That night we sat by the fire and ate with the other guild members. We laughed, and joked and spoke of home - and were careful never to bring up what had happened in that cave. Even still, when he thought I wasn't looking, Fr33ze would cast looks my way, a strange expression of weariness and awe in his eyes.

Olum did come by, briefly, to congratulate us on surviving, and to let us know that six Dire Rats had been added to our kill counts.It seemed embarrassing to me, it wasn't even the full ten rats after all, but the others seemed to be suitably impressed. Me, I was mostly just impressed that Olum knew at all. Impressed, and worried. There was another man, his name shown as Bushwar, who hovered near us the rest of the night. Laughing a little too loudly at our jokes and inserting himself much too freely into our conversations. To the point where I had found myself a bit creeped out. When dinner was done, I found myself eyeing him wearily. Glancing at us with his smile that was... just a little bit too big. And I looked over at Fr3 wearily. "Is... is there something off about him do you think?" Fr3 was, apparently, taken completely aback by the question. He paused for a second and frowned. As 'thinking' expressions go, it was far from the best that I had ever seen, and I had to keep myself from smiling quietly as I watched his mental wheels turn. It was probably a good thing that he was a tank, actually. "No? What do you mean?" "Well..." I started, unsure about how to bring it up. "Did it seem to you like he was laughing just a little bit louder than the rest of us?" He paused again. Wheels sloooowleyyy turnnning. "No?" I thought, biting my lip absently. "Um... well, after Olum came by to congratulate us, did it strike you as odd that he seemed to suddenly latch on to us? When he hadn't said a word to me before that?" Fr33ze pauuuused. "Not really. We had a good day and we proved that we make a good team. Who wouldn't want to be a part of that, after all? And anyway, he is a DPS. Maybe he just wants a group?" My eyebrow raised on it's own, I swear. But I think my point was conveyed, regardless. I didn't even have to say a word, he just shrugged his shoulders and finally shook his head. "You know, it's really not a good idea for a girl to sleep out in the open like this. These guys may be bros, but, like, I can see why you might be worried I guess." He swallowed and grimaced like he had a toothache before he went on. "Ya. I have a tent. Come stay with me when you sleep and I promise that no one will bother you. Not after today." I raised my eyebrow even higher. "You want me to stay. With you." My other eyebrow joined it, competing to see which could join with my hairline first. "In your tent." He frowned and turned away. "Well, so long as you bring your own blanket. Don't take it the wrong way. I'm just not into bestiality or anything like that. You looked like you could use a friend is all." And, with that, he got up and, very carefully, did not actually storm over to his tent, and crawled inside. I let him go, staring at the firelight. I stirred the dirt on the ground quietly with a clawed finger while I concentrated on breathing. I... I didn't know him that well. I'd known him like a day, if that. No matter that I had shared my blood with him. No matter that I had brought him back from the other side and breathed new life into his stupid, dumb head. There was actually, absolutely no reason why I should feel like I had just been rejected. Especially since I had absolutely desire to sleep with him right now in the first place. Absolutely no desire right now at all. Fuck. No. Fuck him. He could just go right to hell for that bullshit. I was still cursing him out in my mind, in fact, when I picked up my pack and followed him into his tent for the night. ______ The morning greeted me, again, with my head tied in my backpack and my mouth full of wool. But at least there wasn't excruciating pain this time. I closed my eyes and tried for a moment to go back to sleep, before a boot rocked me to the side again and I heard a very muffled voice. "Comeon now, get up. You don't want Olum to come after you again today do you? You need to get issued some clothes, the ones you are wearing are shredded and... well, they kind of reek." There was a pause and I held my breath to see if he would go away. "I know you can hear me Mim, your skin is turning all furry. Let's go." Oups. i guessed that it was becoming a habit now. I hadn't realized I was even transforming. Ah well, I sighed. I stuck a hand into the bag with my face anyway, just to make sure my ears were furry rather than pointed, before I finally caved and started sitting up. "Fr33ze, I haven't had the heart to tell you this, but I feel like someone has to. You are, literally, the devil." He quipped back and tossed me a cup for the water barrel, "Well someone should go ahead and tell the Bobs that. Maybe they'll get me a raise." As I crawled out of the tent I was met with a few scattered 'Ohhhhhooo's and whistles. It was not what I needed, first thing in the morning - and, lacking anything appropriate to throw at the scattered faces, I settled for shooting them with my best glare as I walked past to fill my cup. Children, all of them. Even still, the adolescent mockery was such a far cry from... what I had seen when I first got to this place. It filled something inside of me, I think, that was longing for home. Earth. A place where you laughed about casual hookups and didn't... well... didn't cut them open and fill their wombs with maggots, just to see what would happen. Breakfast turned out to be stale, unleavened bread. It wasn't anything to write home about really, but there it was. And I was hungry. It wasn't long before Bushwar quickly found me again and started piling in with some inane chatter. Whatever. For the first time, I started listening to it - really listening. And he turned out to be sort of ok. "The thing about Boulder is, you know, in Colorado, the thing about it is everyone is united, you know? You all want the same thing, and you like, work to make your culture a little bit better." He prattled on. "We should really do something like that here, you know? This 'World Tree' or whatever did not live up to the hype, like at all. You hear the stories - created by a great Druid, protected by his legacy. A guild dedicated to protecting the forest and serving as the arm of the Empire. But it's all just hype man. Just because we're in hell doesn't mean we have to be killing all the time. We could, like, make something here..." Ya, he wasn't all bad. Though it seemed like he had been munching a few too many mushrooms to me, and I wasn't sure if he had the type of attitude really that we wanted to encourage in our DPS. Whatever. Despite pressuring me to get up and get going, Fr3 took a surprising long time to get ready himself. And I was about to tell Mr. Bushwar how very much I actually hated John Lennon when Fr3 finally came out of the tent. "Finally," I straight up told him. