Lodur stepped off the boat and onto the docks of Dark Shore. He turned and waved his thanks to the crew of the vessel before continuing on to Auberdine at the end of the docks. On the deck of the ship a young sailor nodded at Lodur, the scar across his chest showing clearly through his ripped shirt.
A freak storm after leaving the dock at the Exodar had kept them busy most of the day trying to get here. Lodur had helped as much as possible, but he was no sailor. After a few failed attempts to help secure various parts of the boat he decided to just tend wounded and stay out of the way. A wicked wind had snapped a rope that flailed around like frantic snake. The young sailor had tried to secure the line but it only served to knock him down at an odd angle, and onto a dropped sword on the deck. There was a pool of blood that did not seem like it would end until it had coated the entire deck.
Lodur had gone to work immediately. He slid to the side of the young sailor and turned him over carefully, fear bright in the eyes of a man who knew his death was fast approaching. He ripped the sailor’s shirt open and examined the wound. Lodur reached into a pouch at his side and pulled out a bright green colored gourd. He poured the contents of the gourd, a slightly opaque liquid, onto the wound. The man screamed with such blood curdling force it could be heard clearly over the howl of the wind. Lodur placed one hand on the mans head and the other just about the wound. He began to speak in a whisper almost lost to the gale.
“Spirits of water and air I ask you lend me your strength to mend the wounds of this man. I beseech you to lend me aid”
The wound mended shut slowly leaving a nasty scar across the sailor’s chest. The man passed out from shock but was breathing normally, Lodur carried the man to the bunks and set him down, going back to tend any more wounded that might be there. The storm broke shortly after the incident and the rest of the journey was uneventful. The captain had nodded his thanks to the Shaman as they pulled into the dock.
Now that the boat had arrived in Darkshore they would make repairs to their boat and re-supply. Lodur turned from the boat and faced Auberdine. He had stayed here shortly after the exodar had crashed. He remembered the elves and dwarves here to be good natured and friendly. Perhaps he would spend the night and make passage in the morning. It was quite peaceful here and the effects of the Lich King’s Plague were still far enough away that one could enjoy a quiet evening in the dock side town.
Lodur grabbed the empty gourd from his side and looked at it. Maybe he’d have time to talk to the Druids of Auberdine and ask permission to speak with the spirit of the moonwell and see about replenishing the contents of the gourd. First, lodur thought he would fancy himself some Sand Crawler stew and Moon Berry Juice. The Inn was just at the end of the dock, and he could secure the hot meal and a bed for the night.
Putting one hoof infront of the other, Lodur began to move down the dock and towards the Inn. A smile formed on his face, he had done good this day.