Aurelia Level 28 Priestess of Origin’s Flame
Morning, the next day.
The last two and a half days of battle had easily been the most exhausting of Aurelia's young life. The closest thing she had ever experienced was the terrifying flight her family had undertaken before the advance of the Naga army. The memory of those chaotic weeks played at the edges of her consciousness, in shades of grey, interposed by flashes of screaming color...
This was nothing like that. It was both far more terrible and somehow less overwhelming at the same time. The High Priestess remained on the wall night and day, handling each emergency as it came, and she had left Aurelia in charge of the healer's tent down below, well back from the fighting. She knew her job, and even as the initial panic of responsibility had faded into the dull grinding exhaustion of days of effort, she had done her absolute best to make sure everyone who approached their area after their time on the wall received what they needed to recover.
She knew her younger self would have long since given up, but something was keeping her going, stumbling to her feet each time another rotation was called. She was not just a little girl in an adult body, those years had not disappeared. She could feel their memories deep down, just out of reach. They undergirded her new strength of will, getting her to her feet even when she was convinced she had nothing left.
This is what she could do to protect her home...
“ROTATE!” The cry went out from above. She flinched as Watch members stumbled down the large rear stair bleeding and broken. Erash had stopped healing and cleansing the centuries rotating off the wall a day ago. They were keeping her as a counter to the increasing numbers of elites coming with every wave.
That left Aurelia and the three Acolytes to handle all of the healing needed for each rotation off of the wall. Depending on how heavy the press was above, they could be looking at two or three rotations in an hour. On top of that, the rangers had run out of blessed projectiles hours ago, and several pallets were waiting for her as soon as she had another moment to spare.
Members of the Watch crowded down the stairs, some moving as fast as they could, as if chased while others were almost completely incapacitated, carried by their brothers and sisters down to safety. The tide of enemies was endless, and at this point, they all knew they had yet to see the worst of the enemy's capabilities. Grim faces filed into the healer's tent, telling a story of hope dangling by a fraying thread.
“Please, ma’am! He can make it. He just needs a little help!” A pair pleaded with her from the front of the injured group. Aurelia's stomach churned as she looked over and saw the dead Sayter hanging on their shoulders. Wild eyes, bright with a potent mixture of desperation and fear completely missed her defeated expression as they dragged the dead man up to her... Unable to muster any words, Aurelia just bit her lip, choking back a sob as she shook her head.
The two belatedly turned and looked at their burden, who might have been living before they had carried him off the wall. Aurelia tried to speak up, to repeat the orders she had received. She was the one they had left in charge here, and someone had to remind these tired soldiers of the best way to get help.
They needed to make sure the most injured were in the front of the lines.
But she couldn't squeeze the words past the blockage in her throat. She stood there, frozen in her despair, unable to look away as two companions gaped in shocked disbelief at their lost friend. His empty eyes stared out into the middle distance as if he had forgotten something and straining to remember it
Then a strong voice called from behind her breaking the dead man's spell.
“Check your Debuffs and Regen! If you are still able to gain health, however slowly, move on! If you are dropping, report to the healing station. Organize yourselves! The Healers can’t do everything, you need to put your worst brothers and sisters up front!” Linus called, approaching the healing station and gaining control of the situation with an economic efficiency that spoke of years on the field.
Aurelia and the overwhelmed acolytes glanced back in numb appreciation before turning to see the group of soldiers beginning to order themselves. They had already gone through this several times, but something about hearing the commander say it again helped the pieces fall into place for their tired, numb minds. Many stumbled past the station to find food and rest for as long as they could have it, but far too large of a remainder lined up to receive healing, with the most severe cases finding their place before her.
She took a deep steading breath, raised her hands, and cast Flame’s Warmth, centering it on those in front of her, but knowing it was a wide enough area of effect that it would cover many of the others. Creases of harsh worry and frantic hope eased slightly on their faces as the sensation of sitting down before the warmth of a fire washed through them, giving each target +10% to Constitution for their next 200 breaths. Two of the three Acolytes joined her AoE Ability, casting on the group, easing pain, and disrupting Corruption’s advance.
It was for this reason that they kept the lines so close, and she hoped it would give many the time they would need to have their turn at the front. She was even encouraged to see some at the back check their status screens, and shuffle off, seeing that the Buffs would compensate for their maladies until their native regen took over.
Fighting to straighten her shoulders, she turned to the first woman in front of her, one of their few minotaur fighters. Her impressive stature was curled in on itself as she shuffled forward, with a large wad of soaked cloth held against her midsection. The flesh and padded armor over it was eviscerated by several jagged wounds, and filled with enough Corruption that its healing had been slowed to a deadly degree.
As had become her procedure, she raised her hands and cast the very first Ability she had received as a Priestess, Cleansing Flame. A stream of dancing blue flames leaped from her hands and bathed the wound, consuming the Corruption in its place. Unlike Mr. Tillmans's Ability, it did not expel the substance, creating a manifestation. Instead, it consumed it completely, expunging its taint from the target's body.
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A notification popped up, and she minimized it for a second while she went on to cast her second most powerful healing Ability. The wound began to close and the Minotauress’ face went slack with relief,
“Thank you, Priestess, praise Origin” She uttered, moving past so that the next in line could come forward. Aurelia nodded back absently, recalling the screen as the next patient shuffled up.
