“Eh… what?” Brisbane stammered,
turning his gaze to the woman dressed in white robes. “What was that loss, ye
say you’re a healer?”
“Uh… Yes!” Annice shouted out, now
very aware there were a great many eyes on were on her.
“Alright alright, uh, just give us
all a wee moment there folks!” Brisbane tapped his throat with the wand as he,
along with Wilhelm, walked to the stands and approached Annice. “Alright there
Lass, ye say you’re a healer, that mean yer offerin to heal on behalf of this
lug over here?” He gestured to Wilhelm, Annice regarded him, she was a bit star
struck, though not as much as she would have been. She realized how much that
display of abuse towards his healer cooled her opinion.
“Yes, I suppose that is what I’m
offering. “ She stated with a nod.
“That there symbol on your medallion
belays you’re one of Syrene’s faithful, was under the impression they don’t
notmally look too kindly on us prize fighter types.” Wilhelm stated, gesturing
to the dangling medallion, a series of intricately overlapping circles,
currently in the arrangement of a Starburst. “Feel like we’re kinda the
anti-thesis of her domain?”
“Syrene is the goddess of Peace,
her followers abhor strife and war… We are not, strictly speaking however,
barred from enjoying fighting as sport, as long as it is not done with malice
or intest to do lasting harm.” Annice wasn’t exactly lying, it was all true,
but it was hardly a popular interpretation of her church.
“Well, if you got the magic, come
on down.” Wilhelm offered his hand to assist her down, but she decided to scale
the podium herself, rather gracefully coming to a landing in the arena.
“Alright folks, apologies for the
confusion, we’re gonna go ahead and take a small break again to manage this,
ah, siruation.” Brisbane called out, touching the wand to his throat again.
Annice was, well, overwhelmed. She
wasn’t entirely sure why she was doing this, especially since her opinion of Wilhelm
had taken a sharp decline. She was lead to the through the arena and into a the
back stage area, where the fighters stayed between their matches. It was a
whirlwind of an event as various organizers questioned her and called on her to
demonstrate her abilities. One person would prick themself with a dagger and
ask her to heal it, the next would slash at their forearm with the blade and do
the same. Each time the injury became slightly more severe, once they were
finished they asked her if Syrene had gifted her with enough magic that day to
heal a body from near death, when she nodded she was handed a scroll. A
contract to sign, waiving all liability for death from the Colloseum and onto
her as a certified Cleric of Healing Magic. She furrowed her brow, concerned
now that she might be getting herself into more trouble that she may have originally
bargained for, but signed it anyway.
Once she was done with all of that,
Wilhelm approached. He seemed hesitant to speak with the Half-Elf, pacing from
one foot to the other for a moment, when she tilted her head at him and gestured
with her hand for him to please speak, he did so.
“Look, I know it ain’t exactly what
you signed up fer, but my previous healer was the one who would help me don my armor
and check to make sure it was secure, you ah… wouldn’t happen to know how to do
that, would ye?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck and seeming downright
sheepish. “I would ask one of the other fighters, but it’s kinda bad form to
have anyone but yer team do equipment checks, ya know?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, Sir, I’ve
never been part of a Tournement like this before.” Annice began, but Wilhelm
interjected.
“Nah nah, that’s very polite of you
and all, and thank you for that, but no Sir, please. I ain’t no Knight and I
got no honorifics. Wilhelm, if you please.
“Of course, Wilhelm.” Annice smiled
slightly, it was hard to hold on to that burning disappointment in him now. “Yes,
I know how to don armor. I have aided the Syrene Paladins with theirs on more
than one occasion.
“Great! Thank ye kindly, you really
pulled my butt outa the flames there ma’am.”
“Annice.” She stated.
“Annice.” Wilhelm smiled and beckoned
her to follow.
Wilhelm lead her to a small room where
his equipment was stored. The breastplate, pauldrons, and Warhammer rested atop
a wooden table and the maul, too large, was set in a special rack along with
the shield. Wilhelm took the breastplate and sat on a stool. With Annice’s
assistance they opened the armor and lifted it above the man’s head, slowly lowering
it over him. Closing it around the broad man, Annice began to fasten the straps
and cords. As she worked, she couldn’t help but notice Wilhelm’s physique, his
biceps and shoulders, and just how handsome he was up close.
“Si-Wilhelm, can I ask you a
question?” She said, working the armor so that it wasn’t tight enough to pinch,
but so that it would not come undone in moving.
