Using his [Eyes of the Healer] Joe could see how much was wrong with Runkbadok’s back yet almost everything he tried failed. The bundles of fat and twisted muscle seemed like something Joe’s healing should easily be able to repair. Nonetheless, all he seemed to be able to do was to remove the pain caused by the hump, not affecting the mass itself. The damage to Runk’s spine was correctable but the curvature caused by the hump was not. This meant the pain would return.
Joe was flummoxed. This should easily be in his ability to rectify. His spells had healed plenty of lipomas, cysts, and abscesses before. There was no reason he could think of why Runkbadok’s condition was resisting him so thoroughly. He eased as much of the striped man’s discomfort as he could before admitting he would have to call it quits for the time being.
“Not to worry, young man,” Runkbadok consoled. “It has been there for many a year. I’m used to Humpy riding my back.”
“Still,” Joe replied, staring at the tenacious mass, “I should be able to fix it. It’s fighting me somehow. Let me see if I can figure it out. Even if you are used to it, I think you’ll be happier being able to stand up straight again.”
Joe received a pat on the arm before the old nu turned to exchange another round of good-natured raillery with Halten. Joe took that time to tend to Berti and Ord Catstaff. They, like the old landlord, had a garden variety of ailments that age carried with it. After the frustration of failures with Runk, it was nice to have his healing magic work as it was supposed to again.
As he worked, he noticed Mahq, the Catstaff’s grandson walking about the atrium. As he wandered, Joe could see the plants moving slightly around him. The leaves turned towards the boy and vines seemed to lift and extend in his direction. It was as if the young man was the sun itself and the flora near him was stretching to reach him. Mahq seemed oblivious to the greenery’s efforts; he just ambled around the courtyard humming to himself. As Joe looked back along the path the boy had walked, he noticed there were more bright blooms of flowers where Mahq had been than where he was headed to. Joe’s sun analogy seemed to be on the nose.
Joe was holding Ord’s hand and the older man noticed his surprise. “Ah yes. Mahq always had a way with plants,” he stated. “Animals too. Natural born druid.”
“Do you mind me asking then why he has not alleviated your arthritis pain?” Joe asked.
“He just can’t seem to understand people the same way he does wildlife,” Berti supplied with a wistful expression looking towards her grandson. “We had hoped Raliana, Halten’s wife, would have become his mentor but she passed a few years back. There are a few other druids in Fort Coral but none of them understood Mahq as well as Raliana did.”
Joe sensed something underlying Berti’s words but he did not comprehend what it was until Mahq stepped up to him. The young man seemed to be in his late teens. It was hard to gauge his build as everything he wore was long and baggy. It was the eyes that suggested the youth was a bit different. He wore a far-off expression, even when speaking to his grandparents.
“The garden likes him,” Mahq uttered in a flat voice, giving the subtlest of shrugs in Joe’s direction. “He has no roots but he is full of life anyway. Is Mister Rigg keeping him?”
“Yes, Mahq,” Ord replied. “He will be staying at the Abaaka House with us. Say hello to Joe, Mahq.”
The young druid’s eyes flicked to Joe for a moment before he looked away again and murmured “Hello, Joe. My name is Mahq.”
“Hi Mahq. It is very nice to meet you.” Joe was not sure if Mahq was on the spectrum but Joe had spent plenty of time with people who saw the world in different ways. He typically found the best bet was just to treat everyone with gentle manners and things tended to work out.
“The rain is coming early tomorrow,” the youth informed before turning and heading back to the apartment below Joe’s. His grandparents thanked Joe and followed the young man a minute or two later.
Joe found himself alone in the flora-draped courtyard. Halten and his striped friend had left already. Hah’roo had drifted off at some point during his healing. Like him, she probably wanted to get a few things for her place this evening before the market closed up. Joe could think of plenty he wanted to get done but it was getting late. He picked the top few things he wanted to get. The rest could wait for another day.
He quickly jogged to the market to pick up a few items. The first stall he headed for had kitchen items for sale. Joe picked up three sets of plates, bowls, mugs, and flatware. The ceramics were glazed with a pretty green color he liked. A couple of bottles of wine were added to his dim-bag next along with some rum and fruit juices. Next, he stopped at a weaver's stall and found a light blanket for his bed along with a few more pillows. Joe could not remember what pillows had come with the apartment but one thing that always bugged him was having only one or two dead-flat cushions for his head.
