Chương 565: Hair of the Bear that Bit You

Ozzy was sitting with his back to a shattered wagon, thinking that the after-effects of the battle wouldn't be going away anytime soon. Suzette had healed the worst of his wounds, stopping the bleeding and restoring some of his health, but the slashes he'd taken ached and itched, and some had begun to bleed again. He missed Ben. The Courier seemed to be able to heal the worst wound without effort, and there was something in his magic that erased disease or infection.

He was thought of quite highly by the common soldiers he encountered, and given how much he roamed and got into trouble, that was a lot of people. The soldiers here could use some of that magic. Titania was brewing up healing potions, and Suzette was exhausting herself caring for them. The roars from the Great Bear had shattered eardrums and caused deep wounds. Most could barely move, and didn't want to. The encounter with something so far above them had been traumatizing.

And they didn't have the ability to shrug things off the way Contract Workers could. Even Titania was feeling something. Ozzy had seen her staring off into space twice as she dealt with some inner demon. Things would have been much worse if not for Ernest and Bertrand. Their sunny smiles were contagious as they went from soldier to soldier, wrapping them in blankets or getting them a cup of hot soup.

They seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of jokes and funny stories that could take a man's mind off the horror they'd just been exposed to. Ozzy watched them making their rounds, and then it was his turn.

"Hiya guys. If you don't mind, I'm going to just sit here and be quiet." Bertrand nodded, "Being quiet is a great skill. I've tried to teach it to Earnest, but he's a terrible student." Ernest grinned a little, "Hey, it's tough to be quiet. And scary. What if people thought I was a mime?"

"Wouldn't be all bad, those guys have great spells. Imagine if we'd had an invisible box to put the bear in?"

"Oooh! That's true. Maybe when this Contract Worker gig is up, we can be mimes. Oh, I seem to have an extra stick of honey-raspberry candy in my pocket. I bet Butchers love candy."

"Was that really an extra, good buddy Ernest? I seem to be missing the stick I bought from the Kalvek Emporium."

"Strange, but that's how the world works, good buddy Bertrand. Something goes away, but miraculously appears elsewhere. Either way, I think we need to put a smile on this guy's face." Ozzy took the stick of candy, putting it into his mouth like a cigar. The flavor was perfect, and for a moment, nothing ached as the sugar rushed to his brain.

"To hell with miming, you guys should be trauma counselors." They looked at each other, smiles gone, then back at the Butcher, their faces lighting up but not quite all the way.

"Been there."

"Done that."

"We worked with kids in the habitat in Sarajevo. Lots of orphans from the Seventh Corporate War."

"It was a convenient spot to put them all, but not enough of us to help."

"We did our best. Working all day, then sleeping in our pods and taking classes all night, or doing our paperwork."

"It went on for a couple of decades, and always another batch of kids needing help. We kept working until we couldn't. It hurt to get in the pods, and it hurt to stay out of them." Ozzy looked from one to the other. His life in the habitat had been crap, but he'd had fun online and worked every angle to make money. These guys had just worked until they collapsed.

"Damn. Thought I had it rough."

"You probably did. One person's troubles don't diminish another's. We have to remember that the other guy is hurting as well, and help him out. One person laughing can make other people happy. We try to get people to laugh and be friends. Helps us too."

"And think of all the stories we can tell when we get back, someday, when this is over."

"You're going back to Sarajevo when your 5 years is up?" Ozzy hadn't spent much time thinking about that, with possibly decades still to spend in the game.

"Yep. We'll be healed and have money, and there will be people who need help back in our old habitat. There are always kids who need help."

"And we'll be there. But for now... I see some soldiers waking up, and I may have a few more lollipops in my pocket." They walked away, humming some song that got stuck in Ozzy's head. They'd done a good job of taking his mind off his aches and pains. So good, in fact, that he went to stand up and immediately found out that it was a bad thing. Titania heard his loud groan and came over.

"Damn. You've got some bad shit in those wounds. That was one angry and hateful bear. Some of the anger and hate is left in the wounds. We need to do something about that."

