Myrn was an excellent leader. It showed in her sudden confidence when surrounded by her friends, and the most when she was in battle. She was an unstoppable force socially. Her vibrant red hair drew the eyes of everyone when she entered a room or strode on the street. The likeness of gemstones caught in her sapphire blue iris's fixed her target in place with her intent gaze regardless of their being friend or foe. Once Marvin and Andy were part of the team she was determined to find each and every opportunity to get Ivan and Davian ready to approach the Dungeon.
Mornings included exercise, drills, and formation practices before breakfast, and then always a hearty meal afterward whether Myrn hunted it herself or bought from the various Inns the group stayed in. It was a familiar and easy routine for Ivan to fall into. Then, they moved about as they could, finding and tracking down all postings they could manage along their way. Pickings were thick all of a sudden, the Army of Light seemingly in disarray after a change in management. There was a great deal of grumbling to be heard as they went, but also many people put back onto the roads to spot the problems as they returned to their homes.
Towns were reaching out to their lost villagers and requesting aid from all sorts of adventurers. 'Isaac' was volunteered for a number of 'Healer Required' jobs under Myrn's aegis. Her confidence carried with the various associations that governed and managed Adventurer work. Her family had a long standing reputation for integrity and picking out previously unknown talents to add to their teams. That got him ‘in the door’ without suffering scrutiny that would reveal his identity.
For all that Ivan overheard this or that comment about her parents remaining imprisoned; the people seemed to know her at a sight if not quickly putting face to name once she introduced herself. At first he thought this enough to get him discovered, but beside her dazzling presence he was taken as just another uprooted diamond in the rough Myrn had cleaned up and managed to find a use for. People welcomed him, and word of his ability to care grew as rumors about the nameless strange man combined with tales of this new 'Isaac' being dragged along by that 'Owlfeather Adventurer girl'. He got a comment or two about that, but as he cured fevers, colds, and infections they faded.
People smiled at him, but halted over words of praise once said by the followers of Istania on their lips before they corrected themselves. Eyes heavy with worried thoughts thanked him then, all the more earnest for knowing that the God he might have followed was now gone from their world. At times Ivan wished he could mend that suffering ache as well, but there was no balm for that pain. No even just for himself.
Were she alive he knew his Goddess would have smiled upon his work. -And for that matter Tanya would have been a great boon for the many more serious cases that could not be mended in an afternoon. Still the people complained happily about the scars his stitching would leave on cuts, or the stink, or tastes of his medicine as they happily gulped them down or applied them to burns. -And still he wondered how much more he could have done with his squires at his side, and perhaps with a few young acolytes besides.
It helped that he was one of dozens of healers that had secreted themselves away from the fighting to shine now when the people most needed it. The magically gifted healers, so common to the area, and those with powerful combat jobs were still being detained. Ivan hated Theadus all the more for his insistence on keeping back all the people who could help the struggling villagers, but it was also his chance to gain much needed experience.
Penelope still urged some caution, but even she couldn't argue with Myrn's insistence. Ivan saw more patients under her determined whirlwind pace than he ever could have managed on his own. It helped that she and the others would spread out in their new areas, helping, finding postings, locating monsters, and the like. That removed his need to do anything but focus on his next patient. They would find or call for him to come to the next injured person, companion creature, or sick child before he was done treating the first.
In that manner he missed much of Davian's additional training, but happily enough. The Bard embraced what he could and approached learning the sword with the others eagerly. They had him run laps, and forced him to dance as he played his instruments at night. They had him spar and duel with everyone, including Myrn, and sometimes Ivan too. When they had down time Davian was drilled and re-drilled on formation movement, and his spatial awareness.
Myrn would hide and throw blunted wool tipped darts at him through the day. Marvin would casually hip or shoulder check Davian so that he might remember to always stand in a balanced stance. Andy was less subtle, but supportive and open with comments and reminders. He spent a good deal of time coaching Davian; especially loving to do so as Andy dragged the Bard into heavy labor tasks like hauling fresh supplies and food into buildings and other establishments. It was all done as part of the aid effort, but the newly formed team found a way to train Davian through it regardless.
Monster hunts were more serious. Davian was put to the test from time to time, and coached by Myrn and Andy to best bring out his physical attributes and combine them with his spell casting ability.