Lastly, he stopped to get food for dinner and something for breakfast the next day. He bought a large container of soup with some fish and vegetable skewers to go with it. He then entered the bakery across the street for rolls.
He’d have to do some real shopping eventually but this was plenty for tonight. He brought his market spoils home and puttered about his new home. He moved the table to the center of the big sea-facing windows. Laying out a place setting Joe realized that the dishes needed a bit of a washing as they were dusty from the market. His new sink sluiced the grit away but Joe realized he had no towel to dry them. He had his one adventuring towel but that was way too gross to use on something he was going to eat out of.
Then he remembered his new ring. Joe ended up having to burn two charges to get the towel clean, one for each side. He guessed that the ring cared less about mass than it did the amount of grime it had to remove. He had scrubbed his whole body with one charge earlier but, at that time, he had only been a bit sweaty. The towel, on the other hand, was only a couple of square feet but it was thoroughly saturated with blood and gore from his badboon battle.
Once the towel was clean, he used it both to dry his dishes and then as a napkin for his meal. He watched the ocean outside his windows darken, enjoying his first meal in his new home. After washing up and putting away his leftovers, Joe was still restless. As he looked around the rooms he kept picturing things to pick up for his home; a pitcher, a good comfy chair, a new rug to replace the threadbare one he had down now. He started making a mental list and then added a notepad and pen to the list since he was sure to forget some of these items if he didn’t write them down.
As he puttered around he heard small sounds coming from the atrium. Joe eased open the door to see Mahq. The boy was standing with a hand against one of the thick trunks of the climbing vines. The youth was staring upward with a furrowed brow. Joe closed the door behind himself and headed down the stairs. He walked slowly up to the young druid.
“Heya, Mahq. You ok? You look worried,” Joe noted in a gentle voice.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Tusked Tarz is hunting tonight. The owls and loons are talking about him. Tarz likes to hunt people.” Mahq delivered these lines without looking at Joe. He kept his eyes focused on the canopy of vines. His head cocked slightly, listening to the triple hoots of some far-off owl and the mournful loon calls coming from the bay.
“Who is Tusked Tarz?”
“Old manticore. Wily. Knows where the gaps in the wall guards are. He won’t come here. You are safe, Joe. He will fly into Swift Water and eat someone soon.”
Joe had heard the term Swift Water already. It was the eastern section of the community. Fort Coral did not have a slum but Swift Water was the least prosperous district of the small city. Riptides made the shoreline unusable and so only those who could not afford better lived there.
“Should we tell the guards?”
“Gran and Gramp say I shouldn’t go out at night, even though I like the night. Did you know plants dream?”
“Let’s unpack that later. I’ll go.” Joe tried to picture the city but he really only knew the market and center region well. “Ok Mahq. Where should I go? The Adventurers Guild?”
“You could but then it’d be too late. Tarz just flew over the wall,” Mahq uttered, pointing. Joe oriented himself and realized the finger was aimed towards the east but away from the shore. Grateful he had not removed his dim-bag yet for bed, Joe sprinted from the courtyard tossing on his gambeson as he went.
Scanning the sky, Joe’s night-hunter-enhanced vision picked out a shape soaring over the buildings exactly where Mahq had indicated.
“Holy crap!” Joe muttered. He had to stop for a second to buckle on his belt, never taking his eyes off the black blot spinning through the moonlit sky. Running again he drew a stone out of his bullet bag but held off on starting the spell until he was closer. Joe could only hold [Grit Razor] for so long.
The streets were fairly empty so he could pour on the speed. Fort Coral was also not so huge that Joe had miles to run. In a minute or two he was running among small houses and huts. Whenever he passed a startled resident, he called out to them, “Manticore is hunting,” and pointed. Most of the folks jumped inside but to Joe's surprise, a few of them latched onto his wake and followed. One of them had a large machete, two others scooped up spears before running after Joe. The fourth invoked a spell, causing spectral blue pauldrons to appear on his shoulders. He drew a pair of wavy knives from his belt as he dashed along with the group.
One of the spear-wielders spoke up. “Where is it?” she asked.
Joe and the knife-fighter both pointed and said “There.” at the same time. They were almost to the soaring form, maybe five blocks to go. Unfortunately at that very moment, the black-winged hunter dropped into a dive.
“Damn it!” Joe swore. The knifeman’s expletive was far less tame than Joe’s.
