To here the narration (and to hear how I put the episode together), check out the video:
*****
I've gotten into the habit of taking a bit of time daily to sit quietly in the cottage and looking up at the spirit house I built. And improved. It no longer resembles a lean-to. I won't say it's a proper house, but I'm happy to call what it is currently a house. Or at least resembles a house. Whatever. It's good enough for now.
As to why I do this... it's partly because it feels right and respectful. After three weeks of banging around, not really knowing what I was doing, but insisting I did know - to the point of nearly dismissing MouseEye - I felt a need to reset a bit. The last few days were a good start and I'm hoping to continue.
Another reason is I keep wondering if another letter, maybe from my new bestie Pip, who I'll probably never meet, or maybe from someone else, might arrive at any time. I've never been one for friendships but for the life of me I don't understand why I'm so fixated on watching the mail portal. Maybe I'm waiting to see what happens if someone sends something really big.
As I sit, my mind does love to wonder. Endless speculating. Like that idea of a big letter trying to squeeze out from behind my spirit house. But another topic that I've begun to ruminate on is the ramifications of not being able to treat someone, or of having them leaving dissatisfied because I wasn't able to effect a cure or do so quickly enough. To be honest, I've been harbouring these thoughts for a little while. Private speculation. But today I saw MouseEye was awake and around, so I asked.
He twitched his whiskers (it's so cute when he does that), then shrugged. "I know there's a doctor, of sorts, in High Rannoc. I guess they'd go to him."
"Of sorts?"
He shrugged again. "Mmhmm."
I stopped myself from asking why he gave a qualified answer. If MouseEye wanted to share, he would. So I internally shrugged back. And hit on another topic.
There's no doubt there's an underlying spirit or wisdom existing on the grounds. Or in the grounds. The wild rose recovering nearly instantly from being trampled. The bees so quickly becoming part of the property. Maybe even my ability, as an untrained novice, to not only recognize but safely collect reagents and then brew them into potions that are effective. Imagine someone using pine bark and bat guano to create a potion that would decrease flatulence! But that's how I feel. Yes - I have the book and something definitely happened when I read it. A knowledge transference of sorts.
Is the old witch somehow still here? Here yet not here? Here, inside me? I can't say I'm comfortable at all with that thought. However, I don't feel like there's someone inside me or with me. I feel like my thoughts are mine and not someone else's. But definitely something to keep in mind. Not everything is as it seems.
The rest of the day progressed normally - cooking, cleaning, reading the book, and trying to teach myself about places I haven't been to yet - all the chores that keep a place organized and functioning well. And then, tired, I went to bed. Only to be woken by MouseEye with a cryptic message, "Someone needing your help is coming."
It took me a second to react, but I did shake off the cobwebs, got dressed, and just started stoking the fire when a wild-eyed man pounded on my door. As I opened it, he fell forward into my living space, all the while looking over his shoulder, like he was being chased. His hoarse screams, or more like a rough, breathy, very muted pseudo-screams, were just creepy. What had he seen that had induced such fear and panic?
That thought was interrupted by his vomiting onto my floor. Had it been a normal spilling of stomach yuck, that would have been one thing. But when the vomit, instead of simply launching from mouth to floor, formed itself into a little dancing figure that then ran out my door into the night, that was something else. If only it hadn't left little vomit footsteps on my formerly clean floor.
Anyway, out the door the vomit-man went, I stood bemused, and the hoarse man hoarsely screamed again and tried to hide under my bed. Clearly, I needed more light - maybe that'd stop the fear reaction. Maybe?
A few minutes later, the fire was high enough to provide decent light. The intermittent screaming hadn't stopped, nor had the intermittent vomiting. He'd let loose twice more - one had become a small four-legged creature and hid in my cauldron (ewww!) and the other had squeezed under my bed and, I swear this is true, was making faces at the man.
With the light up, I could see the panicked white of his eyes, his vivid green skin, and incredibly white hair. Which didn't make sense - his body hair (eyebrows, arm hair, facial hair shadow) were all black. Something had scared him half-to-death. Which helped explain the screaming.
But green skin? Vomiting magical vomit? Not a fear reaction. That was more like a poisoning.
Dealing with the poisoning was the priority - without prompt treatment, things could become... complicated. Who knows just what it was that someone had brewed, or that he'd eaten, or whatever, and what could result. But there was no doubt, what with the animated vomitus, that he'd been poisoned and it had a magical element.
