Private Tales Guillotine, Part II

[Jane]

"Well go tell, what the fuck was his name again?"

"Asa."

"Well go tell that Asa-doctor that he's a fucking twat," Dave said. "I'm a barkeep, not an alchemist."

Delightful as always, Dave. Jane had found him in his tavern--him as well as George because apparently Ymir decided to sleep in today and her tavern was still locked. Dave was at the front door, leaning against the jamb with his arms crossed, not particularly enthused about being told what to do. George, quite used to Dave's usually sour attitude, hadn't intervened or really taken much notice of the conversation yet, and so was back behind the bar counter, looking for hells-knew-what.

"You know who's also going to be making potions?"

"You better not say it."

Jane smirked. "Ymir."

"Goddamn it."

"Yeeeaaahhh. So what are you gonna do about that?"

"God fucking damn it. Really. Ymir. What's this madman trying to do, poison the whole town?"

"So now you've got to go, don't you?"

"Remind me to tell you in the future that you're a fucking cunt."

Jane gave a whimsically dismissive flick of her wrist. "Sure. Right after I call Asa a twat for you."

George, finally, came up to the front door, a cloth rag in hand. "What's this all about, now?"

Dave canted a look back. "I'm making some potions for the sick and making sure Ymir doesn't fuck them up."

George let out a small bark of a laugh, "A little competition in the morning, eh?"

"Hey, George."

"Yeah?"

Jane gestured with her fist and thumb over her shoulder. "We gotta start making the rounds about town, and tell everyone to bring their sick to the Town Square. Asa's going to be treating them there."

"On the cobbles?"

Dave chimed in. "Well tell their dumb asses to bring some blankets and pillows too."

"What he said."

George cracked his knuckles. "Alright then. Sounds like a plan. Finally, we're gonna put this mess behind us."

"Thank Astra." A touch sardonic, that.

And then the three of them left Dirty Dave's tavern and spread out in three different directions down the streets of Guillotine to spread the word. A little bit of good news at last.

* * * * *​

There was but a moment's worth of shock on Tina's face. and then it became nothing but sheer, wild desperation as her wrists were seized. Her struggle was feral, crazed, beyond reason. As she tried to wrench herself free her arms twisted and turned, her shoulders bucked, her abdomen churned left and right and back again, her legs and feet kicked and thrashed, her head was arched back and her eyes closed and her mouth open and from it came only inarticulate snarls and growls and yelps much like those of an animal caught in a snare.

The magic of necromancy clung about her hands, but, restrained so, she was unable to make the necessary motions, and with her mind clouded, unable to harness the right concentration.

What she was able to do, however, whether by intention or accident, was arc her head forward in an attempt to headbutt the woman.

* * * * *​

Ymir, her sword in her left hand, her right on the knob, flung open the door of her home and went limping outside. No sooner had she taken three steps out underneath the morning sky did Asa rush up to her. She gasped, a relieved and hopeful sound.

"It's you! The doctor! Thank the gods, just in time!" She swatted her free hand back toward the open door and pointed. "I'm fine! I'm fine! But it's my father! He's inside!"

She turned her head and spat on the patchwork cobbles of the street and looked back to Asa.

"He's been stabbed! He needs aid now!"

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Something was around Ymir's mouth. Some liquid. Asa judged perhaps she had been drinking water when whatever happened happened due to the vague water scent of it. Best he move onto her other injuries. Mostly she looked smacked around but fine.

The main issue was that her father had been stabbed. So not an accident then but an intentional assault.

As Asa moved into the home to begin his examination of Ymir's father, he said in a tone nearly too emotionless to even call stoic, "Do you know who assaulted your family?" After a quick look he recognized the kind of wound already. "They were armed with a sword. Most people in this town seem to be. Hard to narrow down their identity if you don't know them."

Her father was in very bad shape. After a few pats of different body parts as well as other tricks he picked up from healers outside the Elbion college system, he frowned at the unresponsiveness from the man. A fact which made sense given the amount of blood that had already pooled onto the floor.

This man would die unless he did something drastic. Something he would call black but most dark.

Asa looked over to Ymir and said, "Mind going to find some sturdy fellows and a pair of ladders we could use to carry your parents out of this house for me? I will do what I can for your father while you do."

He needed her out of here to perform a blood fueled ritual of healing. It was something he didn't want any witnesses to just in case. These people were dealing with a necromancer and a plague already following a demon invasion. They likely wouldn't look to fondly upon someone doing something often mistaken as evil magic.

==================================

Tiny Tina struggled. Her answer was clear and it disappointed her captor. A waste of potential and a decently useful tool. It was a shame, but the girl wasn't worth the effort to show mer-

Smack!

The girl headbutted the woman.

Annoyed anger turned into frustrated ire.

Like she had done with the man before, the woman pressed her lips against the girl's and began to suck her soul out of her. She was not soft nor gentle. As she did this she also began to literally pull the girl's arms out of her shoulder in as painful a way as possible.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane knocked on the door. Impatiently. Then she more or less beat her fist on it. This was her...third house she had gotten to? At least one of them was one of the abandoned ones. Anyway, best to get this chain going. The more people that were up and about and moving their familial sick to the Town Square, the faster it would all get done. More people besides just her and Dave and George could get that word spreading, and at some point it was just be self-perpetuating. And she wouldn't have to do shit else.

The door of the home opened, and Jane was greeted by a woman in her mid-thirties. Behind her, five children, all going about the main room of the house and attending to their morning chores.

"Mornin' stranger," said the woman. Then a small light of recognition came into her expression. "Oh. Wait. No. Are you that Astra-worshippin' warrior George been talkin' about?"

Jane reached into her neckguard and held up the amulet of Astra about her neck. "Yeah. That's me." She put the amulet away. "Listen. Anyone sick with plague in here?"

Hope sparkled in the woman's eyes. "M-My husband, yes."

"Can he walk?"

"Maybe. Oh, oh, maybe, I think. He just gets tried real easy because of it."

"That'll work. He needs to get to the Town Square. A doctor came into Guillotine and he's gonna treat everyone there."

The woman clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful news!" She called back into the house, telling her oldest son to go and get his father.

Jane pointed at the children when the woman looked back around. "Are they doing anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well. Have them run around town and start yelling for everyone to take their sick to the Town Square. I'm trying to get the word out."

"Oh, of course! Of course! My little rascals have got themselves plenty o' energy to spare!"

The father was slowly and carefully walking out of a bedroom. The woman turned and called for all five of her children, told them to grab their little swords and told them what to do, and, gleefully, as if it were some sort of game and clearly all excited that Papa was going to be "made better" by something called a doctor, they ran out of the home to get after their task.

Save for a young daughter of the family, aged six or seven. She stopped right by Jane and tugged on her arming dress.

"It's you!"

Jane looked down. Uncharacteristically, a hesitant, awkward, thoroughly forced smile came across her face. She was not good with children. "...Yeah?"

"The paladin! You saved us when the demons came! I've been praying to Astra ever since!"

"Run along now," said the child's mother as she helped her husband out of the house.

The daughter giggled and ran off.

And Jane scratched the back of her head. Looked up and down the street. Down at her feet for a moment. She stood there by the open door of the home as she heard the children, the young daughter loudest among them, going about and yelling for people to gather the sick in the Town Square.

With leaden steps, at least for the first few, she went on to the next house.

* * * * *​

"It was a man!" Ymir exclaimed. "He...he, uh, had black hair. Short black hair. Stubble. Stubble on his face. And he was about as tall as you are."

Then a burst of rage broke through her dismay, and she said, "If I find that man, I'll kill him! I'll kill him this time! Show him to take advantage of Guillotiner hospitality!"

Asa's measured words, the renewed sight of her bleeding father, brought her back down. And she focused on the task set out for her.

"Right. I can find some help. I'll be back as quick as I can!"

Ymir turned and, as quickly as her limp would allow for, hurried out of the bedroom and out of the house in search of some men to help and in search of means to carry both of her ailing parents. Telford's forge wasn't too far. He was as sturdy as they came!

