Guildmaster Hollis sometimes wished he was still Healer Hollis. Times like this were especially bad, and he didn’t think there had been a time like this since he gave in to Guildmaster Arenthya and accepted leadership of the Shining Caverns Healers Guild.

He had eight people - six full healers and two support staff - down sick with something that acted like a fever but clearly wasn’t any of the common ones. There were times when he wished the Council would allow a Death-based Healer who wasn’t a dhampir into the city; it was ridiculous to limit healing of any sort to a single rare species, and Death-based Healers were far better at dealing with illness directly; a Life-based Healer could only strengthen the body to resist, and that clearly wasn’t enough if his healers were catching it from each other.

He wished he could have found out exactly what disease it was, but Ginger had been the first to sicken. Hollis had tried, but all he’d been able to tell was that it was a disease that fed on the person it was attacking - which was extremely common. There was a magical component, but that was true of most diseases that could attack people who’d made it to Tier 3, like Ginger. The puzzling thing was that she hadn’t been anywhere that should have led to catching an unusual disease; she’d taken a short vacation to see relatives, but that was all, and Hollis was pretty sure the relatives were elsewhere in the Shining Caverns, because Ginger was one of the few native Tzintkrans Hollis knew.

No, the answer was to do what they could and hope it worked. It really was too bad that Healing affinity worked well on injuries but not well on most other issues, but that was simply the way of things. Investing in Phys was usually more important anyway.

Ginger did seem to be getting better; the latest news was that she was tossing and turning less, and that her fever might have broken. He’d have to check in on her as soon as he had a few more problems dealt with.

Right now, he had to find some way to cover all of the shifts without overstressing the people he had left, without taking away from the care for the ill. If the disease took two weeks to run its course - which seemed likely if Ginger was already recovering - then he could-

A knock sounded on the outer door, and Hollis absently called out “Enter.”

A man with short blond hair opened the door and stepped inside. “Guildmaster?” He walked up to the table in front of Hollis.

“Rakyn. How’s your daughter? Recovered from that delve yet?” Hollis smiled as he saw his old friend relax. He was far too worried about his daughter; if she was ready to be on Tzintkra, he should have sent her and not come himself, especially not when he had to work as a messenger to keep himself busy. Hollis wondered sometimes if that was all it was, but he wasn’t going to pry.

“Yeah, she’s finally feeling better. They’ve decided to try the same dungeon again next week. Apparently undead amphibians are simply not fair, but they’re still convinced that the water has to be hiding something. At least I know they know how and when to run!” Rakyn shook his head and grinned before setting a small package and a letter on the Guildmaster’s table. “Just two things today. I need to head off, lots of other deliveries today. Sometimes I think that’s why this city is here, not to try to take back the world.”

“Ahh, off with you! You know that’s never going to happen. This is a training world now, the Voice isn’t going to let it go easily.” Hollis waved dismissively at his friend. They’d had that argument on and off for years; Rakyn still believed people were actually working to turn Tzintkra back into a life-giving planet somehow, while Hollis knew that wasn’t necessary or even desirable.

They’d never agree, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Hollis could remember how driven Rakyn was, back in the old days. It was still strange to see him as a messenger, watching out for his daughter. It happened to almost everyone, though; Hollis himself had never married, which was part of how he’d ended up as the local Guildmaster. It was a good position for someone who had nowhere else to go and whose Healing skills were no longer the best.

That wasn’t how it looked to the other Healers, of course, but Hollis knew it was true. He’d have another decade or two as Guildmaster before he handed the responsibility off, the same way Arenthya had. He didn’t think his fate would get better, but he suspected Arenthya’s hadn’t, either.

Rakyn waved at Hollis as he left.

The mail would be more interesting than continuing to try to make schedules match when they were impossible. Hollis examined the letter first.

Guildmaster Irene. It was going to be something annoying and difficult. He put the letter to the side. He’d handle it after he figured something out about the schedule. He could use that time to figure out how to turn her down politely. She probably wanted someone for an expedition; she always wanted more healers for those, but there wasn’t anyone to send right now. Not with so many sick.

The package was interesting. It didn’t say who it was from, and it wasn’t specifically addressed to him; instead, it said ‘Please deliver to Healer Guildmaster’. He wasn’t sure what would fit in a square box that wasn’t more than four inches on each side that needed to go to the Healer’s Hall, but whatever it was would be worth checking out.

Hollis opened the box to see a cloth bag. The material was nice; it had a silken feel. He opened the bag-

“Forty-seven…”

Hollis dodged the thrown rusty knife. There were three more of the little green nuisances around here somewhere. Ah - there was one. Hollis called out [Lightning Spray]! and hit the Goblin Sneak.

“Forty-eight.”