As another vomit creature ran across the floor, I bent down and tried to let my patient know I was going to gather reagents to deal with the poisoning, and that we'd tackle the fear reaction next. Maybe dealing with the poisoning would deal with the other too? I was hoping.
I gathered up my stuff and headed off. At night. To Hero's Hollow.
Ah man.
Yup - my favourite place in the whole world and I get to go there in the dark.
I tried to be brave. I tried to look up at the stars and I tried to believe they would look out for me. I tried to remember that the spirit of the cottage hadn't steered me wrong yet, even when I was out of line. And I knew MouseEye would be with me and would do what he could to keep me safe.
Despite all my worry, all my alerting to every shriek and call and snap and more - the thousand sounds the wilderness makes at night - I got to the dungeon safely. The hardest part of the night so far, getting to the Hollow, was past. Now to navigate the now hardest part - the dungeon itself. One more round of thoughts towards asking for help and guidance from the cottage, the stars, MouseEye, whomever was bothering to listen, and then I entered.
The good part about going to the Hollow at night is that your eyes don't need to adjust. You go from outdoor dark to indoor dark, which is a different quality of dark, the indoor one being more complete, but dark to dark is fairly easy.
I relaxed and made my way into the dungeon. I knew I had to work quickly so I made my way to where I hoped I could find Coldrust. It's a blue rust that feeds on magical artifacts. I was hoping I could find that type of thing in the armoury spaces. A rusty magical weapon would be perfect for my uses.
As I walked quickly, I started to hear other footsteps. They weren't my steps echoing along corridors. It sounded like a small army. But an army in thick socks. The chest!
I spotted it as it turned a corner and ran towards me. It was a happy run, an eager run, a run that hoped I had a treat in my pocket. Feeling far more confident than I had a right to, I patted my pocket and felt a treat there. Thank you, MouseEye. I didn't say it aloud, but I heard him from close by, "You're welcome."
I gave the treat. It seemed happy. So I took an extra minute to give it some pets and scrunches. I think it purred. So I told it I was here to gather some things and asked if it wanted to help. I think it yapped happily. So we all headed for the armory, where we did indeed find Coldrust. One down!
Next up was Flood Bulb. There are two places where you can generally find it - traps that are based on water, and in canteens - nothing stores water more efficiently. And so despite asking the chest for help and prepared to go wherever it led, I expected we'd go to the kitchens. And we did. It did require some gentle handling - you absolutely don't want a bulb to burst inside your pack!
As we were leaving the kitchens and heading through the cafeteria/mess hall, I spotted another lucky find - Ghost Goo. Apparently a ghost was spending a lot of time in and around where everyone ate. Maybe it was the ghost of one of the only people ever to have lived that liked mass-produced food. A slop-loving memory? Anyway, for whatever reason, a ghost was leaving bits of goo all over the tables. And so I grabbed it gratefully.
We headed back to the dungeon's entrance, the chest padding along with MouseEye and I. One more set of scrunches and I was heading back to the cottage.
Oh, the reek as I approached. I almost wished it smelled like bog goblin again. Vomit people ran out to meet me. Vomit creatures were running amok in the cottage. It was nasty. Pandemonium. Unbearable. "Sir? You have to get your vomit under control! I can't brew in these conditions!"
He pointed out the door, did another hoarse scream, and out they went. I mopped up the necessary equipment and started prepping. I tossed the Coldrust and Flood Bulb into the mortar and started working them. The water that flooded out of the bulb was more than plenty for my potion - the water that flowed onto my floor would help me clean it later.
My patient drank the offered cup. His skin seemed to lighten slightly from a deep green to a more faded one. And, thankfully, he stopped vomiting. As a side note, I think the vomit people found an abandoned gopher tunnel system. I wish them the best.
Anyway... with that crisis dealt with, it was time to deal with the root cause of all this. The potion, thankfully, gave my patient enough voice back that, while difficult to understand, was in the end understandable.
Not that what he told me was at all sensical. While the number of shrieks decreased, and the vomiting stopped, the few words he was able to utter between his screams said only something about a necromancer.
Right. So... someone in the local area is doing magic and working with death? Ok - it's easy to see how seeing something, especially if you're unprepared to see something, could give you a terrible fright.
And the funny (strange, not haha) bit is that the reagents I need to deal with this are in Hero's Hollow (oh yay! Another trip to that warm and fuzzy place) and have to do with necromancy: Vampire Venom and Skeleton Dust.
Or maybe I could simply brew something up involving pine bark and bat guano? Tempting but... no.