Activating [Grit Razor] and [Morphic Form] at the same time, Joe shot forward hoping to get there in time. The woman with the spear managed to keep pace with him as sparks of mana flickered under her bare feet. They zigzagged through the last few blocks as a scream cried out.
Joe turned the last corner and got his first good look at the manticore.
Tusked Tarz: Level 24 - Chimera (Manticore) - Elite Skirmisher - Dexterity - HP 2,573/2,608
The creature’s countenance was savagely bestial. Its face was split by a mouth full of long crooked fangs. There was a hint of human-like qualities to that face but they were twisted and malicious looking. The creature's body was tiger-like but at least twice the size of big cats. It had mottled dark fur from head to mid-chest and chiton covering its back half. Between a pair of massive leathery wings rose a long deadly-looking scorpion tail.
A man and a woman stood with their backs to a small building. Another man lay on the ground, coated in blood, beneath the feral hunter's taloned paw.
The street brightened as a man with a torch and a large sickle stepped out of his home. The spear-wielder beside Joe did not hesitate. As soon as the torchlight illuminated the huge beast she launched her weapon. The old monster was faster. Its paw lashed out and slapped the missile away, snapping it in two.
There were too many around for Joe to easily hurl his spell. The arc of spell-enhanced shards would not only strike people but could pass into buildings on either side of the street. Joe had a brief thought about aiming high for the wings but he had seen how fast the creature had moved. He would not get another shot with his damage spell. If he did not drive it away immediately, it would grab the bleeding man and fly off with its prey.
Joe had a better idea. He dropped and slid along the ground feet first like he was sliding into second base. At the same time, he focused on the spot of ground beside the wounded man. He vanished and reappeared below the manticore. Sweeping his arm up, Joe unloaded [Grit Razor] directly into the creature’s chest. Tarz howled and launched himself into the sky. Joe slapped his hand to the man beside him, loading him up with a [Healing Touch].
The two others, who had run with Joe, reached the intersection at that point and weapons soared up at the manticore. The second spear was also batted away as well but one of the kris knives found the monster’s flank. The magically armored warrior recalled his blade as the creature gained altitude. As it rose in the sky, the monstrosity’s hate-filled gaze never left Joe.
“Hasth akkat bekunerak, sheqk,” the monster hissed before wheeling away into the night.
“Oo. It’s pissed at you,” the woman who had kept pace with him growled, her eyes following the retreating monster until it vanished from the sight of those without enhanced vision.
Joe layered a second heal on the trembling man and asked. “Do you know what he said?”
“Nope. Just going by that death-stare it was giving you,” she chuckled. “You really pissed it off.”
“It said ‘I will eat your heart’ and then used a slur that beasts use for us people,” the machete man clarified. “Kind of like us calling something a vermin. Thanks for the warning, man. Tusked Tarz is a scourge on Swift Water. This is one of the closest we have come to killing that old beast.” He reached out a hand and pulled Joe to his feet. “I’m Brayrrem. Nice to meet you.”
“Joe,” he replied. Introductions were passed around. The man Joe had saved was named Noogelam and Joe found himself enveloped in a huge bear hug from the grateful villager. Once released, Joe tried to untangle himself from the group and head back home but the growing crowd was having none of that. The swelling mass swept Joe with them a couple of blocks over to a ramshackle tavern named Rosiline’s Ring and drinks began flowing.
There was no option for Joe to chip in. As a matter of fact, without [Purge] he would have been under the table with all the free drinks he was being plied with. Surpisingly, Joe found himself enjoying the raucous attention of the residents of Swift Water. They were loud and friendly, quick to laugh even though their lives were a bit harder than their wealthier neighbors. These folks looked out for each other and Joe had won a lot of favor from them for coming out of nowhere to their aid.
The retelling of Joe's magical slide and gut punch to Tarz ran around the room every few minutes, usually followed by a fresh drink.
Your skill [Purge] has increased to rank 12.
Joe also tried to subtly cast [Purge] on a few of the more inebriated celebrants but he noticed that they just drank all the more for it, so he stopped trying.
As generous as they were, Joe found himself quickly burning out in the crowded tavern and being the focus of the conversations. He finally managed to bid farewell to the party, promising to return the next day and perform some healing.
He staggered out of Rosaline’s Ring and had to listen for the ocean to orient himself. The night air helped but Joe was far from sober. Realizing even [Purge] had its limits, he made the long walk back to the Abaaka House with a very wobbly stride.