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, sister. I'm coming, I'm coming." He muttered as he lumbered his way out of the tent. There was an expression, at least, that I was glad had died in the 90's, but I didn't want to tell him that. Since, you know, from the sound of it he did too. Die. In the 90s. Ya. Anyway, there was a stall where they were issuing standard clothes and equipment to Guildmembers. Apparently, the whole operation was subsidized by 'The Empire', or, you know Westershire feudalism. But, gift horse, mouth - I went ahead and showed them my medallion and took what they gave me. The lack of an inventory system, or like, a portable pocketdimensional wallet at least, really, really sucked about this place. I ended up with a roughspun tunic, some breaches, a cloak (yes, a cloak. It was friggin warm, ok?), and a belt. They didn't seem too keen on the idea of issuing me a spare set, and they didn't fit very well anyway, so I went ahead and left it at that. At the next booth over they issued me a rope, some more rations, and a crude compass. A compass which, I supposed, would be worth its weight in gold as we got deeper into the forest. None of the weapons felt right in my hand. They tried to convince me to take up a sickle, as that was apparently their founder's primarily weapon. But I knew, as sure as I could read my own character sheet, that I was not actually a Druid. It really didn't seem right to take a weapon away that someone else could use. So, in the end, I decided to go with practicality over appearances. Especially since it would be my neck on the line if we were slaughtered too. Ironically, someone had left a broom by the stall next to the weapons. I smirked when the boys had their backs turned, and I went to pick it up. No way would a literal hellscape go for cutsey bullshit. But, I have to admit, I was curious. And then I picked it up. You found: Crude Broom Would you like to store one of your spells? Y/N God damnit. So, with my eyes downcast I walked over to the weapon dealer and waited for him to see me. "Mim! Did you find anything you liked? Staff? Polearm maybe?" He said hopefully, in a much too upbeat voice to be coming from a Government employee. "Um," I choked out. "I'd actually... like... to take this um... broom. If it's all the same to you." He coughed. "You want to take what now?" I looked up at his face and tried to look as serious as I possibly could. "The..um... broomstick. Please." The man blinked at me. Then he looked at my companions (currently looking at shiny weapons and knives). In the end he didn't seem to have anything else to say. He just waved his hand in dismissal and turned away. Turned away as if he was just going to pretend like he had never met the little girl with her broomstick before in his life. I tried to put the broom in my bag, but the bristles kept poking out and it was still pretty obvious what it was. Still, I decided, it was better than walking around here carrying the thing, so I just left it there and waited for my boys to finish whatever it was that they were doing. Fr3 was the one who found me first, seemingly trailing the little hippie DPS in toe. "So, did our healer find a weapon, after all?" "Ya, lets go," I muttered. Hoping to lead them away fast enough that they didn't ask any questions. I made it a good minute too before the inquisition resumed. "So, what was it? Come on, I'm dying to know. I would have bet money that you would have ended up with the staff. Or at least the little wand thing." He was huffing beside me, from the pace I was setting, but it didn't seem to be slowing him down at all. "It's in my backpack," I muttered as we walked. Careful to avoid eye contact. "What is, your weapon? Let me see!" He literally bounced along beside me. The boy needed to be wearing his chestplate at all times from now on, I decided. "You can see it just fine," I turned my head away at that point, hoping that the words would be lost in the crowds shuffle. But the guy had hearing like a bat. "I can... what? The broom?" His shock was actually palatable. Which, all in all, was pretty much exactly what I had expected. I ignored him. He continued on, unslowed. "Woah. I thought you were just wanting to clean up the tent or something. You can actually use that in combat? What does it do?" Incredulous, "You thought I was going to... what?" My voice rose much higher than it should have. I think I even heard it crack a bit there, at the end. I stalked away swiftly, finally leaving the guys in the dust. And I sat there patiently at the clearing as they caught up, refusing to say a word. Instead, I took out my new broom and reached down to quickly select the 'Yes' icon. Input spell. I held it in front of me and watched as a little trail of purple light surrounded the wooden handle, speaking the words for my Heal spell and letting the light slowly fade. Spell: Eternal Pact Successfully stored. Skill Learned! Spell Foci (Witchcraft)(Wisdom) Increases the number of spells that may be successfully stored in a Witches' focus. Also increases the potency of spells cast while the foci is held. Only one foci may be active at one time. And so, broom in hand, I marched with my party into the monster-filled forest. I heard Bushwar whisper, "That's just too cute!" from behind my back as I was walking. But I pretended not to hear.