My jaw was quite literally shattered by the force of the Dwarven woman's punch, the right side of it at least. I tried to keep the tears from my eyes, but God help me I couldn't, it was just too much, I could barely speak enough to cast healing magic with a quarter of my face bludgeoned in. It was the first time I had felt real, overwhelming physical pain in my second life, barring my brief experience having been shot by an arrow. It was a heavy reminder of just how frail I really was, especially in the face of a competent warrior like the woman. Were it not for my magic I well may have been disfigured for life.

I probably didn't look so cherubic right then, and several people including the nice waitress Katya tried to come to help me up, but I waved them back, they would only get in the way, and I needed to work fast before the bone became irrecoverable.

I shuddered through the pain as I pressed my hand against my jaw, holding it up so that I could speak more clearly, the bone mending spell wasn't one you wanted to mess up, though it was hard to focus as I glanced down at the blood dribbling down from my smashed mouth onto my hand. “Ha ku ra” I annunciated as carefully as I could manage, though halfway through it felt like I would throw up. It was hard to focus on the shape of my jaw through the tears.

The magic thankfully was nonetheless powerful for being stated a syllable at a time, and while I stumbled and sat, the fragments of my jaw gradually reassembled themselves into their old shape, though the bone would be weak for months unless I cast it a few more times over the coming days to strengthen the bonds. It was not a painless spell either, and the fragments of bone reassembling themselves dug new trenches into my already ruined flesh.

When it was over I was already quite light-headed from casting so much, and my mouth was still bleeding with the strong taste of iron.

Needless to say, my emotions were running a bit higher than normal.

I shuddered again as I got out a “Hasha” and had to lean my back against the wall as I almost lost consciousness, a ring of black closing in from the edge of my eyes. I blinked it back after a moment. Katya could no longer be waved off, and she brought over a small wet rag for me that did wonders for helping me recover my fading consciousness.

“Th-thank you” I managed to get out, choking down my snot and blood, and the young woman smiled before turning to look at the Dwarf lady.

“Did you…kill her?” She asked, almost timidly, and I looked around, realizing the possible severity of the situation even as alarm bells started going off in my head.

‘Oh God, I don't even know, I wasn't thinking when I cast that, she had me pinned and-’ Katya looked at me in confusion as my still mending jaw meant my words were a largely unintelligible babble. I was still very light-headed but I pushed myself off of the wall nonetheless.

I stumbled over towards the Dwarven woman, desperately trying to blink the tears out of my eyes as I propped myself up with my staff. ‘God, please let her not be dead…’

With a little effort and some help from Katya who seemed to grasp my desire, I was able to get her helmet off. It was a grim confirmation of my fears. Her skin beneath it was a scorched mess, with rough, slightly smoldering black hair tied into a braided bun behind her head. Her face, starting from her chin on up, was heavily scarred by my magic, it was more than just a peripheral burning, and was more like when I had killed that orc. It was frightening just what sufficiently intense light could do, and even though dwarves resisted magic their subterranean nature meant that they burned easily.

My heart plummeted like a stone, I didn't want to kill her, she had insulted God sure, but that didn't mean…

Bile rose up in my stomach and with my hazy mind I couldn't keep it down, it was only lucky that I had the good sense to turn away from the injured woman and that all I had eaten that day was milk. It came in a pitiful broken drizzle, but I didn't have the wherewithal to feel bad for Katya.

Then the burned woman let out a tiny, weak breath, twitching slightly. I caught it out of the corner of my eye and brought myself back to attention, trying desperately to clear my head. One idea dominating my thoughts.

‘I can save her.’

In my addled state, it was the only thought I could still perceive. With the taste of blood, vomit, and snot still lingering in my mouth I set to work clamping my hands against the sides of her head, trying to project my magic over as much of her body as possible, stretching it as far as I could in my addled state.

“Hasha.” the spell came at a cost to my already stressed will, my consciousness almost collapsing, but it did not achieve its goal, the woman's flesh mended but a little, for she was a dwarf, and resistant to my magic in a healing capacity as much as a harming one.

In my weakened mind, however, I cried out in desperation, praying to God to lend me the strength to save the woman. “HASHA, HASHA, HASHA HASHA ha-” I can't recall much that happened after that, only that I went down trying to heal her, screaming the spell and burning my will out in the process.

At the time, I had no clue whether it would work. I just wanted her to live.

Thankfully, God answered my prayer.

______________________________________

“Mhm.” Karsten rolled back into his sleeping bag, just taking the time to enjoy the warmth of it all.

It still was astounding everyday just being able to sleep without the constant pain in his arm waking him up, while he hadn't known that the curse was eating him alive until after he had been cured, by far the most constant aspect of it throughout his time bearing it had been the inability to sleep through the night.

Which is why he was a little annoyed when he heard a frantic banging at his door.

