The Masters allowed us to continue wrestling uninterrupted. We had been at it for over an hour. My Level 5 stamina held up surprisingly well, even with the constant load from Boost Armor. Every three minutes or so I gave myself a shot of Bless Blood. Quorlin received one about every seven minutes. I didn’t feel the need to be poked in my nether regions, and I’m sure he would not be interested in doing so, at least not publicly.
During our session, both my Wrestling and Bless Blood had reached Rank D. With the other D from Basic Martial Arts and the two Es, I felt I was making great progress – and there were still over nine hours left in my day. Quorlin was allowing me to really exert myself and even gave guidance in how to improve my wrestling, so I was getting more than RP and XP; I was gaining actual, hands-on experience. After I reached D, he had to stress himself more, so he was gaining a lot as well.
We had lost our audience; even Lenyet had moved from martial arts Master to Teacher. He had joined Dorra Marson in her discussion with Norrus, Sun, Ferret, and Odd. I didn’t know what the topic was, but their group seemed quite engaged. Onre, Kossa, Nictus, and Jarine were with Masters Brune Thorm and Kertos Zurrz, mostly working on self defense skills. It was really interesting, because Onre would sometimes sing while Kossa played the ‘drums’, using her tight leather vest for the beat. I couldn’t hear that very well either, but it was an interesting, layered, performance all occurring while they were also working on self defense. Wherda Zerz and Arrjee were sparring with wooden swords under the tutelage of Master Runtel Trillet . Nothing noticeably fancy there, but they were both getting pretty skillful.
Suddenly I heard Arrjee shout, “Grandma!”. His loud voice carried pain and panic. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and turned to look. I also turned and saw her, still about a hundred yards away. She wasn’t moving right, barely moving toward us at all. Quorlin and I stood, and along with everyone else, began running to her.
As we approached, she managed a loud, very stressed, whisper, “Sterbian! Cursed. Crazy. Don’t kill -.” At that, she collapsed, probably fainted and in shock. Her right hand was missing along with several inches of her arm. Her flesh was horribly distended. I analyzed her and saw that she had the Boiling Blood condition.
That’s specifically mentioned in the Bless Blood description.
She will need multiple applications. Do not stop.
Her skin was hot to the touch. Her HP gauge was below 25% and visibly dropping. I shut off Boost Armor to preserve ki and began pulsing Bless Blood. Onre knelt next to me and asked what he should do. “I’ll handle her blood. It is important to protect her eyes and brain from permanent damage. So you focus using Heal Other around various parts of her head to penetrate all around her brain."
He began doing so, and tearfully added, "Mom, you'll make it through this. You've got to."
Then the loudest voice I had ever heard blared from above, “Harron, Asiel, Orian. Behind Dorra Marson’s school. Now!”
Everyone in town and beyond must have heard that. I spared a quick glance upward and saw a balloon-like creature, now descending to the ground.
Oh, Ronkel. So that is what can be incredibly loud, rumbly, and screechy at the same time. Good job!
I was releasing another pulse of Bless Blood every 4 seconds, as fast as it would go.
I still have over 200 ki. At 10 ki per pulse, I can keep this up for 80 seconds, plus what regenerates in the meantime.
Dorra was pulling things out of Grandma’s pouch. When she found a healing potion, she immediately held it within her mouth, allowing it to slowly empty. The teacher said, “This is the last healing potion left. She likely drank one or two on the way here, and that kept her alive. Forrest’s Bless Blood is working; her Boiling Blood condition is no longer red.”
You can slow down the pulses now. I suggest one every six seconds.
“Minor gods, I should have thought to check her pouch,” Onre stated, as much to himself as anyone.
That’s when we began hearing someone else shouting from a distance. “Rhonda! I’ll kill you. I’ll kill every fucking person in this wicked town!!” His voice was very raw; he did not sound well at all.
Cursed, probably. In pain, definitely. Crazy, check.
His eyes were red and possibly about to pop out of his face. I don’t know what is happening with him, but I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
Which he might be at this moment.
Several yards away on my right I could see Norrus in tears. He has probably never experienced anything like this, seeing Rhonda in horrendous shape and a person he respected threatening everyone. Sun, Quorlin, and Wherda were all comforting him, although I could not hear what they were saying. At 13, Wherda was probably feeling very similar to Norrus but she was holding up better, having given herself the responsibility of an older sister.
I looked back to Sterbian. Two long walls had appeared on either side of him, narrowing his path forward. The fronts of the walls were slanted at 45 degrees (‘eighths’ came the unbidden thought). A third wall appeared, blocking him from advancing. It was also slanted, apparently using the other two walls for support. “He is penned in,” announced Master Trillet. “And he won’t be able to spray us with scalding water.”
Damn, that guy thinks quick.
Yes.
We began hearing expletive-ridden shouts of rage, pain, and utter madness. It lasted about 30 seconds, gradually decreasing in volume. There was a long pause. “Sorry .. so sorry … Rhonda. I’m sorry. I love -.” We didn’t hear anything else from him after that.