Meanwhile, Ymir's mother, as she lay on her bed and watched meekly, said to Asa, "Young man...please...help him..."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Despite the description Ymir had provided for the man who had done all the damage, Asa was completely focused on her father. Her words simply had to filed away for later in the back of his mind. Time was the enemy (as usual) for him and he couldn't afford the distraction.

Thankfully Ymir was quick to act upon his words and left to find those people he had mentioned. His ears waited for the moment he heard her steps on the street. Once there, he began to run through what all he would need to do for this man.

Not idle and sticking a finger tip into the pool of blood, the doctor began to form a circle with symbols out of it around the man and the pool of his most precious fluid. Yet the moment he heard the mother speak, he froze up. He had not noticed her earlier. His focus was too strongly on her husband. Would this pose a problem for him?

"Not as young as you think I am darling. So no need to fear. I will do what I can for your husband and then for you. My job is to save as many lives as I can after all." Asa said as he got back to finishing up his ritual circle. Once it was complete he held the same blood stained fingertip up to his lips as he looked to her. A slight smile on his lips. "Do not speak of what you witness here please. There are some who can't grasp the difference between a ritual for healing and a ritual for cursing. And I would rather not deal with them while I have a plague to cure."

And with that said, Asa began his ritual. The circle drawn from the man's blood began to glow faintly at first. Then the pool of blood did as well. The glow grew until it was as if he had lit numerous lanterns in one place. His gaze was upon the man and hushed words escaped his lips. It was a chant. One used long ago by the priests of a lost cult that worshiped a strange plant god. Their original ritual demanded a blood sacrifice to bring life back into the area of the circle. He had adapted it into a ritual of healing that consumed the spilled blood of patients to restore them. Once lost they could never regain it so this was the only way it could be useful one last time.

As the blood was consumed to fuel the magical demands of the ritual, the man's body would begin to regenerate itself at a pace commonly seen in trolls. His bleeding would stop and then the first stages of repairs would begin in his organs. It was all fast paced but then would dramatically slow down once the threat of the wound proving fatal was past. Once he was no longer in immediate threat of death, the ritual would shift. It would instead infuse his body with magic and boost his natural recovery.

Asa would release the spell. Over half the blood spilled out the wound before he arrived had been devoured by the ritual, including the entire ritual circle itself. A heavy breath left him. He felt drained as well. The activation required a large amount of his magical reserve. He knew he would be unable to perform this ritual again for hours to come.

But the man was hopefully saved from death's door. He still needed water in him, and that was what Asa moved to take care of next. He went hunting for a cup of water and returned to the man. If he could instinctively drink that would be best. But if not then Asa was prepared to massage the man's throat and trick his body into drinking it.

No fear of the woman speaking was in him as he did this as well. She sounded weakened. No doubt others would think she experienced a fantasy and mistook it for reality should he deny it. Most likely she would just never speak of it to anyone. Either way, he could handle what followed and so devoted his attention to her husband.

==============================================

The woman continued. She was determined to devour Tina's soul while slowly ripping her arms out of their sockets. An experience she was unsure of how it would feel other than painful. As if that was not bad enough, she began trying to pry into Tina's mind before it was lost with her soul as well. But she didn't care if it was. Turning her into a meal alone was more then enough for her. She could also learn more by hunting down the last of the three when she was done here.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane leaned against the side of a building that ringed the Town Square. George stood beside her, hands on his hips, and both of them watched as people came and went into the Square. Why, it was almost as if this were the start of some kind of festival, the preliminary setting up of booths and stalls and stages and what not. Except instead of all that, folk were bringing in and laying down their friends, family, settling them in. The air of anticipatory excitement was no different though.

"Keep 'em coming, keep 'em coming," George said to the newer arrivals. He pointed. "There's a space or two over there by the Fountain. Yeah. Just bring 'em over there. And watch your damn step--don't want another little incident."

"Finally got this going on its own," Jane said, watching passively as a father and two of his friends carried in his wife, his two children, and set them down.

"Yeah. It'll be good to have this plague shit behind us." George stretched--mostly for show as he pretended to be sore. "Ahhhh...now if those damned undead could just stay in the ground, that'd be all well and good."

"I'll second that."

George glanced over to her. "You headin' off once that business is over?"

Jane shrugged, but said, "Probably. Yeah."

"Heh. I don't know how you do it, Jane. Think I'd go plum crazy having a god--goddess, whatever--telling me what to do all the time."

Jane just smirked. Said nothing. Just rumbled a throaty hmm.

The Town Square was looking...half-full, maybe? Well, the sooner the better with getting this done. She hated being on the same page as Astra, and all she had of that hatred was the little poisoned pit in the center of her heart in which it was lodged; she couldn't say anything about it, think anything about it, or do anything about it.

Just was what it was. Like her time under the Eunuch. You know, before...

* * * * *​

Dusty from a lack of care and an owner. Dim from the curtained and boarded up windows, only a scant five candles to light it. And quiet, secluded from the growing commotion of excitement outside in Guillotine proper.

This was the former and late "Lord" Greyfell's house. Abandoned, like many others, in the wake of the demonic invasion. Well, "Lord" Greyfell had promised the succubus Hyatta all he owned. Fitting that this should be taking place here.

Torrence had drawn the five-pointed star upon the floor, those five candles adorning the points. In the center, the soulstone.

"Not enough time, not enough time."

That commotion outside. Torrence had heard some of it, the townsfolk, sharing the news that the plague was to be investigated and cured. No, no, couldn't have that. And so he had been bidden to proceed.

Torrence sat down on his heels before the five-pointed star.

"I understand. Fragile..."

Tavian was gone. Fled in cowardice perhaps, had a change of heart over the night, or had simply been killed through his own folly. Time, time. There just wasn't enough time to infect more of the townsfolk with the Seeding Plague, nor even enough time to allow the plague within the recently infected woman to fully gestate.

And thus the Awakening was only just on the tipping point--the soulstone in incredible danger during the process. Once begun, the slightest interruption would spell the shattering of the soulstone and the deaths of its occupants. But there was no more time to gather a stronger base of power, to fortify the ritual and guarantee the freeing of Hyatta and Trenk. It was now or never.

"I know," said Torrence. "And I will obey."

Torrence closed his eyes. Raised up his hands. And the soulstone in the center of the five-pointed star began to levitate.

* * * * *​

Ymir's mother indeed wouldn't be able to say much of what she had seen. For, not long after Asa started, her eyes widened in shock and she fainted, her head rolling to one side on the pillow of the bed.

Ymir's father, still presently in a haze of vague awareness, was nevertheless able to--instinctually, at least--drink the water that Asa provided for him.

* * * * *​

And Ymir herself limped her way over to Blacksmith Telford's forge, catching a few concerned glances and prompting a few likewise gasps along the way. He'd not yet fired up the forge, was only just getting his apron on, when Ymir rushed up to him and told him everything. Hurriedly. So hurriedly that she had to back up and repeat herself for him to properly catch any of it.

"Well," said Telford, "keep your sword close, just in case we see that bastard again. Now hold on. Let me go see what I've got on hand that'll help carry your mother and father."

Ymir, feeling pressed for time. "Hurry, hurry!"

As he was turning to head inside the shed of his forge, "Flag a couple men down while I look. Tell 'em Blacksmith Telford said to hold up for a second, and that they better listen."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Things were progressing well. Ymir's father was stable now, although would still require time to recover. He did drink the water, which was also good. They would need to feed the man red meats and dark green leaf vegetables later when he had awoken. So much blood had been lost and those foods helped in the recovery of it. Must have something to do with the latent magic within them? A working theory for now as it was still being researched.

With the man no stable, Asa moved him out of the pool of blood and began to get him cleaned up. A new shirt. Old, sticky blood wiped off with hot water. The stab wound sewed up with a needle and thread then coated in a basic poultice before wrapping a bandage around him. Quick and neatly done. The doctor was very familiar with the work and the most experience person in the entire world at it most likely.

Once the father was taken care of, it was time for him to move onto the mother. The woman was a victim of the plague and would be the first patient with it that he had a chance to examine. So that is exactly what he did.

