at Garrett meant the feeling was mutual. Still he didn't complain, and while she seemed groggy and a bit grumpy, he wasn't mad. Even a bit thankful for the news of the attack, and he thanked Garrett personally for healing Dj. They all said their goodbye and went back to their tents, and it wasn't moments before Garrett's body gave out and slipped into a deep sleep.

---

Garrett was up, a bit later then he wanted. Groaning and stretching and feeling completely awful. His skin felt like ice, but his chest like fire. He moved sluggishly, like he was underwater or moving through some heavy sap. He wanted to cook breakfast for everyone, but it looked like that he was lucky if he could simply follow them. He felt his face, slapping his cheeks. He was probably pale as snow, a little bit of color in his cheeks would help people from worrying about them. His limbs all ached and moaned with every movement, and he winced with even the smallest movements. He heard movements outside his tent, and he knew that they would probably be packing up to leave soon. So he decided to get started early so he didn't finish late. Zach was up soon after, and he wasted no time to heading over to Dj's tent, probably to wake him up. The two must have been friends, and not just working together last night. Must have been nice.