“You great ugly beast, they call you a hog, but I would make a real pig my wife if only it made things like you disappear from the world!” Davian snarled at a Fangle Mouth Boar.
Myrn and Ivan shared a look, but then Davian slashed his hand through the air toward the beast.
The horrible bloody maw of the beast slammed shut as an invisible magic force plowed its low head into the dirt. Davian took that chance to dash forward, rapier held low, and thrust twice into the beast's left eye. His practice had paid off, and though he had no martial skills to reinforce his blows he still landed them demonstrating the much needed mundane skill of accuracy. The result of his efforts left the beast's great eye popped, blood and worse running down its face as it screamed in pain and rage.
Ivan nodded, pleased that Davian was remembering the advice he had given him about the long bladed thrusting weapon.
“You have to keep in mind that your blade isn't a typical sword. Of the ways we will choose to attack an enemy you can only really replicate any of us in the thrust. Rapier's are a duelist's tool, and they benefit from agility and dexterity both in that manner. Use them to target critical areas on a single opponent. The weapon will do you very little good if you're surrounded, but that's where speed and positioning are key.”
“Remember your stance, your position in the formation, what is at your feet, at your back, and be ready to strike. The eyes, the liver, the heart, and other critical areas in the meat of the legs and upper arms. Punch a hole in the right places and your foe will lose the will and energy needed to fight. If the thrust doesn't eventually kill them, a critically placed blow will at least push them away from the fight or severely dampen their effectiveness.” Ivan had told him, watching the bard's face turn gray as Ivan's fingers outlined just where to strike on a man the night before.
Davian's attack goaded the beast, but he was ready. He used the Dancer Skill, Side Step, and slid across the ground as if he had just come out of a sprint and tried to stop on thick dust. The Boar's enormous head thrashed in the open air, and Davian quickly thrust forward, keeping his arm fully extended and body away from the beast as best he could.
Either hit delved eight inches or more into the beast's neck as Davian made two rapid attacks. The creature had the thickness of a Bull Cow, but with a longer body, giant head and tusked maw it used to turn the earth and devour its prey. All together the creature likely weighed as much as three of the familiar domestic Wooly Bison.
Each of the fresh wounds immediately ran with heavy blood, but it wasn't enough to suggest the artery. Davian's face soured, but he kept on, moving at a run while throwing up his hand. His mouth moved, but the sound of both his voice and feet came from another location on the beasts blinded side with him.
The creature chased after the sound.
“Ventriloquist's Distraction. An illusion type sound spell.” Myrn provided.
Ivan nodded, satisfied with Davian's clever use of it.
“He's taking advantage of its poor sight, and further blindness. Good.” He commented idly.
Davian dashed to the rear of the massive creature this time under the cover of his spell as it went for the illusion. He hesitated for a moment, but then sort of shrugged to himself as he moved in, rapier flashing.
The creature...well it squealed, but even Myrn made a face at how pained it was. It appeared that the pain was so intense the creature lost control of its back legs. Davian continued his attack, flicking the razor edge of his blade hard into the hamstrings of the beast, and then on to a two handed thrust to its belly, aiming up and into the ribcage toward the heart.
It was a good strike, but he committed a moment too long and nearly lost a few days to Ivan's ministrations as the creature swung its great head at him as it finally figured out where he was. The effort however tore one of its weakened hamstrings and its charge fell dead as it slid into the dirt instead of charging Davian down. Blood gushed from its mouth as the effort stressed internal damage.
“Certainly cut through something important that time.” Marvin commented.
The group shared looks and idle nods.
“You foul, stinking creature! Is that all you have? Toro, I say! Toro, so called 'magic beast'!” Davian snarled, whipping out his off hand in that same gesture he had used before.
Again unseen magic slammed into the creature like a hammer, and it tottered on its wounded legs. The remaining back leg trembled in pain, and its single eye gaze a baleful glare at the Bard.
It snorted out blood and foam and went after him in spite of its poor state then.
Davian dodged this time on his own, but failed to land a solid hit. His dodge hadn't been enough to give him time to strike even if it did get him out of the way well enough. The creature didn't stop this time, and even slowed by its injured leg it would have made good time making it toward the rest of the group.
Davian acted quickly. He snapped the fingers of his left hand, and spoke words of a chant, but they were lost to Ivan's ears.