She had past out earlier when he was performing the ritual on her husband and still seemed to be out cold. Perhaps due to shock or just fatigue from the sickness? Hard to say without her being awake to speak with. For now he began to thoroughly examine her. Touched her hair to get a feel of it while examining the color. Then a feel of her skin to get an idea of her current temperature and see if any bumps were present. He looked to see how healthy the color of her skin was. No inch or detail was spared in his examination. Lips were parted to get a look at the inside of her mouth. Same for her eyes. His hands would be slipped under covers and clothes looking for any and all signs about her health.

Any who looked upon Asa would see a complete lack for respect for the woman's modesty and privacy. But nothing about his movements held even the faintest sense of emotion behind them. She could have been a statue to him. She could have been a piece of lumber to be carved. She could have been a slab of meat...

========================================

The woman had devoured Tiny Tina. Arms had been dislocated from sockets before the girl's soul was down her throat. Only a bit of blood left on the dirty floor remained. And the woman just sat in her chair from before licking the remnants of flesh and blood from her hands. The action was delicate and deliberate like that of a bird preening its feathers.

She seemed to be utterly unconcerned about what she knew was happening in the town not so far away. She wasn't even concerned enough to peek in on her son to see what he was doing through their pact bond. She only seemed to be concerned with cleaning herself off and digesting the mute she had just terrorized like a cat with a mouse.

She would prove to be of no help to anyone for now.

Jane

 

[Jane]

It was coming along nicely, the gathering of the sick into the Town Square. Certainly over half of them were here now, their family members and friends all gathered around them, the din of hushed and encouraging conversation enveloping the Square.

Jane watched over them, the gathering Guillotiners. Watched as a brother crouched down beside his sick brother and set the sick brother's sword to lay upon his chest, helping him to grasp and hold it, telling him to "stay strong"; watched as a group of children went running through the rows of the sick with their arms spread out like wings and with joy in their expressions; watched as an elderly wife thanked and gave freshly baked bread to the two younger men who had helped bring her husband to the Square.

Yeah. Astra would be leading her off somewhere soon enough, after all this was done with in Guillotine. Probably off to Mount Dincia finally. But Jane couldn't care less about the problems of Arethil at large. So the fuck what if some colossal dragons woke up from a bad nap and stomped around, so the fuck what if something stupid happened with the Portal Stones, so the fuck what if there was some kind of vampire army marching around. Jane had been around the Mainland for a few years now, and her ice cold heart had found a home here in Guillotine.

Dave came up to her and George then, carrying a satchel of supplies and looking sour as always. "Now don't we just got the whole town riled up before proper sunrise."

George. "Well, like I was tellin' Jane, it'll be good to have this plague shit behind us."

"Yeah, so where's the damn doctor then? This is supposed to be his show. And Ymir for that matter, since we're supposed to be brewing the potions the doc needs."

"Asa and Ymir?" Jane said. "They're probably at her house. Fucking. He mentioned that."

Dave immediately turned away from George and Jane and doubled over, hands on his knees, and wretched. Hard. "Don't...oh god...don't...bluuueeeegh!...put that image into my head."

George just laughed and clapped Dave on the back. "Aw come on, Dave, the doc wasn't all that hideous lookin'."

"Wasn't...talking about..."

Jane grinned. "Oh Ymir then? She's Norden, you know she's probably got hair in all the right places."

"Bluuuuueeeeeegghhh!" Dave stumbled a little, then made a rude gesture at both her and George.

And it was just then that Old Man Hatry, fast as hell for a man his age, came running up into the Square from one of the narrow streets leading to it. He stopped, glanced around, saw Jane and George and Dave, and ran up to them. "Listen here!" He panted for a second, then said further, "Listen here now, you all gotta come with me! It's Ymir!"

"That's funny, we were just talking about her."

Dave finally righted himself, sounding a bit exhausted. "Don't fucking start again."

Hatry, uncharacteristically focused for the old joker, pressed, "Ymir was attacked in 'er home! She's with Blacksmith Telford now! You gotta come with me now, that slick bastard who done did it still on the loose!"

Jane glanced to George, and he looked to her. Dave made some snide comment lamenting the attacker being like some cheap Allirian knock-off beer, and oh what a favor he would have done if he could've finished the job, but he stowed his sarcasm and resolved to come with them anyway.

Seemed like things weren't going to go so smoothly this morning.

* * * * *​

A gang of footsteps coming from the front door of Ymir's house.

Then in came Jane, Ymir, George, Dave, Hatry, and Telford. Jane and Ymir had their swords in hand, and the men were carrying Telford's makeshift litters, these fashioned from thick spearshafts (stripped of their spearheads) and blankets.

"Here, they should all be in the bedroom," said Ymir.

And the six of them crossed the main room and went to the threshold of the bedroom.

And stopped. Jane and Ymir had taken a step inside, while the men were all looking over their shoulders through the doorway. Even with the context Ymir had given them on the way back to her home from Telford's forge, seeing Asa's thorough examination of Ymir's mother was something else entirely. Jane just wore a scandalous expression, Ymir was summarily shocked, George and Telford were mildly disgusted, Dave snickered, and Hatry looked dubiously confused.

"Son," said Hatry, the first of the group to speak, "what in the hell are you doin'?"

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

As the examination progressed Asa became more and more certain about the nature of this plague. Every inch of her skin and every detail about her form was noted. And the same symptoms kept showing up without fail. This woman, this plagued woman, was only suffering from mild flu like symptoms. It didn't match with the level of fatigue and weakness she had displayed since he entered the home.

She couldn't rise from the bed and barely could speak before. Now she was past out. Yet the only symptoms this woman revealed was mild flu-like symptoms. None of it was matching up. A natural plague would never show such mild symptoms and there would be no need for an actual plague doctor.

He was certain now. This was not a natural plague. It must be magical in some way, and meant it was likely tied into the undead outbreak after all. Did they start the spread or just the distraction? Had to be a distraction based on who was sick and not in the house. If it was related to the undead then Ymir would be the sick one not her mother. So another source was responsible for the outbreak. But who?

...The man who attacked Ymir.

Then came the sounds of people and the opening of the bedroom door. He never looked back at them. There was no need as their voices had already informed him of who it was. And then there was the one named Hatry's words. Seems they had never seen a proper examination before.

Asa said in an eerily calm and casual tone, "My job. And thanks to that Ymir's father might survive a fatal wound."

The doctor brought modesty back to Ymir's mother by making sure none of the men would see her partially undressed state. Thankfully the women had blocked their views (hopefully). After he turned to face the group.

His attention first went to Jane. "My dear, it would seem your services are required. Someone's life needs ended." Then he turned his attention to the men. "Stop gawking already. Get Ymir's parents to the town square. He will need red meat and dark leafy greens when he awakens and plenty of water. He lost much of his blood."

Looking back to Jane, he continued what he was saying to her, "As I was saying. This plague is clearly not natural. I suspect the man who attacked Ymir and her parents to be involved if not the direct culprit. The undead were just a distraction to allow the manual spreading of the plague. A tactic you sometimes see in sieges to poison water sources."

Then he looked to Ymir. "Miss Ymir would you be so kind as to show me to your room? I need to examine you. I believe the man infected you when he-" Asa tapped his lips. "I might get a better idea of what is going on if I am correct."

Jane

 

[Jane]

Nearly as soon as Jane had come into the bedroom and seen the examination in progress, right after her brow had perked and her lips had puckered up into that unmistakable "My, my, what do we have here" expression, Jane whipped her head back and glanced at everyone else. To see their expressions. Oh yes, and George and Telford didn't disappoint. Their prudish vexation was delicious to behold, much like when Dave and Torrence had each turned her down and held the same tight faces--it was the only satisfaction she could get from those separate occasions.

George, then, after the mention of Ymir's father and the Town Square (and also quite ready to get a move on after witnessing the tail end of Asa's examination of Ymir's poor mother), said firmly to the rest of the men, "Alright lads, let's get a move on."

