by Ryan Rimmel
“Let me guess,” I continued, “It's a children’s book about a puppy. It teaches them about spelling and friendship.”
“I have several of them that I share with the village children.” replied Jarra the Healer. “That’s one of the reasons my dog is named… Jim.” She finished lamely. Jarra did not like the fact that my name was Jim.
“So, you are going into battle tomorrow,” stated Jarra, after a moment. I couldn’t tell if she was asking me or just making a statement.
“Yes, one way or another,” I replied, thinking back to my earlier musings. I considered talking to Jarra about them, but she seemed apprehensive. I decided against it.
We sat for a long moment, as I finished the rest of my food. Jarra fidgeted. I wasn’t used to seeing her like this, but she eventually seemed to come to some decision.
“If you are going into battle, do you need anything from me?” she asked.
“Did you ever get around to making those potions?” I asked. I was immediately aware that I had said the wrong thing. She frowned slightly before opening her healer’s kit and pulling out two red vials.
“Yes, healing potions,” she said flatly, before moving her voice back to a more inflective register. “Anything else you need for me to do?”
“Well,” I said, looking down at several holes in my shirt, caused by both magic and pumas. “I could use your sewing skills.”
She looked at me questioningly until I fingered the hole in my sleeve. Then, she looked slightly upset, until I reached down and started removing my shirt. Before I pulled the garment over my head, I saw a naughty little grin for a moment. I recognized that grin instantly. That was the kind of grin that I’d get from my wife, if I was about to do something naughty.
Glancing down at my own chest after I’d removed the shirt, I realized that I was a bit more well-muscled than I had been on earth. I had an 8 pack, broad shoulders and sculpted pecs. I was so used to being a 40 year old with a dad bod, that I never really considered my looks here. I looked like a buffer version of Brad Pitt from Achilles right now. My wife would have eaten me up. Would she have, though? My wife always seemed fond of my dad bod.
Oh, no. My wife. I am married. I felt Jarra the Healer’s warm hand on my stomach. I looked at her. Jarra had an open expression of wonder and was looking at my side. She placed her other hand on my side and started examining a small green tumor.
“Is this a life cyst?” she asked.
“Yes,” I stated, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because, I can use it to make more effective healing potions. I don't have enough catalyst to make very many right now. With this little cyst, I could make 3-6 more potions. I’ve had SueLeeta scouring the woods for potion catalyst ingredients, but she has had very little luck. Of course, you’d just walk in here with a bunch of it.”
“Well, there is more,” I stated.
That was a mistake. Jarra pulled me to my feet and started looking at my back, finding another tumor. Although, she seemed determined to call them cysts. “This one is even larger! I’ll be able to make many more potions from this. I could just kiss you!”
I coughed awkwardly, as Jarra began running her hands up and down my legs.
“Ooh, is that another one?” she asked, as she unceremoniously pulled down my pants. I was left standing in nothing but my underwear. She began to examine one slightly above my knee. “It's not as large as the one on your back, but it’s still very helpful.”
“Um,” I began. This was turning into an odd interaction. Jarra the Healer was on her knees in front of me and still carefully examining the cyst on my leg. When she turned her head up to face me, a look of awe and wonder fell upon her. With dawning horror, I realized she had laid eyes on the speckled greenness of my taint. The legs of my boxers were loose enough; she could have gotten a glimpse of it.
“The mother lode,” she said quietly, yanking down my underwear. She then yelled, “SueLeeta, get in here and check this out!”
SueLeeta stepped in with the most questing look that I’d ever seen on a person.
“It's the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, slamming the door shut behind her.
Shart, having been summoned by Badgelor, was laughing. Badgelor had laughed, too, until SueLeeta suggested that he be examined for life cysts as well. Then, he’d somehow bolted through one of those very tiny windows, because he was a traitor. The two women had done the impossible. They’d turned what should have been an erotic experience into the most clinical thing that ever happened to me.
Chapter 54: The Morning After
The next morning, I was sitting in the guard room, drinking a small cup of herbal tea with Fenris. I was wearing my fully repaired armor.
“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” I stated.
“Did they use a sheet?” he asked.
“Yes, it was very clinical,” I sighed. Shart snorted.
“Well, they milked a few cysts on you for healing energy. I’m sorry to say that it was very undignified, but your good fortune is going to let a great number of men live. Men that might otherwise die in the bandit attack.”
“Did they mention where they cysts were?” I asked.
“One does not ask where the cysts were. One does not tell where the cysts were” stated Fenris. “One just drinks the healing potion like a good soldier.”
A good soldier.
The draining process had taken the rest of the day and was very draining. While only mildly uncomfortable, I had gotten so bored that I fell asleep at some point. I would not have normally fallen asleep with two women busy on my privates, but I trusted them not to molest me in my sleep. They were after my life-sustaining pus, nothing more.
Now, Jarra the Healer and SueLeeta were busy making healing potions. I still hadn’t made any potions, just simple poisons; I could make those in the field. A potion seemed to require a number of components, such as healing root, honey, and a catalyst. Plus, you needed a pot or other cookware to make it in.