Something like an unseen giant drum was struck against the Fangle Mouth Boar's head turning it away from the group. Its remaining eye spun and its ears bled as it charged off into a tree. Davian was quickly on the creature again, nimbly able to dance through the low foliage and trees to get the creature though his efforts lacked stealth.
He slashed at its remaining good ankle using the long blade of the silver rapier like a whip, and the stiff tendon and tight skin there came apart under its razor sharp and enchanted blade tip.
Ivan tried to address the ringing in his ears from that drum beat spell of overwhelming sound. Myrn nodded, and said something, but he didn't catch it with his hearing disrupted. Instead he watched Davian.
The Bard threw out another of his insult spells it seemed, and the creature went after him again, weaker than it had been before. Davian dodged to the side, looking a little uncertain, but he saw his moment to strike as it was coming to him.
He snapped his finger again, producing a much less potent sound somewhere near the thing's head, and it went after it. At that very moment Davian struck. In a mirror of his last two handed strike he went in with both hands crowded into the wire basket hilt, his stance just about perfect, and thrust his blade into the creature's exposed neck and up toward its skull from behind.
The enchanted blade tip easily bit through hide and bone with its master's weight behind it. The monster boar jerked and went stiff, but Davian again showed that he listened. He stepped away with the grace of his Dancer’s job carrying him far, and then seeing his foe struggling in the hands of death, put it on its way. The last strike he put through its heart, deep in through the ribs with a confident and graceful thrust.
The boar jerked weakly once again, tried in the last efforts of life to rise and run, but only drove itself that much faster into the grave as its many wounds ran with hot foamy blood and seeming gallons of vitae fountained from its mouth.
Creatures like this were tough even without the self healing Green Jungle Tiger, but likewise the Tiger stayed in trees to keep away from things with deadly maws like what came from the deadly Fangle Mouth Boar. A herd of these creatures could flatten a village if left to reproduce and grow in number. They were mostly carnivorous things after all, only eating plant matter when it was the only food to be found.
They weren't great to eat, but their bone, tooth, ivory, and hide came in large albeit unshapely amounts, but remained incredibly useful. Ivan was eager to grind some of the inner horn and the soft material within the hooves after accessing the Infinite Library time after time recently. By itself it wasn’t too potent a material, but it could be mixed in to bolster the effect of certain recovery potions he now had the recipes for. It would take some money or searching for the other materials, but with Myrn to aid him it was almost a sure thing.
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He had even idly learned something of the creature just now as he watched the fight. It still made his head ache, but using mana to learn things easily was incredible. It had taken him a great deal of effort to earn scribe on his own, and he had been guided by the Goddess the whole while, but he saw her wisdom now. As long as he had the Infinite Library he would be able to expand his knowledge as long as he could manage to feed and care for himself. -And that would only get easier as he learned more and more.
The cycle would keep him advancing and he could do it while committed to other work or tasks as well. It was perfect. Well at least it would be when doing it didn't make his head ache.
Myrn hurried off to Davian's side. Marvin and Andy followed idly, both giving light applause for Davian. Ivan waited, sensing that Penelope had something she wanted to say.
“You should get more girls in your party.” Penelope complained.
Ivan rolled his eyes.
“Or at least some boys with better butts.”
Ivan didn't even give that the dignity of a response.
“Jealous?” Penelope teased.
“I'll go over with them if you keep this up.” Ivan warned.
Penelope laughed, but grew serious. She even sat up straight and put her hands in her lap.
“I like it when you're happy. I haven't seen you like this. It's nice.” She told him.
Ivan sensed it wasn't all she had to say, but humored her.
“Have you thought about how you're going to turn them over to your side?” She asked.
Ivan hesitated. He hadn't been thinking of that. He hadn't been thinking of that at all.
“Myrn will be easy enough, you'll be an incubus soon, and she's got enough pent up frustration that she's been picking up on your change already. She's decided she likes you, and that you're more interesting than these other boys besides.”
Ivan rolled his eyes.
“She's just friendly, and likes to drink.”
“She likes to drink because she's sad and has a guilty conscience. She likes you because you're dark and mysterious and she knows you've done the same things she's done. She doesn't know you've done them to summon demons, but she shares some part of your anger. You feel it don't you? You've got some sense of it. I can tell.” Penelope went on.