“What is it?” He groused, straightening himself up from the floor and pulling his trousers on.

“Um, ah, excuse me… were you the par- ah party members of the child priest downstairs.” The young woman opened the door before seeing that he wasn't wearing a shirt and turning to the side blushing. He realized she was the barmaid from downstairs.

“Yeah, we're his companions, did he lead the whole bar in a singalong or something?” Karsten moved to pull his shirt over his shoulders. It wouldn't surprise him at all after what he'd seen over the last few weeks.

“Er, no, see, he got in a fight with Catalina, an, uh, Dwarven lady who's been here a while and… well, it turned kind of ugly.”

Now that made him nearly jump out of his boots. “What? Is he alright?” He went for his spear by the wall and started to throw his armor on. “who the hell would attack a kid?”

“Well actually, from what I saw he struck first…” the woman watched. “are you going to wake the girl?”

He turned to stare at Mary, rubbing his scraggly chin for a second. ‘What would she prefer?’

“Yeah.” He finally decided, going up to Mary and putting a hand on her small shoulder. “Mary, hey Mary, get up.”

“Urghh let me sleep, Karsten…”

“Abbot got in a bar fight and apparently got hurt.”

“Well. He seemed fine looking at him.” Katya cut in behind him. “The wizard fella from the guard said it looked like magic exhaustion or something, flew over my head a bit.”

He glanced at the other woman, internalizing what she said before turning back to Mary.

“Anyhow, you need to get up.”

“ugh, Fiiine…” the woman rolled out of her bed, snatching her armor from underneath of it and starting to put it on. Karsten pulled himself away from the sight of her shapely figure as he turned back towards Katya.

“So did the guard take him then?”

“Yeah, the man said they were gonna take him back to give him medical attention, I doubt they'll cause trouble though, at least for him, especially since nobody got really injured. Well, and that the dwarf lady blasphemed God in front of a priest. Even if she won their fight I spectacular most of the rest of the bar would've lined up to kick her ass.”

Karsten did a bit of a double take at the small, green speckled woman in front of him. ‘Guess she's still a barmaid after all.’

“Alright, let's go.” Mary spoke and he turned to look behind him, where she was just clamping her new firelocke to her hip, somehow having tied her hair and gotten dressed in the span of 30 seconds. “We should make sure he's okay.”

______________________________________

“Mrgh” Catalina groaned the floor against her back was cold, and it wasn't very-

‘Oh…’ the Dwarven woman forced her eyes open, and founders elf glaring up at a grey plaster ceiling. Sitting up slightly she realized almost immediately that it was a cell, and that she was deprived of her armor, mace, and shield.

‘Oh, right.’ She had been in a fight she remembered, some human child priest. A child she had gravely underestimated. ‘Is that how far I've fallen? Losing to children?’

She sat upright and began to check herself over for injuries as she always did after a fight. When she went into a battle rage she had a habit of ignoring them, and it would be bad if they got gangrenous.

Surprisingly there didn't seem to be any, in fact as she felt herself up and down she realized that something was off.

‘Why is my skin so smooth?’ Indeed as she clasped her hands together it felt like they had softened considerably, and while her muscles were thankfully still present and reassuring under her skin the overall texture of it was much smoother and less-

Her hands raced to her back, feeling up and down between her shoulder-blades. “Wha…” The muscular but nonetheless unbroken skin did not lie. Scars she had born for years, symbols of her progress as a warrior were simply no longer present. But for her still-powerful musculature, she could be mistaken as a pampered noble rather than a warrior. ‘What fresh hell…’

“Ah, you wake up Dwarf?” She turned away from looking at her own body to see that there was a human guard by the door, one of the city watch based on his uniform. “Well, you’d best get comfortable.”

She glanced up at the man, tall, obviously, he was a human after all. His armor seemed decently maintained if poorly crafted, and the human firelock in his hand would likely not be exceedingly useful in this small a space. She could probably take him, but there would be more of them. “I was under the impression that bar fights only carried a fine, not prison time.”

“You're right. If it was just that we'd let you out.” And that the guard gave her a slightly pitying look. “Unfortunately for you, it seems that someone from the church caught wind of the argument that started your little fight. You're being held for blasphemy and assault on a clergyman.”

Her stomach sank like a rock with that. If the priests here were anything like the inquisitors of her home in regards to such things…

Well, she would be lucky if she was alive or sain at the end of her punishment. Most ended up being turned into the slave monsters used by the Inquisition. She glanced up at the guard. “Is it the kid priest pushing for that or what?”

“Him? Nah, they brought him over to Saint Altairs, supposedly he blew himself out with magic healing you or something.” the guard chuckled a bit at that. “Course, you might have been lucky if he just left your skin burned off back there compared to what the church might do to you now, what with you being a grey dwarf and all.”