Other than the catalyst, everything else was easy to come by. SueLeeta had let slip that OttoSherman had been finding hives every so often. An apiary had been established at one of the farms as an add on. With the herb garden and the apiary, the basic ingredients for potion making had been satisfied, with the exception of the catalyst.
Jarra the Healer was enough of an alchemist to be able to produce small amounts of weak catalyst through Reduction, a sub skill of Alchemy. However, the local plants were not very strong catalysts; even with Jarra’s skill, there just wasn’t much that she could do. She had literally handed me her entire stock of 2 potions.
Healing Potion, minor: Heals 24 hit points over 10 seconds.
Her abilities made the potion 20% stronger than a base potion, which would have only restored 20 points. That didn’t sound impressive, until you realized that most people had fewer than 100 hit points. Furthermore, it was flat magical healing. If I’d had my fingers cut off, but was still in possession of them, I could have pressed them into the stumps. Upon drinking this potion, the fingers would have readhered themselves to my hand. At least, that’s what Fenris, SueLeeta and Jarra the Healer had claimed.
That bit was somewhat of a challenge for my poor Earth brain to follow, but I was willing to take the words of experts, to some degree. After all, my fingers had regenerated. That would have been impossible on Earth. Ordinal was weird.
SueLeeta had brought in the new healing potion as soon as the first batch was finished.
Activated Healing Potion, moderate: Heals 48 hit points over 8 seconds.
That was much better. Better still, Jarra had many uncatalyzed potions that she’d brought. She had originally intended to trade them but had changed her plan. Jarra was currently looting them to make actual healing potions. We’d have around 20 vials by battle time.
Fenris whistled. “A moderate healing potion sells for 4 gold,” he stated.
“I have seen activated potions
sell for more than their base counterparts as well,” stated Zorlando. He strolled into the room, twirling his mustache. “I would say you could get 5 gold per potion, if you were to sell them in Narwal. You might get even more, if you sold them closer to the front lines.”
That would have reflected an additional 100 gold pieces to the town coffers, but I wasn’t planning on doing that.
Zorlando, Fenris, and I walked to the courtyard where the Mercenaries and militia had assembled. They had stopped drilling and were just finishing up with the morning meal. All conversation died away, as they saw me approach.
The Mercenaries were all armed with pikes, and many had shortbows, maces, swords, and other assorted weapons. Their uniforms were more consistent, with leather being common and a bit of chain here and there. All the Mercenaries wore the same blue tabard; it was easy to identify them.
My militia were all armed with stout leather jackets, with bits of iron covering the more vital areas.
Leather sleeves and pants completed the armor, with more metal at the joints and shins. They were armed with shortbows, like in the previous battle. Now, they also had daggers, though I noticed a small variety of other weapons were also being carried. Additionally, they had some ‘short’ spears that were only 5 feet long. Those were backups; the main intention was to use the men for their archery skills. Each man had a large red scarf wrapped around his left arm for luck.
I jumped to the top of a crate near the mustering field. It would have been impressive as hell on Earth; here I would have been surprised if there was a man on the field that couldn’t have done it.
I was about to give a rousing speech. I was quite certain it would go down in history as one of the great orations in Windfall’s history. It was going to be an Independence Day level of an epic speech. I opened my mouth, only to immediately cut myself off.
A runner was making a mad dash into the courtyard. He stopped, gasped for breath, and looked around desperately. As I was standing on top of a crate, I was the first person he saw. He seemed to recognize that I was the one in charge.
“Mayor,” he screamed, “Windfall is under attack by goblins.”
Well that uncomplicates things.
“Men, we return to Windfall.” I called out. “We will defend the town!”
Chapter 55: Windfall in Danger
It took us less than 5 minutes to get marching. It was easier than the men had trained for; we weren’t taking the wagons or trade supplies with us. Windfall was a brisk 3 hour walk from the Western Gate Fortress, and it was along a well-traveled road. SueLeeta headed out front as a scout, and I got into the main column of the force. I had brought all the Mercenaries and militia that I’d planned for battle with, even though I hadn’t planned for this particular battle. The five guards at the Western Gate Fortress were given orders to only allow refugees through.
Now, back in the valley, I had yet to physically notice anything strange. I reviewed the town map again; everything appeared normal. For the first time, I regretted the lack of quests from the town; they would have told me if something like an attack was going on. I remembered that I still had access to the town quest log, so I reviewed it.
The town had a few minor quests regarding goblin sightings over the last few days. Now, there were a bunch of them. It seemed that goblins had surrounded the town, and quests were generated to go and kill them. With Fenris, SueLeeta, and I all away, no one was there to sufficiently handle goblin quests.
We were an hour away from Windfall when I saw a flashing red icon in the bottom corner of my vision.
The Windfall Mine is under Siege. The barrier is being challenged by an enemy war party. In four hours, the Windfall barrier will be reduced by 25%.
“The town’s barrier is shrinking,” I thought to Shart, more than a bit alarmed.
“Yes, that’s basically how sieges work with barriers,” he responded. “A war party sits outside the barrier and waits for their energy to cause it to shrink. If their group is large enough, shrinkage is a definite possibility.”