"Oh, what could happen?" Titania beamed, "So many fun things. It's almost a shame to get rid of it. You might turn into a lycanthrope, or just gain the Berserker class. Maybe even both! Bearserkers are awesome monsters, but you might be a little too smart for that. Never pair physical power, anger, and intelligence together unless you want a real monster. Huh, come to think of it, that might be how we got Butchers in the first place. Let's see....

that means you'd either become a Wendigo, or a Grendel, depending on how cooked you like your human flesh." Ozzy crunched off the end of his candy stick, cursed, and tried to nurse the other half.

"I think I'd rather not go there. How do we clean up my wounds?" The old witch thought for a moment.

"I need to make soup. Just take a day to get some veggies and soup makings, then simmer it all down and add the special ingredients. Good soup takes time."

"And I've got the time?"

"Well, no. Hard to say. But if you start thinking about killing and eating all of us, let me know." The Butcher reached for the small pot hanging from his belt and tossed it in the air. It grew larger and did a perfect three-point landing, not spilling a drop. Ozzy yelled, "Make soup, and let the witch add stuff to it." Then he dumped a barrel from his bag and tore off the lid. The tripe pot scuttled forward, and the Butcher dumped an assortment of stomachs, livers, kidneys, and bits of meat into it.

The pot ran on its stubby legs to the fire, bumped the other kettle to the side, and began to bubble as it made tripe soup. Titania stared at it, jealousy turning her eyes green.

"You've got a semi-sentient, ambulatory cauldron that makes soup?" Ozzy winked at her, "Yep, didn't you hear? Butcher's get all the cool toys." She eyed his bag and various other magical items. She couldn't quite get full descriptions of them, even with her Evil Eye, but it was enough to make her agree with his statement. And she wondered why she'd barely noticed them before.

"So it seems. Makes me half want to take a night class in that skill. It does look fun. I thought the mad boys I'm hanging out with kept late hours, but you people are down in the stockyards every night having a party." This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"Sure, come on down. Chop up some critters, drink a little wine, and it's a party until dawn." She shook her head and patted the jagged axe on her belt.

"Tempted, but no, not while I'm bound to this vicious thing. It likes blood. Giving in to it might turn me into a monster again, and I'd have to leave town. It keeps me awake too many nights as is, moaning and putting thoughts in my head."

"Well, and this is just a thought here, but maybe you need to wear it out, then? Sounds like a rambunctious kid or a dog that doesn't get enough playtime. Eight to ten hours of chopping up meat might just wear it out. One thing about Butchers, we get used to the blood and guts. Just means we need a bath. Could be that after it has to chop up carnivorous rabbits and slice Ostrich livers for a few days, it might get bored and settle down. Plus, the two of you are sloppy."

"Sloppy!?"

"Yeah, sloppy. You're doing a lot of damage with the screaming axe, but your hits are sloppy. Butchers cut meat with efficiency and precision. We do more damage because we know where to hit, and where a critter has its weak spots and vital organs. You and that chopper could pick up some special skills while you have fun dismembering some strange animals. Plus, wouldn't that help you with harvesting ingredients? How often do you fail when harvesting Eye of Newt or Tail of Dog?

"Too often, even with a good kitchen knife. Fine, when we get back, I'll give it a whirl. Meantime, I need to soak some poultices to draw out that taint in your wounds." She left the Butcher where he sat, and found his tripe pot. The soup was already done and was being passed out by Bertrand and Ernest. Men gripped their mugs hard, shaking, with wild eyes as they sipped the hot, tripe soup.

Titania watched them as she gathered up the shed fur of the bear and wrapped it in bandages with wyrmwart, outofthyme, and goonberry extract. The poultices went into the soup for a two-minute soak while she chanted. She was soon back at the Butcher, applying the poultices to his wounds.

