“So let me get this straight,”

Damien says.

“You arrived back at the dragons cave, which you didn’t tell me you were going to by the way. Retrieved a single scale, before the cave was filled by some ‘Highly corrosive gas’ that caused you to flee with nothing but the bag on your back. On your way back you were attacked with by a pack of worgs, in which you came within an inch of your life. Woke up greeted a group of orcs, with a dwarven greeting! Then invited the ‘emissaries’ to come live in the city.”

I nod,

“Yes.”

Damien lets out an exasperated groan, and throws his hands up.

“By Brogirs bushy beard. I feel like I need to leash you like a dog.”

He gestures to the cells where the goblin is kept.

“Well we have a stark decrease in drunks ever since they realized they’d have to spend the night in the drunk tank with the goblin. Plus the green little shit hasn’t tried escaping.”

I smile, and nod.

“Thank you for your wonderful service, I would greatly appreciate if you could purchase some horse sausages, or some cheap horse meat, and get it cooked for Arthur.”

He winces when I say the name. He whispers to me cupping his hand.

“Must you say that name? It’s bad luck. In the capital saying that name in public is 20 lashings.”

I wave my hand dismissively.

“Superstitions, superstitions.”

Damien lets out a sigh.

“I’ve had five grey hairs since your arrival.”

I pat his hand reassuringly.

“That just mean you are getting old. Also would you mind reserving a time where I can train in the courtyard, your guards are free to join, but I doubt they will be enthusiastic to join me.”

I stand up from Damiens desk and walk out of the guard post. The afternoon sun was warm, and the occasional cloud drifted aimlessly across the sky. It was getting chillier, the week I’d spent here showing in the weather. The harvest was coming in, and people had started to store food away. A salty, and sweet scent was in the air as people pickled, preserved, and jellied various foods. I paused outside a butcher shop, I could hear the sound of a cleaver hitting flesh. The tearing of tendon, muscle, and meat.

Food was almost a null factor because of the dragon eye, however I doubt I could live eating just those for my entire life. Canning, and refrigeration were-

I cut myself off I have more important things to worry about right now, I have a roof over my head and food in my belly. No need to complicate things, it would be better to give researchers small hints than tell them how to build things.

The tavern had been thumping since our return, and Marnies new scale. Since this morning after the rush job that Marnie had paid for last night. She had gotten the scale framed in mithral, using some of her savings. Then hung it from the mantle. It had taken most of the night, but come morning the place was packed. People were looking at the scale, which was free. The drinks however were not. Marnie had made a killing, as people celebrated the death of the dragon, freedom from constant fear, and the new Lord who did it.

As I walked in I was immediately noticed.

“Cheers fer Milord the dragon slayer.”

Someone shouted.

“AAAAYY.”

The crowd cheered back, the noise shook the building. Llewellyn didn’t like the noise, so I’d offered to pay Lilies wage to both Marnie, and her to watch him.

I was assaulted by frothing mugs, and drunken workers promising me their daughter's hand in marriage. I respectfully declined. Another round of cheers went up as I took a seat. The carpenters in town had worked together to get a large wooden chair, painted in gold and furnished with animal furs for me to sit on. A barmaid came out with a large serving platter covered in mugs, filled with different drinks.

“These’re some o’ the drinks that ‘ave been bought fer ya. We got another couple o’ trays to bring out.”

She says, practically shouting for me to hear her. There had to be at least 16 drinks on the tray. I pick up one that looks the least like it’ll kill me, and take a swig. Another round of cheers goes up. My shoulders, and back are going to be bruised by the amount of slaps on the back I’m getting.

I see Rogue push his way through the crowd, his hands darting into people's pockets almost imperceptibly, almost. I see a smallish hand reach out of the crowd, while he fishes for some more coin to dump in his coin pouch. The hand deftly unhooks the pouch, and disappears into the throng of people. Rogue was smart though, and a thin piece of wire tied from his pouch to his belt gives a tug. He reaches through the crowd and grabs the hand of a skinny kid. I flick a gold coin in the air, and rogues ears perk up. He turns to me, holding the boys hand. I gesture for him to come closer to me, with the boy. He walks over dragging the frightened boy to my table. I cup my hand around his ear.