One of them was - there it was! The shaman was hiding under a body, but when it moved to attack, he saw the pile fall. “[Lightning Bolt]! That’ll get you! Ack!”

The fiftieth goblin - the one Hollis hadn’t had time to [Analyze] yet - had struck him in the leg with its claws. Hollis wished he’d picked up that [Magical Healing] Path; if he had, perhaps he wouldn’t be the last one standing.

At least there were only two goblins left. Hollis dropped to the ground and threw another [Lightning Bolt] at the Goblin Shaman, in case it was faking it.

It wasn’t.

“Forty-nine…”

Hollis turned towards the last goblin. [Analyze]

Primal Goblin

Tier: 2

Strengths: Physical Power, Claws, Slight Magic Resistance

Weakness: Stupid, Easily fooled

No wonder this was the last one alive. It was the highest Tier monster in the dungeon, and had magic resistance on top of it.

To think he’d assumed an Onslaught-type dungeon would be fun. At least he knew it would be over with one more goblin.

Hollis threw another [Lightning Spray], only to see the Primal Goblin dodge. He could keep doing that as long as his mana held out, but it was getting low. He couldn’t keep it up forever. He tossed a [Lightning Bolt] but the goblin had plenty of time to dodge.

The goblin needed to be closer, so it wouldn’t have the chance to get away.

Wait, the Analyze said it was easily fooled. Maybe if he pretended to stumble?

Hollis took a step back, then bent his knee a bit farther than he needed to, trying to make it look accidental. He didn’t think he’d succeeded, but the goblin yelled something as it charged. Hollis hurried backwards, trying to keep some distance. [LIGHTNING SPRAY] [LIGHTNING SPRAY] [LIGHTNING SPRAY]

This time, the trip was real, Hollis tripped over the forty-eighth goblin’s body and landed squarely on his butt, with the Primal Goblin nearly at him. He threw up his arm to try to hold it off.

The Primal Goblin’s claws raked his arm as Hollis frantically cast the Skill. [LIGHTNING BOLT]

It wasn’t moving.

That made fifty.

Hollis looked around. He was the only person moving. He needed to find the rest of his party, and feed them some healing potions so they could move on to the treasure, then get out of this place. There was no way they should be moving any farther in.

The next thing Hollis knew, he was waking up with a terrible headache. Why had he dreamt about the worst dungeon experience of his life? Yes, it was important - it was where he’d decided to follow his Healing affinity instead of his Lightning affinity - but he didn’t think about it very often.

For that matter, why did it feel like he was lying on something hard, covered in way too much? This wasn’t his bed.

Could that have been a fever dream? It had seemed awfully real, and that was basically what had happened, but he knew fever dreams could do that. Had he caught whatever sickness was going around?

That still wouldn’t explain the darkness, or why he couldn’t move. His arms hurt, and the position wasn’t comfortable, but whenever he tried to move his arms, he felt something scrape his wrists.

Just what was happening?

Hollis tried to cast [Light], but nothing happened. He’d been able to cast that spell without gestures for decades. Maybe [Mending Word]?

Nothing.

He couldn’t feel his Affinities, either. What was going on?

Hollis tried to get up, to move, to anything, but he was tied down and helpless. No one came when he called out.

He waited in the dark for a long time.

Eventually, he heard a creaking noise, followed by a voice.

“Smells like a sewer in there. Any of them still alive?” It was a man’s voice, but that was all it told Hollis.

“Most of them. Possibly all. Haven’t checked the cursed yet, some of them might have crossed over. We’ve been keeping them near the others to spread it as fast as possible.” A woman’s voice. She sounded brisk and uncaring. It was enough to discourage him from calling out; whoever they were, if they realized he was awake, they might knock him out again. That had to be what had happened, even if he didn’t remember why or how.

The last thing he could remember … what was it?

“Good. More testing is useful, and we can always inject any that don’t catch it.” The man stopped talking for a moment. “The rest of the city hasn’t figured it out yet. I can’t believe it; this is better than my best prediction. Another week and we’ll even be able to leave, there will be too many cursed for anything to handle.”

“Can’t wait.”

There was a similar creaking noise, and Hollis was left to darkness and silence.

There was no rescue coming. Not in a week, not if no one had noticed his disappearance. Hollis hoped that the “cursed” weren’t his own sick healers, but he suspected they were, which meant the entire Hall of Healing had to be here. Any less than that and the Shining Caverns would be in an uproar.

If he could get his hands free - that would be a place to start -

A wave of weakness spread over Hollis, but he shook it off. It didn’t matter how he felt, he had to get out. The city had to be warned of the curse.

His wrists hurt less than they had a moment ago.

If he could free his hands, he could free the other healers. They had a lot of secondary abilities; surely they’d be able to get out of here. It would be nice to survive.