An Oasis

Cargo had been scared before but not like this. The fear hit you from all sides. Suddenly everything around you is suspect, your breath comes in short bursts that can’t be captured or corralled and your feet start moving before your mind has a grasp on where you are going. The cold snapped Cargo out of his terrified run through the North Ward. Just as suddenly as his panic and terror subsided Cargo was overcome with just how much danger he was in. Covered in snow and sleet, Cargo wasn’t dressed for his terrified run through the city streets. Wearing sandals, breaches, and a night shirt, he was almost blue from the cold. The skies above were mostly hidden from view by the storm save for the huge draconic shadows that would pass by and the new terror that would cause those around him. Worse than the cold, screams seemed to echo from everywhere around Cargo as black skull undead creatures swarmed the streets, feeding on the panicked masses.

His breath now coming in short bursts, his body uncontrollably shivering, Cargo knew he had to find shelter and warmth if he wanted to survive this nightmare of a day. Looking around at his options, several homes were near but obviously under attack by the undead that had inexplicably appeared upon the city streets. Finally Cargo’s eyes settled on a small bakery shop and the light wafts of smoke still coming from the chimney. Cargo headed for the shop saying a silent prayer to Tymora that he would be able to recover there. Stepping through the entrancerang a small bell that hung from inside above the door. The warmth immediately hit Cargo and he collapsed just inside the door, his body overcome with pain as feeling returned in a rush with the heat.

Cargo struggled to look about from the floor of the bakery, his eyes seeing dry feminine feet and shoulders of someone else in the bakery but his pain and position prevented him from seeing just whom he shared his space with. “The oven is still on, I’m bringing you cider, it will help you recover your strength.” The woman’s voice stated. Stepping from around several barrels a middle aged woman set a large steaming mug of cider next to his head and soon had placed several blankets and coats over the still shaking Cargo.

Cargo’s body felt like someone was sticking millions of needles into his skin as full feeling returned. Reaching tentative hand out to the mug of cider, he pulled it to him, and sipped at its contents before ignoring the burn of the hot liquid and downing the mug. The warmth of the cider spread through his body and the pain slowly began to recede. “Th…Thankkkk yo…ouu” was all Cargo could stutter as he released the mug from his shaky grip. Inside the bakery Cargo realized that he could not hear the storm, nor the violence and chaos outside. The relative calm and peaceful atmosphere of the bakery along with the warmth and good smelling breads clashed with dangers of the city streets just outside the door.

“My name is Leira” she spoke again, “rest for now Cargo, you are safe. When you awaken you can help me return.”