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Illuminaria [LitRPG Fantasy Healer Adventure]
15 - A Momentary Lapse of Reason

15 - A Momentary Lapse of Reason

Having only spent fifteen gold at Aelladon’s, Joe still had fifteen left to buy sundries.

On entering the General Store again, he came face to face with a grim-faced giantess. “Back again, Sir Healer. I see you took my advice and yet took the idea for your own without me.”

“Sorry, Missus Eldauk,” Joe apologized, more than a bit intimidated by the seven-foot-tall scowling woman. “I was mostly interested in learning how my spells work. I was by no means trying to set up a conflicting business. Can I make it up to you by spending the gold I was gifted here in your amazing shop?”

“That is laying it on a bit thick,” she rebuffed, but her frown dissipated before Joe’s eyes. With a sigh and a shake of her massive head, she composed herself back into the gracious shopkeep. “Of course. What can I get for you?”

“I need the basics. Rations, a knife, some rope, … ah, a backpack …”

“Might I suggest a Standard Adventurer’s Kit? It comes with a backpack, belt pouch, bedroll, a cloth bucket, four candles, flint and steel, fifty feet of rope, a hooded lantern with three pints of oil, a hand axe, a knife, a cloth sack, a bar of soap, a ball of twine, needle and thread, a pair of torches, a waterskin, a whetstone, and enough trail rations for seven days. The kit will cost you eighteen gold pieces. I’ll even let you pick the knife.”

Joe groaned. Of course, after already annoying one of the town's more prominent figures, he was offered the perfect package, and he had to either haggle or delay until he could get the last three gold coins he needed. Haggling seemed like a bad idea at this point. Joe considered dipping into the coins he had set aside for Rhiley and his family, but that felt wrong somehow.

“I only have fifteen on me at the moment, but I should be able to get the rest by the end of the day. I’ll come back then. Thank you,” starting to turn back toward the door.

“Not so fast, young man. I am still open to negotiations. All afternoon, I had a slew of business walking through my door from neighbors whom I rarely see. Seesae, Chinnana, and Hannura all came in and practically cleaned me out of yarn.”

Joe recalled that two of those were the ladies who had been enjoying his [Heartfire] earlier. He had not gotten around to id’ing the third woman.

“Even Maddy Spooner showed up and bought a new scrub brush and basin. It seems that someone has been as effective as a warm-spiring day at getting folks to start some new projects. While I might have made a larger share of coins sponsoring your ministrations, I cannot complain about the day's sales at all. Under this light, I am quite willing to give you the kit and even throw in a rain skin for what you have and one simple favor.”

Gurda Eldauk was hard to read. Her words were generous, but seconds ago, she had been completely intimidating. This was one woman Joe would not want to debate with. It was no wonder she was one of the town’s leaders.

“Um. What’s the favor?” Joe asked, being careful not to agree to anything.

“That you do all that you can for Sarsha Dellham,” the giantess uttered earnestly. “This is a small community, and she is dear to all of us. You have shown yourself to be a generous man with your gifts; I would be remiss to be no less openhanded in return.”

‘Not at all what I was expecting,’ he thought. Even so, he was very relieved.

Handing over every coin he had, he and the towering Jotun walked the aisles together for a few minutes, putting together his adventurer’s kit. The rain skin turned out to be a poncho-like garment made from a waxed tarp-like material. Joe let her pick the knife, since she clearly knew more about them than he did. She selected a simple hunting knife with an ivory antler handle.

All loaded up, the backpack was heavier than Joe would have liked. The one stat he had skimped on so far had been Strength, and he was now regretting it. He lugged his haul back to his healing spot and dropped the pack off his shoulders with a relieved sigh. He very well might be spending that free point soon.

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Joe lay on his back in the soft, cool grass of the village green, nursing a slight headache. He had exhausted his mana once again. As word spread that a healer was in town, more and more folks visited his site through the afternoon, mostly with minor health issues that would not seem to go away on their own.