Ymir and Jane stepped further in, allowing the men to get the litters inside the room. Hatry and Dave got Ymir's mother onto theirs, while George and Telford got Ymir's father onto theirs. On the way out, Telford cast a quick look to Asa and said, "Just about got all of Guillotine's sick in the Town Square. Don't take too long here."

And the men carried Ymir's parents out, their footsteps almost like a squad of hurried soldiers in their intensity.

Leaving Jane, Asa, and Ymir in the bedroom. Asa, then, picking up where he had left off. Yes, that little something about someone's life needing some ending, that bit. Like before in Guillotine, and like wherever Astra happened to lead Jane along. It wasn't a stretch to say that she was like a hound on a chain, wielded by the goddess and loosed on her Favored Enemies. Hey, she hated that damn chain alright, but every now and then the holder of that chain let her tear into some red meat. So there was that.

A necromancer! Hah! She knew it! Asa didn't say it explicitly, but she figured as much from what he had said. Too bad she didn't make some wager on it one of these nights past--it would have been worth the floggings for gambling.

One question though. Jane's eager look flashed into a quizzical one, and she mused aloud, "What the fuck is a siege?"

Ah, it wasn't that important anyway. Some more Mainlander speak she could pick up later probably.

Attention onto Ymir then.

She recoiled a little, eyes darting about in worried fashion and her hand absentmindedly coming to touch her chin, her lips. And then she looked back to Asa, "M-My room?"

Jane closed her eyes briefly, smirked, and tossed a casually dismissive hand into the air, turning about as she did. "I'll step out for a moment." And she left the bedroom, disappearing into the main room of the home.

Ymir's hand fretfully slid up the right side of her face, her temple, this the gesture of a woman who has come to a point in the road in which there was no other option but one she dreaded. She shook her head. Fanned herself with both hands at that point. Then palmed her forehead and slid both her hands down her face and off of her chin and shook them out at her sides. Goddamn, it was a lot to take in all of sudden, much less the entirety of this whole morning.

"Alright, alright, just..." She drew in a nasally breath, thinking about her mother. "Mind your hands. Or I'll cut your fucking balls off."

She shivered, thinking then about the man who had attacked her, his hand, his damned hand and that repulsive wetness on it, on her face, her mouth. What in the hell did he do to her, and to her mother for that matter?

She said quickly, "Just do it. Just get it over with."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Ymir's parents' room was filthy. Blood had soaked into things already and would be permanently stained. Things were scattered about in the struggle. If his suspicions were true then at least there would be no plague, but he didn't know how clean the place was able to stay with the wife sick, daughter working, and likely the husband working as well. So the change in room would be good.

He fought back to urge to describe a siege to Jane as she didn't seem to know what it was. Something told him the idea of a tactic that involved starving your enemy out of their safety while often doing things such as lobbing diseased corpses and poisoning water sources would get her interest. And as much as he would enjoy her excited face, now wasn't the time.

So instead the doctor focused on the other woman. He just gave Ymir a slight smile after her confused mention of her room. "Yes. This room is no longer idle nor comforting right now I imagine. I thought your own room would be more comforting."

Asa glanced over at Jane when she made her comment. He called out in a voice loud enough for her to hear as well as Ymir, "If it would be more comforting and less embarrassing for you then Jane is welcome to join us."

Ymir still seemed to be shaken up, understandably so, so he decided to say something. Likely it wouldn't help, but silence might be worse.

"Do not worry darling. I would never do something inappropriate such as touching a patient with sexual intent. Your health is my only concern and any action I take is for that purpose. It is just unfortunate that there is no alternative from touching you with my hands to learn what may be afflicting you. Diseases and injuries care nothing for your modesty so neither can I in my pursuit to cure them."

Definitely not the most reassuring way to phrase all of it, but his casual matter of fact tone would hopefully let her know how serious he was in what he said. He knew how to separate work from pleasure, unlike far too many people.

Once in the room with Ymir and maybe Jane if she took up his offer, Asa sat his patient down on her bed and then got to work. First he placed one hand on her head to feel her temperature as he used the other hand to move aside strands of hair and bits of clothing to check her skin color. His eyes quickly darted about her figure with a look of curiosity. No hint of more carnal emotions has he had looked up Jane the night before were present. After a bit his focus settled onto her lips. He traced their surface with his thumb slowly twice as he looked them over. A "hmm" sound escaped him.

His thumb still on her lips, his other hand went into one of his pouches and out he drew a small, clear orb. He shook it a bit, causing all kinds of colors to suddenly flair up within it. After the colors settled back into being clear, he placed the orb so close to her body that it was nearly touching her. Then he slowly traced it down her entire body until he ended at her toes. As the orb passed over her it had taken on an odd mix of colors. When he finished and pulled it away from her it went back to being clear.

Asa deposited the orb into his pouch. He gave Ymir a slight smile once more. "It would seem my theory is correct. You were infected with a magical disease."

He placed his hands gently upon her shoulders and gave them a light squeeze. That smile still on his face. "This is very good news for your mother and the town. I believe I can cure them all with a ritual to remove the magical energy fueling the disease from their bodies and with it their conditions will begin to improve. But I would like to see if I can remove it from you first as a test if I may. You are free to refuse or accept my dear. Your body your choice."

Jane

 

[Jane]

Jane had declined to join them. For what, really? Ymir was uncomfortable and embarrassed, yeah, but that was only so good--a sort of stale beer to the stout ale of torture. She wasn't even the one causing it. Besides, Guillotine was supposed to getting fixed up and all that, there other more important things that needed doing.

Like.

Keeping an eye out for someone that Jane could plunge her sword into with the full approval of Astra. Most of Guillotine was having a party in the Town Square, even those families who didn't have any infected at all were probably there just to see what everything was all about. It was the sort of thing that small towns did, and Guillotine was no exception.

So Jane was at the front door of Ymir's house, standing in the doorway, leaning out and looking up and down the street and leaning back in and going through this motion again and again. She figured the attacker would stand out (hell, she knew just about everybody in Guillotine at least by sight now), but it did occur to her that having a more exact description from Ymir would be helpful. Eh. She could ask it in a moment, when Asa and her were done screwing around.

Hopefully the attacker didn't get his head bashed in before Jane could get to him. Something that wasn't the damned undead, something that could bleed...ah, it had been a while.

Meanwhile.

Ymir grimaced with pursed lips and squinted eyes and weathered the examination. It wasn't really Asa, per se (although she did give him a fierce look and appeared ready to slap him when she caught him glancing about her figure). It was the fact that the attacker had forced his way into her home and touched her, touched her, had put his filthy, infected hand on her mouth, her fucking mouth. She felt violated. Worse, the method by which to discover what in the hell the attacker had done involved more touching, more godsdamn touching, and she stiffened and tensed with each that Asa had to do, each through no true fault of Asa's own reminding her of the attacker and his own foul touch.

A magical disease? Ymir's face contorted with shock and horror.

On pure reactionary instinct, she jerked away from Asa's hands (that touch, the attacker's touch) on her shoulders. The attack, her father nearly dying, a magical disease infecting not just her but everyone, and now some kind of ritual--it was a lot to take in.

Ymir's elbows were in her sides, hands tensing and untensing nervously, and she asked with a tone full of uncertainty, "A ritual? What, what kind of ritual?"

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Ymir had been uncomfortable the entire examination. Asa had not picked up on this fact until she jerked away when he went to touch her shoulders. His focus had been far too much on his own task and he wasn't the most empathic of people. More often than not he would be called apathetic. A fact that did not bother him. Even now it didn't bother him much that he hadn't noticed sooner. His concern was entirely on that she was simply uncomfortable.

Her question was to be expected. The term ritual often came up in the same breath as witches and demons and other sorts of dark magics and evils. For now it was part of his job to explain to her what he would be doing and hopefully put her fears to rest. She seemed like a clever woman after all and would understand what he was about to discuss.

"The ritual I will be using is a modified version of the kind used by mages and enchanters back in Elbion to extract magical power from crystals and magical objects." Asa started before pausing a moment. "Actually it is more a hybrid of that ritual and one often used by priests and clerics to remove hexes and curses from people. The idea is that it will draw out the magic that has been placed inside your body to cause the sickness everyone has been feeling. The symptoms are your body reacting to the weakness cause by this magic sapping you of your strength over time for some unknown purpose."

