The Sorceress, the Ranger, and Potions Anonymus

[hamnat]

As Shenjara had been considering this weakness she'd just discovered, she had been losing ground to her opponent. Arajnehs had almost fully recovered by now and had a horrible smile on her face. "Not so cocky now, are you Mizz Flame-tire?" she mocked. Shenjara tripped on a pile of burning wood and landed on her back. She screamed in agony; her leg was still on the pile of burning wood. Moving it quickly, she got it out of the smoldering timber and blocked another strike from Arajnehs. The blue-haired assailant was striking at her over and over again. It was all Shenjara could do to block her attacks.

Shenjara felt a sudden burst of energy and roared. A fireball appeared in her hand and she thrust it into Arajnehs' face. The woman screamed as her face was charred. Her once beautiful features were blackened and reddened by the burns covering her face. Damn it...nothing permanent. Those burns will heal. But, on the bright side, I seem to have gotten my energy back. Shenjara smiled a wide, scary grin. Arajnehs was scared, that was for sure.

"You bitch! You think you'll beat me like that!?" she shrieked, "Well guess what!? I can do it too, see!?" A fireball burst forth from her hand. Shenjara was shocked. It looked just like hers only it was a blood red color. With a maniacal laugh, she sent it flying towards Shenjara. It shot towards her and she barely dodged it as it flew past her. She had to lose her balance in order to dodge it, but at least it missed.

The crazy woman was still laughing as she conjured another fireball and hurled it at Shenjara. There was no way to dodge this time, so she put her hands in front of her face to protect it. The fireball slammed into her stomach. Everything went silent. Her vision blurred, and she heard and felt nothing but the horrible agony of her stomach. She would have heard a blood-curdling scream if she could hear, but the pain was so great, it had shut out everything else but her vision. So this is what it feels like to be hit by my fireball...how terrible...

[Kishurin]

A blast of cool air hit Kishurin as he emerged from the cave, the elf-girl, half-elf, on his back not moving except for her quick and shallow breathing. The landscape was dark; they'd been in the lit cave until well past nightfall, and there was no moon that night. The wind blew through the tall grass, whispering the secrets of long-dead men and women. Kishurin's eyes didn't take long to adjust to the darkness. He couldn't see well, but he wouldn't be tripping over big rocks or logs.

He walked away from the mouth of the cavern for a solid 15 minutes before finally resting. His back hurt from the weight, which he wasn't used to carrying. He grabbed his waterskin and took a few gulps before putting it back at his side. He let himself catch his breath before asking Mac, "You wanna take a turn with her? I can't carry her much longer. She's not very heavy, but I'm just not used to carrying a person."

He looked around and searched for anything that would give him an idea of which way they should go. After a couple of minutes of squinting and searching, he spotted the silhouette of a small house. "Hey, Mac, look over there. There's a house or something like that over that way. Maybe they can help us," Kishurin said, pointing to where the house was. If were at all lucky, someone will be there who can tend to our wounds.

[Axeheart]

Mac felt refreshed as the cool breeze passed over his neck and arms. His arm hurt badly still, but it wasn't horrible like before. The cool night air soothed his entire body. I's so much nicer than tha' cave. He looked up at the night sky, reveling in the beauty of the stars overhead; it was a cloudless night and the stars could be seen dotting the sky. The grass waved in the breeze, pushed sideways from the wind.

When Kishurin asked Mac about carrying the elf-girl, Mac laughed, "Yer finally gettin' tired, eh? Well, I can try. But ah'm nah promisin' nothin'." He walked over and knelt by the unconscious elf-girl. She was heating back up, but it wasn't anything to cause great worry about. Her lips were slightly parted in a pained frown. She was fighting for sure. What she was fighting, specifically, Mac had no clue.

Kishurin pointed out a nearby shack and Mac looked over to see what he was so excited about. Where he was pointing, Mac saw a small house, large enough for a small family. A light was shining from inside, which surprised Mac because that should have made the house more obvious. "Let's ge' th' girl over there, Kishurin. Maybe a healer lives there. Maybe they can mend me an' you up while they're at it." He picked the girl up and held her on his back, piggy-back style. It made his already sore arm burn, but he could handle it for the time.

[hamnat]

Everything came back to her suddenly. She heard herself screaming and cursing from the pain. "You bitch! I'll kill you for that! I swear I'll kill you for that! You're going to die, bitch!" She didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered except that this bitch in front of her died in horrible agony. Another blood red fireball appeared. As it flew towards Shenjara, carrying certain death with it, Shenjara shot off a fireball of her own.

"Caranuscai arelanta!!"

Her fireball shot off and each slammed into the other. They disappeared without a trace, surprising both women. This must have been what my instructor told me about counter-spells. When two identical spells hit each other, they cancel out, and each is negated. But it doesn't matter. She seems to be very similar to me...a doppelganger, maybe? If so, then she doesn't have much energy left for her little fireball.

"Caranuscai arelanta!!"

