Of Fiends and Misfortune Pt. 03

Jack woke up with a start, the searing pain from his shoulder and head chasing him from the dream world to the waking world.

Judging by the angle of green-tinted daylight that shone through the Alchemist's bedroom, it was late morning. He tried to pull himself to sit up, his body screaming as it made him extremely aware of every injury it had endured in the past 36 hours.

"Good morning. Oh, don't try to get up." His lovely host appeared in the doorway. She wore the same oversized tunic as last night, showing off her shapely legs, and her freshly combed, wine-colored hair cascaded around her curved horns to frame her soft, lavender face. She strode over to grasp him by the hand, guiding him to sit up. "How are you feeling?"

"Been better, been worse. Thanks." He replied, accepting a cup of mysterious liquid she had gently placed in his hand. "What time is it?"

"Half past ten." Marina sat next to him on the bed.

Jack coughed up his bitter drink in surprise. "That late?!" By his estimation, he had slept for nearly twelve hours. "Gods, I'm sorry if I kept you." There was still one more day of Alyssim's Annual Fuck Festival, and Marina had emphasized how busy this time was for the village's healers.

She shrugged. "You needed the rest. And really, I should be thanking you for giving me an excuse to avoid work right now." He was half-listening, distracted by his horrifying reflection in the floor-length mirror at the foot of the bed.

He still couldn't see out of his right eye. The globe was still an orb of blood, however, the flesh around it was now blackened and swollen, creating a monstrous, asymmetrical visage cascading down from the base of his right horn. His right shoulder was still well-bandaged from the previous evening, but a ring of dark bruising decorated around and down his arm. Every spot that hinted at discomfort yesterday, was now visibly marred with swelling, sores, or scuffs across his rust-colored skin.

"It will look worse for a bit before it looks better." Marina touched his arm reassuringly. "That tea will help with the pain." She nodded to the mug in his other hand. "Just some ginger, mint, poppy, and a few other proprietary herbs." She said proudly.

"Thank you." Jack managed to choke down the rest of the strong, spicy liquid. "For... everything." He said quietly, letting his eyes wander about the curiosities of personal and professional décor that covered his host's bedroom walls. "I honestly don't know why you're doing all of this for me..."

"All of what?"

"Well, the care, opening up your home, everything last night..."

"Jack." She spoke calmly but firmly, in a way that drew his eye to meet hers. "First off, I am Alyssim's Alchemist. A healer. I am morally obligated to tend the wounded to the best of my abilities and in the least painful way possible. Secondly, upon finding out who you were, I did feel somewhat guilty on behalf of my sister, seeing as she left you too penniless to even afford a room at the inn. I think offering you a place to sleep was the least I could do. Even if it was the couch. Third," Marina said, cutting off Jack's attempt to protest. "Like I said last night: I find you intriguing and attractive and I enjoy your company. Is that really so hard to believe?" She rested her head on his good shoulder and looked at him through the mirror.

Jack looked at the Tiefling who awaited his answer. She looked even more beautiful than she did last night, as certain small details were now visible in the muted rays of sunshine. Her lavender cheeks and nose were dotted with soft, adorable freckles that emphasized anytime she barely crinkled her nose. Her silver eyes were actually streaks of white, pale blue, and black, which caused them to slightly change color whenever she glanced in a different direction. She had an aura of warmth, and trust, about her.

"I mean, yes." Jack finally replied and continued before Marina could argue. "But thanks for the reassurance. And patience." He sighed. He lifted her hand and gently kissed to tops of her fingers, the way he'd seen noble gentlemen greet their ladies. Marina giggled at the chivalrous gesture, cuddling in tighter under his arm.

"So, what were your plans today?" She asked, after some time.

"I didn't really have any." He shrugged, happy to find the pain-relieving tea had kicked in. "You?"

"Well, I would love to just stay here in bed with you." Marina bit her lip as her fingers danced above the quilt, slowly tracing the curvature of his lower abdomen.

"Oh really?" Jack answered coyly.

"Yeah," She sighed, softly bringing her lips to his. "But unfortunately, I do have to get to work now." She pouted as she pulled away from the brief kiss.

