Quoted By:
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">Heal 5 vs DC 25. Fail to identify the girl's condition.</span></span>
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">Initiative 18 vs DC 11</span></span>
Black ichor continues to seep from the wound beneath her navel. Taking clean bandages from Boric, you wrap the wound and hide the accursed brand. That no hellish light peaks from the mark of the Dark One's Eye is no reason to leave it bare to the world. The Light's providence has led her from the brink of death. Now, she needs better medicine than you can provide if she wishes to live the rest of her life free from the Dark One's taint.
From the way she gouged the unholy symbol from her flesh, you suspect she does.
Unfortunately, that black ichor is not born of her body's rejection of the foul brand.
It comes from the mark itself. Four interlocking circles, overlapping to form a likeness of the Dark One's eye, the outer rings wrapped in spiked chains that almost form a pair of wings. You expect to find such a mark upon every cultist, every victim of the cult, steeping their blood with tainted ichor until it drives them mad.
You know not how much of it now oozes from the wound, and how much circulates through her veins. Less than you feared more than you would hope, from how the veins around the brand have begun to darken and turn black.
Once the bandages are wrapped and tight, you cover the girl with the blanket and pick her off the ground.
"Trev!" You call for your squire. He swiftly attends you, the reins to your mare in hand and the white horse shortly behind him. "I am tasking you to ensure this girl is brought safely to the pagans' shrine upon the mountain. We have not time to bring her to the Hospitaliers, so I pray that their Rite of Cleansing is sufficient to clean her of the taint."
Trevor nods. He mounts the saddle your horse somewhat awkwardly, for Dawn is near as large as a stallion. As you hand him the swaddled girl, he hesitates to ask, "What if their rites are not enough to cure her?"
"A knight must make his own decisions, Trev," you say with a clap to his shoulder. Uncertainty fills his eyes, something a knight needs not show so openly. If he wishes to kneel before the king and receive honors, well... "I trust you will remember the seven virtues, and act accordingly. Now, Boric! Lend Leana your horse. Two riders are better than one on these roads, but I cannot spare both you <span class="mu-i">and</span> Trevor."
"Of course, Dame Louise." Boric dismounts and passes the reins of his mount to Leana.
One of the younger men at arms and a skilled spellslinger, she is a mousy young woman with brown hair a few shades lighter than Trevor's. As she scurries into the saddle of Boric's horse, you approach them both. Boric leans into you, whispering, "That's a heavy burden that you've just put on Trev's shoulders, if I may be frank."
"Aye, but it's one he's ready for," you whisper back to him. "Plus, I'm not above sending a bit of insurance with him."