Teeth were a common problem that Joe was getting better at. The hard, enameled material was impervious to his magic, but Joe found he could at least ease the discomfort by calming the nerve below the tooth. Without [Assess Wounds], this would have been impossible. Being able to see the point of pain allowed him to soothe the ache away, something that would have been almost impossible if he were healing blind. He told his patients that these heals were not permanent fixes, but they were happy to have whatever amount of time the spell gave them without the sore tooth.

Joe had left a [Heartfire] burning nearby for anyone who came by, but it would not help his head. At least this time, the dry, gritty, pinched feeling did not show up until he had drained his mana down to below 5%. At the moment, he was thanking [Vivacity], which allowed his mana to recharge more rapidly than would have without it.

He knew he was getting better at healing and casting spells, though he wondered why the system put a penalty on casting at all. Maybe it was to teach casters the vulnerability of low mana. Maybe it was to make it comparable to the other pools. Low health had physical pain. Low stamina had exhaustion. It made sense that low mana would have some type of discomfort, too.

Joe felt, with a bit more practice, the mental fatigue would not be as rough on his head as it had been so far. Just like how people learned to dismiss the little body aches or push through tiredness when exercising, he was pretty sure he would get to the point where his mental aches would be ignorable, too.

He just hadn’t gotten to that point yet; hence this latest sprawl on the grass. Joe planned on wrapping up his impromptu clinic soon, anyway.

Rhiley had returned an hour or so ago with the mended kettle. He had guessed correctly as to what job he would be given. The boy had small downy feathers caught in his hair and reeked so badly of chicken dung that Joe sent him home to wash and change.

He would follow the young man shortly, both to check on Sarsha and because the Rhiley had offered him a place to sleep.

Joe had considered staying at the inn, but he had a superstitious qualm about that idea. Even though Crowfield seemed like a sweet, sleepy little town, Joe could not count the number of D&D games that had started with the new players entering an inn just before all hell broke loose. He was pretty sure this world wasn’t so formulaic, but it seemed silly to tempt fate.

Another reason was that Joe was kind of peopled out at the moment. He had already had more “human” contact in the last few hours than he had had in years back on Earth. Staying at the inn would put him center stage for the night. While the villagers had been nothing but nice to him, Joe was enjoying this quiet moment alone, with nothing but the green grass and the waning sun.

At least he was until a boot jabbed him sharply in the ribs.

“The village green is no place for vagabonds. Arise and begone, outlander.”

Joe cracked open an eye. He knew that tone and voice, but with an aching head and after an exhausting day, the man’s station completely failed to compute in Joe’s mind.

To be fair, it had been a really crazy day. In the last few hours, he had died, been reborn, learned magic, and gone from a terminally-ill patient to mystical healer. His world had expanded from a tiny bubble around himself to potentially infinite possibilities. He had met and talked to more people in this short span of hours than he had in longer than he could remember.

His mana-woozy head registered the sour face looming over him, but in that momentary lapse of reason, he completely spaced out the implications of the man’s rank.

“Grover! Long time no see.” Joe babbled, still looking out of only one eye up at the man’s smartly armored form.

“It is Sir Groven, you impudent vagrant,” the knight barked with another kick, this one a good deal more menacing than the last. Thankfully, Joe knew the next pulse from the [Heartfire] would take the sting from the strike any second now.

“Technically, since I now have coins, I think that upgrades me from hobo to traveler.”

“I will not tell you again,” the furious cavalier growled. “Get up and leave.”

“Jeez, Grov,” Joe exclaimed, getting to his feet. “I really hope you are not part of the Welcome Wagon here in Crowfield. ‘Cause you are not very welcoming.”

Joe did not even see the blow. He was just straightening up when his left cheek exploded in agony. His head turned so abruptly that he heard a repulsive snapping sound coming from his neck. Black blotches and blinding flares of light filled his vision as he tumbled back to the earth.