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[Arlin]

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Arlin watched with a measure in pride as Zechariah and Lucid saluted smartly and snapped to attention as the patrol stopped in front of the Abbey. They quickly responded to his prescense with "Sir!". Arlin returned the salute, and entered the large oaken doors of the Abbey, leaving Javier and the new battle medic Vincent outside to wait. They had been patrolling for awhile now, and he wanted to check up on the progress within the Abbey.

And what progress there had been. The entire west wing of the Abbey had been converted into a fully functional hospital. Katya and Chandra worked tirelessly, with the monks help, preparing aid stations and an emergency room. They looked up and smiled at Arlin as he entered, forgetting to salute in thier rush to return to work. Arlin let it slide, knowing full well that this hospital would have benefits to both the army and the city.

The monks waved cheerfully as the Captain entered the wing, before returning to thier work. Most of the citizens could care less about who ran the city. But if Arlin could prove he had the best of intentions, by helping the people, he could win thier hearts...and thier help.

The half-ogre returned outside, and joined with Sergeant Kharen, before setting off back to the Headquarters, north of the Abbey. Katya soon joined them, and before they had even a few moments to rest after patrolling the city, a pidgeon landed on Arlins shoulder.

He read the note, and bellowed out orders for the troops to mount up and arm up. They descended on the Abbey quickly, and as they rounded the front of the large building, they were greeted with an orc, gloating over the corpses of Lucid and Zechariah.

Arlin let out an inhumane bellow, and charged at the orc, his Scimitar slicing into thin air as the orc seemed to disappear in front of him. Not to be discouraged, he charged inside with his troops in tow...and was greeted with the grunting and howling of orcs....lots and lots of orcs. Weilding lots and lots of big weapons. He raised his scimitar, and charged at the nearest one, knowing full well what the outcome of the battle would be.

Several minutes later, the orcs left the Abbey for thier home. The dead and injured Frontiersmen were carried to thier newly made hospital and treated for thier injures. Arlin moved amonsted the wounded, he himself nursing a nasty blow to the chest from an orcish warhammer.

Arlin slammed his massive fists into a nearby wall, cracking the ancient stone. He had just taken this city, and he would not be subjected to raids from orcs. If they had the audacity to travel to his city and attack his abbey, then he would respond in kind.

Only he would go to stay. Arlin smirked, and called his officers in for a meeting. They were to prepare to an expadition to Felluca, to attack the orcs. All reserves were to be called up, and all leave cancelled.

The orcs wanted war. They would get war.
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As the fire fades to night, remember always the ember that started it all.

[Katya]

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Katya bent over the injured soldier, tending to his wounds with efficient, brusque care. She wished she could spend more time looking over him, but the next sickbed called…and the next, and the next… Earlier in the evening, when she had proposed the idea of a hospital to the Captain, she had pictured herself helping the citizens of Yew…not immediately tending to the battered soldiers.

After she and Chandra had made their first examination of the Abbey, she had ridden back to the Army headquarters to requisition new medical supplies. That was when the summons arrived...a pigeon for the Captain that made him grow pale. He immediately ordered the soldiers to their mounts, their weapons drawn. The troops rode swiftly through the tightly placed houses, until they stood before the Abbey. Katya waited in formation with the others, terrified at the sound of inhuman howls coming from within the Abbey’s thick stone walls. The Captain rode forward, and at his signal, the soldiers moved.

The frontiersmen poured in through the front door…and though they were few in number, they fought valiantly before being cut down. Katya darted from soldier to soldier, trying to heal…but before she could even wrap a bandage around a wound, she was attacked by a particularly gruesome orc. Two blows, and she lay on the floor gasping, saying the chivalrous words of healing over and over, until she could walk again. By that time, the orcs were gone, and the ambushed Frontiersmen lay groaning and bleeding upon the Abbey floor.

“Take them to the hospital rooms,” she barked at a few monks that had emerged from their hiding places. The men nodded and carried the injured soldiers to the freshly made beds. Katya leaned over each in turn, trying to gauge the extent of their injuries. At one point, she turned to see the Captain standing there. Of course, he had refused to let Katya see the extent of his own injuries...he was only concerned with the welfare of the soldiers. She had to admit, the men seemed to take comfort in his presence.

At a lull in her duties, she whirled to face him. “Orcs? Here?”

He nodded grimly, then left the room without a word. She watched him go, then looked back at the room of injured men. All would heal, and if Chandra, Vincent and she had any say in it, the wounds would heal quickly. Katya simply wondered what another fight would bring…no, a war. She looked down at her blood-covered hands…they were shaking. A war?

She hardly claimed to be a religious person, but at that moment, she whispered a quick prayer to whatever being might watch over the world of men. Watch over us, and Yew, she mumbled under her breath, then turned to the next wounded man. It was all she could do.