If it was possible for her stomach to fall further it would have. The fact that she had apparently been beaten, and decisively, by a child was enough to make her want to curl up into a ball of embarrassment, but far more pressing was the fact that these humans had recognized just what she was. She was dead, there simply wasn't any other way around it.

“Of course, there could be a way out for you.” The guard gave her a rather vicious smile, and she immediately stiffened her eyes sharpening. She knew that face damped well. It was a man who knew she had no other option.

‘Fuck.’ “What do you want?”

“I happen to have an associate see. He's putting together a few people for a… job.” The guard pulled out his key ring. “You agree to get one job done for him. Just one, Itty bitty thing, and I can get you out of here with nobody the wiser.”

She had a pretty good idea what the job was, but still felt compelled to ask. “What's the job.”

At that, the man smiled, and she could swear his teeth were sharper than they were a moment before. “Just taking a small thing, see, think of it as getting a gift for someone important.”

She wanted to say no, wanted to reject the obviously unbalanced deal. However, the memories of just what happened to blasphemers in her homeland, the grotesque war-beasts they were turned into by the Inquisition...

“I'll do it whatever it is that needs stealing.”

“Excellent,” The guard said, opening the cell in a fluid motion. “Head down the hall and into the storage room on the left. There's a trap door to the barracks escape tunnel there. My contact will be waiting on the other side of the tunnel with the gear you'll need.” The man gave a wicked smile. “It's good to be working with you.”

As she clasped the bastards hand, pulling her from the floor of the cell. She felt that even now she was wrong for accepting, but the fear of the torture that surely awaited her was enough to have her running away to accepting other option. It was a bitter feeling.

‘Just like home.’

______________________________________

Henrietta stared at the pigeon.

The pigeon stared back at Henrietta.

“Move.” It was a simple word, but the pigeon seemed to understand it, flapping out of the cover where Abbot was being kept. The area to the side of the hall of healing proper was mostly a waiting area for people too injured to move, but it also served as an alright place to let the child sleep in order to recover from burning himself out with magic. From what the guard who had brought him in had said he had spent himself completely healing a Dwarven woman who he had accidentally very nearly killed.

It was surprising, to say the least, that the angelic little priest would get in a fight, but not much of a surprise at all that he would go out of his way to heal someone who he injured. So she had volunteered to see to him and brought him here. Carrying him she was reminded just how small and frail he was, and she wondered about just what the fight was over. The guard certainly hadn't said.

Still, the boy’s affinity for animals did not seem to leave him as he slept, and as she peeled back the blankets to apply the oils that would speed his recovery, she found that since she had last applied them it seemed that literally dozens of pigeons and even more rats had crawled up against the boy and curled up against him as if he was a warm heart.

“Shoo.” She ran her hand down his body, and the animals quickly scattered once awakened. “I know you like him, but this is important for his health.”

When the small animals had scattered, though she had no doubt they would be back should she leave him unattended again, she surveyed his form, pressing her hand against his forehead and checking his pallor. A priest who seriously overused their magic could go into shock along with losing their consciousness.

‘Hmm. Seems he's fine for now.” Glancing over his body she pondered on just how small and frail he was, and at the dried bloodstains on his chin that seemed to the only remnant of whatever fight he had been in.

‘Really. Who would attack such a small child.’ she puffed to herself, before taking out the pot of oil from the cathedral reserves. By imbuing it with her own light magic and then drawing it along his skin she could help to restore his own. It was a common enough treatment for those clergymen and women who over-exerted themselves healing particularly grievous injuries. Which was not an altogether uncommon problem? Not all clerics were bent towards magic as strongly as dedicated healers like her.

“Mullana” She spoke, pushing a part of her own magic into the oil before dipping her fingers into it. Applying the oil was always a long and annoying process, though it was less obnoxious to apply to a child's body given its size.

Rubbing the enchanted oil between her hands she started to lather him up.

“Ah, is this the young man brought in earlier, Sister Henrietta?” the clear and firm voice of the Archbishop’s aid spoke from behind her and she inclined her neck slightly towards him.

“Ah, Sir Archibald, we so rarely see you down in the halls of healing.”

She continued to apply the treatment while speaking to him, as much as it was poor manners, the oil would eventually lose the magic if not applied quickly. “What brings you down here today?”

If the elderly man noticed the flaw in etiquette he had the good-grace not to let it show and he instead nodded towards the child. “Why this interesting young man actually. I saw you telling stories with him yesterday and had meant to ask you about him, however, I was called away to other duties in the night. Then earlier I heard that he had been in Ina fight against a blasphemer in an adventurers tavern and ended up here, so I decided to see him for myself.” The man stroked his bare chin gently as if playing with a beard that wasn't there. “Though I see he is currently indisposed.”