Asiel and Orian had arrived, placing themselves just in front of Master Trillet’s wall. Orian commanded, “Release the front wall now. We will handle whatever is on the other side.” Ronkel had taken an Earth Elemental form and joined them, as did Odd Earth. I guess scalding water wouldn’t bother them.
Harron knelt by Rhonda. He released and held a healing aura. “Excellent work, boys. Boiling Blood and she is still alive? That is amazing.” I told him it had been a lot worse. The condition had been solid red. She had probably taken three or so healing potions, counting the one Dorra had drizzled down her throat. I hadn’t done any actual healing. “You boys did exactly the right thing. Forrest had to stop her from boiling alive, and you did. Onre prevented permanent damage to her brain. She will be well.”
As the nearest wall dissolved, Dorra warned the ones closest to it, “Be careful. Before she collapsed Rhonda said that Sterbian Morse was cursed and crazy.” That temporarily stopped their forward advance. Asiel must have used his telekinesis because I saw this flesh thing that must have once been Sterbian Morse raised about fifteen feet in the air. It wasn’t otherwise moving. Somehow from way back where we were, Harron verified that Sterbian was dead. The four approached the wall, and I could see through them to a hand laying on the ground, wrapped in some kind of paper. But it wasn’t butcher paper.
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“Stop!” Asiel commanded. “That scroll around the hand is cursed. A very strong, bare curse. That means it had been concealed, masked by the layer of blessing, the familial comfort. Absolutely devious.” He slowly laid Sterbian’s body on the ground next to the hand, and raised up the cursed scroll high in the air. “Her hand has been boiled alive, just like Sterbian. It is not cursed, though.” Louder, directed at us, “Harron, can you do anything with this?”
He moved the hand mentally to lay next to Rhonda’s head. Harron examined it, and after a moment declared, “No, its vitus is gone, completely dead. A necromancer might be able to do something with it, but not a healer.”
I saw that Grandma’s Boiling Blood condition was gone, and her health was above 90%, because the gauge was also gone..
“The missing hand doesn’t count any more, right?”
Yes.
“Damn, that was her good hand.”
Magical prosthetics exist in this world.
That was good news to me, but Arrjee wasn’t seeing anything good. He had knelt beside us, crying, holding her good hand. I told him, “Her blood is fine now, and she is healthy. Interface just told me that she might be able to get a prosthetic hand.”
Dad had approached from behind me. “That is very good news, son. We will make sure she does. What in the name of all minor gods happened?”
Ronkel, now in her normal form, began explaining. Quite a few people had gathered, attracted by Ronkel’s earlier broadcast. I heard Mowd whispering something. When she stopped, Rhonda opened her eyes. She interrupted Ronkel. “How is Sterbian?”
“I am sorry,” Ronkel said, clearly meaning it. “He is dead, from the same boiling blood condition that almost killed you. Just before he died, he regained his senses. He said he was sorry, and that he loved you. There was a cursed scroll, and -”
Grandma interrupted again. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! He was himself again, better than I ever remembered.” In a whisper, “Sterbian, I loved you, too.” She started crying, and Arrjee hugged her. Onre and I did too, from her other side. Everyone else remained silent, giving her the time she needed.
I never heard her swear before. But if there was ever a time, now was it.
A crowd circled around us, most standing back, giving us space. All three Wraiths were standing close as well as Dad. Ronkel softly requested, “Rhonda, can you tell us what happened? I am sorry to interrupt your grief, but this could still be important for us to know.” Dad gave him a slightly dirty look, but I think, like I did, he understood.
Rhonda began with their time in his kitchen, the friendly, perhaps loving banter. This probably wasn’t significant to what actually mattered, but it was important to her. The Wraiths allowed her to tell her story as she needed. She spoke of Sterbian getting the service proclamation from the duchess and added that Sterbian thought it might have been a last minute replacement, maybe due to some fuckup at the court. Two other people had received individualized proclamations.”
At that, Asiel asked her to pause for a minute as he unrolled the elevated scroll so everyone could read it. It must have been my perception being at 20, but in addition to the words I could see a bloody thumbprint in an upper corner and a small tear on the opposite edge near its bottom. There was also a faint reddish line going across part of the scroll.
“Cauterized blood maybe? From when the scroll was wrapped around her hand? I know her arm was not bleeding, and I have been thinking it cauterized as her hand was cut off by a superheated thin stream of water. We saw him do that to cut up carcasses.”
What you speculate seems likely.
Asiel continued. “That’s odd. It is cursed with fearfulness, depression, loneliness, and paranoia. It doesn’t say anything about boiling blood. Was that a skill of his?” Dad responded that he was quite sure it was not.
“Let me continue,” she requested. “I may have an idea, but I want to tell you in order. He got the framed scroll from his bedroom. It had been hanging on a wall. I am guessing he hung it a month or so ago. That was when he stopped being a total ass. Before that he said he had it just laying rolled up on a table next to his bed. I think the curse had been slowly acting on him until he hung it across the room. At least, that would explain why he was beginning to act normally.”