"Well, shit." Jack said, less playfully than he intended. He laid back against the headboard to catch his breath.

"You are welcome to join me, if you'd like. The clinic could really use the extra hand, even if it's just for basic tasks. Of course, you'd be paid too, and the after party can be a lot of fun. Oh, but please don't feel obligated, if you wanted to go out and enjoy the Festival."

Jack was sure the festivities were in full swing back at the village square. Although feeling worlds better than yesterday, opting to go back into the Fuck Festival still bruised and nearly penniless seemed... horrifying.

"You had me at 'paid.'" He said, squeezing her hand and hoping his excitement to spend the day together wasn't too obvious.

***

The two made their way over to the clinic. Although Alyssim was quieter than the previous afternoon, there was still plenty of ale and public fornication scattered across the village square. Marina insisted they dart between the stand-alone buildings that lined the plaza, lest she be recognized and swarmed with requests to remedy whatever problems that may plague one three days into a non-stop orgy.

Marina led Jack into the rear entrance of the stout, stone building, avoiding the handful of Tieflings milling about the front.

Upon entering, it was clear Alyssim's infirmary was not a religious organization, as it had only a mural of Ilmater's hands painted on the stone doors, the universal sigil for any house of medicine, regardless of the menders' spiritual beliefs.

They snuck in through a cramped hallway and grabbed Jack an extra black worker's robe from one of the supply cupboards. Turning onto a wider and rug-lined walkway, Marina immediately gave away their position as she saw her Apothecary door dotted with bits of scrawled parchment.

"What in the hells is all this?!" She snapped, ripping one of the notes off of its tack.

A door opened from the far end of the hall. A silhouette of a man finished wringing his hands with a handkerchief before crossing the threshold. From a distance, he could easily be mistaken for a Human, as he had no evidence of horns poking from under his salt-and-pepper hair, nor tail trailing behind him. However, once closer, it was clear he had the same sharp fangs and whiteless eyes as any other Tiefling. "Oh, there she is! Bright eyed and bushy tailed at the early hour of eleven A.M! Long night, Chippy?" The man said with a half smirk and brief glance towards Jack.

"Are these... delivery requests?!" Marina gasped, frantically pulling down the dozens of notes off her door.

"Yes. You weren't here, and no one knew when you would be back. This seemed like an elegant solution that got the people off our backs." He rubbed the stress lines under his eyes.

"Can't stay hard... Vaginal soreness... Jaw cramps..." Marina read the notes as she robotically handed them off to Jack. "Zander, I made a back stock for all these. You could have just passed them out as they came in."

"No one had time to vet them for you. You know how it is during The Festival: no staff and just so many patients. I just had two show up with a bottle stuck up their ass this morning. Like the same bottle. At the same time. Like two dogs fighting over a bone. But with rectums, and extreme risk of perforation. Amazingly Silas and I got everything apart in one piece. I have the bottle in my office if you want to see it, might get a little placard for it." Zander said, almost dreamily.

Marina had finished clearing her door. "I really, really don't. Look, please just send people right in. No more damn notes." She said before ushering Jack into her office and closing the door behind them.

It was a comfortable, but purposeful room, lined with shelves nearly overflowing with bottles and ingredients collected from every corner of the world. An examination chair upholstered in padded leather served as the chamber's centerpiece. Marina spread the bits of paper across one of the several worktables that jutted out from the shelves and pressed her weight into her hands as she stared down at the orders.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked, seeing her lower lip quiver.

"What am I going to do?" She shook her head, surveying each slip. "More patients are going to come knocking any minute now. How am I supposed to get these all delivered all over the village? Not to mention the ongoing brews, and forget the people who are actually sick..."

"You said you had a back stock of most of these?" Jack flipped through his short stack of parchment slips, each one noted with a name, ailment, and likely delivery location.

"Yes! Which is why it's so maddening that no one could grab them as people came in! I swear they're just punishing me for taking a morning off..."

"Okay, so I'll just deliver them." Jack said calmly, grabbing an empty satchel he spotted under a work bench. "It'll be fine."

"Don't be ridiculous. I couldn't possibly ask that of you." She swiveled towards him. "You're injured! Never mind trying to navigate this big village you hardly know."

