Hooks held his eyes open.
His hands were chained to the ceiling, clasped in forced prayer. Anger burned in his heart and made all other light dimmer. I won’t die like this.
“Gerald of no family. Unrepentant, violent, self-flagellant, drunkard. We are gathered here to witness your expulsion into the Vast Underworld.”
Father Ache spoke into flickering candlelight. The church was gloomy. Its pews were crammed full of gnarled worshippers whose faces no longer resembled the townspeople Gerald knew and had ranted to. They’re like vultures. Sharp-beaked and hungry.
He tried to spit on Father Ache’s hand, but the man gestured grandly at the last instant.
“Still, we will send you laden with gifts! Let none say that the Emissaries are unmerciful to the sinners and the lost.”
Applause broke out in the sect chapel. Gerald turned pleading eyes on every smile.
Something was materializing from the shadows on the ceiling. A mass of leathery hands, fluttering wings—not feathered, but those of a stinging insect—and elbows in triplicate. Gerald wished to stop seeing.
“The gift of the Jointed Goddess!”
The writhing passed through his eyes and into his mind, where it became raw data for which he had no frame of reference. It burned! It burned like a brand upon the heart! Gerald’s mouth filled up with foam and terror.
When it was done, the contents of his brand were still vivid. Wherever he dragged his sight, they were hovering beside it:
Class: [Penitent]
HP: 18/18
RANK: [1]
Attack: 1
Core: 2
Endurance: 1
Speed: 2
(Passive) Aura of Thorns L.1 ⊙︎
Enemies that make contact with your body take 3 (Level + Rank + 30% per Core) piercing damage.
Still, they did not unhook his eyelids. Gerald moaned in pain. I've become an Accursed. What more will they take from me?
“As for mortal offerings... weaponry! Clothes! Bronze coins in their pockets! May these serve you well in your passage through the Vast Underworld.”
Two of the heretics brought forth ragged robes and draped them upon his tied feet. A third, standing on tiptoes, pressed a dull knife between his bound palms.
I won’t need any of this when I’m a bleeding corpse. You’re just trying to soothe the crowd’s guilty conscience.
Father Ache’s cloudy eyes passed over the congregation. Weighing their devotion, measuring that dark fervor in their eyes. “Acolyte Anna,” he intoned. “Step forward and send this sinner to our Jointed Goddess.”
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A susurration ran through the ragged cultists. The woman who approached Gerald was tapping nervous fingers against her palms. She can’t be older than twenty.
Father Ache produced a sacrificial knife from thin air. He gently guided Anna’s fingers to clutch it.
The priest whispered into her ear. Only Gerald was close enough to overhear.
“Until now, you have only butchered livestock. But this knife is empowered by my hand to kill sinners in a single blow. With your first sacrifice of another Blessed, you will truly become one of us.”
Gerald’s mind was whirling, groping in the darkness for any escape. Time seemed to slow for him as Anna steadied the ceremonial dagger in her hand.
Blessed? Is that what they call the Accursed from inside? No, it doesn't matter. Think! What can I possibly...
Anna exhaled. Gerald’s eyes widened further.
That’s it! If I sacrifice—that is, kill—this acolyte, I’ll surely be accepted as an Accursed in her stead! But how? My curse’s only power requires touch, and she has that dagger! She won’t need to be near my skin at all!
As Anna’s expression hardened into steel, Gerald began to laugh hysterically. The convulsions wracked his lungs and sent his dangling body swaying lightly in the chains. Wait-
The dagger flashed toward his throat. Gerald swung backwards and his spine jolted against the wall. Anna’s blade hung in the air mere inches from his neck, and he was already swinging back toward it.
I get into barfights every other week, heretic! You’ve never even fought something that can bite back, have you?
Before his momentum could impale him on the dagger, Gerald brought his bare legs up, kneeing Anna in the stomach. She stumbled back and the knife went with her.
Beside his sight, the curse flashed with a quick report...
Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to R1 [Acolyte].
Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Acolyte].
Gasps filled the hall and some of the light leaked back into Gerald’s world. I have a chance.
Anna stood, pain still sinking into her expression. Three deep dripping puncture wounds had appeared through her robes. It doesn’t have to be skin on skin. Just close physical contact is enough! Abruptly, her face twisted into a raw snarl.
You, R1 [Penitent], have been addled with Joint Lock. Left Patella sealed for 2 seconds.
If Gerald were not already bound, he suspected his suddenly paralyzed leg would have dropped out from under him, leaving him prone. Instead, the burden of his shackles became half again as heavy.
Anna was already lunging. He caught a dagger-glint and a flash of furious eyes. At that moment, he didn’t have time to spare on complex thoughts.
I won’t!
Gerald’s thigh muscles strained. He wouldn’t reach Anna before the dagger found his jugular. He bent the only knee that could still move and it slapped uselessly into her chest.
The scream that followed was decidedly not a war cry. Gerald’s legs were tied together. One leg had been forced by sheer grit to move in a way that his locked joints forbade. Naturally, the bone snapped.
You, R1 [Penitent], have taken a Major Injury!
Your Max HP reduced by 4.
Further damage may degrade your Max HP further.
HP: 13/14.
Anna was wailing too, in fury. “You horrible animal! It stabbed me in the breast!”
Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Acolyte].
“Enough!” boomed Father Ache. Anna ignored him, pouncing upon defenseless, cringing Gerald.
Her momentum cut. She stood stock still, as if a puppet with the strings taut. A moment later, her eyes became clear. Her fingers resumed tapping on her palms.
Anna dropped into a hasty bow. “I was reckless, Father. I will accept any punishment.”
Gerald glared at Anna through tears of pain, then turned his eyes on Father Ache. The undisguised calculation in the priest’s cataract-filled irises sent a shiver through Gerald.
The man’s a shepherd. Of course he wouldn’t let me murder his flock. What was I thinking?!