Kossa interrupted, “That familial comfort outer blessing. Do you think that was why he was nice to my family and I while he was so crotchety with everyone else?”
“That would make sense,” Grandma pondered. Then puzzled, “But how do you know there is an outer blessing? Your Level 0 Analyze isn’t strong enough and doesn’t have any range.” Kossa explained that Asiel announced both the curse and the blessing while she was still unconscious. “Ah okay. Anyway, as Sterbian was bringing the framed scroll out of his room, he tripped on something. He dropped it; the glass and the frame broke. I don’t know if the scroll got torn then or later as he was chasing me.”
“I saw him cut his thumb, though, as he was picking up the glass. He finished that, licked the blood off his thumb, and held up the scroll for me to read. The real Sterbian didn’t say anything after that. I didn’t realize anything was wrong at first and even mildly flirted with him. He remained silent for quite a few more seconds. Then suddenly this very not-Sterbian person started swearing at me. He accused me of wanting to steal the scroll, then sprayed me with scalding water for no reason. I pulled out a packet of Mowd’s pepper dust.”
“That was when Sterbian’s voice changed from hostile and ranting to something else. Something that sounded pure evil. He, maybe it, said, ‘Let your blood boil.’ That was when I threw the packet to incapacitate him, which was also when he cut off my hand. I ran after that. I knew that something was seriously wrong with me. My stats showed me with Boiling Blood. Running here I needed to swallow two strong healing potions just to be able to move. That kept me alive long enough, well long enough for you-all to keep me alive and fix me. Forrest, you used your Bless Blood on me, didn't you?”
“Yes, Grandma, many times. Your condition was very strong. If it hadn’t just reached Rank D, I don’t know if it would have done anything at all.”
Dad asked, “Rhonda, can you remember anything else? I think we’ve got a good sense of what happened at Sterbian’s house, but do you remember anything else that might help us to understand?”
Asiel added his own question. “Is it alright if I ask with Reveal? Barrie’s Good Question skill and Reveal should allow a truly complete answer.” She said that would be fine, whatever they could do to understand what happened would be good.
“Rhonda Silverstone, what else do we need to know about Sterbian and his curse?” || Reveal
“It affected the way he spoke, constantly swearing, calling me a bitch and a whore. That isn’t the way he thinks. Even when he was being a paranoid curmudgeon before, he was never obscenely boorish. Maybe, I can’t be sure, but maybe, as – it – commanded that my blood boil, I saw another face, feminine, more hateful than Sterbian’s had been. I think that’s what I saw, but it could have been a trick of my mind, imagining that.”
Orian whispered at that point, a name, maybe title, I heard for the very first time. “Minor gods. The Priestess.”
Dad asked who that was; we were probably all wondering. As Asiel began to relate some decades old rumors, both Skawa and Einvigi appeared in the midst of us – Skawa being in what might be his normal Trichyan form and Einvigie defining elegance as usual. Asiel instantly stopped speaking, and all eyes were on them. They were both surveying the area, piecing together the events.
Skawa spoke first, “Asiel, you may release the scroll. I will dispose of it safely after it is thoroughly examined.” It began to drop, then vanished.
Einvigi asked, “Rhonda Silverstone, may I examine your memories telepathically?” She assented and I witnessed Einvigi stare solidly at Grandma’s eyes for several seconds.
“Yes, you sensed The Priestess more precisely an aspect of her spirit; your mind personified that into the female face you partially remember. She is not a rumor and has slowly been building a cult for over a hundred years. We don’t know who she is, or where she came from, or what she really wants. But our speculations are … concerning. When her diabolical scroll ripped and had saliva and blood applied to it, essentially it broke in a condensed magical explosion. I do not believe she intended the scroll to appear in a remote village. It was likely planted in the royal mansion, meant to slowly cause degradation in the royal family over a period of decades.”
“Instead, an accident of fate occurred and some bureaucratic mishap led it to fall into Sterbian Morse’ hands. It began degrading him, but he must have been a strong man to not eventually fall apart faced with the ongoing programming of fear and depression. I am very sorry for your loss, Rhonda. He was indeed a good man. She commanded the boiling blood on both you and him, likely to eliminate witnesses.”
Skawa continued the explanation. “She typically operates from dark corners of large cities, where many shadows keep silence. The gods have been unable to trace her; we get frequent false, or maybe late, reports of her appearance, but we have not yet caught up with her.”
Full Trichyan form, but he – they – speak normally. I don’t want to interrupt , even with Group Mind.
Ferret asked the question many of us were wondering, “Sir Skawa, who can hide from gods?” Skawa simply triple-shoulder shrugged at him in reply.
The Priestess must be a god.
Or someone very much like one.
“What does that mean?”
It is a big, complex galaxy. There are more than gods and mortals, existing long before you became an immortal.