Shenjara sent another Torch flying. Arajnehs' face changed to that of horror as she realized she couldn't call up anymore fireballs. She'd run out of energy. She screamed as the fireball shot towards her and knocked her to the dirt with its impact. She didn't scream or convulse; she just lay there, breathing heavily. "Damn you..." she said with a cough, "damn you." Arajnehs got up slowly, coughing as she did. "You want to know what I am, Miss Flame-tire? Then I'll tell you." Her face was shot with rage as she roared, "I....AM....YOU!!!"

[Kishurin]

Kishurin and Mac trekked over to the shack and Kishurin knocked gently on the door. He turned to Mac and said softly, "I hope they're friendly to strangers..." About a minute later, which was silent except for a few grunts from Mac, they heard someone coming to the door. Light poured out into the darkness, and Kishurin was blinded for a second before he looked and saw an old man with a staff. The old man was dressed in a long white robe which looked like it was made to sleep in. He was holding a candle and was bald and wrinkly, but he looked quite lively. His deep brown eyes were full of contentment, concern, and compassion, the three C's Kishurin recognized behind the eyes of a good person willing to do a stranger a favor.

"Is there some way I might help you three?" The old man said in a surprisingly young voice. Kishurin calmly replied, "We have been in a fight with a gang of bandits and need attending too. Our friend here," he showed the man the face of the elf on Mac's back, "is in bad need of medicine. She's got a very high fever and we need a healer right away. Is there anyone nearby who can help us?" The old man smiled and said merrily, "Well, you young people are in luck. It just so happens that my wife and I are accomplished healers. Come inside and my wife will attend to your wounds."

The old man politely opened the door wide enough for the three to enter and Kishurin left his bow and knife outside next to the door. He smiled at the old man, "To show good faith, friend." The old man replied, "There was never a need. Just lay the elf-lady on the bed there and I will see that she is properly taken care of." Kishurin was happy to see that there were people in the world with compassion enough to take in and help complete strangers. Many of the humans he'd met were quite selfish. It was refreshing, and he knew he would sleep comfortably that night; the house was larger than he'd thought and there were several beds that looked ready for the odd guest or four.

[Axeheart]

Mac followed Kishurin's lead, just quietly standing there, holding this girl while his arm aches and bleeds. Don't ge' mad aboot i'...Yer strong enough t' handle i' anyways, so why nah? Besides, he's probably a better talker than ye are, so i' all works ou' great. Mac flinched when the door opened, but he got used to the light quickly, so he was able to pay attention to Kishurin talking to the kind old man. When Kishurin dropped his weapons by the side of the door, Mac decided he would leave his weapons there too. Carefully, he pulled his axe off of his back and dropped it with a loud clang on Kishurin's knives. He was able to take the sword out more easily and with another clang, he dropped it on top of the rest.

He followed Kishurin inside, carefully turning so the elf-girl wouldn't have a concussion when she awoke. At the old man's prompting, he chose the closest bed and carefully laid the girl down on it. She was beautiful, but he could tell she was often angry. Her face was set in a scowl as she lay still on the bed, taking shallow breaths. Th' poor lass...Ah wonder wha's goin' on inside tha' head o' hers... He winced and grabbed his arm as a sudden pulse of pain shot up his arm. It was bleeding slowly, but it was very painful. He saw an old woman with a cheery disposition and surprisingly long hair coming towards him and motioning him to sit on a nearby bed. She had bandages, herbs, and a needle and thread in her arms.

Oh no...nah a needle...I hate needles!! Those thin's really hurt! I hope she doesn't have to use 'em... He obediently sat where she'd indicated and waited patiently while she set herself up to work. She was pretty for an old woman. He was surprised at how young and full of life they seemed. They must be very happy...

[hamnat]

Shenjara stood up, looking at Arajnehs with a blank face. She started to snicker, then laughed loudly. After a few seconds of hearty laughing, she said between breaths, “You really think you’re me, huh? You’re definitely a doppelganger then. I’ll just have to destroy you quickly. Just hold still so we can end this.”

Arajnehs clutched her stomach as she roared, “NO! I’m NO doppelganger. I am YOU! I am the chaos that runs rampant through your thoughts, the fury behind the power of your little Torch, the anger that drives you to destroy your enemies. And you know what?”

“What?” Shenjara briefly replied, a note of annoyance in her voice.

Arajnehs laughed sinisterly. “I’m stronger than you.” She put her hand up, pointing a finger at Shenjara. Shenjara suddenly felt stuck, as though time and space had frozen her in place and she could only stand there. Everything began to heat up, and the area around her was quickly hot enough to boil water. But it kept going, and the heat moved up into a cloud of red energy above her head. It grew and grew until it began to destabilize and shake violently.

Shenjara suddenly felt free, as though a heavy weight that she’d been carrying had suddenly been taken off of her shoulders and everything was as light as a feather. With this newfound strength, she bounded away from the cloud. Just as her feet left the ground, a column of light came down from the sky and struck the cloud. A pillar of fire incinerated everything underneath. Shenjara had just made it out from underneath the cloud, but a shockwave issued from the force of the spell and knocked her several yards away. She hit the dirt and bounced, rolling across the ground like a ball of tumbleweed. When she finally stopped rolling, she laid still.