He smiled to her a bit. "We don't need to know the purpose either just need to draw it out of you like when you make someone vomit to sober them up a bit."

Asa made sure to keep his hands to himself this time as he spoke. A fact he made clear to her by keeping his hands in easy view so she could hopefully take some comfort in knowing what he was doing with them at all times.

"Now, do I have permission to perform the ritual and see how well it works? I promise if there is any risks I will stop it right away. If you can't handle it after all then no one in the square will be able to."

Jane

 

[Jane]

"See how well it works? You mean you don't know?"

Ymir held her temples with the palms of her hands, looking dizzy from the prospect. Godsdamn it, she hated magic. She never had it, her mother and father never had it, and so it was something she never really engaged with personally and, frankly, never really wanted to. Mother on occasion spoke of the Nordenfiir back in her ancestral lands of Eretejva, the "human"-folk who could shift into bears, and that was terrifying. Fucking terrifying. Fuck you if you thought otherwise, so was Ymir's take on it. Some people said magic was natural. To Ymir, no the fuck it wasn't. Holding a sword made of steel was natural, and that's why she loved Guillotine.

But all this? Everything? The demonic invasion all those months ago? Magic. The undead harassing the town now? Magic. The plague itself? Magic. And now the cure for the plague? Magic. How much better would everything be without thrice-damned magic to muck everything up?

Ymir paced back and forth in her room, still fretfully holding her temples with her hands, her sheathed sword bouncing on her hip. She winced. Pinched her eyes shut. Turned on her heels and paced and turned on her heels and paced. Then she opened her eyes and stomped her foot in exasperation.

"Astra's... flaming... CUNT!"

She shook her head in frustration and then called out, "Sorry Jane."

From the front door in the main room, Jane called back, "Don't worry about it." And a little sardonic tinge on the addition of, "Astra forgives."

Ymir balled up fists and held them over her eyes. Then steepled her hands over her mouth and nose and blew into the chasm of her palms. And at last she fanned herself again and relented, saying, "Alright, alright, alright, do it. Just do it. Get it over with."

One last aside, spoken mostly to herself, "I'm going to kill that asshole."

* * * * *​

In the Town Square.

A sick father grimaced.

A sick brother winced.

A sick mother groaned.

All separate occurrences, you might even say normal occurrences, so not yet some cause for alarm among the rest of the Guillotiners. Yet they were slowly, gradually, becoming more widespread and more common among the lot of the infected gathered here.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Like an eerie living statue, Asa just waited patiently for Ymir to answer him. Rightfully she was having a breakdown. The very idea of magic was hard for most to grasp. It was a mysterious force that seemed to do everything. It had proven to be a great source of pain, suffering, and death in Guillotine already. The way the nord woman was behaving made perfect sense

....And yet the true complexity of it was beyond the doctor. For him magic was simple. It was an aspect of his every day. The foundations and rules were deeply ingrained into his memory. Demons, undead, and cultists were all things he had experienced before. Centuries of life and a hint of demonic essence in his blood had stripped away his common sense of what mortals felt. Apathy was the state he often found himself in now. He just simply was with no need for introvercy. By now he understood himself on a level only the long lived could understand. Yet his human biology had not let him retain in his unnatural life what those other races so effortlessly held onto.

A slight smile was given when Ymir finally did agree to allow him the ritual. "Excellent. I will prepare it quickly and we will remove what ails you."

Like he had done back with Jane, Asa began to form circles out of a mixture of ash and salt on the floor. A pair was formed with a line connecting them. No runes or symbols were used this time. Only a candle was placed in the center of the line between the pair of circles.

Asa stepped into one when he was done then motioned for Ymir to stand in the empty one. He just waited for his surely hesitant patient to comply. When she was in the circle he said in an overly calm and casual tone, "I will begin the ritual in a moment. It will feel strange, perhaps even as if you need to vomit, but that is normal. It is just the magic leaving your body and entering my own."

He clapped his hands together. "Now let us begin." And then snapped his finger. The wick of the candle lit itself and the lines of ash and salt began to glow as if some living thing was quickly racing out from the candle and following the trails made.

Asa had his hands before him as if in prayer with his eye closed and head cast down. A magical extraction was simple, but that was with objects. They could not feel or sense what was happening to them. Living beings were different. No matter if the ritual lacked any pain it still contained a sensation.

Ymir would experience something likely wholly unique. Something deep within her that before was static and dormant would suddenly become dynamic and energetic. It sought a way out of her. A way that wasn't entirely known. It would bounce around within her gut until it finally began to move up her torso. A sensation like the need to throw up would come with it. And if she allowed it to escape by dry heaving then it would leave and find its way to its new host in the other circle.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Ymir's hands snapped to her stomach. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared in surprise and uncertainty. She had begun to say something but the word tumbled and rolled and morphed into a prolonged retch instead. She doubled over, having to brace back with her left foot to keep from losing her balance and toppling from her circle. More retching. More heaving.

And then it finally escaped, that tiny red thing, that pinprick of infernal light. Ymir never saw it. She'd closed her eyes in that moment, rocking on her legs as deep guttural coughs gripped her, strings of saliva and ropes of mucus dangling from her lips, her nose.

Ymir, hugging her abdomen fiercely, only managed to halfway right her posture. And to Asa she said, "What...what the hell was that?"

"That's what I was wondering." Jane. Leaning on the door jamb to Ymir's room and looking in, having arrived after it was mostly over. "I haven't heard gagging like that in years."

Ymir shot her a rude gesture. "Ha, ha, very funny."

"Your face is a mess."

"I know." And Ymir sacrificed the tidiness of her sleeve to wipe away the unsightly saliva and mucus that she'd coughed up during all of that.

Jane glanced to Asa. Idly twirled her sword about as she asked, "Did it work or were you just having fun?"

* * * * *​

In the Town Square, the groans, the grimaces, the faces strained with emerging pain, these were all becoming more and more common. Among those Guillotiners who were not sick, a common thread of worry bound them. These weren't isolated occurrences--something was wrong, and they didn't know what.

George, Dave, Telford, and Hatry arrived back and were to a man, momentarily, stunned by the growing chorus of anguish.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

As the ritual progressed and the magic was drawn out of Ymir, the candle in the connecting lane between them began to sputter. Each time it did the wax would melt faster and leave less of the candle behind. This continued until the magic finally left her and flew down the lane, over the nub of a candle, and then into Asa himself. Like a dry sponge, his body quickly absorbed it.

And in that brief second of absorption Asa felt a sense of ecstasy. A look came into his eye like he had only contained the night before when he and Jane were deep into their intimacy. His knees grew weak and his arms trembled from delight. It was a different sort of experience from what he felt whenever his mother shared the tiniest drop of her essence with him. Instead of the sateless hunger for all of existence and a deep desire for all things pleasurable, this was a pure concentration of raw carnal lust. So potent was it that he couldn't even focus on what the sensation itself meant. He should have been able to guess it meant the presence of a succubus, but instead he just broke down mentally in that brief second of pleasure....

When Asa came back to, Ymir was struggling to right herself. He moved over to help her out and ease her to the bed. She and Jane both spoke to him, or more accurately Ymir did while Jane harassed her. Looked like the pair would need an answer.

"The ritual worked and aside from all the gagging that Jane is oddly so familiar with-" Asa said before directing a look her way with a slight smirk on his lips. He was somewhat aware that the busty knight was more experienced in depravity than in any form of piety after the night before. His attention was directed back to Ymir after the pause and he continued. "-everything looks to be perfectly safe. I will need to hurry now. The ritual will need to be set up around the entire square if I am to do the same for the afflicted gathered there."

With that he turned to Jane. "Are you able to sense magics my dear? If you can then get a feel of the magic being used from me once the ritual is finished in the square. I will take it all in and you should be able to track the source by feeling for a second place that contains it. Blanketing the magic around the whole of the town was rather clever. Allowed them to hide in plain sight with those undead as a secondary distraction, likely meant for yourself."