“Threads.” Ivan whispered, he watched as Myrn and the others laughed at Davian's reluctance at being assigned the task to skin and quarter the monster he had felled.
“Threads?” Penelope asked, intrigued. “Threads? Like webs aren't they? You must have taken a liking to Quixla's influence as little as it is. It makes sense, but it doesn't mean I'm not jealous.”
Ivan kept his comments about her eager jealousy to himself.
“Is that what Quixla is? A spider?” Ivan asked.
“Hmmm...don't have that information in the Infinite Library eh?” Penelope teased.
Ivan sighed.
“She is a spider, or used to be. She's not originally a demon spider, but became one in flesh. The people of her world managed to banish her long ago. Her flesh lives, but is sealed within an idol and shrine upon that world. She's been gaining power to break the seal, but having an anchor weakens her. It makes her easy to find, the ministrations of the priests tending the shrine weaken her, and she could be easily killed or controlled if a demon managed to find her shrine on that world. With the idol in hand she would have to do whatever that demon demanded.” Penelope explained.
“Making her a slave essentially?” Ivan asked.
“Yes.” Penelope answered.
“And what about you? Are you friends or allies with her out of the kindness of your heart?” Ivan asked.
Penelope laughed, a gentle, mirth filled little laugh.
“For favor certainly, but also for friendship. Quixla is powerful despite her minor status as a demon, and will be great one day. I don't mind being the one to help lift her shackles if it means I will be more secure the day she's free.” She admitted, and then grinned.
“She tells great stories too, and personally I like how she became the way she is. Tiny little monster to a nation devouring demon in just a few short decades.” Penelope said, giggling and humming as she leaned forward into the faceless darkness.
She knew he sensed her every movement and breath, and her hands glided up her thighs to her hips and then up toward her breasts taunting him.
“It's a story I would very much like to see a repeat of myself...my.. little.. monster...” She teased.
Ivan had to push thoughts of her out of his head or he would end up entering the Shroud and...no.. No. Ivan couldn't think of that. Just doing that brought into focus parts of Penelope that only made such thoughts worse. And worse still she could feel it when he was getting frustrated with his own desires, and she would tease him relentlessly whenever that happened too. Even just those thoughts were enough to send her into giggles, and make her wiggle her new chest about.
“Can you make them easier to influence?” Ivan asked.
Penelope's laughter cut short, and she gazed into the darkness with a narrow gaze that promised nothing but violence.
“I wouldn't dare let them have a taste of you.” He growled in response, it came unbidden from a deep part of his mind.
He knew he was growing possessive of Penelope, but this had surprised him. The idea of anyone touching her before he could...before he could what? He followed the sensation and instinct to its end, and brought up the Demonology Spell School in his mind. He fed mana into it, closing his eyes, and focusing as he poured magic into the ability much like he did every time he used Infinite Library. Accessing the knowledge of a Spell School was considerably cheaper however, and there was less mental strain caused by absorbing the knowledge as well.
It stung his mind, but more and more he found he wanted to know how and why things worked. The knowledge was right there too, just waiting for him to reach out and take it. Like Penelope. She was there, waiting for something, and part of him wanted desperately to know what that was. His understanding expanded and when he came back to himself he noticed Penelope's blush, made obvious within the senses of the Shroud.
When she felt his focus on her again she smiled, and covered herself coyly with her wings and arms. Ivan and her both knew that did nothing to stop his sense of her in that place, but the act did convey something important to Ivan. His conscious mind couldn't put words to what exactly that was, but it made Penelope grin even more all the same. The expression on her face was mad with glee as she fought to keep herself from breaking into giggles of insane delight.
Very suddenly his head began to ache then. He winced and chided himself for using too much mana, but the stinging remained in his mind for only a moment before clarity struck. He blinked, and shook his head, and found himself throwing up his hand in his usual gesture to summon his scroll.
Congratulations! You've pondered and studied your way to the Standard Class Job of Scholar!
As a level 1 Scholar you may take a black and white impression of whatever lies behind your scroll. This includes landscapes, documents, paintings, and other forms of media. You may share collected information through your conjured scroll, and display it on a scroll of any size or shape you wish(size and brightness may change mana consumption rate)!