“So, it just keeps shrinking?” I asked.
“No, it eventually pops,” replied the demon. “If the size gets below a level 1 barrier, it will pop and cease to exist. If that happens, the barrier must recharge itself before it can be raised again.
“Which it can’t do while it's being attacked,” I stated.
“You got it,” he replied.
“How many goblins would it take to shrink Windfall’s barrier?”
“Not as many as you’d hope,” replied the demon. “It's partially based on residency, after all. Windfall is chronically underpopulated.”
“Didn’t the town level up when the refugees arrived?” I asked. “The ThooClicky villagers would have put the population over 100.
“You made them temporary citizens, Dum Dum, because you are a Dum Dum,” replied the demon. “Temporary citizens don’t count toward a town’s population. “
Shit. “What do you think they are going to do?” I asked the demon.
“Shrink the barrier, take the mine, squish you down to the walls, and then attack in force to overrun the town,” replied the demon. “That’s pretty standard barrier siege work. I doubt they need to be cleverer than that.”
I didn’t have an answer to that, so we continued marching.
Zorlando was busy explaining to SueLeeta how the valley came to be. It was not at all interesting. SueLeeta looked as if she truly regretted returning to give us a scouting report. Zorlando was obviously trying to get into her pants, and she wasn’t having any of it. The main problem with walking everywhere is that you had plenty of time to talk, though, so he kept at it.
“The Gate Fortresses were constructed about 8,000 years ago, prior to the time of kings,” stated Zorlando, as he droned on with his latest stretch of explanation. SueLeeta walked to the front of the column and joined me. She gave me a pained look as Zorlando also caught up.
“No one knows who constructed them. There are many possible candidates from the early times,” he continued.
“Glasob,” stated Shart, as I pondered.
“Glasob?” I asked.
Zorlando paused and looked at me funny. I must have said it out loud, instead of just thinking it to Shart. “Well, Glasob is one possibility. He was a major player in the early politics of the region. However, the fortresses predate much of the written histories of the area. I never figured you as a history buff.”
Shart chuckled. I had been distracted, because Zorlando WAS a history buff. One could only listen to a long discussion about pointless minutia for so long.
“What happened to Bashara?” I asked SueLeeta.
“She went into the valley for a bit, got attacked by a wolf, and decided to leave,” stated SueLeeta. Altering the pitch of her voice to mimic Bashara, she added, “Want to wipe the mud of this hick valley off my shoes.”
“Good enough,” I stated. I liked Bashara, but she was certainly not someone I’d want to bring into battle. I thought back to our fight and realized that she had been lucky that I hadn’t killed her. She’d been barely capable as a Wizard.
Huh. That didn’t seem right.
We all walked in a column. The Mercenaries were leading. The militia followed them. We’d been walking for over 2 hours now. The Mercenaries were holding up pretty well, but my militia was getting tired. I used Lore to check out everyone; the Mercenaries all had Hiking as a skill, while only about 1 in 4 of my men did.
“Shart, we walk everywhere. Why don’t the militia have the Hiking skill?” I asked.
“It's pretty hard to learn most skills, actually,” stated the demon.
“I don’t seem to have much of a problem learning skills,” I replied.
“I think you learn skills so easily because of your Unlimited ability. Normally, you need to have level 1 in a specific class or be trained in a skill by a trainer,” stated Shart.
“But some of them have the hiking skill,” I continued.
“Some of t
hem spent their precious skill selection on Hiking because we tend to walk everywhere,” replied Shart, “Even the lowliest person gets a few skills to choose from as they grow up.”
“That’s how Jarra learned her skills?” I asked.
“Who?”
“Jarra the Healer,” I responded curtly.
“Oh, yes, mostly,” stated the demon, “Some skills don’t have requirements. Those are usually the most basic skills. Other skills can be acquired by doing something enough times. For example, if we marched your militia for enough miles, they would all learn the Hiking skill. However, a trainer could make that happen in a realistic time frame.”
“Explain that better,” I demanded. “Just to make sure I really get it and don’t need to ask the right follow up questions.”
“Don’t be pissy.” replied Shart. “Mana Control. People don’t just pick that skill up, ever. Other things, like Carpentry, are impossible without tools and training. Anyone can pick a flower, though, so Jarra the Healer started out picking flowers and herbs. When she got enough experience in that, she learned of Basic Alchemy. That’s when she got a trainer, because Basic Alchemy is kind of dangerous. Her parents were not going to let her try that alone, were they? However, if she had been out in the middle of nowhere, she would have eventually learned the skill on her own.
“Okay. I think that makes sense,” I stated.
“To get the healer title, you have to be able to make potions and have the Healing skill. You can heal people without the title, obviously, but it’s much easier to get respect if you have it. After Jarra the Healer learned Alchemy to a useful level, she started working as a blower,” stated Shart, “in a glass shop.”
“You did that on purpose,” I said.
“Yes,” replied the demon, “Finally, after all of that, she had to actually start healing people. You get a bonus from having Herbalism and Alchemy, but she still found a teacher. Accidents with Healing never go well. Eventually, she got up to an Initiate rank and went to work for herself.”