Who exactly was behind all of this? It was far too methodical and precise to be a rushed operation or on someone's whim. Perhaps a long term plan finally reaching its climax? He did not know. The information was still too limited. All he knew for sure was all the signed pointed to layers of subtlety and distraction to keep whatever it was that was happening hidden from anyone who could stop it.

Asa began to head towards the door. "Ymir dear, try to rest a moment before joining us. Your body needs it after all the chaos of this morning." And with that said he closed it behind him.

Now outside the doctor began to sprint full speed towards the square. Time was certainly against them and he had a bad feeling if he remained slow and casual for too long it would cost the town's folk dearly.

==============================

Once at the square, Asa could feel it finally. The gathered magical essence once like the low ambient glow of a thousand candles scattered about providing light was now a roaring bonfire brightening up a single place. A frown crossed his face. What was the point of this magical sickness? Cries, moans, and groans of pain reached his ears. It was progressing. He needed to hurry.

As he moved about he began to yell out orders and expected them to be followed. "Cluster the infected as tightly together as possible and pull any injured or sick from something else away into their own separate group! I will need as much salt and ash as you have mixed into whatever will hold them! We do not have time to discuss just do as I asked and I promise the sick will be cured right away! It has already worked once today!"

And with that he began to work on setting up the ritual by producing the same pair of circles with a connecting line between them. This time around however he didn't place just one candle but as many as he could fit into it. As soon as a container of salt and ash was mixed together he used it. As soon as the ritual circles were completed he moved himself into his circle as he had done with Ymir before.

"Everyone not sick move out of and away from the circles! I am now going to begin the ritual! No matter what happens do not interfere until it is complete! It will only be safe so long as it goes undisturbed!"

Asa gave them a couple moments to comply then snapped his fingers. The candles lit up and he clapped his hands together. His eye closed and his head faced down. The lines of the ritual circles began to glow starting with the candles. Then just like with Ymir all of the magical essence within those gathered began to be called out to to leave its current host and instead find a new home within Asa.

Jane

 

[Jane]

"Able to sense magic?" Jane laughed a little, straightening herself from leaning on the door jamb as she did. "No. Aionus left that gift on the table."

Maybe she was able to sense magic. A particular few kinds of magic. Once. But not anymore. As with a lot of other things, the Redeemer's touch had changed the full course of her life. Added some things, but, mostly, took others away. Not that she could complain too loudly about, in thought or otherwise.

She shrugged. "We'll just have to go about the old-fashioned way." Get a big search party going, go house to house, kick open some doors. Hmm, almost as fun as some of those raids along the Cortosi Coast.

Ymir looked like she wanted to spring up from the bed and back onto her feet, yet the clashing interplay between that look in her eyes and the heaviness of her body was readily apparent. So she sighed, sank back into her bed a little more, and said, "Alright, fine. I'll join you soon enough." And she rested a firm hand on her sheathed sword. Like any good Guillotiner, keeping it close, in case that black-haired bastard decided to come back.

Then Asa went sprinting out of the house, and Jane (ugh, did she hate running in this armor) followed.

* * * * *​

Turns out, Jane didn't need to sense shit to see that something was fucked up in the Town Square; she'd lost count of her current tally, but fuck it, she'd pay up to Astra later for thinking this string of profanities. Because somebody wanted to hurt all of these Guillotiners, and goddamn it that was something only Jane was allowed to do.

Soon as she arrived, Jane, like George and the rest, had to stop and just take it in for a second. A second in which a warm shiver crackled up an down her thighs from just listening to it. The chorus of seventy-odd people, all groaning and grunting and crying out in their agonies, was lip-bitingly magnificent. Under different circumstances, this would have been oh so good. But, once again, Jane and Astra's ships were sailing in the same direction again.

Asa went right to it, calling out orders, and the townsfolk who weren't sick, who had previously been dismayed at the extraordinary event unfolding before their eyes and who had been desperately holding their loved ones, took to the firm and clear orders without question. All that mattered to them was that the orders were the ray of hope they had all been praying for.

And so they went about it. The infected were already clustered as asked; Ymir's father was the only injury, and there were two children--brother and sister--who were sick with chickenpox that all had to be moved aside. George and Telford saw to that. Salt and ash. Plenty of ash to be had from all the hearths in everyone's homes. Dave got Jane and Hatry to come with him to his tavern--he had some imported salt that got delivered just last week, luckily enough. Jars and bowls were brought to the Square by the whole community, and the women of Guillotine got to mixing as the men replenished the ingredients and handed the finished mixtures off to Asa. Everybody was pitching in.

All the while, there were some even stranger happenings among the suffering sick. Some of them had flashes of red light from within them, spilling out from their open mouths and from behind their eyes for fleeting moments. Some of them floated, just floated, off of the ground for a few seconds before dropping back down to their blankets and bedding. Small crackles of red lightning, hardly the size of a finger, sparked in the air around some, so quick that a single blink would make someone miss the sight of it.

Everyone...move away from the circles!

The community of Guillotine spread the hell out, backing away from the circles and lining the enclosing buildings of the Square like a human fence, each and every one of them looking on with stilled breaths.

"Toss a prayer up to Astra, would ya?" George asked Jane as they, too, looked on.

"Sure thing," Jane said. She touched the Amulet of Astra nestled in the neckguard of her armor. Thought to herself: Dear Astra, don't be a cunt. And that got her reset immediately, and George didn't see her blink and then blink again.

It happened then, same as it had with Ymir. Amidst the flashes and floating and sparks of lightning, all of those cores of infernal magic escaped the mouths of their retching hosts and trailed like fireflies in the night toward Asa. And then into him.

All of the strange flashing, floating, and sparking stopped, and the once-sick were all left simply coughing and turning about on their blankets. The dam of restraint broke, and all the friends and family came rushing forward from around the Square to be at their loved ones' sides, dropping down and hugging them and asking them if they were alright and if everything was okay.

And just as Jane, George, and Dave were all about to speak...

...the rumble of an explosion from within town shook the ground, and a plume of oddly-colored smoke rolled upward toward the sky, able to be seen above the Square's rooftops. A collective gasp from the Guillotiners gathered in the Square.

Jane's hand touched her sheathed sword, and she smirked as she saw it. "Gotcha."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The ritual progressed smoothly. Everyone actually took the time to listen and stayed out of his way. The magic of the ritual went unimpeded. The energy that was fueling the ever escalating sickness within the plagued victims slowly was drawn out of them as it had been for Ymir. The floating, the cries of agony, and the coughing came to an end as one by one the dots of red energy floated out of them and began to trail their way towards Asa.

This was not a good thing.

His entire focus was fixed utterly on the ritual. His concentration went unbroken. The ritual went unbroken. It was a complete success. The candles had sputtered and consumed themselves into barely being nubs by the time the last little ball of demonic light flowed into him and was absorbed like the rest into his body.

And then it hit him. Infinitely more intense than before that overwhelming carnal pleasure of lust and desire consumed him. No other thought was allowed to exist but those of the deepest, most raw carnal delights. His legs shook. His amber eye rolled up into the back of his head. Drool began to spill from the corners of his lips. His hands began to slide and massage all over his own body as a tactile sensation unlike any he had ever experienced before was the result.

The doctor was the embodiment of insatiable physical bliss....

Then it all went black.

The doctor collapsed to the ground. His body began to seizure uncontrollably as foam formed around his mouth. Unnatural snapping and popping sounds could be heard close to him as muscles tensed and released so quickly the actions was audible as well as visual. His skin began to flush as blood was pumped even more rapidly about it body.... And then it all just stopped. After several moments of dynamic violence came static calm. His body didn't react to any kind of stimulus let alone his mind. One might think he were dead if not for the slight rise and fall of his chest.

The price of the ritual was paid. One could only hope that were true....

Jane

 

[Jane]

"Jane, look!" George said. Pointing. And not at the plume of thinning burgundy smoke she had been previously eyeing.