Scholar Level 1 Perk: Improved Inspection. Your Inspect spells are increased in potency and access higher level knowledge from within the Infinite Library. This has a side effect of increasing the potency of other inspection type perception powers, in this case, your Thief Skill, Basic Appraisal, will give you more accurate suspicions of an items value--until of course you find the time away from its previous owner to properly inspect your ill gotten gains!
Scholar Level 1 Skill: Spell Scroll Magic: Your knowledge of Ritual Magic and the Demonology Spell School have manifested this skill as your first. You may now enact spells and rituals within your Schools of Knowledge and begin on the road to mastery over them in this manner.
This functions as a flexible, if slow, spell casting ability as you will need to form and layout the exact structure of the spell, its coherent parts, and pronounce its current level of chant before firing the spell. This is the precursor skill to a Librarians' 'Prepare Spell Scroll' skill, and until you gain that Job you will not be able to store ready to use spells upon your scroll or upon material media.
Attribute Perks: Scholar gives large advances to Intelligence and Perception with each level. Wisdom, Insight, and Mental Fortitude increase at a moderate rate with each level. Scholar gives very minor advancement to all other standard attributes with each level as a final addition.
Ivan's current understanding was enough to know that most magic Combat Jobs included some kind of spontaneous spell casting perk that provided a limited number of spells to use like Martial abilities. His Paladin Job had been like that and came with ‘Istania’s Favor’ as a first perk. That had allowed him three spells: Heal, Cleanse, and Cure.
By using those spells he could earn Mastery over them, as many skill-like abilities provided by Perks and Advanced Skills often required to increase their effectiveness when the ordinary system of levels didn’t apply. Levels in jobs gave attribute points that increased their attribute dependent Skill’s effectiveness overall, but the largest gains one could make in speed of use, effect on target, effect duration, or spell casting requirements came from increasing Mastery.
His own Steal Skill Ability had Mastery for example. The more he used it the better odds he would have of stealing something valuable, and doing so would increase the likelihood of gaining perks that further aided the ability.
Which made Spell Scroll Magic amazing even if it would be difficult to use in combat.
If Ivan found a book of Pyromancy Spells, even one of extremely high level, if he could afford or otherwise manage the mana cost with items he could cast that magic! He blinked, and put a hand to his head. He had just opened a door that could lead his progress in magic any direction he chose.
Just as Steal and its designation as Shadow Magic was helping to awaken his own Spark, earning Mastery over any School of Spell could essentially be used to encourage the awakening of any spark he wished! Of course that wasn’t as simple as it seemed and would take a great deal of time and effort, but it could be done. The possibilities abounded and ran through his mind in a tide.
Ritual Magics raced through his mind alongside Demonology Spells that could summon flaming imps, hexing shades, and other minor creatures to the material realm. Anything with shadowy and dark magic involved was suddenly coming to mind. Even then he simply ached to use more magic no matter its color. Penelope's borrowed spells and abilities made available through the magic of the Shroud came to mind as an easy to grasp source of magic that would drain his magic dry in moments.
His limbs pulsed with pain, and slow burning fire that made him grind his teeth in impatience. Before he could decide if he really wanted to do it or not there was a circle forming itself on the scroll. It was a minor binding of the Demonology 1 School, fit for the first binding of a shade, or other minor demon with little presence to anchor it to this world. He raced through its construction, and the mirror of its design appeared beneath Penelope within the Shroud. He had the spell finished and ready before he was able to reign in control, but thankfully he hadn't activated the magic quite yet.
He was sweating, and panting loudly. He had fallen to one knee as well and was struggling to keep upright.
“They'll notice...” Penelope whispered to him.
Ivan's hand clenched, and his scroll burst into etheric purple flames as he held back the magic on the point of bursting.
“They'll see and feel it....” She whispered again, her voice pleading and gentle.
Ivan's head burned as he held the magic at bay. He wanted to fire off as much of it as he could. He wanted to commit to ritual after ritual if he could. That exhaustion..he finally understood what was beyond it. He needed....he needed…–His mind blurred with too many desires. They overlapped and overwhelmed him for a few moments.
Then in a moment of bleary clarity he realized what he really needed was to calm down.
He let out a shaking breath, and clutched his head with both hands. There was immense pressure behind his eyes, and his thoughts ran at a gallop thinking of a thousand things at once. He fought with himself and his thoughts, knocking down each errant idea, and tangential thought until it was just his aching being and Penelope in his head.
