Olum had come for me at the tent as soon as the sun peaked over the horizon. I hadn't slept, but I knew better than to argue. For I had experienced firsthand his ideas of how to properly 'wake someone up'.
On the way, I had seen a few of the men and women we had marched with. They looked at me with a combination of both respect and pity. An understanding, as you can only share with someone who you almost died next to, I could see in their eyes. Yet, also, a sadness as they watched me trudge along in my new Soulbound gear.
The Level Twos who had set out with us were all level two no longer. Laughing and proud, they all had a new level shining out to the world. Whereas, me, I wore a target upon my back. Still, my nameplate called me out, clearly naming me, ever more slightly, less powerful than an angry kitten. That was all Level Two would mean, compared to the (very frightening) people who now wanted me dead.
Lady Fuzzykins McBitchface had noticed the looks too and, in her infinite wisdom, had decided that the best way to cheer me up was to give me a makeover. *Healers should wear white,* she had told me, marching along behind, on little broomstick feet, like something straight out of a Disney movie.
Ya. It wasn't until we reached the tent, and I had been offered a seat at (the very bottom of) the table, that I realized what she had done. I'd left the regulation shirt and breeches behind, rather than wash them - not wanting to expend the effort, now that I wore the snug fitting leathers (but I did keep the regulation underwear, as they were clean and my Prince hadn't thought to include any under the dress... of course). Except, now, my outfit no longer was the dark leather shade that it had been last night. No, now it was dyed as white as a fresh sheet of snow, with a dark red palette dancing across the linen trimmings.
It was absolutely ridiculous. Especially since the whole idea was not to be drawing attention to ourselves. But... I also had no desire to sit in the council chamber and visibly argue with a broomstick. Fuck.
And so, dressed like an S&M nurse, I sat at the table and held my tongue while the meeting was called to order.
Olum was the only one who spoke, however, everyone else seeming hesitant to meet mine eye, and the meeting started. "First," he said, "while we have a lower ranked guildmate in our company, let us discuss the matter of Mim the Healer." He cleared his throat, "She did a commendable job in keeping our raid alive and, as I can personally attest, she returned a good number of our fallen back brothers to life after the beast had fallen. Including one here, among our own council."
He looked at the other members, nodding solemnly to himself. "Yet, as was expected, she was unable to raise in level after the encounter had been vanquished." The mood in the chamber.... well, 'tent' really... darkened, "And is therefore currently at grave risk for injury and dismemberment by foreign powers."
There was some murmuring as he continued, "As discussed, in recognition of this brave woman's sacrifice, we have requested a special exemption from the Knights of Rose Garden. And, I can now confirm that they have agreed, as the first respondents to incursions from Pan, to protect her and allow her to accompany them on future raids. Well, in exchange for her invaluable healing services, of course."
All eyes were suddenly upon me. In my much, much too bright new outfit. And I found myself blushing as I was addressed, "Mim, what say you," Olum turned then to me. "Will you travel to Rose Garden, to join the defenders of our Coast? Where you will find protection, and where you shall be provided a chance to level at the very next opportunity?"
It felt very formal, and I wanted to shrink into even more of a ball as I heard myself responding, "Er, that sounds fine. I guess."
I was a little bit distracted. For, my beloved cat Fuzzykins had, apparently, gotten board. And, subsequently. a string of notifications flashed across my vision.
You have chosen to allocate Soul Points - 3999 remaining.
You have selected: Pan-Dimensional Storage
Would you like to allocate 500 points to: Pan-Dimensional storage?
Y/N
Response confirmed. You have chosen to allocate 500 points to: Pan-Dimensional Storage, 4 Slots.
3499 Soul Points remaining.
Would you like to allocate 100 Points to: Increase Storage Capacity?
Y/N
Response confirmed. You have chosen to allocate 100 points to: Pan-Dimensional Storage, four bonus slots unlocked.
3399 Soul Points remaining.
My hand darted out, while Fuzzykins McBitchface was distracted allocating our points, and grabbed her handle - firmly bringing her into my lap and shaking her.
Olum, on the other hand, looked really confused. Not that I blamed him. "Mim? You sound a bit conflicted. Are you sure that this is what you want? The decision is, after all, yours. We simply wanted to provide you with the best chance we could. Your best chance after... well, your brave service on behalf of this Guild."
I shook my broom one last time, taking some comfort in the fact that the notifications had stopped, even as I accidentally hit the bottom of their table audibly. "Not at all, not at all. I appreciate the council's efforts and am both humbled and grateful by the opportunity you are providing," I recovered. Sort of.
Olum blinked at me a couple times, concern still etched across his face. "Well, I suppose that is the end of the matter then. You are dismissed. An escort will be provided to take you to Rose Garden in a week, from your camp. You will need to be ready, bright and early."
I stood, but I paused before leaving. Wanting to ask about Fr33ze and Bushwar. But I had, clearly, already been dismissed. And I took my errant broom with me, bodily, as I strode quickly from the tent.
"What the hell," I hissed. "You can't just change my color scheme and then assign my points around at random because you're board."
*It was most certainly not at random. I think you will find that we make the best possible choices, given the options. And, besides, we think the white looks good on you* Fuzzykins voice purred into my mind (it was pretty clear at that point that, given the lack of effect changes in distance or movement had on the sound, the damned cat was only audible in my head. Good for secrecy - less good if one wished to avoid any lunatic asylums that may actually exist in this place). I could almost hear her licking her paws, evilly.