[Kishurin]

Kishurin sat down on a bed and watched as the old lady cheerfully tended Mac's wound. It was pretty nasty, but her quick fingers and obvious experience knitted the skin together well enough that the wound would heal without lasting damage. She had applied a few strongly smelling herbs to it that made Mac jump and Kishurin chuckled every time he nearly hit the roof.

He looked over at Shenjara and watched as the old man dabbed at her forehead with a damp cloth, soaking it every now and then in an herbal bath. The redness in her skin had subsided, but it was clear that she was still suffering. She took a sudden breath as though she'd been stabbed and let it out slowly like one who is letting go of their last breath. Kishurin jumped up and ran over to the old man, "What's wrong? Is she dying? What's going on?" The old man looked up at Kishurin calmly and said, "It would appear that she's died. She's stopped breathing, her heart's stopped beating, but all other signs of life are still going. I don't think she's dying, but she's just suffered from massive mental trauma of some kind. It's almost as if she's been seriously wounded inside of her mind."

Kishurin looked bewildered. "How are you able to tell all this?" The old man smiled and said, "I don't, really. But it all makes sense. And after all, the rest of her body is still going. Look, see, she's recovering," he said as she started breathing slow, short breaths. That was really close...who are you fighting, Shenjara? He went back to the bed he'd been sitting on and suddenly remembered the blows he'd taken to his arm and side, wincing in pain.

The woman rushed over and looked at his arm, then lifted his shirt and vest and looked at his ribs. "You've probably got a cracked rib, but nothing serious. It will hurt like the dickens for a couple days, and strenuous activity will be hard over the next couple weeks, but you'll make a full recovery." She dabbed at his ribs carefully with a cool cloth that obviously had a special herbal blend soaked into it. "I'll give you a mixture to apply here for a few days. It will help the pain and speed up your recovery." She was definitely very experienced, he decided as he sat still on the yellow bedspread.

[hamnat]

She saw curtains. Black curtains flowing in a light breeze against an even darker background. She was in a room with one window and one door. There was a bed, a table, and a dresser. The full moon shone brilliantly through the window, tinting the black curtains gray. She could hear nothing other than a slight whispering, as though she were walking down a street and everyone was gossiping about her.

She looked down at herself and she was dressed in a long black gown, beautiful but saddening at the same time. "Am I dead?" she heard herself say, the words echoing several times before the silence was solid again. She looked out of the window and saw that she was in a large complex of buildings with dark gray walls and roofs. She figured she was on the tenth level of the building she was in and was not alone. She saw no lights in any of the windows. She walked over to the door and found it locked. She looked through the keyhole to see a dark hallway.

She was in a world of darkness. It was quiet, it was lonely, but it was peaceful. "This must be the world of the dead. Everything is dark and dreary and the moon seems to be the lord of this realm. I am dead..." She sat on the bed and thought about her life and how sad it had really been. She was glad to be dead, the threat of herself removed from the world. She would never endanger anyone again. She closed her eyes and felt at peace....

[Axeheart]

Mac's wound healed quickly. They decided to hang around and see how the girl turned out and let the healers tend to their wounds. Whenever they asked to pay the old healers, they denied them, saying, "The damage you did to that band of thieves was payment enough. They've been plaguing us and everyone around for 10 miles for months. Hopefully, it's enough to disband them." They always seemed to be smiling, as though life never betrayed them.

He and Kishurin spent their time getting to know each other. Kishurin told of his race So tha's wha's with his funny looks... and Mac told of his. They both listened intently to each other. After several days, the healers deemed them recovered enough for rigorous activity. So, of course, they took their conversations outdoors and conversed with blades. Kishurin was having a hard time blocking Mac's large weapons with his small knives, but he managed it, surprisingly. Kishurin set up a target for archery practice shot arrow after arrow at the target, which was mounted about four feet off the ground on an elm tree. His aim was pretty poor, but it got better quickly.

It took about fifteen days for the girl to awaken. She'd used up so much energy before and after falling unconscious that she'd needed a full recovery before she could wake up again. The whole time she slept, she was very peaceful. A strange presence surrounded the area around her, as though something was watching over her and protecting her. The presence soothed everyone who entered it, and when a man brought his friend, who'd gone quite mad, they sat him by her bedside for an hour. He simply watched her sleeping figure and came back perfectly normal. "It was as though an angel had come to me and made everything feel alright again."

They were all rather astonished by the tale, but they figured it was whatever watched over the girl. Since the presence had appeared two days after she gone into a coma, they were pretty sure it wasn't her that gave off that feeling. That and the fact that she was quite vicious and angry. What ever could drive such a girl to be that way... Mac sat and watched her every night before he went to bed. He probably had better dreams than he'd ever had before afterwards. It was a good time for them all.