Congratulations! You have cleansed one thousand targets in 24 hours. You have earned the Title [Fount of Purification]. All allies within a hundred-pace radius of your position will have any infectious-class Debuff potency reduced by 50%.
There was no joy at the notification. She registered somewhere in her mind that it would make her role here that much more effective, but the majority of her attention was on the first number the screen had revealed.
One thousand in twenty-four hours…
‘Had there really been that many?’ she thought numbly.
She dismissed the screen taking in the next Watchman to step up, holding his right arm close to his torso as he tried to stanch the bleeding of the nearly severed appendage. Aurelia immediately cast her most powerful healing... Any time there was a possibility of a loss of limb, she always took it seriously, knowing that the only one who could regrow them was Erash and she didn't have any mana to spare for non-elite soldiers.
And just like that, they slowly cleared the lines, and this time, thank Origin they didn't lose anyone who had to wait in line.
Actually... that wasn't entirely true, they had lost one right before he arrived... How could she have already forgotten?
Commander Linus had been standing with them throughout the rotation, saying nothing, but somehow offering his support despite the silence. Aurelia could already hear the fighting above begin to increase in fervor as men and women began calling out the positions of enemy elites in the coming charge.
“It's time for you to take a break,” Linus said simply, looking her over. She looked up at him in incomprehension, realizing she had sat down on one of the pallets they needed her to bless without realizing it. Her mind struggled to find the words needed to respond.
“I will, sir... After the next group of soldiers.” She mumbled, squinting up at the scarred commander.
“It’s an order, Priestess. Each of the Acolytes has already rotated off for a few hours. You will take a full eight. We will find you when we need you.” Those words cut through her fog slightly, and she was surprised to find bitterness welling up at the news.
“When you need me? You need me now, Consul! What are you going to do when the next century rotates off, let more die?” She questioned angrily, her bloodshot eyes narrowing blearily.
“We have our Health potion supply online, and we will make sure Erash treats the worst injuries before they leave the wall,” Linus responded, his face softening slightly.
“That won't be enough... We have lost too many as it is.” She choked out, having to swallow down the sob that had returned to threaten its escape all over again.
“Ay. More will die. But that's not your fault. You need to trust me when I say that if you don't take a rest, the losses will be greater. The battle is far from over, and I am ordering you to take eight hours... Away from the wall.” He stated with finality, his expression a strange mix of unyielding strength and a deep understanding.
The anger she had been using as fuel to push past the pain suddenly drained away, and all she had left was her weakness. Her body shuddered with the effort to hold back the sobs. Then the dam broke, and she lost the contest, huge racking sobs shaking her body, as she cried like the little girl she no longer was.
A calloused hand gently cupped the back of her head as the commander pulled her into a simple embrace, holding her against his shoulder.
“I’m sorry… I thought I would be stronger.” She stuttered out between sobs.
Then in a quiet voice that somehow dampened the distant screams of battle, Linus answered her,
“Shhh, You've done more than we should've asked… I'm... I'm proud of you."
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Four hours later
Pupienus Level 45 Bureaucrat
There wasn’t enough time…
The twenty-four-day Boon was the only reason that they had anything resembling a working economy. And while it would grow on its own if given enough time, it seems they had run out of that as well.
Food and weapons production had barely covered the demand brought on by the challenge of fielding a few thousand soldiers at the drop of a hat, and now their three alchemists were working day and night to produce some of the lowest-grade Health Potions Pupienus had ever seen.
‘I should have listened to my aunt and left with the rest of the family…’ He fumed internally as another missive arrived on the table in his tent/office. He squinted up at the courier, but the man was already gone by the time the note hit his desk, joining the piles of paperwork, all demanding his attention. He had been working on the mess all morning and he probably wouldn't be able to leave his desk for hours yet.
“Hey! You can’t…” Pupienus trailed off as soon as it was clear the messenger had truly left without issuing any sort of verbal report.
‘I am surrounded by idiots… How can I prioritize tasks if there is no input system? If everyone just stops by whenever they want to drop off something new, we will never make any progress.’
He folded up the report the loud dwarfs had recently turned in. The quarry had uncovered a very rich vein of metals under the mountain, along with a large pre-dug tunnel. They had been able to produce stone and iron much faster than anticipated once they discovered the hidden mine. They were asking for an increase in contribution points to reflect their higher output... and he would probably have to issue them... Their work was literally keeping the rest of them alive right now.
He picked up the dirty piece of paper the courier had flung at his desk. It had a note scrawled on it and Pupienus had to squint at its contents through his spectacles, hardly able to make out some of the letters due to a large stain. Then a realization struck him through his exhaustion, ‘By the Yawning Pits… is that blood?’ He thought in a mild panic, holding it by its corner as he struggled to make out the message.
Councilmen, there is an urgent risk to the satyr element in the camp. We have discovered a conspiracy by some of the other races to displace our people and erode our position further. I fear that soon we will be little more than slaves in this “Alliance” they have formed. Meet us a third of the way up the mountain at midnight, and come alone. Not all of our people can be trusted…