“Find out why he is stealing, how many kids like him are around, and where they are located. Keep an eye on this one in the future.”

He nods, and drags the boy away. People come by, and hand me drinks, and talk with me. The sober ones look at me with respect, the drunk ones look away when they get sick, out of respect of course. I’ve progressed from the pleasant mead at the start to that vile brew Marnie first served me. The dwarves are the ones buying me that. A couple of people bought me spiced wine, which was pleasant. I’ve tried to keep myself hydrated, taking a sip of water to everyone of alcohol. Marnie also cooked up a lovely roast which I got served a plate of.

Fighter eventually found his way to my table, and seated himself. He picked up one of the many mugs, and sipped at it. He gave me a nod, but didn’t make conversation. I had no idea what to think of fighter. He seemed off, like he was smart but pretended he wasn’t. Rogue seemed fairly competent, he had either some sort of magical ability that let him be better if he got paid, or was pretty powerful already but would do anything for a gold. Wizard was one of those kids who studied for fun, and would probably have owned and read Encyclopedia Britannica in its entirety.

Cleric was different, she seemed forced into this. Her Geas/Quest played a factor, but it seemed very much that there was more to it. Obviously it hadn’t been to slay the dragon. She almost seemed like someone who wanted to be a Paladin but couldn’t go through with it for whatever reason, and wound up forever a Cleric. Something else was going on however, as she obviously has not healed someone with grievous wounds like I had. Maybe she grew up in a temple, or something similar. I should ask her about the gods shouldn’t I? I scratch my face in thought, and take a sip of the mead in front of me.

I am pulled from my thoughts as Cleric loudly, and drunkily, stumbles into a chair.

“Wassup.”

She slurs. She reaches for a full mug, and knocks two over in the process. She grabs the full mug, and puts it to her lips. She tilts her head back, and in a few seconds has finished the drink.

“Yaknow yer a dick. A dicky cocky penis.”

She pauses to chug another drink. She puts the empty mug down, and pokes her finger into my cheek.

“Ya make me all mad atchu, then go an do summing like gettin yoursilf injured. An i feel bad an heal you, but-"

She pauses. She presses a finger to my lips.

“Ssssshhhhh, sshh. Im bout to say a secret. You can't tell anyone, so sssshhhhh.”

I nod and she removes the fingers from my lip. I stop her from speaking.

“Hey Anise lets-"

She proceeds to vomit all over herself, down the front of the clothes she wears under her vestments.

“Yeah we are going upstairs Anise, do you know where Cadence is?”

She is completely oblivious to the vomit.

“Ya said my name im soo happy like soooooooo happy. Cadessss was talkin to a guy with a big beard and then they went somewhere. Ya know they say that people with bigbeards are compensaing so he prolaly has a small dick.”

She overemphasizes the last word.

“Yup Anise come on we are going upstairs.”

I grab her under the arm, and stand her up. I walk her through the crowd, and to the stairs. It takes her a second to maneuver up the first steps, but I help guide her up. I duck into the supply closet and grab a bucket. Cleric stumbles over herself as she tries to navigate to her room.

I grab her arm again, and lead her to the door. She fumbles for the key, and misses the socket a couple times. I try to take it from her, but she slaps my hand away.

“No, no Im not that drunk. I can do thish.”

She insists, but it still takes another few tries to get it in. Her room is neat, and tidy. Her travelling gear and arms packed up, and at the foot of the bed. She starts taking her clothes off immediately. I avert my eyes.

“Helf help. It shtuck."

She calls out. Her vomit covered shirt had gotten stuck over her head. So her arms were raised awkwardly. I walk over, and help her take the shirt off the rest of the way. Underneath she wears a tight fitting, leotard like clothing. It covers all of the skin on her body, and it even buttoned to the thin moleskin gloves she wears constantly. Thinking on it, I hadn’t seen any of her skin besides her upper neck, and face. She covers my eyes.

“Sit, eyes closhe. Help maybe after.”

I turn and sit making a big show to cover my eyes. I hear more ruffling of clothes, and while tempted to peak I wasn’t so weak willed. It goes quiet for a moment, then I hear the floorboards creak. She walks closer to me I think. Two hands strongly push me backwards, onto the bed.

“Anise what are you doing?”

