[center][sub][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4858722]Rowena of Roekirk[/url]
[i]Acolyte of Light[/i][/sub][/center]
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	In the buzzing backdrop of human noise inside a third-class carriage that trailed the end of the [i]Northern Spirit[/i], a young woman sat staring into the bright, moonlit night. On one side of her, a family ate their meal: a boy, a girl, and their mother. Julian, the boy, alternated between wolfing down his meal and laughing at his sister. Like most boys his age, he enjoyed tales of bravery and heroism, of valiant individuals who stood alone against the Dark. His sister, Agatha, was of like mind and was infinitesimally fascinated by the sight of a woman bearing arms. Their mother, Marianne, disapproved of such curiosities if the scolding of Agatha's eating manners was any indication, but she had nevertheless appreciated any sort of respite from the caring of her children. 

	Rowena was content to leave the family in their small bubble, granting them what limited privacy she could as her eyes remained transfixed on the moon that dominated the window on the opposite side. The irregular drumming of her fingertips against the windowsill echoed in chorus with the steady [i]click-clack[/i] of the train gliding underneath her feet. A smile played on her lips as she hummed a hymn of Light in rhythm with the odd beat as Julian had found a mysterious piece of meat that had somehow made its way into his bowl of gruel and the subsequent argument the two siblings had over it.

	Then the smile faded. A hitch in the tune, an offbeat rhythm of the tracks, and the dread of danger became burned into Rowena's every nerve and pore. With only a moment's hesitation, the acolyte leaped forward to entrap and cocoon the small girl that had sat in front of her. Whatever had followed next was only marked in Rowena's memory by a thunderous bang, a piercing screech, and the world turning sideways for but a moment before everything was encapsulated in utter blackness. 

	When the world came to once more, it was met with a dull ringing that slowly gave way to the sound of others coming to and the quiet atmosphere that preceded whatever shock and horror that may come next. Rowena, in her dazed state, was pleasantly surprised to find that the only issue she had in regaining consciousness was that her window had become the new floor of which she was currently curled on. Glass also lay in shards all around her, but it seemed as if her thick clothing had saved her from the worst of it. Still, she could feel them clawed into her hair. The adrenaline had also likely blocked her perception of them, but there was also no doubt that she had also suffered several bruises or two. Both problems to be solved at a later time.

	What was even more of a pleasant surprise at least was to find that the bundle of warmth that beat on her chest also lay unharmed for the most part. Agatha had gripped herself tight to the young acolyte, shivering in fear but seemingly no worse for wear. Her brother and mother, however, were unfortunately nowhere to be seen. 

	Automatically her instincts rose to action far faster than her mind could, and Rowena sluggishly managed to extricate herself from Agatha's desperate grip in order to search for her own belongings. By some miracle of the Light, most of it had remained relatively undisturbed. The rest could be found at a later time and place. Not all of the items before her would be necessary, but out of habit, she shouldered her clothed musket and its various accouterments before grabbing her spear and the jumbled bag that held her first aid supplies. 

	Now armed with her tools and a prayer, the acolyte rose to walk amongst the mangled mess of humanity before her alongside the familiar rising chorus of suffering and pain that always accompanied it. Confronted with a new challenge and purpose, she strode amongst the broken and needful and resumed her hymn to this new cadence, choosing to ignore the shakiness in her voice. Truly were they all the Light's blessed today.

	Her eyes wandered from one shape to the next, her subconscious sorting the list of bodies before her. Among them, Rowena had found Marianne some aisles down, dazed and concussed, but that was the extent of her injuries. Julian, who was but one aisle down further, was in much worse condition. He was trapped under an unconscious heavyset man, which Rowena moved aside easily, only to reveal the boy bloody and broken. His left arm lay at an unnatural angle, his chest moved in an odd pattern, and blood gurgled from his mouth as he also lay choking on something. Once more, the beat of her tune became off as she took in the sight in front of her. There was naught to be done by standing idle, however, and so she set to her work. 

	Unfortunately, the most she could do for the boy was to set his arm and force out the obstruction in his throat, which likely only exacerbated his internal bleeding. She had neither the tools nor the time to treat the boy further. The last thing she could do for him was to place him at his mother's side, and so she did. Leaving the future corpse in the loving embrace of its mother and a prayer for its Light to return to divine radiance, she set back down her path to treat those she could, resuming her song and smile once more.