As I got ready to head out again, I kept an eye on my patient. Still wild-eyed frightened? Yup. Still intermittently screaming? Yup. But, for now anyway, not giving the appearance of being ready to bolt out the door.
"Sir? It's going to take me a bit of time to address your fright. Please know you are safe here. There's plenty of wood to keep the fire going, keep the cottage warm, and provide lots of light. When I get back, we'll have you feeling calmer, ok?" I got a nod. Good enough. And off I went.
The sun was just rising. The last bits of low-lying mist were just starting to burn off, revealing dew-draped undergrowth. The land looked magical!
I must admit my thoughts drifted to the whole concept of magic. I suppose, for example, the work I do could be seen by some as magic, despite my not adding any sort of supernatural anything to my potions. If reagents carry power, then I'll happily use that power, but as far as waving a magic wand over a bubbling cauldron to create some sort of malevolent miasma that would swallow High Rannoc just wasn't in the cards. Same with a healing vapour that nightly would take away people's hurts, wounds... even nightmares.
Imagine that - a vapour that would help people feel better and healthier. I wondered if something like that could be created. Hmmm... interesting. But feels more like magical meddling than healing people who ask for help with bespoke potions.
Before I knew it, I was back at the Hollows. Now to work through the new challenge of collecting harder reagents. Time to find some vampires. Ugh. Which meant exploring deeper into the dungeon.
I made my way deeper in than I'd gone before. I half-hoped the walking chest would show up - that would have been comforting. Maybe if I asked...?
"MouseEye?"
"Mmhmm."
I tried to keep the quaver from my voice. "You wouldn't happen to know where a vampire is, would you?"
"Mmhmm."
I love it when he's so forthcoming. In a dark, scary, and frankly horrible place. "Are we going the right way?"
"Mmhmm."
Both good and bad news in my book, both involving getting closer and closer to a vampire. I asked MouseEye to keep me on track. And that track felt darker, more musty, and quite dank.
Why can't I spend more time in more pleasant places? Glimmerwood Grove is so lovely. The trees, the wildflowers, the...
"Greetingth Mithtrith."
The voice scared the beejeebers out of me. It was behind me - which in how in the world did anyone get behind me? - but at the same time the voice was quite calm. Almost welcoming. I froze, closed my eyes tightly (somehow that was supposed to bolster my nonexistent courage), and turned around slowly. Standing there was a figure. The lack of light made seeing details, like the person's face, difficult, but the bearing seemed... ok? I think a smile was on their face. And I say "their" because the voice gave nothing away about its sex. All I was getting was polite patient curiosity.
I figured I needed to respond at some point. "Um... hi."
"Greetingth again, Mithtrith. If I may obtherve, you appear leth lotht than unthertin. May I help you in thome way?"
Ummm... sure. Why not. What could go wrong? Even if MouseEye isn't visible, I know he's close. "Yeth... oh, sorry - yes." They didn't react at all to my list slip. "I'm looking for a vampire."
That caused, I think, eyebrows to rise. "It'th not common that thomeone theeks out a vampire. May I enquire your reathonth for doing tho?"
I saw no harm in saying I needed a vampire's venom.
"Ah! Tho you are a witch, then? Exthellent! Follow me, pleathe."
We walked down another corridor - I'm not sure if I would've spotted it on my own - and arrived at a small room. It had a small table with a couple of chairs in it, a candle that provided a bit of light, and an open book lay in front.
"Pleathe excuthe the meth. Marthter and I don't get many vithiterth. Have a theat."
I sat down slowly. Maybe even warily. Marthter?
"I don't mean to be rude, but who is your master?"
The figure came into the candlelight.
Note to self - if my patient saw this person unexpectedly, that could explain their fright. While some features spoke to good-natured friendliness, like the shy smile and gentle eyes, others were less so. The mass of scars and stitching all about their face and head, the third arm sticking out from their chest, and the small knife in that hand. My eyes glued onto it.
He looked down. "Oh! My apologieth! I feel motht comfortable with a thcapel in my hand. Thith one, however, ithn't for thurgery - it'th my dip pen." He set it down on the table then he sat in the other chair. It felt menacing but he seemed to be ignoring it.
"My marthter ith a vampire. He'th currently thleeping. It'th been a buthy night and, of courthe, it'th now day. Tho, what ith it you need venom for?"
I told him - definitely a him - about my patient. The scarred man laughed. I think it was good-natured.