"Marina, with all due respect, I've made a career out of tracking people down who didn't want to be found. This is nothing." He half smiled and boastfully thumbed the papers. "Plus I offered to help today, didn't I?"

Marina eyed him skeptically, as if searching for a reason to protest. "Very well." She finally submitted. "But keep in mind, people are probably expecting me to hand deliver these."

"I'll be sure to apologize for the disappointment."

They spent the next several minutes meticulously preparing any orders they could, and it wasn't long before the satchel was full.

"Deliver the ones for the Town Hall first! I would not want to keep the Aldermen waiting." Marina instructed. Jack nodded, but before he could turn to leave, Marina wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing an ear against his chest. "And thank you." She said quietly. Suddenly, Jack felt a nervousness that usually only precluded the most dangerous of life-or-death assignments.

***

It was an odd feeling for the mercenary; focusing as he does when given a job, while being completely unarmed and unarmored. While logically Jack knew there was very little chance he would need to resort to violence while navigating through the celebrations of Alyssim, he found himself instinctually checking for the hilt of a non-existent dagger on his hip.

The thought of the two men back in the spiders' lair still weighed heavy in his mind. Those men were looking for the village for some nefarious reason, and they had been dangerously close to finding it. There could be other seeking this place as well.

The handful of guards Jack passed did little to ease his thoughts. Their leather armor was worn and ill-fitted, and their short swords were flaked with rust. They seemed extremely relaxed, some just as inebriated as the celebrants. As Jack overheard a drunken pair of guards taking bets on whether one could shoot an apple off another head, a temptation to just start robbing the merchant stands one by one crossed his mind. Hells, maybe the village deserved it if this is what they offered when it came to their own security.

The thought was fleeting. He was headed to the Town Hall for the first of his potion deliveries and would hopefully be able to relay his account of Dritver and Garrett to whoever is managing these fools.

Alyssim's Town Hall was not difficult to locate. It was the largest of the few two-story buildings in the village and could easily be followed from the square via a short footpath and simple directions. Comprised of stone blocks that paused to allow only for small windows, Jack would have mistaken it for a prison, if it weren't for the huge open doorway facing the footpath and the familiar smell of beer.

Once he entered, it became clear the Town Hall was at one point, or still was, a church. The far wall was made of stained glass in the shape of fire and stars, bathing the entire chapel, and its occupants, in an insinuating shade of red. Jack estimated about a half-dozen people near the altar, not counting the black-robed staff managing the large keg, playing music, or mopping up the constant mess left by the unclothed celebrants.

Between the doorway and the altar were a dozen or so rows of solid stone pews, seemingly built up from the floor. They were empty, save for a woman in the last pew. She glanced up at Jack as he entered.

Jack tried to look away before the woman could notice him eying her, but he was a fraction of a second too late. Their eyes met, and she slowly approached him with a smile. She was nude, with the exception of a black lace choker around her delicate neck and black lace garters holding matching stockings high onto each attractive thigh. The scant bits of fabric seemed to accentuate the exposed areas of crimson skin; including breasts that seemed impossibly perky and the smooth, warm area between her thighs, which she wasted no time in pressing against Jack's rapidly growing erection.

"Hi there. You look like you've been working so hard. I take it you're here to relieve some... tension?" She reached down and gave his stiffening cock a gentle squeeze through his robes.

She locked him in place: one leg hooked around the back of his knee, one hand massaging his shoulder, and the other reaching up to gently stroke his hair.

Jack took a long time to answer, suddenly finding it difficult to remember why he was there and what he was supposed to be doing. The mysterious woman closed her eyes, seemingly getting immense pleasure from slowly rubbing his member through his clothing.

The weight from the full satchel reminded him of the task he still hadn't started. "I can't..."

"Aw, luv, if you're shy, we'll go into one of the side rooms." She nodded her head towards an alcove that seemed to lead into a stone hall. "It's very private. We could put out the lamps, close the doors." She bit her lower lip, waiting his answer. "Why don't we start by you telling me your name. I like to know what I'll be moaning later."

"I'm Jack..." He was trying to think. There had to be a catch, but why? What if something happened to the satchel or its contents after he followed this woman? How could he possibly explain that to Marina? Also, who the hells was this person and should he even care at this point?

