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Cleric Journal: Day Thirty-Six

DearFatherMulcahy

 

Once again, the power of prayer proved strong. An hour after full light, as I was once more relieving myself into the brackish water, I received a new surprise. Why is it I get surprised when I have my small clothes in disarray?

Regardless of the humor of the gods, I turned, thinking to have nice fat bowl of rat stew when I found a spear wavering in front of my face. I was thankful it hadn’t been pointed lower and that I had secured my own magic staff before turning.  As it was, I found myself face to face with a half starved Lizard Folk child. While she brandished an adult size spear she could barely stand. A strong gust of wind would’ve knocked her over, poor waif.

It took a bit of wrangling and miming to convince the young lass that I meant her no harm. Her disposition was sour enough, but once I showed her the roasted and smoked frog legs (or what remained) as well as the rat stew, she brightened, falling upon my stores with a vengeance. Apparently food over rode any fear she may have had of me. All praise to Semaunya (may her chill demeanor apply to all her people).

The youngster polished off the remaining toad legs, which she attacked with extreme zealousness. I guessed they were sworn enemies. As she ate I sat far enough back not to be threatening, but close enough to study her.

I don’t know anything about Lizard Folk physiology, but comparing her to the size of items in the village around us, I guessed she was a child. I said as much to Brother Charles who had shown up to watch the girl eat her own body weight in toad.

Good news. Whether it was innate ability, thoughtful prayer, Kithri’s healing (which seemed to give me secret knowledge), or the continued dreams of the Lizard Folk shaman, I was able to understand a few of her words.

Bad news. She was making disparaging remark about the size of my manhood. She said something about how short my weapon was in any event. I tried not to take it personally.

Now, with kids you have to be careful. How would a Lizard Folk parent handle that level of disrespect? Upon further contemplation I retrieved my own spear, flipped it over and bonked the young woman on the head with the blunt end. The spear I found here, with the mishmash of weapons tied together. Keep it clean on your end, sir.

When I tapped her, she did a full somersault before stopping and glaring up at me.

“Respect your elders” I said in her language and she gawked at me as if I were the second coming of Vecna.

Hmmm, where had that name come from, I wonder?

Anyway, after my gentle and loving spear tap, not unlike the admonishments you often provided me, she appeared to settle back more contrite. I’m not really sure as some of the words she used were unknown to me. For that matter, when I tried to engage her in further conversation she suggested some things that were not anatomically feasible with one such as I, so I had to think I was only partially attuned to her language.

When she stopped shoveling stew into her face I introduced her to Brother Charles. She looked at me like perhaps I was not a stable individual, but shrugged and nodded to Brother Charles, saying a phrase I think means food to be eaten later. I stoked up the fire and set about working on my rat pelts once more. She watched me, sucking on a toad bone, but did not interrupt. Once I had the skins soaked in brain juice again, and were worked and supple, I set them over the fire once more to be smoked and washed up.

As I dried my hands by waving them in the air, I made a decision. I would perform one of the more public liturgies, keeping everything plain and simple for her. None of the secret worship, though. That was just gross. Not because she was a Lizard Folk, but because she was too young.

She came around quickly once I began, nodding and chanting along with my words, only she used her language while I used mine, well yours. I assumed I’d speak the same language as you, but as I don’t know anything about my mother, that’s a guess. Anyway… The young miss was pleased with the similarities in our rituals we ended the night best pals. She fell asleep soon after dark with a full belly, she huddled near the fire. I waited up, keeping the fire stoked and watching the swamp around us. Somewhere out there were more of her village and we needed to go rescue them.

Twice she whimpered in her sleep, which broke my heart. I prayed then, promising Semaunya (may she protect her forsaken children), Yondalla (may her toes ever remain furry), and Kithri, for good measure. I promised I would do everything I could to find this child’s tribe and that had to be good enough.

It had been a great day.

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What I'm Reading

 

D&D 5E Player’s Handbook

 

Recent Comments

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Note: This is not the real book cover.