‘So it was a blasphemer then?’ She turned toward the child, he had expressed interest in being a warrior of God after all. ‘Perhaps he was trying to get a head start on his heroism after all.’ Shaking her head she turned back to the elderly knight. “Yes, he's suffering from mana exhaustion, from healing the dwarf he fought with no less.” the whole idea of the thing was silly, but then again, this was a child who attracted animals with his presence alone.

“Really, he managed to properly heal a dwarf, at his age?” the knight raised an eyebrow at that and stood in thought for a moment. “What else do you know about him?”

“Well, he's come south from Kelmo from what he told me before, alongside a couple other adventurers, and he seems to have a strong affinity for animals.” That last bit was putting it lightly, but she wasn't going to go calling him odd to the archbishop’s runabout. “He's very young for a consecrated priest, and that's why he's so childlike.”

“Hmm, do you know his actual age?”

“He said fifteen.”

“My, that certainly is impressive.” The elderly man walked a circle around them as she turned him over onto his back, sizing the child up before heading for the door. “I think the archbishop may have an interest in meeting the child, I certainly do, please let me know if he has woken up when we return from the theatre.”

“I'll make sure to do so.”

As she finished his back. The elderly nun smiled to herself, perhaps young Abbot had big things ahead of him more soon than he had thought.

______________________________________

Getting back into her armor again was an actually nice feeling. Even if it was in service to the canny bastard. Once she had made it through the shoddy tunnel and into the warehouse she had quickly been spirited away to actually nearby building by a big brute of a human man who smelled of dog and called himself Fang. He had apparently been hired on as muscle for this piece of thievery the same way she had.

He had pointed her to a trunk in the back of the room and told her to get her gear on, and so she had. Even with the obvious warrior standing over her she wasn't the least intimidated anymore, though she did feel somewhat naked without her scars. They were bestowed on her at each step of the Warriors journey, and she could hardly prove herself to her clan without them, but her clan was gone now too.

‘I'm alone.’ The realization hit her like a freight train and she tried to shake it off even under her helmet. She had been by herself in human lands for weeks, but she had still been a warrior, someone of note even if in exile.

Now she had been bested by a child and roped into some surface-dweller crime syndicate to boot.

Her pride was nothing in the face of reality, and it couldn't bear her through this any more than it could save her family…

She took a long moment in memory of her failings. They sat upon her back heavier now that she no longer even had her pride to show for it.

“Are you two ready to move?” a sharp voice cut through the darkness behind her, harsh as the edge of a razor blade. She recognized the accent, whirling on her feet and razing her mace.

‘Dark Elf.’

The Pasty assassin, for he was surely one of that order based on his garb, stood lanky behind them, his long spindly arms twirling knives.

“Easy there short-stuff. That's the boss.” She heard Fang growl behind her and she lowered her weapon, though the glare behind her helmets vizor never faded.

If her own people could be accused of being treacherous the dark-elves who treated the deeps as their own personal hunting ground were far moreso. Every word they spoke was poison.

“My man there is right, you should put your mace back on your belt.” The dark elf's voice, though muffled through his mask, still carried a threatening tone, and she felt a chill run up her back at the implied threat in his hunched posture alone.

She put her mace back on her belt.

“Good, good, see, we all can get along, birds of a feather, no?” The assassin chuckled lightly to himself. “You, my new friend, have come at a good time, quite a good time indeed, actually, and we need to move quite fast, so I’ll cut you a decent deal and I won't skimp on the details. We will be robbing the Reliquary of Saint Altairs. Once we’ve got the object to my employer you’ll be free to go, though I would recommend not staying in Brindon.”

Her eyes narrowed even more at that, though the human religion already considered her actually blasphemer so she hardly sympathized with it. Instead, she voiced her primary concern. “It will be guarded.”

“That is what Fang and I are for.” The dark elf juggled his dagger offhandedly as he spoke, more intimidation no doubt. “You, on the other hand, serve a different purpose, I need you to open the vault. The protections on it would knock out a human or elf easily, but a dwarf? Your resistance to magic will keep you conscious and let us get in and out without spending hours breaking the enchantment.”

“And the Archbishop? I don't want to tangle with him.” She had already lost to a child priest today, her desire to combat one of the higher members of the human church was low. ‘Seems that's true of the clergy everywhere.’

“Ah that's the beauty of it, he and his knight have gone out for the evening to see a play in the crown district. It will take them half an hour at minimum, even if the alarm goes off, to return. And that estimate is only should they find a boat immediately.”

She could almost feel the dark elf’s smile underneath his silken mask. Feel the smugness in his aura regarding his plan. She doubted he had put much thought into keeping her alive.

Still, best to get it over with, even if the wards might just kill her. That was still a better fate than whatever blasphemer's likely suffered.

“Alright. What are we waiting for then?”

______________________________________