He tried to get up, and stumbled into a nearby tree the group had been using for cover. He didn't know how long he stood there against it panting, but time seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace.
He felt Myrn's concern, bright and gentle to his senses, before he felt her hand on his shoulder. He may have moved regardless of that and caused her some small response. His head was spinning too much for him to be sure at that point.
“Shh...Ivan...It's just me. It's okay.” Her hands gently touched his own, and brought them down from his eyes.
She had positioned herself to shadow him from the sun as best she could and she gave him a gentle smile as he made out her face in the shadows. Her blue eyes shone with interest all the same without reflecting the brilliant daylight as she saw something in his eyes.
“Is it supposed to hurt this bad?” He asked.
“It can, I suppose. Mine came when I was a kid though. My parents thought I was sick at first, but those were the complaints of a child. If you're struggling with it though this pain is a lot different than what I felt. The others are going to find a decent camping spot nearby. It will be easier if we don't have to haul all this meat in tonight, and it will give Davian extra time to do the work properly.” She explained, her voice gentle.
She hesitated a moment before quickly coming forward and kissing his brow. She immediately blushed however.
“Sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I know you're...” She lost track of her words as Ivan caught her eye, her expressive hand frozen in the gesture she was making.
“You're beautiful Myrn. I don't think any man in his right mind would complain if you kissed him. Even if it's just on the forehead or the cheek.”
He sighed, or meant to at least. It sort of came out as a harsh huff and pained growl, but still he shrugged at Myrn’s surprised expression.
“It's maybe a little more sisterly than I'd like from you, but I suppose it's okay right now.” He admitted with a light edge of humor added to his voice.
Myrn's blush deepened a little, but her expression relaxed a little. Her eyes seemed to dance with their own light. She pulled her hands away from him suddenly, but not roughly. She smiled, and then blushed, and smiled again before shifting her feet. She looked about ready to run or melt in place.
“Seeing you blush like that is a painkiller of its own, but maybe I should mix myself something and just lay down before I get any more honest.” Ivan said then, saving her from the awkward moment she seemed stuck in.
Ivan blinked at himself internally, stunned with his words' smooth delivery and effect.
“Heh.” Penelope barked in a dry mocking laugh. “Thief does give charisma, but even just a few points seems to carry with you. Pretty boys are so much trouble.”
Myrn dropped her eyes for a moment, and then glanced back at the others. When she saw that the coast was clear her eyes went wide and sharp, and she stepped forward again.
“Maybe this will help.” She muttered before stepping close and kissing him full on the mouth.
She probably meant to just kiss him lightly, but that wasn't what happened. Ivan leaned into the kiss just a breath after her soft lips touched his own, and that drove her on. Her cheeks practically scorched Ivan's own for their heat for several long moments, but she pulled away with a smile all the same. Kissing her wasn't the heavenly mind fogging high of kissing Penelope, but it was soft, warm, and sweet as freshly baked apple pie and refreshing as cold spring water. It was something he knew he would want again, and it was delightfully refreshing to his spirit.
“I'll bring you some fresh water...from the spring...down that way...” She offered sheepishly as she turned away trying to bury the awkwardness she must have felt behind a smile she couldn't hide.
It didn't help her at all that the grace of a clean walk and confident walk away was probably not within her possession with her distracted this badly. She stumbled once, mostly because she wouldn't stop looking back at him, and flushed red to match her hair once again before she finally mustered her control. Myrn was a jovial, and friendly type to his mind, but Ivan had worked some little charm on her this time.
Ivan let out a satisfied sigh as she left, but then violently shook his head.
That...really, really didn't help its aching, but he deserved it for what he just did.
“Trouble. Capital T. Like. I. Just. Said.” Penelope complained, throwing up her arms in exasperation.
Ivan grabbed his head with both hands again and groaned.
“At least you have clear taste. In this new form I could probably slip on those fitted leather pants she looks so good in with no trouble at all. You know, if I wore pants. --Those underwear she has are cute too. Maybe I could wear a little something like that when I'm on the outside again. Just that though, and maybe a little string across the top. Ooh~~! -Something with a little black lace maybe?” Penelope mused while inspecting herself and turning this way and that.
Ivan's groan momentarily turned to a half laughing whimper as his head throbbed and he wondered how he was ever going to get anywhere if he couldn't keep control of himself and the Succubus in his head.