"Here you go, Hair of the Bear that Bit You. Classic curse removal. It applies the synergy of your victory over the creature to universal healing principles, one of the most basic being hot soup. How's that feeling?" Ozzy felt the pain fading, "A hell of a lot better. Thanks a ton. Anything we can do for those soldiers? They look shellshocked, and a few haven't said a word." The Witch had seen the same.

"That spirit was angry, and at least Tier Six, a minor deity. I was barely able to capture it, and that was with perfect timing as it died, and a lifetime spent studying spirits and curses. Very powerful, and not something those boys should have been exposed to. But... I've got an idea... a little crazy, but it uses the same principles as I used to cure you." Ozzy realized she was asking for permission, "Well, let me ask a question. Are you doing this to help those boys? Or to show that you're a good witch now?

Or just to have some fun experimenting?" She grimaced, "Ok, I'll admit that it's a little of all three. But I think it will work."

"Go for it. We have to take some chances now and then. But make sure you explain it to them before you cast a spell. It's their choice, that's part of this whole good vs evil thing, far as I'm concerned." Titania walked away, a little troubled, then began running. She grabbed Suzette and talked to her, quickly explaining her idea. Suzette looked over at Ozzy, who gave a thumbs-up. The two added more of the fur to the pot, and both chanted as Titania stirred.

Not ones to miss out on a group singing even, Bertrand and Ernest joined in. When the chant would have ended, the two workers continued singing, going through a repertoire of uplifting jingles about sunny days, friends, and magic carpet rides. They kept singing until Titania declared the soup was done. Not a trace of the fur was left, and the tripe pot held only clear soup. Titania took a deep breath.

"I know some of you aren't feeling too good right now. I've got something that will make that feeling go away, but it's magic, and I'm not totally sure of what it will give you. So I'll take volunteers first." The young leader of the group struggled to his feet. He wasn't as bad off as the others. His memory of hitting the monster with a shot from an onager gave him something to counteract the fear.

"I'll go first." Titania handed him a cup of soup, and he drank it down fast, then handed the cup back to her. Then they waited.

"Feel any different?"

"Oh, lots. We kicked its ass. But my chin is itching fiercely. Suzette and Titania could see why. His face was sprouting hair, and within a minute, he had a full, bushy beard that hung six inches below his chin. Then the rapid growth stopped. [Success! Titania, Good Witch of the Circle of Sedgewick (And no relation to that person you see on all those wanted posters), has created a new potion: Bear Bite Remedy. She scores a reward of 10 Enhancement points! This potion, which must be drunk within a day after defeating a major spirit, erases the trauma of the fight, replacing it with confidence and a portion of the creature's power. As long as the enchanted beard granted by the potion is not shaved, the beard grants +10 mitigation, +5 strength, and the effect of a Courage spell cast by a level 30 Priest.] The soldier stroked his beard, "I'm fond of it already. But a little worried an officer might make me shave it off."

Ozzy laughed, "You tell him to go to hell if he does, and I'll have a talk with the Duchess." At that statement, every man in the unit lined up for a share of the soup, with Bertrand and Ernest helping the worst off. When that was done, the dark clouds seemed to lift, and the soldiers went about their work, salvaging what they could of the camp, while complimenting each other's beards.

As the last man's beard was fully grown, another announcement came from the system: [The Great Spirit of the Cave Bear has been thoroughly vanquished, along with the Clan of the Cave Bear. All who took part in the fight gain 25 enhancement points and 2500 boss experience.] Ozzy asked Titania, "So, how does that feel?"

"Damned good. I was worried for a bit. Does feel nice to be helping a bit, for a change. Although I'll admit, the thirty-five enhancement points I just scored for creating that potion and fighting that spirit make me a bit biased." Ozzy winked at her, "Take the win, take the prizes. We earned them. Nothing says we can't be happy for multiple reasons." As they were talking, another caravan came over a low hill, moving fast with Rolly leading them. He was bloodied and limping.

Behind him came several wagonloads of injured soldiers. On the sides of two wagons, Snarlfang pelts were staked out to cure. Ozzy got to work, making another pot of tripe soup. Whatever Rolly had been up to, he'd be hungry.