"Thorry, but you mutht thee the humour here. Your pathient came down latht night. He wanted a reanimated thkeleton, for thome reathon. Thcared my marthter motht terribly - he jutht popped out of nowhere, interrupted a delicate piethe of magical work. Which cauthed a rather dramatic meth, I'm telling you. And that thcared all of uth. Marthter had to thcramble to keep the world from imploding, the man fled into my laboratory, and I had to run after him. Marthter, of courths, would want him punithed, tho I got him to drink a pothon that would eventually turn him into a zombie. Temporarily, of courthe. Anyway, marthter called for me, tho I had to leave the man to hith own devitheth. Apparently, he ran to you. And now you wish to cure him."
Gulp. "I hope that's ok with you."
"Oh, thertanly. I bear him no ill will and like I thaid, marthter only wanted him punithed for a little while. Let'th thee... for a fright, you'll altho want thkeleton dutht. Correct?"
I could only nod.
"Wonderful. Let me take you to where you can wait. It'th the library, of thorts. I think you'll find thingth of interetht there."
The library turned out to be quite the space. The room was big and airy, book shelves lined the walls, and a ready supply of candles meant it would be easy to browse the volumes. As I started to look around, the scarred servant asked, "What happened to the old witch? Do you know?"
"No, sorry. I just moved in recently. All there was about her whereabouts was a few lines in a book that she'd written and had open. It said that if I was reading it, she must be either missing or dead."
"Hmmm... pity. Marthter quite liked her. Oh well." And with that, he was off. And I can't say that I paid much attention to his leaving. The books were drawing my attention. The range of topics was so diverse - how to reanimate anything from an ant to a dragon and all manner of creatures in between, getting answers to questions by calling on the spirits of the dead, creating loyal servants through the use of potions, and more.
Creating loyal servants? Using potions? Um... note to self - politely decline any and all offers of beverages.
I don't know how long I'd been in there. I was just transfixed. This place was amazing. So full of secrets, knowledge, ancient wisdom... and then I discovered a letter tucked in an unassuming spot between two large volumes detailing the life and times of assorted necromancers from the distant past. It wasn't sealed or anything, so I opened it. I couldn't help but notice that the handwriting was familiar. Very familiar. It was the same as in my book. The old witch had written it. I sat down and read the whole thing.
The salutation read "My dearest Count". The letter itself was a goodbye. That she was going to be heading for someplace called "The Imperial City" and that that trip was bound to be long, dangerous, but entirely necessary - "...for reasons we've discussed at length and don't bear repeating again." But it was also an invitation - that the Count should go to her before she left in the morning. She promised a delightful night by way of goodbye but that she also understood that accepting that invitation could be too much to ask for. And something about her ambivalence about traveling with Humphrey. I gathered Humphrey was a pet. A pet cow.
Huh. A cow? As a pet? That was weird.
"Ah! I thee you found her letter."
I felt blurry, fuzzy, just deep into all this reading. Unnaturally muddled.
"The old witch would visit the Hollow routinely. Found all thorth of excutheth to thtay. One time to give bootieth to the Mimic, another time to rethycle metal in the old prithon block. Alwayth vithiting, alwayth hoping the marthter would notithe her."
I just nodded while fighting off the cog fog. "And did he notice her?"
The scarred servant looked pained. "Yeth. Thee wath a terrible dithtraction. I feared he'd thtop her from leaving, or worthe, go with her! Tho I hid that letter. He thinkth thee abandoned him. Got him good and angry. Focuthed. And he very nearly completed hith experiment latht night."
I was recovering. "And nearly imploded the world."
He shrugged. "There are rithkth to what he doeth." Then he added, "If it maketh you feel any better, you'd never know that it'd happened. One second ok, the next second gone."
Uh huh. Don't argue with the servant of a necromancer. Get what you came for and get out. "Do you have the reagents you went to get for me?"
"Don't you want to thtay and read some more? The Marthter wath looking forward to talking to you. I'm brewing up a lovely tea."
Politely decline! "Oh! No, thank you. I really need to get back. Um... how long have I been in here?"
"Oh... not long."
"Oh! Well... maybe I could..." Which is when I spotted MouseEye sitting on a shelf behind the scarred servant gesticulating, and loudly gesticulating, if gestures could make noise, that I should leave. "... just take the reagents from you, with gratitude, and then head back."
He paused for a second, then, "The Igor Code requireth that I uphold an untholithited offer. But pleathe promithe that you'll pay uth a vithit thome other day."
