Wet Rag

1628, Earth Season, Fertility Week, Windday


Near Aldu-Chur, in the Healers’ Camp after the battle. Berra is as drunk and limp as a wet rag. Varanis attempts to get a bit of water into her. Follows after Tamakt Tucked Away.

Post Epic battles lead to epic hangovers (Session Sartar Arc 2).

Final log of the series that began with Not Dead Yet. Events pick up in Aftermath.


Outside the tent, a little after midnight, the Lunar voices start growing.  Prisoners are being treated.

Varanis had dozed off briefly, having allowed herself to sit for a time. At the sound of New Pelorian and Lunar-accented Heortling, she snaps awake, drawing her sword a little clumsily. She lurches to her feet, searching for danger. On finding none, she starts to re-sheathe her blade, but then shakes her head. It’s staying out. Neither Berra nor Tamakt react.

Having resumed pacing, Varanis stumbles to a sudden stop. Searching around the tent turns up a jug of water from which she takes a small drink. Then she stares at Berra.1Pass First Aid

Berra is tucked under her hide, of course.  Just her hand and Wind Tooth can be seen.

The sword gets put away and then, with the jug in one hand, Varanis searches for and finds a clean rag. Lucky for her, Maalira left more than a few behind. She crouches down by the head-end of the sleeping ball of Berra and attempts to peel back the sleeping hide.

Berra looks up at Varanis, confused.  Her grip changes briefly on her sword, and then she relaxes.

Intent grey eyes study Berra’s face, peering through the gloom. “You should have a sip of water.” The words are whispered, barely audible over the noises of the camp beyond the tent walls.

Berra puts her hand out, blinks, and says, “Someone’s sleeping in with me,” in a slow voice.  Perplexed, maybe.

“Tamakt,” Varanis confirms. “Do you want the jug, a cup, or a wet rag to suck on?”

“Cup.”  Berra’s look is bleary.  Even her voice is.

With a nod, the Vingan vanishes out of Berra’s line of sight. She’s back almost as quickly, but this time with a cup half-full of water, rather than the whole jug. “Do you need help?”

Berra almost manages to track Varanis, and then pulls herself up on an elbow to drink.  “I don’t feel good,” she says.  “But I’ll live.”

“That’s good,” her friend replies. “I’d have been cross if you’d gone to join Humakt too soon.”

“Yeah.”  Berra looks down, and holds the cup up, having had a few sips.  “Don’t want to go early.”

“Good. Sometimes I’m not sure with you.” Varanis takes the cup and orders Berra back to sleep.

“Not afraid of it,” Berra says indistinctly from below the hide, in a drifting-off voice.

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