>>7593 Well, not necessarily. I won't punish Anonymous for making reasonable choices, but what Sigurd would consider reasonable isn't always what a modern man would consider reasonable.
Of course there are a few exceptions, but then again there has to be in order to make the story interesting.
I also like the fact that Anonymous actually remembered that bottle of booze. It feels nice to work in small details like that when Anon actually takes advantage of them.
And I can reveal that smart choices do tend to carry rewards.
But I'm talking to much. Now back to your regular Viking adventure.
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[ ] Use some of the alcohol to wash the wound and disinfect it. Warn her that it'll sting like Surtur's fire.
[ ] Try to find some suitable moss and use it to stop the bleeding.
[ ] Take off your shirt and rip it up into makeshift bandages and a sling.
[ ] Try to find some willow bark for her to chew on.
+
[ ] Sweep her up in your arms and carry her the rest of the way.
You stop and think for a few seconds. What do you have to work with? The answer is all around you. This is a forest, not very unlike the ones in your homeland. Everything you would need probably is out there somewhere. Ignoring the twin nuisances of 'probably' and 'somewhere', you decide to forage for medical supplies. Turning back you attention to Marisa you calmly inform her of this.
"Fair friend, wait for me but a few minutes. Herbs of healing shall I bring." Marisa nods and grabs her shoulder again to slow the bleeding. You spy around you in search of anything useful
In a stroke of luck you find a patch of peat moss. Excellent, that will certainly aid in stopping the bleeding. You carefully pull up enough moss, and then a bit more to be in the safe side. Next you move over to a large willow tree and use your dagger to cut off a chunk of bark. You can't see anything else that would be of use, so you return to the wounded witch.
You kneel down next to her and give her the bark. While you prepare the moss you tell her to chew on the willow. She obediantly does so while you think about how to clean the would. Then you remember something. Didn't you bring along that bottle of booze? You open your pack and pull it out.
"This will sting like Surtur's fire," you warn as you unscrew the bottle. "But fire cleanses as well." While you try to reassure the young witch you carefully clean a small patch of moss from dirt and grime then pour the alcohol over it. You take a swig from the bottle to steady your hands and start your work.
Your free hand hand seizes Marisa's wounded shoulder gently but firmly and hold it still while you wash the wound clean. She moans in pain and bites down hard on the bark. You keep her from moving too much and then take the clean moss and apply it as a makeshift bloodstopper.
Then you pull off your shirt. While it's both torn and dirty it will serve for your purposes. A couple of tugs later the garment has transformed into suitable bandages which you use to fasten the clumps of moss against Marisa's shoulder. The leftover cloth is easily fashioned into a makeshift sling for her arm. You button up her shirt and vest and tie on the sling. Examining your work you'd judge it to be pretty good considering the circumstances. You screw on the cork and toss the booze back in your bag.
Marisa is breathing steadily now, apparently she has pulled herself together after her ordeal. A strong woman indeed, she would surely make a fine wife one day... wait, why are you thinking about such matters now? You should concentrate on getting the hell out of here, not speculating about future romantic escapades.
You strap your shield to your back and toss the supply packs back over your shoulder. Then you stoop down and sweep up Marisa in your arms. She makes a small yelp in surprise and looks up at you in shock. With her eyes wide open, the slight blush on her pale features and her confused expression she is almost criminally adorable.
"Eeehh? What'cha doing -ze?" Her voice is unsteady and near panic. You look down at her with an expression of perfect calm, like the surface of the still ocean.
"The wise man stays not in perilous land when wounded and weary. Nor will he overly tax his strenght when harm has found him." The witch looks down as you speak but doesn't protest futher. You walk into the woods while holding Marisa against your bare chest. For a long while you walk in silence, cradling the brave black-white in your arms like one might do with a small girl.
You don't know when the mist and shadows begin to part, but before you know it you're walking on a small path that twists and turns as the forest slowly grows brighter and brighter. Suddenly a shower of sunlight bursts from the treetops illuminating small patches of ground. The air is somehow clearer, the colours more vibrant as you approach the end of these damnable woods of fell sorcery and hidden danger.
Marisa looks up as you step past the last trees. The two of you gaze out over a large plain and finally behold the village of apparitions. You have never seen such strange architecture in your life, not even in the white stone cities of Särkland. You observe silently for a long while until an impatient voice drags you back to the present.
"Hey hey Sigurd, what'cha standing there for -ze?" You look down at the suddenly vigorous black-white. "We can't stop here, this is Youkai country -ze! We hafta hide and wait for Alice's signal."
You're somewhat surprised at her dedication. Sticking to the plan now would carry risks with it. You're no healer, and your attempt at first aid was improvised to say the least. It would be prudent to seek aid in the village. But will you recieve aid in a foeman's halls? Impossible to say.
In any case you must decide. Marisa already looks mighty impatient at your vacillation. "Come on, I've had worse. No need to worry about me, I'm tougher than I look -ze."
[ ] Stick to the plan. Marisa probably knows best.
[ ] The plan be damned. Enter the village and seek medical assistance.
[ ] Leave Marisa somewhere safe, then sneak into the village and steal some medical supplies.