Jane followed the track of George's finger and saw, right as it happened, Asa collapsing. George cursed, and Jane just smiled and let out a quiet, "Heh." Neither needed the other's prompting to rush across the gap of the Square and over to the fallen doctor, with Dave and Telford and Hatry seeing them running and they themselves running over as well. All five of them stood over Asa, huddled around him, looking down with varying degrees of confusion, worry, shock, or (in Jane's case) mild excitement.

"The hell's happenin' with him? Didn't'e get rid of them magicks?" Hatry asked.

"Don't look at me," Jane said.

"Rabid animals do that," Telford said, nodding down to the foam about his mouth. "It doesn't look too good."

"Shit, is it gettin' worse?" George said.

"Man gave his life for Guillotine, hats off to that," Dave said.

George again. "Shut up, Dave. Jane--there ain't nothin' you can do?"

"Well there is something."

"It's better than the jackshit we're doin' now."

Jane knelt and set her heater shield down. She placed her armored hand on Asa's chest, his convulsions a dialect of pain that she had scarce had the pleasure of hearing before. "I can try to Bless him, but the Blessing's meant for physical wounds. Not this. It's up to Metisa if this does what's needed."

"I'll pray twice tonight to her," said Telford. And George chimed in quickly as well, "Yeah, just try it!"

Jane shrugged. "Alright." And she started a slow count, "One... Two..."

And, right before she could say the words and invoke the Blessing, Asa's seizing suddenly stopped. Jane's hand rose and fell along with his chest.

Hatry glanced from the doctor to Jane and back. "That shit work?"

"I didn't do anything, he just stopped."

"Well, he ain't dead," Dave said.

"He ain't dead," Telford confirmed.

Jane stood back up, shield in hand. Should she tell them all about how it was the magic he'd absorbed into himself, and that--presumably--his body got a handle on it and that's why he stopped? Hmm. Nah. If it meant Asa would somehow suffer more, then she would. She had held off on Blessing him to maybe cure his ailment as long as she could, but then as it turned out his ailment cured itself. Heh, is this what all that potion mixing got you? Numb to pain, can't get drunk, and a self-curing body?

She drew her sword then. Borrowed a Mainlander word as she started off with, "Well gentlemen, there's someone I need to go stab." She pointed with her sword in the direction the explosion had sounded from. "And it's the asshole who's been keeping up us up all night."

The men looked at one another, at the distant and fading burgundy smoke, at Jane, murmuring astonishments and profanities.

Jane stepped over Asa, and said as she started to walk, "If he dies before I come back, run and tell me so I can shed a tear."

Time to buy Guillotine some peace at the point of a sword. And, as it struck Jane, having been on both sides, seemed the dark and the light got what they wanted this way.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

There the doctor lay on the ground comatose before all of Guillotine to see. The foam about his mouth was slowly going away leaving a sticking substance of his saliva behind. His eye was closed and his chest barely moved. He was still as the grave. Utterly defenseless now.

Asa's body was already beginning to heal the physical trauma of his seizure. Muscles torn from the violent movements stitch back together as good as before. Bruises from dropping to the cobble stones already fading. His naturally faster regeneration had been quickened by the overcharge of magical energy within his form. Already it was use to the amount. His own generation being a small limited stream feeding into the vast canyon valley that was his natural capacity for it. The ritual having proved to be a flash flood that filled him up without having slipped over the edge.

Any sensitive to magical energy would feel a strong demonic present from him now. The essence of the one behind this scheme thick about it. While it lasted it was an open gateway within his mind and body. Both of which he currently was helpless to stop from being manipulated as any outside force wished.

Jane

 

[Jane]

The infernal energy inside of Asa was potent.

But, partially spent. Diminished in service to something.

The rest was raw--and fading--potential.

* * * * *​

"Here," said George, jogging back up to the group in the Square. "Got him a blanket and a pillow."

Dave shrugged. "So I guess I don't have to go making those potions now then."

Telford, annoyed, just shook his head, and then made ready to pick Asa up beneath the arms. "No. You don't. Now grab his legs and lift."

George set down the blanket and the pillow, and Telford and Dave got Asa onto them.

"So," said Hatry, "what in the hell we gone do? Get another doctor just to fix 'im up? Where's we gonna find another one?"

George grimaced. Truth had to be said, didn't it? "Nothin' we can do. Other than wait. He knew what he was getting himself into. All we can really do is hope he didn't find himself overmatched."

George looked out over the Square. The rest of Guillotine, initially startled and worried by that sudden explosion and the odd smoke, had mostly all gone back to rejoicing with their newly-cured loved ones--emboldened by Jane's departure to go and check it out. Hell, George too on that matter. For all her oddities, Jane had just fit right in with his fellow Guillotiners. Just a part of the community now.

And the good doctor here had cured the ills of everyone in one good ol' swoop.

So...damn, what was there to be worried about?

* * * * *​

Hey, wasn't that Greyfell's old house?

The odd smoke was all but gone by the time Jane got to the front door. And, yeah, this was Greyfell's house--the old "Lord" of Guillotine. George had pointed it out after the demon invasion. Much like Lord Cyprus back in Yarrick, Greyfell had been solely responsible for Guillotine's woes. Jane would have savored the chance to step on Greyfell's face too.

The roof of Greyfell's house was blown open, and there was a partial wall collapse on the right side. The front door was ajar, barely hanging on to its hinges, and a portion of the jamb was broken. Jane pushed it open with the tip of her sword and the door creaked and then it toppled fully, slamming down into the home's interior.

She stepped inside.

Morning light struggled to penetrate through the haze inside, the wisps of burgundy smoke mixed with mundane dust. Ashes, as well, were everywhere, fluttering about, sticking to the walls and the floor and what was left of the ceiling, some that were solid black and some with tiny embers accompanying them. Tiny shards of something like strange glass were scattered intermittently across the floor. There was a husk of a giant creature as well, toward the back of the main room (behind the scuffed remains of some kind of drawing on the floor). A hollow husk, like the shed skin of a snake, and all its edges were alight with embers and turning to ash and slowly disappearing.

Jane's eyes narrowed in disgust. Turning to ash and embers. Just like the demons of the invasion. No blood--these pricks.

At her feet, however, lay a man.

And he was looking horrid. His clothes were mostly blackened rags, and his lips and nostrils matched that blackness. All across his body his flesh was thin and pallid, appearing liquefied, a haphazard sea of ragged red where muscle was showing through. He seemed a man whose very body was melting before her eyes.

Yet his eyes found her. "Jane...?"

She, ignoring completely that he had said her name, canted her head to one side. "Does it hurt?"

"I thought...I..."

Jane decided to get her own answer to the question, and stepped down on his wrist. Her sabaton found no resistance at all, the metal bisecting his hand from his arm as if it were a knife cutting into a soggy cake. The man opened his mouth, but he had no strength to scream.

"You did this. The plague, the undead. You're a pain in my ass. I would just crush that face of yours, end you myself..." And then Jane smirked. "But I feel like sharing."

She knelt and set her sword down. Put her hand on his chest.

"I'm going to make you live longer. And I'm going to savor your suffering."

"Wha...?"

"May the Blessing of Metisa be upon you!"

And, to Jane's utter surprise, it worked far better than it should have. Far better than it ever did.

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

The men of Guillotine would find the doctor's body to be heavier than it looked. It had the density of a man loaded down with thick muscles, which in fact it was. A fact they could discover if they ever removed a part of his clothing. But they would also find that his body held no resistance nor rigidity to it. Like a child's rag doll his parts would just limply flop about. He certainly would provide to be as difficult to deal with as a long bag of grain.

Once on the makeshift bedding, he would look oddly peaceful. Still no reaction came from him to anything. Not their words. Not their touch. Not even the light of the morning sun boldly burning upon his face.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Some short time later, Jane returned to the Square. And she was not alone. Walking ahead of her, with the point of her sword poking into his back, was a man in blackened rags for clothes, black hair, and a handsome face with a shadow of stubble. His hands were up in surrender, palms visible.

