The Cleric and the Pushmi-Pullyu, Part 1

>Be Cleric
>Passing through a small town.
>Got word of some shady goings on.
>Livestock slaughtered in the fields
>Fields of crops burned.
>Children going missing in the nearby forest.
>The usual.
>Arrive alone, heard that there would be others in the area that I could team up with.
>Been looking around this village for hours now.
>Haven't seen anyone besides these frightened villagers.
>I ask around about others who might have come.
>Whenever I ask the person starts looking worried.
>Same answer every time:
“Well, someone...something... did come, then it went into the woods.”
>Decide to wait it out.
>If they're alive, they'll come out before nightfall.
>If they're dead, then I'll just wait for others to arrive.
…
>Sundown.
>Sitting on a stump, staring at the trees where the villagers tell me the other person entered the forest.
>The people seem happy to have me here.
>Free food, half-decent wine.
>Makes the wait a little easier.
>Movement in the trees.
>Whatever it is, it's not afraid of making noise.
>Don't hear footsteps, only a dragging noise.
>Stand up from the stump.
>Grab my mace and holy symbol.
“The Lord of Light ensures that I may never walk in shadows.”
>Symbol begins to glow.
>A stream of light casts forth upon the wall of trees.
>Whatever's coming through isn't that tall, just large.
>A shape emerges.
>It's human.
>No, it's a centaur.
>Female.
>Pretty short for a centaur.
>Half breed?
>She doesn't look like she's in the best condition.
>She sees me, squinting her eyes at the light I am casting.
“Is this the village?”
>She looks behind her back quickly.
>Did something follow her?
“Yes, are you okay?”
“I'm fine.  Are you a cleric?”
>She doesn't look fine.
“I am.”
“Can you heal?”
“I can, do you need aid?”
“Ye- no- I mean, I don't-
>Looks behind her again.
“But she does.”
>Does she have a rider?  Is she carrying someone?
>Is she even strong enough to carry someone?
>Rush to the trees where the centaur is standing.
>She's rigged up a crude stretcher from some thin logs and branches and mounted it on her back so she could drag it behind her.
>She carrying a woman.
>She's bleeding from her temple.
>She's breathing, but non-responsive.
>This woman looks just like the centaur.
>No
>A satyr?
>is the centaur dragging it's hind legs and this woman?
“Bugbears, one of them leapt from a tree and struck her with a club.  I couldn't wake her so I had to drag her back.  It hurt a lot.  Please heal her.”
>Why does it look like this woman is connected to her?
“Bugbears?”
“They have an encampment deep in this forest.  We managed to route them after killing a fair few of them, but I can't guarantee that they didn't follow us.  Please heal her.  It hurts greatly.”
>Must be the dark playing with my eyes.
“How do you know her?”
“She is me.  The pain is immense.  Please heal her.”
“What about-”
“Heal her, please!”
>She looks distressed.
>She doesn't want to speak anymore.
>I place my hands upon the thing on the stretcher.
“All pains and wounds are soothed under the Lord of Light's hand.”
>The Lord of Light's warmth flows through my fingers into the creature.
>The bleeding stems.
>The wounds close.
>I look to the centaur.
>No, that's not right.
>I don't know what she is.
>I look to the one that's awake.
>A look of relief has spread across her face.
>The scratches on her cheeks fade.
“She'll probably be unconscious for a while yet.
“No.  She won't.”
“Trust me, I've seen this many times before.  We should get her to a bed where she can rest.”
“No. I will not.”
>The one standing didn't say that.
>The voice came from the stretcher.
>I look down.
>Its eyes are open.
“Are we back?”
“We're in the village.”
“Our enemies are dead?”
“Only the ones we killed.”
“So there's many left to go.”
“We're not yet done.”
>I can't help but gape at the sight of these two talking amongst themselves.
>Don't know if I'm supposed to say something.
“You, Cleric.”
“Hey, Healer.”
>Are they talking to me?
“Thank you for your service.”
“Your skills are much appreciated.”
“The pain was very great.”
“I feel much better now.”
>This has got to be the oddest show of gratitude that I've experienced to date.
>Even weirder than that gnome who offered me his daughter.
“Are you here to fight?”
“Were you planning to help?”
>I suppose that's what I'm here for.
“Yeah...  I guess.”
>They look at each other for a moment before turning back to me.
“Will you be joining us then?”
“Would you be willing to assist us?”
>They must be the “something” the villagers were talking about.
“I think so...”
>They smile.
“Good.”
“Great.”
“We leave tomorrow morning.”
“Into the trees at sun up.”
“We've got a good amount of ground to cover.”
“The bugbears are located quite deep in.”
>This might just become something I didn't quite sign up for.
“For now we rest!”
“To the inn!”
“You're a follower of Solom?”
“A Lord of Light disciple?”
“Does your order know any good songs?”
“I'm told I'm a wonderful singer.”