Before I can open my eyes, she places a hand over my face. She mounts me, and exerts much more strength than I thought she had to keep me pinned down.

“Ssssshhhhhhh.”

She says her voice low, and breathy.

“Anise stop this right now!”

I struggle under her grasp. Using my hands to push her backwards.

“Stop!”

She commands the air pulses and an unfamiliar sensation rushes over my skin. Like thousands of tiny insects crawling over me. I can’t move anymore. Struggle as I might, I’m locked in place. I can only breathe, and move my eyes.

She removes her hand, to reveal her body in it’s horrific glory. Every inch of her skin is burned, scarred, and marked with evil looking marks, demonic depictions, brands, horrific scenes, and ritual circles. Her skin itself is blue, and blackened in various places, like a corpse. Her eyes tear up.

“You saw, you weren’t supposed to see.”

She chokes out. I look along the base of her neck, and see a faintly glowing collar. The manifestation of her Geas/quest? I can’t say anything locked as I am. She looks into my eyes.

“No matter.”

Her eyes blink like that guy from MIB at the start of the movie. Side to side, not up and down. Her iris turns red, and her pupil dilates. Her sclera turns black, and she looks down at me. I strain against the spell, but can do little. She fumbles with my pants. I push against the effect it can’t last to long. I can feel her touching me. NO THIS WON’T HAPPEN. I push against the effect again. She slides myself into her, with a low moan. She bounces up, and down on my rigid body. I derive no pleasure from this. Straining against the effects of the spell once more. I feel the compulsion begin to weaken. I focus my will on my arm, as she violates me.

“Please don’t fight I have to, I have to…”

She whimpers. Her eyes shifting to a frightened girl, for a split second. I falter, and my concentration lapses. I won’t stand idly by again. I feel something break inside myself, like a faucet being turned. The compulsion doesn’t break though. He leans over me, her chest in my face. She places her hands over my shoulders, and grinds up against me. I slam my will again. The spell is starting to weaken.

“Please Stop!”

I feel the spell lapse momentarily but then it’s back at full force. The seconds start to blend together. She is so much stronger than me. Her spell just pushing my will down over and over again. I don’t understand where this came from. I suddenly feel release, and she collapses on top of me sobbing.

“I’m sorry,”

She chokes.

“I had to, I had to.”

I spin around, and pin her under me.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!”

I shout. I was violated. I was seething. I wrap my hands around her throat, and squeeze. Her previous strength is gone and she scratches at my hands and arms.

“Puh- puh- lease,”

She strains.

“G-ge-as.”

I loosen my grip, and she greedily swallows down air. She begins to sob again. Holding her hands to her face. The golden light around her neck, hasn’t disappeared though.

“What is your Geas?”

I get off of her, and pace the room to calm myself. My blood is boiling, and I don’t want to do something I will regret.

“I’m an oracle. I was given a geas by my god. To find the prophesized one and sire it’s- your children through any means necessary. And you came through the portal, and, and.”

She sobs again. My rage at her has abated somewhat, but my fury at whatever god she serves grows further. I pound the wall with my fist. She stands shakily to her feet. I walk to her and grab her by the throat, and lift her off the ground.

“WHY NOT TELL ME? I KNOW HOW THESE THINGS WORK! I COULD HAVE HELPED.”

She kicks her legs out, and struggles in my grip. Choking as I hold her a foot in the air. I’m just so angry. At the gods, at her, at my father, at the world, at my situation, at life, at myself. I hear a cracking noise, and then a blinding light throws me across the room.

I shake my head. My vision is blurry, I’ve dented the wooden wall where I was flung backwards. Anise is slumped onto the bed, the geas around her neck is gone. I look at my hand, and see that a pattern similar to the one around her neck has been scorched into my palms.

My anger has faded. Leaving behind a pounding headache.

“Jeez, what the fuck.”

I stand up, and walk over to the bed. I give Anise a once over. A bruise is forming on her neck from my hand. I pull lift her up, and pull the blanket up and over her. She was a victim in this as much as I was. Though she could have handled it better. I can only support her now. I sit on the wooden chair in the corner of the room. I’ll deal with the rest of this shit in the morning. I'm so exhausted now. My muscles are tired, and I feel drained mentally. I can add deities to my shit list now. I chuckle, and let the release of sleep overtake me.