Jane walked him past the townsfolk all still rejoicing and celebrating, walked him over to George, Telford, Hatry, Dave, and the comatose Asa. Of the last, Jane looked down at him, noting that he was still breathing. "Oh. He's still alive. That's good." She kicked the surrendering man in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel. "It would have been disappointing if he had died and it wasn't because of me."

The men shrugged off the comment, the four of them used to Jane and her mannerisms by now. George, more than the other three, was far more interested in the surrendered man anyway, "This him?"

"I swear," said the surrendered man, his words stilted and careful, as if a single wrong choice would earn him the sword plunged through his back, "I'm telling the truth!"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Hey..." Dave said, squinting his eyes as recognition dawned on him. "I remember you. Fucking hell, Torrence was it? You and those other--Jane! Jane was even with you!"

Jane nodded at this too. "And that was the day the demons came, funny enough."

"Wait a minute..." said George as that same light of recognition came to him too. "Right! You were the one who killed that succubus. Yeah, I remember you too." He observed the sorry state of his attire. "So what the hell happened to you?"

"Oh you should have seen him when I found him," Jane said. And then to Torrence specifically, "You better thank Metisa that you're not a sloppy stain on the floor."

Telford crossed his arms, glowering down at the man. "So it was him, then? He did everything?"

"I already got his version of the story."

Torrence, desperately: "And it's true! It was as if I was a prisoner in my own mind, watching my body move to the tune of her whims!"

"'Her' whims?" Dave asked.

And then Jane nodded. This was the part that had piqued her interest. "My friend Torrence here says that Hyatta isn't dead. That he didn't kill her. That he was seduced and that all this was done in order to set her free."

She didn't know about Hyatta, the succubus who had led the invasion. Jane wasn't near when Torrence supposedly killed her, so, eh, who knew. The word around Guillotine had been that he did and that at the time was good enough for Jane. Torrence had spun a wild tale, talking about some demonologist from Elbion and some hermit necromancer woman that supposedly helped him. Neither of whom he could account for right now. So the part about Hyatta still being alive seemed to Jane like those fallacious treasure maps that circulated oh-so-well around the Black Bay: a whole lot of chase leading to nothing.

Jane rested her sword on Torrence's shoulder, bringing the edge to hug the side of his neck. "You know what I think, Torrence? I think you're full of shit. I think you're just saying all this to cover your ass."

Torrence trembled, his eyes down on the blade, and he struggled to keep his head facing forward. "Jane...I know that you and I didn't get along in the past...but I swear to Astra that I had no free will in this!"

And then Jane smirked, a subtle malice latent in the gesture. "I'll be the judge of that."

Asa Renwyk

 

[Asa Renwyk]

Unmoving yet alive the doctor remained. Nothing had changed for him in the time that the busty knight had been gone. Comatose following him taking in far too much demonic essence along with magical energy far too quickly. He was an addict having overdosed upon the pleasant bliss of such an unstable toxic substance.

A large, plump crow landed on the roof of a house on the edge of the square. It looked very upset about something. Several angry caws were made. A bit of blood still on its beak from its last meal. The crow began to try and clean it off by rubbing it along the roof. If anyone paid the bird much attention they may note how disappointed it seemed to be overall about something while also being rather bored. The bird however was also clearly going to be too lazy to do more than watch whatever happened.

Jane

 

[Jane]

Old Man Hatry, in a stroke of simple brilliance he probably happened upon by accident, said to Torrence, "Well then, you was sayin' that succu-thing is still alive. Alright. Then where is she?"

Nods of approval from George, Telford, and Dave. And all four of them looked to Torrence and watched the man sweat, awaiting his answer with scarce patience.

Torrence pinched his eyes shut, afraid to speak. He canted his head downward. And when Jane pressed her blade a bit more firmly to his neck, he said at last, "I don't know."

All four of the men groaned, while Jane just wore a satisfied smile. Torrence pleaded desperately, "You have to believe me! Hyatta forced me to set up the Awakening Ritual, and so I did. I-It was underway, but then something went wrong, something had to have gone wrong--and thank Astra! All I remember was a split second of roaring noise, a burst of light, and then, in the next moment, I was on the floor and in indescribable pain. That's when I saw Jane. That's everything!"

Jane let out a haughty huff. "Everything you want to tell us."

"IT'S TRUE! PLEASE!" Torrence said, trying to look up at Jane behind him as best he could. "That corpse that was there? In the room? That was Trenk! Hyatta's bodyguard demon!"

George gave Jane a serious look. "What corpse?"

And she just shook her head. "Don't bother. It's just like during the invasion. They turn to embers and ash and then to nothing when they're killed."

George sighed, rubbing his head. Hell, this was supposed to be all done with! Nothing but a good day for Guillotine at long last. What was the doc gonna think when he finally came around? "And so there's no way to verify if Hyatta is dead this time. Her body would be gone."

Torrence grit his teeth and pleaded once more. "I can't tell you if the explosion that killed Trenk also killed Hyatta. I can't, because I don't know. But if she isn't dead, then you're wasting time! She could be getting away as we speak!"

Jane laughed. Ahh, there was that one time when Jane and the Sisters pulled a trick like that on the Anirian Navy. Jane herself thought it was a dumb idea at first, but she went along with it. What the hell, she was in a daring and reckless mood that day. She and the Sisters stripped all the normal clothes off of their captives from the Coast, made themselves out to be a merchant vessel when the Anirian warship pulled up, and then they spun those fresh-faced lads a tale about chasing after some smaller pirate vessel. Actually got that green crew of Navy-men to believe them and go speeding off, ha! Sure, Jane had been absolutely ready to spill blood, but, she had to admit, it was funnier that the insane gambit actually worked out.

"Nice try. But no one's falling for that."

While they were deliberating about Torrence, several men and women of the town had come up to Asa intent on giving their heartfelt thanks, saw that the doctor wasn't doing so well, and worriedly asked George what was wrong. George then was on crowd-control as several more approached, and he was busy trying to assure his fellow Guillotiners that everything was alright.

"Well," said Telford, "this is going to take a while, and we're not going to get anything done here. Dave."

"Yeah?"

"We're going to take Torrence and keep watch on him until this is figured out."

"Aw. Not inviting me aboard, sailor?"

Telford shrugged. "Thought you'd want to attend to your doctor friend."

"Poor fuckin' sap," Dave said with a shake of his head.

Jane smiled. She withdrew her blade from Torrence's shoulder and spun it around and sheathed it. She leaned down to Torrence, and whispered to him with an air of sadistic delight, "We're not done here. You'll be begging before the end." And she gave his shoulder a couple hard pats, standing up straight again.

Torrence paled with a creeping horror, his handsome features pulled long and wide.

* * * * *​

George and another Guillotiner carried Asa in a litter back to Jane's claimed house (Hatry sure as hell wasn't up to the task). They saw the stained sheets on the bed, and while George was nonchalant about it, the other man--much like Torrence previously--paled with horror. His mouth had dropped open, and he wanted to speak, but George just went "Ah ah," shook his head, told him to mind his own business and that it wasn't anything that concerned either of them. Jane was just standing by the doorway to the bedroom, watching, smiling. She winked to the other Guillotiner as he and George made their way out, and the man quickly avoided eye contact after that.

The front door shut after they left.

Jane stretched. She went out to the main room and took off all of her damn armor, setting down her sword and shield, and she was all too happy to be shed of the extra weight. She thought, briefly, that now might be a good time to work her tally down. Grab her whip and get to work for Astra. But...ah...she could procrastinate on that a bit longer. She knew she was drained after that Blessing of Metisa, no more divine favors from Astra until she did her penance, but what would she need it for? The plague was done, the undead were done, Torrence was in custody--everything was fine.

That bothersome itch could just work itself up until she finally caved in and did her penance to get rid of it.

Jane went back into the bedroom. Walked up to the bed in which Asa had been placed to rest. She watched him for a moment.

Then slapped him clean across the face.

"You just gonna lay there all day?" She loved being a hypocrite about other people getting rest, when she herself slept as much as she pleased as often as she could.

And then Jane leaned over him, hands behind her back. "Or was that paltry amount of magic too much for you to handle?"

Asa Renwyk