"Look, Jack," The mystery woman interrupted his thoughts, his name sounding smoother than melted gold in her voice. "The Aldermen aren't changing staff this late. I know why you're here, darling, and there's no need to be coy."

He suddenly realized what this woman's job was, and why she had bombarded him on sight. He couldn't help but to feel a bit relieved at the clarification, regardless of his slightly bruised ego.

"I'm just here to deliver potions." He stammered, hoping it would be enough to convince the courtesan he was not here for her services, as tempting as they were.

"Oh." She took a step back from him, dropping her sex-starved demeanor. "Is Marina okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. Just really busy, so I'm delivering her orders."

"Hm, lucky girl to have such a thoughtful assistant." She leaned back against the pew, letting her shoulders hunch and body relax out of its stringent posture. "Is there one for Lilly in there?" Jack sifted through the satchel, and sure enough, found the requested bottle, for which Lilly graciously traded several silver coins. "Thank the Gods. Bit of advice, don't eat the fish today. It must have turned. Please let Marina know I am very grateful."

"I will." Jack continued to look through the bag. "By the way, do you know where I could find 'Remus' and 'Voletta?'" He asked, reading off the tags of the remaining two bottles destined for Town Hall.

"Voletta and Remus are going to be up there." Lilly pointed out two of the celebrants at the Town Hall's altar.

"Thanks." Jack replied.

"You are so very welcome, Jack." Lilly said, her voice once again filled with desire. "And should you need any relaxation once your task is completed, you know where to find me."

He simply nodded, reminding himself that Lilly's interest would likely fizzle once finding out he had no coin to spare. Nevertheless, he considered asking what time her shift ended as he took a final look at her fantastic figure before turning towards the altar.

Voletta, a powerful wisp of a woman, sat in an ornate stone chair, its seat and back upholstered with detailed leather. She was at least a generation older than Jack, if not two. Her body, which was likely one of a quick fighter many years ago, was covered in only a sash of sheer silk, draped gracefully around her back and across her arms. Behind her stood a man; large, grizzled, and scarred. He gently kneaded his knuckles into Voletta's long neck as she brought a stone goblet up to her pursed lips before she spoke.

"Look Friza, we can't just make gold and iron fall from the sky. If you want more resources, you'll have to find them."

Voletta was addressing another Tiefling woman, who was lounging on a chaise that seemed to be dragged in from some other location. Like the other near-by celebrants, she was nude. Her legs were spread, and the face of the rotund man that Lilly had described to be Remus was fixated between them.

Friza scoffed, but did not move. "I'm not asking you to create a miracle. I'm just asking you to sign off that it needs attention. My scouts are stretched thinner than pixie skin on a hand drum right now. Hells, just ask Lukas how the last unit faired, having to use hand carved arrows just one week in."

"Fuckin' disastrous." Chimed in the man massaging Voletta.

Remus came up for air from between Friza's legs. "Oh, this shit again? How many times do I need to assure you? Our diplomats report no serious threats within Cormanthor. Hells, we could probably cut the scouts in half if we need foragers, seeing as the Wood Elves have already offered eyes."

At this point, Jack had been standing at the base of the altar, unacknowledged, for an uncomfortably long amount of time. He loudly cleared his throat.

Voletta glanced over at him. "Can we help you?" She sighed in a way that suggested she had no intention of helping him.

Given his line of work, intimidation, whether political or physical, was a rare state for Jack. However, watching these village leaders benignly discuss statesmanship while openly pleasuring each other made him feel quite small.

"I have potions to deliver, from the clinic." Jack fished through the satchel for the two appropriate bottles.

"Bah! What is this?!" Remus pulled himself to his feet. "You're not the Alchemist!" He strode over to Jack at a pace surprising for a man of his weight and age.

"Yes, Marina is-"

He cut him off, snatching both bottles out of Jack's hand. "Hells, I don't think it will even work unless it's administered by that tasty little tart with the massive knockers!"

"You're disgusting, Remus." The woman who previously had her thighs on either side of Remus' head crossed them and sat up. "Now pay the nice man so he can get on with his day."