Exill dispatched the last bone vulture with a brutal crunch under his heavy boot. Panting lightly, he looked around to see Envy was already crouched down gathering the larger bonemeal fragments into a woven bag. It had been three days since she had injured her hand and although it was healing up nicely, she was far from peak condition.
“Let’s go back” he suppressed a shiver, collecting the last of the bone shards.
There was a rebellious look in Envy’s eyes as she looked down at the Witchdoctor with thinly veiled contempt, “This is only the second cavern, I know you’re weak and feeble, but you should be able to handle more than this.”
Exill closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
In that short exchange, his blood pressure had spiked, and the beginnings of a throbbing headache made itself felt. For a brief moment, he was tempted to tell the Vampire to go on alone and do everyone a favour by not coming back. However, upon witnessing her flashing amber-red eyes, moderated his voice in a reasonable tone:
“I’m feeling lightheaded, and you haven’t recovered either. Let’s go back to the Guild and check if Iris hasn’t found a suitable partner who could assist you while I’m on call.”
At the mention that he wasn’t feeling so well, the spite in her eyes was replaced with guarded concern. There was good reason to be worried because if he was ill, she would likely have to forgo some of her meals until he recovered.
They hastily exited the Labyrinth into the quiet interior of the Tower. The muffled sound of wind and rain could be heard even within the muted confines of the hallowed grounds.
‘Damn rain is still pouring’ he thought bitterly, wishing that foldable umbrellas existed in this world. He had thought himself lucky for avoiding most of the rain in the morning, but looking up at the dark brewing clouds, there were no signs it would clear up anytime soon.
“Use my shield.” Envy offered her iron buckler, but he quickly refused. Although he appreciated the sentiment, its small size would barely cover his shoulders, providing negligible protection against the torrential downpour.
They hurried out into the pouring rain, eyes narrowed into slits while they crossed the small plaza in front of the Tower. All the vendors had packed up for the day except for a lone dwarf called Samson who manned the charcoal grill stand every day no matter the weather.
“Take care of yourself Samson, this looks like a bad one!” he yelled at the dwarf as they rushed past. Once, on a similar night like this he had asked the stalwart vendor why he would keep the stall open when any sane individual would call it a night. The Dwarf’s ruddy features had lit up and he explained that ‘on nights like these, people come seeking shelter under the warmth of the stall. It is just like any other day in terms of sales’.
Acknowledging the Vendor’s greetings, they hurried up the main street, taking care not to slip on slick cobblestones under foot. It would have been faster to take a shortcut through a side street, and although the alleyways were less exposed to the elements, they were unpaved, making it difficult to slog through the muddy puddles. Before long, the plain sandstone exterior of the Guild came into view, the crossed sword banners hanging outside drenched in rain.
Swinging the guild door open, Exill swept the damp hair from his eyes and walked up to the counter feeling miserable and cold. Iris the Guild clerk must have similarly been caught in the rain because she stood behind the counter, patting her damp hair with a towel.
“Awful weather.” He made light conversation while lowering the dripping bags of harvested bonemeal and ingredients onto the counter. They were the only people in the Guild and the large hall was strangely silent from the absence of arguing and boisterous mercenaries.
“It is terrible,” Iris lowered the damp towel and wrapped her warm hands around his, there was a concerned look in her kind grey eyes as she noted the pallor of his skin, “You don’t look well Exill, you should hurry home and rest. Even if you are a Healer, you are not immune to the cold.”
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“Thank you, I’ll be doing just that. Could I turn this batch in, and did you find anyone who could partner up with Envy in the afternoons?”
Iris opened the woven bags of bonemeal, and shook her head silently at their state, “I can give you half price for this, they would need to be dried and processed. I think everything should come out to… 28 denars.” She slid the coins across the counter apologetically then answered the second part of his question while throwing the Vampire a careful glance.
