Before she even knew what exactly she was doing, Winifred had stomped her way over to Zacharias and lifted the cocky little ponce up by his silk undershirt, her left hand more than enough to heft the Halfling off the ground with ease.

As tempted as she was to slam the prick into the wooden walls they were surrounded by, Winifred choked down that impulse as her eyes skittered across the unfamiliar room.

Outside of the cot Winifred had just awoken in, there wasn’t much to see, a plain looking desk with cluttered papers atop it, her other two companions who were nervously staring at her and…

‘Why is there shattered glass everywhere?’

“What in the Nine Hells, Zach? Where are we and what the fuck happened?” Winifred blearily croaked out, her eyes still roaming across the room, looking for anything dangerous . “What happened with the Gods damned Shade?”

If Zacharias had any objections to being so severely manhandled, the thief didn’t let it show on his face as he smirked up at Winifred.

“Easy there darling, easy. You handled the Shade before you passed out, or so Squeakers has been crowing about for the past few days.” Zach snorted, but otherwise remained motionless as his feet dangled off the stone floor.

“As for where we are and what’s been going on, we’ve been waiting for your Eminence to wake up somewhere safe. Talk about a sleeping beauty…” He trailed off with a little laugh.

Taking a moment to look at her surroundings properly, Winifred could see both Skrakch and Meekknuckle staring at her worriedly, the former seemingly trying to decide if he should intervene and the latter actively channeling Mana into her body.

She let Zacharias drop to his feet as she lifted her right arm again, staring at where her hand should be. Her companions had clearly taken the time to bandage the stump, but Winifred could see the bits of blood bubbling through the cloth.

“Did… was it the Shade?” Winifred heard herself ask, her voice quivered slightly as she moved her arm up and down. “The last thing I remember was throwing a punch at the damned thing as we booked it out of there.”

After a long pause, Skrakch was the one to answer. “No, it was the punch itself that did it. The, uh, current theory is that you somehow tapped into your Pact more than you should have, and the result is…” The Ratling trailed off as he shifted his eyes to the side.

‘That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.’ Winifred couldn’t decide if she should laugh or shout, so she settled on making a fist with her remaining hand.

Though even that familiar sensation felt off as her bones creaked ominously in her hand for a moment.

Turning her fist over, Winifred could trace the veins in her forearm, each more prominent than they’d ever been. Her skin was pale, almost pallid, as if she’d been locked away for years.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, Winifred closed eyes and held out her good hand before muttering a single word.

“Mirror.”

It took a few seconds before she heard movement, but before too long she felt a glass shard being slipped into her waiting grasp.

“Now get the fuck out.”

Again, there were a few long moments of silence before Winifred heard the sounds of her companions as they moved about the room, going Gods Below knew where, but at the moment she couldn’t make herself begin to care.

As the sounds came to a standstill, Winifred let out a small noise of anger. “I meant all of ye, damn it.”

“Meek not leaving, Meek busy healing now you awake. But Meek not care if Scary Lady upset. More important to help and heal.” The quiet response came from nearby.

Nodding to herself, Winifred resisted her urge to toss the piece of glass at the Goblin, then begin raging at the foolish little bastard.

Instead she opened her eyes and took in the broken glass bottle she’d been handed, and used it to check the wrinkles lining her face. The small age spots that were now speckled on her cheeks.

The splashes of gray in her hair, mixed amongst the tangled brown threads. The crows nest by her eyes, and a half a dozen other things.

Winifred had always prided herself on not giving a flying Owlbear’s tits about looks, but this wasn’t just an issue of vanity.

Ever since she’d woken up, she could feel the muscles in her back twinging in protest, she could feel the creak of her bones as she moved.

It truly felt like Winifred had lost something intangible, more than just a bit of lost time. More than a piece of her body, as if that wasn’t bad enough.

She felt like a sliver of her soul had been taken from her and she didn’t have the first clue how to get it back.

Winifred clenched the glass until it shattered in her hand, shards breaking off and cutting through her flesh as she tossed the bloody remnants against the far wall.

