Wading and Waiting

The American dialect of English is just as odd as English. The two words in the title of this entry normally sound almost exactly the same when used in casual conversation, but if you asked someone how they were pronounced, you would probably get the proper pronunciations.

On to what matters. Shevat mixed up an elixir to give to Doughb0y. Now it was a waiting game. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to actively wait.

I took off early this morning with Sir Nuttor to try to find the others. They needed to hear what happened to Doughb0y. The asylum looks like a battleground (because it is). We quickly crossed through the central area and went toward the South, where the others had gone previously. We heard fighting in that direction and sprinted there. It looked like a group of ninjas were on the verge of losing against a very angry mob. All but a pair of ninjas appeared to be dead, and the remaining two looked incredibly injured.

"Stop fighting!" I shouted.

My fellow inmates looked up at me as if I were crazy, but they hesitated. "Why?" shouted one of them, "They are the enemy and need to die!"

"No one needs to die! Let them go!"

"You know, Monkey," Sir Nuttor muttered to me under his breath, "This might not be the best of times to preach."

"I don’t care what time it is. This bloodshed is not necessary."

Some of the members of the following were in the crowd, and many of them looked slightly sheepish, but few sheathed their weapons. Sir Nuttor and I approached the two remaining surviving ninjas. They looked in bad shape, but would make it if no further injuries were inflicted. One ninja spit in my face. I wiped it off and continued to examine his wounds. "Kill me! You bastard!" He shouted. I ignored it.

His words made the other folks restless, though, and finally the fervor I calmed restarted. A man with a large mace came charging at the ninja I was tending to, and swung clumsily. I threw myself in the way of his club, and winced as it smashed into my arm. "What the hell are you doing!?" He shouted.

"There is no need for violence!" I returned. He swung again at the ninja, and I put myself between them. This time I was quick enough to place myself in front of his mace before full momentum came into effect, and I was able to shrug off the weapon away from me and the ninja. The man looked angry at this point, and he begun actively swinging at me. I had little trouble dodging him, but now others were charging in. Sir Nuttor stood in front of the other ninja and began deflecting weapon blows with his sword and shield. A truly defensive man, that Sir Nuttor.

In the mean time I was doing all I could to throw my body in front of any weapon sent my way. By deflecting some weapons into others, and absorbing or shrugging off the remaining blows, the ninja went untouched, but my stamina was quickly wearing thin.

Finally, some of the angry inmates gave up and went off searching for more ninjas. A few stayed behind, furious that we would protect these ninjas. Sir Nuttor pushed back the two on him and removed his shield from his arm. I was curious as to why, when he put the shield back on with his palm facing the other direction. Suddenly the shield was positioned like a dinner plate brought out by a restaurant server. I watched with interest (while getting abused by the two on me), as Sir Nuttor, now no longer capable of bending his elbow, used his shield in a completely different manner. He blocked a sword blow toward him with his own sword, and brought the sword into his shield, pinning it between his weaponry. He then kicked at the sword wielder’s need forcing the man to jump back. This caused the man to let go of his sword, and Sir Nuttor let it drop to the ground. The second man charged in with a wooden cudgel, and Sir Nuttor side-stepped, catching the sword with the upturned shield. he then swung down hard with his sword and cut the cudgel in two just above the handle. Both disarmed combatants fled the scene, leaving only two men left for Sir Nuttor and I to face.

At this point I was sufficiently broken and bruised, and I was fading fast. I was running out of places on my body to absorb blows for the ninja, so I was relieved when Sir Nuttor finally turned to help me out. He re-set his shield to a normal fashion and charged at one of the remaining two shield first. The bludgeoning impact sent the man flying, and he landed hard on his butt. While the wind was knocked out of him, I was able to focus better on the other man. He stabbed furiously at the ninja on the ground at my feet, but now I was able to grab the hilt of his sword, and pull it downward into the ground by falling backward. His sword dug into the dirt. Unfortunately the ninja that was being guarded by Sir Nuttor was able to get his hands on the sword Sir Nuttor disarmed, and had crawled over to the melee. He slashed the man I had just effectively disarmed in the back of the leg, causing him to fall down to his knees. The ninja attempted to stab the man through the throat, but Sir Nuttor managed to get back in time and throw his shield between the two injured men. He banged the hilt of his sword into the head of the inmate, and then rammed his shield into the face of the ninja, rendering both unconscious. The remaining inmate was now getting up.

Sir Nuttor re-set himself for a final round of combat, but I had a different idea. "Hey!" I shouted to him, "Can you please help me get these bodies to safety?"

The remaining inmate stopped, and looked at me very seriously. He then sighed, visibly letting the last of his energy go, and walked wearily over to us.

"There’s a medical area set up in center camp," He said, "it’s not too far away." He picked up the body of his fallen comrade as well as a few of the other inmates on the ground who looked injured, but not dead. I tried to pick up one of the ninjas, but I was feeling incredibly weak, and couldn’t stand any longer. Instead of picking up a ninja, I fell down. Much to my surprise, the ninja who I had been defending got up. He had been stabbed in the face, and I doubt he will ever see through one of his eyes again, but the rest of his body seemed relatively intact. He picked me up!

Sir Nuttor grabbed the other ninja and another body, and we all travelled toward Center camp.

When we arrived I found out that the medical area was being primarily run by Jonas, Ren, and Saki. I was put down in one of the sick ‘beds’ (a mattress obviously stripped from one of the asylum beds laying on the ground) and was tended to by one of my followers. I watched Jonas go from inmate to inmate, bandaging them and applying braces. Ren was tending to those who seemed in critical condition, but I could tell that he was feeling out of his element. Though probably no one else noticed amid the moaning and bleeding, I could see that his movements were slightly more choppy than usual, and very occasionally a look of doubt crossed his face. Ren is a genius, but we’re all human.

This is where I am now. Sir Nuttor just came up to me now that the fighting has died down a little bit. "Monkey, asking that man to help with the bodies was an interesting way of ending the combat…"

"I’ve

said it before, Sir Nuttor, people stop thinking when they’re fighting. With the right words you can get people to think again. Usually that’s enough to stop the fighting."

"Well I’m impressed. You’re more than meets the eye, Bishop."

That was an awful nice compliment from Sir Nuttor. It’s good to get compliments like that every once in a while. It reinforces that you’re doing the right thing. Speaking of doing the right thing, I really need to stop writing this entry. It’s really hard to write with a broken thumb… It’s forced me to pick up my water with my palms too!