On one hand, Iris was glad to welcome another woman into the Guild as there were so few of them. On the other hand, Envy scared the shit out of her.
“There isn’t anyone I can recommend right now. You know Grundle, the nice bald man you used to Party with. Well, he is with another new recruit right now and they want to get their teamwork down before adding any new members to their roster – so it might be some time before I can find a suitable partner for her.”
Exill nodded. He had guessed as much.
Thanking Iris and extricating his hands from her warm grip, he returned to the entryway and shivered slightly looking out into the pouring rain. Envy stood beside him, smelling of wet leather. He looked down to find the bandages wrapped around her hand wet and stained with dirt.
“Let’s go home. We need to change your bandages anyway.”
On returning to the Inn, he poured a bucket of water into the washbasin hanging over the flickering hearth and basked in its warmth while the water slowly heated up. He climbed the stairs and entered the room to find Envy had removed most of the straps to her scrap leather armour, leaving little to the imagination as her wet tunic clung tightly to her bosom.
The room descended into an uneasy silence, and they turned their backs to each other to strip down and wipe away the accumulated grime, turning occasionally to rinse the washcloth in the shared washbasin.
As much as he resented the cynical Vampire who enjoyed undermining his authority at every turn, he couldn’t help but steal glances at the captivating form of her slender back and the soft contours of her hips.
He quickly changed clothes and climbed into bed, feeling flushed and unwell. If his temperature were to be taken now it would have indicated he had a fever. The best that could be done was to take anti-inflammatories and hope [Herbalist] level 27 was enough to raise the efficacy of the medicine.
After hanging the clothes and armour out to dry, Envy stood over the fitfully sleeping Witchdoctor with a troubled look in her eye. Vampires were hardy beings and as long as they had access to blood, they were immune from common ailments. Memories of her human father were vague, and she could not recollect if he had ever been ill, nor what had been done to nurse him back to health. All she could remember of her father was a warm presence and the comforting scent of leather and sandalwood.
Envy climbed down the stairs and approached the Innkeeper who was standing under the eaves of the building, observing the pattering raindrops with a lit pipe in hand. She had never interacted with the eccentric man and approached him warily.
“How can I help?” the Innkeeper recovered his composure. He had been caught off guard by the Vampire silently entering his peripheral vision amidst the tumultuous rainfall.
“I need food for the Witchdoctor. Also, if there are any summons from clinics, turn them away and inform them he is unwell.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, sensing a quiet kinship. The Innkeeper eventually nodded and took a long drag from his pipe, turning his gaze back out to the rain. “I’ll tell them if they come, come back in half an hour and I’ll have your food ready.”
Envy awkwardly fingered the three denars, unsure if it was appropriate to pay before or after a meal. Exill usually ate alone, and she wasn’t familiar with the customs at the Inn. She eventually settled on leaving the three copper coins at the counter and refilled the washbasin while she was at it.
Sometime later, she nudged Exill awake and offered the bowl of creamy broth to the bewildered Witchdoctor.
“Thanks…” he said, levering himself into a sitting position and accepting the bowl. He was disoriented from the flu and was touched by her considerate gesture. It was almost enough to forgive her for all the troubles she had put him through. He didn’t have an appetite, but consumed the meal anyway until a twisted thought entered his delirious mind.
“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, do you want to feed on my blood that badly?” His voice was tinged with hidden resentment that surprised even him as the words left his mouth.
Envy glared at him in response, then gathered her belongings and stormed downstairs. She would rather spend the evening in the company of the quiet Innkeeper than spend another minute with this ungrateful fool.
***
Exill fully recovered the following day, and abashedly apologised to Envy for doubting her goodwill. Her hand made a full recovery thanks to his daily administrations and the weeks passed, resulting in Exill successfully making his first payment to Diallo with 400 denars to spare.
One afternoon, he was standing in line, unloading the morning’s haul at the Guild when a snippet of conversation behind him was overheard.
“...Savta... shame... clinic.”