Before she knew it, she was besides the small desk Zacharias had been sitting at, hands reaching out to grab the wooden piece of filth-

Until she realized she couldn’t grab it with her right hand, her new stump smashing a dent into the desk’s frame.

Screaming wordlessly now, Winifred changed her tactics and simply began beating her damaged forearm against the top of the desk as splinters and flecks of blood splattered across the room.

Bit by bit, she smashed the rest apart with a single-minded determination, no rhyme or reason to the action other than a growing sense of despair that curdled up from her stomach.

If she’d been focused, only a moment’s thought would allow her Mana to enforce her arm's strength and durability to the point where she could smash the furniture apart without a care.

Hells, even calling on a sliver of her Crux would let her break the desk with a single flick. But there was something deeply satisfying and primal about smashing the wooden object to pieces that made Winifred feel better about herself, even if it came at the expense of her own self.

It felt good, it felt right, it felt-

Unfortunately, the desk fully collapsed at this point as Winifred glared down at it. As she stared past the broken stump where her hand should be.

‘How am I meant tae throw out a right hook now?’ The thought struck her out of nowhere, stopping the brawler in her tracks.

Even as she stood there, she could feel the soft glow of Mana restoring her broken skin, she could watch the pieces of wood pull themselves out of her arm.

But the stump remained, taunting her.

Slumping to her knees amongst the debris, Winifred felt a sob rip from her chest as she struggled to breath, struggled to process everything.

As her fight with the Chosen Shade had continued, more and more fear had seeped into her, fear at losing the fight. Fear that her companions would get hurt. Fear that she’d lose control and…

Tears began streaming down her face as Winifred sat there, scrubbing at her eyes with her one good arm before she felt a soft weight collide with her back.

Meekknuckle could barely wrap his arms around her waist, and even sitting she dwarfed his meager form but for a second the Goblin was the only thing holding Winifred together.

It was a few minutes more before Winifred got her thoughts and emotions back under control, but she didn’t move to pull away from Meekknuckle for a few more moments.

“Thanks Meek.”

“No worries Scary Lady. Meek always like you best.”

———————————

Skrakch and Zacharias stood by the warehouse’s back entrance with no small amount of trepidation as they flinched at every resounding crack that emanated from the small office space.

“Oh come on.” Zacharias mumbled after a particularly loud thud as the Halfling watched the warehouse’s cheap walls shudder slightly. “I needed that stuff, y’know.”

Skrakch scoffed loudly as he fingered through his freshly stocked bandolier, though he kept a watchful eye on the door between him and his Chosen companion.

“You’re lucky she didn’t crush your skull, you idiot. I can’t believe I ever let you do the talking for us.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Winifred. The old gal has taken a beating before, how was I supposed to know she’d take offense.”

Skrakch shot the Halfling an incredulous look, before chortling. “You seriously have all the tact of a Houroun. Even the Goblin has better social skills than you do.” The Ratling finished with a grin.

Zacharias turned to glare at Skrakch, distracted from his earlier worry about his warehouse. “Please, one look at either of you two and most folks go running for a Tomb-Makers to put you down.”

“Listen here, you scar-faced jumped up prick, I’ll have you know that-“ Skrakch started to retort as his tail lashed from side to side as he glared at Zach, before the warehouse door opened with a thud and cut him off.

Standing in the doorway, Winifred cut a rather beleaguered sight. Still, the Chosen just let out a scoff as she rubbed one hand offhandedly against a reddened eye.

“Right, we need tae talk.” She announced simply, as she strode past the bickering duo. “And if I’m going tae listen to ye two whinge, I’d like a pint to wash yer nonsense down with.”

“And I’m nae paying for any of it.” Winifred announced as she headed further out into the Slums, with Meekknuckle scurrying after her as the Goblin stuck his tongue out at Skrakch and Zach.

Zacharias let out a small huff of laughter at the sight, before leaning towards Skrakch and muttering. “Bloody Hells, and you all glared daggers at me for mentioning it. Told you she was a pisshead.”

Pushing past Zacharias, Skrakch began to hustle after Winifred as well, but not before calling back to the Halfling. “Whatever Zach, you’re still a prick. But you can make up for it by footing the bill!”