I said I would. MouseEye grimaced but that seemed to be the only way to get my reagents and leave without further incident.
As we made our way back, I asked MouseEye about his reaction. "It's ok. You promised to visit both Igor and the vampire. Which means it'll have to be at night. When the Count's awake. But we can prepare adequately and keep you safe."
"But I thought it'd be ok. The old witch..."
"The old witch may or may not have been... manipulated. but the fact that she left of her own accord means she either wasn't magicked, or she figured out a way out of it. Anyway, it'll be fine." The comforting part of his message was dispelled with his mumbled, "I hope."
Great. Well, time later to worry about that. I had a panicked patient, probably impatient, waiting.
To his credit, he was still waiting at the cottage. White knuckles gripped the table, feet tapped, knees bounced, white hair practically frizzled with electricity. If I didn't know better, it looked like he'd eaten a lot of laxative and was about to lose his battle with the call of nature. Actually... I didn't know better. So, I hoped I wouldn't be cleaning up more than sticky vomit prints.
It took no time at all to crush the skeleton bone into dust and sprinkle it onto the venom in the bottom of a cup. He drank it down willingly. Within a couple of minutes, the knuckles turned a calmer pink, the feet and knees stopped their incessant movement, his eyes lost their wildness, and his head began to slump onto his chest. And seconds later, he was snoring in my bed. *sigh* At least someone gets to grab some rest. I stepped outside and began my morning routine.
To be frank, I wasn't happy my bed was being used by anyone other than me. Never mind that others may have dozed on it while I was working, and that the old witch most certainly used it prior to my moving in, but still! And yet, to be fair, with what he'd been through, no doubt he was tired.
And then I realized he'll probably be ravenous when he wakes. So... time to prepare food for two. Which also means he spends more time here.
As I got back to work, I thought about my thoughts about this prolonged visit. And how much I didn't like it. The intrusion into my life here was something I simply disliked. But I'd manage today. Be polite, be professional, be sympathetic, be gently insistent that he leave.
I didn't get my chance to be all that for several hours. But he did finally emerge, looking much calmer and relaxed. And as predicted, he was hungry.
I thought it'd be a great opportunity to hear his story. Or at least the reasons behind his story. After all, I already knew where he'd been when things went bad. I wanted to know the why.
It took nothing to get him talking. I started to pry and he just opened up. "I don't believe I properly introduced myself last night. Cornelius McTwitter, physician to the town of High Rannoc. Pleased to make your acquaintance. My apologies for the state I was in last night. Completely unprofessional on my part. And to think it was all from my attempt to purchase a skeleton. Reanimated skeleton. No better kind to have in a medical office. I can have it point out to my patients the parts of the body affected when dealing with medical issues. By the way, I noticed you seem to be lacking a reanimated skeleton."
I agreed that I didn't possess one.
He nodded in acknowledgement. "In fact, I don't see that you have much of an establishment at all. No books, no laboratory equipment. How do you properly examine someone's urine without a laboratory?"
"I don't see the need. For instance, I cured you of your afflictions and didn't need to use any equipment."
"And you have no leeches. How can you balance humours without bleeding a patient?"
I just smiled and said, "Again, I cured you without them."
He looked indignant. "But certainly you just got lucky! Or I was already on the mend!"
I was getting testy. "You were on your way to becoming a zombie because you interrupted a necromancer in the middle of a magical spell and his Igor handed you a potion that was a poison that you drank."
"Now really! That's too much. I mean, yes, I did go to see the gentleman and he did look busy, but how else do you arrange to purchase a reanimated skeleton. It's not like he consigns them through Bits & Bobs."
"That gentleman is a vampire."
"Oh, pish! Nonsense! Vampire, indeed!"
"That was vampire venom you just drank."
He scoffed. "Probably something completely innocuous, like a wildflower root. Witches have all sorts of scary-sounding names for not-scary things."
Right. I was done. "Well, I'm glad to see you have an appetite again. So if you don't mind, I do have things I need to tend to, like cleaning up little vomit-people footprints. And I'm sure your clinic needs its doctor back."
"Oh! Yes! Didn't realize it was getting on in the day. What do I owe you?"
Since these were more serious conditions, I increased my price. Thirty silver for each cure, sixty total. The lunch I threw in for free. The hours of scrubbing my cottage clean of the ravages of last night's chaos would help me release my rage at his ignorance.
He didn't blink as he laid the money on the table. "Right! A very good day to you." And with that, he left. And I breathed a sigh of relief.
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