Chapter 3

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"He still hasn't woken up. That's awfully nice of the man, seeing as I went through all of the trouble to rescue him and help him survive the night. And all he does in return is nothing - a complete lack of action of any sort. He could at least have the decency to be interesting while he sleeps. I mean, really, who does absolutely nothing when they're unconscious? At least be a little interesting and moan or something. Anything."

"I know that many people who take violent wounds to the head don't wake up, and most don't recover. Still - the least I could have asked for was something intriguing to watch as I pass away my free time standing guard in the back of the cave. This decision has led to nothing of use; all I've done is succeeded in making a human vegetable - an un-grateful vegetable in fact. Should've left him to die, would've been much less exhausting and just as -"

The man woke up with a start, nearly scaring Hallen out of his skin. Of all the ways to wake up, the man had to pick the way that nearly killed the person who saved him. The ungrateful little-

"Acther."

The moan from behind caused Hallen to look back to where the man had been set down. What in the blazes did "acther" mean, anyway? By the Seven Gods of War, if this man he had saved was a foreigner, he was going to stab him a few more times for good measure and then toss him back into the ditch where he found him. This was life laughing at his ideals - it was obvious. Alright then! If that was the way the universe was going to play it, he was going to play this game in return! Back into the ditch with him -

"Acther!" The man repeated with more emphasis, pointing at his throat.

Ah - that made more sense. Slightly embarrassed at the fact he had been pulling out his sword to slaughter a wounded man asking for water, he turned around and left the cave for the nearest stream.

The man still wasn't worth saving, but at least being somewhat awake was a start.

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Hallen stumbled back to the cave under the weight of a twenty pound water bucket he had picked up in town. It wasn't all that heavy, but he had gotten it cheaper since it was oddly shaped and defective - but still functional. With a final heave he got it into the cave where the soldier pounced on it with three times the energy he had shown when he woke up earlier.

Seeing as the man had found a way to bury his head in the container and drink as fast as humanly possible, Hallen thought it was probably best not to disturb the soldier, and so returned to thought while he waited for the man to finish.

What purpose did saving someone like this serve? It didn't make any practical sense - the fact that the man had already nearly been killed meant he would most likely be useless when it came to fighting or hiding. He doubted the man would be good at trading, and the lack of dexterity with which he moved meant he was probably a bad choice for gardening or any other detailed activities.

He was a useless person - so why save him In the first place?

Sure, morals and ethics were all well and good, but they didn't put any food on the table. The only reason Hallen had stayed alive this long was by being practical, and this decision was anything but that. The voice of the stranger interrupted his thoughts:

"Could you tell me what exactly we're doing in a cave? A cave of all places - not a very civilized place to live! Not fit for human habitation! I say, if the gods of creation had meant for us to be living in caves, they would have designed us like moles! Do I look like a mole? Of course not! Then why in the name of the 3 Patriarchs of Disarray are we in a cave? It defies logic! It makes no sense!"

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