"No," I tried again. "You aren't the one who has to wear this dress. And they are not your points to allocate," I hissed back. I also picked up my pace, as I was already starting to get some concerned stares from passerby.
*Actually - if you recall, by the nature of the Soulbond, we are you. So it really makes no difference which one of us does it. Besides* ya, definitely licking her little snotty ghost paws I decided, as she seemed to take a breath, *you should just accept that we know what's best for you. We are the smart ones, after all.*
God. Stupid, stupid, stupid cat. I hissed, not caring who saw me, "Look, unless you want me to check how useful you would be as firewood, you will check in with me before doing any such thing. Understood."
The only response was a brief, angry 'hiss' from the broom. I took her lack of response as a sign that she had gotten the message. Mostly, though, I was grateful that she no longer had a bladder, nor the ability to misuse it when she was pissed. And, above all, I knew that she would eventually find a way to vent her frustration.
When I got back to camp, the boys were waiting right there for me. We left that morning without a word, and walked solemnly to our grove. I wasn't sure if they had gotten the same notifications that I had, though I thought it was likely. And, I felt like, it was an act of both acceptance and pride, that we had left our mark, as we immediately set a course back to our grove of Bleeding Harvests.
The grove felt strangely alive. It wasn't nearly as sickening as I had feared, though I worried I may not feel the same if I should return after the trees had dropped a litter of fruit. Still, the flora here seemed larger than before (more vibrant, maybe), and it was with delight to see that the occasional tree was already flowering - with stunted examples of small macabre fruit, already growing on the vine.
It was all too much, and I couldn't help but stop to take scrapings - to pluck the tiny flowers, sample the growing fruit (ya, it was 100% anatomically correct - hands most certainly did not taste like oranges). Each item I collected had '???' next to the description, so I supposed I wasn't high enough level to see their properties as of yet. Even still (I supposed, likely due to being the grove's supposed 'mother'), I was allowed to collect the parts.
Skill increase! Scavenging +1
Skill increase! Scavenging +1
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Skill increase! Scavenging +1
Geez. This place was going to be a dream, I could already tell. I just wished that I had a month here, rather than a single, short, week.
There was a pouch at my waist now that I hadn't noticed before. A five inch little pocket, with a little leather flap, sewn into the leather just over my hip. I stuck some of the bark and flowers in it, only to discover with some shock that, as soon as the items hovered over the pocket, they disappeared from my hand.
In my vision, a 2x8 grid flashed - and I could see a little picture of some bark and some flowers in two of the slots. Each with a 2/50 and 1/50 counter hovering next to them. Fuck yes, I had an inventory. And, on the not so awesome side, I guessed that I had Fuzzykins to thank for it.
Lady Fuzzykins who, most notably, had been disturbingly quiet for the last couple of hours.
I searched maniacally through my menus as we arrived in our clearing, and as the boys started setting up. I tried to figure out what she had used to spend the SP and unlock the inventory system. But, so far as I could tell, no such interface could be found. I even looked under my Avatar stats and tried to find it there. But met with absolutely nothing.
Which meant, I supposed, that if I wanted to spend any more points, I was going to be eating some serious crow. Fuck my entire fucking life.
"Lady Fuzzykins," I said as I picked up the staff. "Would you mind if we did some weapons practice for a bit?" I used my most apologetic, contrite voice.
*Do what you want, Molly,* came a bitter, hissing reply. *We're just your plucky sidekick after all, aren't we? What does it matter what we think?*
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Not at all. You are so much smarter than me, Miss Fuzzykins. And sometimes it's hard for someone of my, admittedly, questionable intelligence to really understand the levels that your mind is working on. It was just an ignorant mistake from your idiot partner. Who has a hard time keeping up with the subtle machinations of your genius mind..." Yes, I was laying it on really, really thick. But, have you ever met a cat before? Ya, Lady Fuzzykins McBitchface wasn't going to let this slide until she had her pound of flesh. And, even as I threw up in my mouth a little while I spoke, I knew that this was likely the least painful of my options here.
But, there came the guys, and I quickly cut myself off as they walked over. Hoping I had groveled enough. After we had discussed the morning's training activities and were taking our places in our grove, only then did come the response.
*So we have complete control of your SP from now on?*
"Yes," I hissed, taking my fighting stance.
*And we have control of our color scheme?* Came a purring, sultry voice.
God damnit. I blocked, catching an incoming blade across her titanium plate.
Skill learned! Block +1 (Strength)(Dexterity)
The art of turning slashing damage into bludgeoning damage. As skill increases, blocked attacks are less likely to cut off a limb (but more likely to knock you into a wall. You weigh like, fifty pounds soaking wet, after all).
Hesitating, I weighed my options. But another slash was coming at my head and I whispered a short, "Yes," without really thinking it through.
Ya, even before my block connected, I saw the guys' eyes widening. And after it connected, I took a step back, looking down. The damn Leather outfit was now pink with purple polkadots. And little, blocky ponies smiled and danced around my waist, like some kind of a messed up belt.
Damn. I heard feminine, hissing laughter in my mind, and I knew what my punishment was going to be. Well, I figured, better this than a bunch of Soul Points going into shorter skirts and mid-drift outfit options. I supposed. It was, most likely, very much the lesser of the two evils.
Even thenI could tell that both of the guys were trying, for everything they were worth, not to fall down laughing.... I shoved Fr33ze's sword out of the way, while he was distracted, and shoved a foot-long claw into his stomach with my other arm.
It was hard to laugh at me with a punctured diaphragm, after all. And I pointedly waited for the giggles to subside before, reluctantly, healing him.