“Annice, you just made sure I got
to finish this tourney, you can ask me two.” He grinned, and shifted to aide in
her work.
“Why did your healer leave?” She
asked, gesturing him to bring his arm up. She began to fasten the pauldron to
the armor, and strap. Her fingers once or twice accidently met with his flesh,
trailing over his forearm. His muscles were like iron. “I must admit, I saw your
discussion with him, and while I could not hear it seemed you were being quite
cruel to him.
“Piss on that!” He called out, and
then turned to look at the woman, who’s gaze had snapped to his. “Sorry.” He grit
his teeth awkwardly. “I mean, I was cruel to him because he was being a no good
rotten worm. He told me to throw the fight.”
“Throw the fight?” Annice continued
her work, but kept half a glance on the man’s face.
“Yeah, told me some bookie got at him,
told him we’d make a lot of money, more than the pot, if we threw the fight. He
wanted to do it, I said no.” Wilhelm huffed and turned away. “Said he needed
the gold, so I said to him he could take his gold and shove every coin up his-…
Well, I told him no.” Wilhelm stated, glancing back.
“I see.” Annice stated. She couldn’t
see any lies in the man’s face, no strife, frustration aplenty, but he was
being honest. “I’m surprised that he would ask someone like you to do that.”
“Right? That’s what I was tellin
Brisbane. But he’s a Capils Faithful, the god of Coin and Fortune.” Wilhelm
shrugged, and balked when Annice smacked his shoulder. “Hey!”
“Shh, don’t move or your bindings
are gonna be knotted.” Annice had no more animosity, no more bitterness for
this man. She could be happy to watch him fight again, and now… Suddenly
apparent to her, she was acting as a healer! She tried to quell the very sudden
rush of excitement that was threatening to burst from her.
“Yes’m.”
The two continued on in mostly silence
after that, the armor coming together. Once done she took his Warhammer, and
grunted as she lifted it, passing it to him. He took it and fastened it to his
belt. Next she took the Maul, and once it came free of the rack she yelped and doubled
over at the weight of it. He let out a laugh and her face felt suddenly hot.
She scowled at him, and he apologized. With his assistance, she got it onto his
back. Finally she handed him the shield, and he was ready.
“Now you’ve seen the fights before,
you know how they work yeah? Seen the Wards?” Wilhelm asked as they walked down
a hall towards the entrance into the arena proper.
“Uh, yes. I’ve seen that kind of
Warding in the past, they are Protection magic, they keep you from dying when a
lethal blow is struck.” Annice said in reply.
“Yeah, but thing is they can’t do
that forever. In fact not fer long at all. It’s why when one goes off you see
the healers sprintin like the King of the Three Hell’s himself was on their
asses. Those protections wear off fast and when they do, well, a lethal blow is
a lethal blow. So when you see that flash, you come arunnin. You can handle that?”
It was obvious he wasn’t questioning her ability but giving her one last out,
if she felt in herself any hesitation at the idea of it. It was also obvious
that if her answer was no, he wouldn’t think less of her. This question was for
her benefit, nothing more.
“I can.” She said, and she truly
believed that she could. In the past, when she acted as a healer, it was mostly
at the Healing House, where Clerics and Apothecaries cared for the sick and
dying. She had never actually healed a man in battle.
“Alright.” He smiled, “Now one last
thing, the Ward can’t do squat against blows that pierce the brain space. That
happens, well, feel free to save your energy and take a leisurely stroll out to
me, cause it won’t matter at thas point.”
Annice swallowed hard at the rather…
grim jovialness Wilhelm spoke on this.
“Well Annice, let’s go kick some
ass.” Wilhelm gave her a wink, and pressed though the entrance to the Arena
just as Brisbane called his name.
“Alright, and his opponent, from
the Mad Mountains of Lygorn, here he be, the beast of Belkan…. KREK!” Brisbane
called out Wilhelm’s opponent, and Annice gasped, covering her mouth with her
hands.
From a separate entrance to the
arena stepped a bugbear, a massive creature covered in matted fur. Pointed in
ear, claw, and fangs. The creature was a hand taller than seven feet, and wore
a tabard and leather armor that stretched over it’s monstrously muscular form.
It stared down at Wilhelm through sickly yellow eyes, and grunted at the man
with a clear disdain. Reaching back it pulled from a leather sheath a battle-axe
that it wielded no differently than a human would wield a handaxe. When the creature
reached back again and pulled out a second one, Annice nearly fainted.
“Goddess, protect him.” She whispered.
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