Sune's Solution (D&D/MGE)
- Thread starter Erien
- Start date
- Mature Fantasy
- Location
- Ohio
I am only a little disappointed that Ilias's solution wasn't teleporting Baerun back into the room he just left.
Hopefully, no one else in the temple has Sense Good and Evil.
Ilias wasn't injured so much as getting a headache from the sudden movement. Baerun's mansion has that good shit!
Ilias hasn't done much else but drink until now... She must reek even without the stench of Evil!
I am looking forward to Ilias grumbling about how she can clean herself.
Hopefully, no one else in the temple has Sense Good and Evil.
It's more like Baerun thought he wasn't allowed or didn't deserve to confide in others
"I sense a disturbance in the force."
-Baerun's mom, probably
The Great Hero
New
Erien
God's Weakest Soldier
- Location
- Georgia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
View: https://youtu.be/vaUEifEuWek
Thanks to @SpacePaladin for the comm, who wanted a poor unfortunate Aasimar.
—
There are many races of people within Faerun, even more within the wider world. To say nothing of its 'sister'. Yet, amongst these, one of the most unusual is the Aasimar, the planetouched, the descendants of celestials. The angels in human form. That, of course, did not mean they were always angelic, but they tended to be on the side of good more often than not. They stood out, glowing eyes, more often than not perfect features that hardly aged. Our protagonist, Wakrun, was one such person. An Aasimar tied more into his ancestry than most, he had been blessed with a Celestial Guide from a young age. An angel, helping him become a mighty warrior and stay true to his path.
At least, that is what it appeared to be, yet appearances could be… deceiving.
—
Wakrun was rubbing his head, idly wondering what the best way out of this situation was. Things had… been hectic lately, and while he was no man of the gods he had his fair share of experiences. Something had… definitely changed lately, the monsters were fiercer and more alien, and more and more strange people had been coming about, and, unfortunately. Many of those strange people had been particularly interested in him.
"Come oooooon, brave hero." The Houri purred. "Let me take care of you~"
The Houri, servants of the goddess of love. They seek out the most virtuous of men, and those blessed to be heroes, and seek to become their wives. Or fuck puppets, or both, really.
Wakrun had to admit she was beautiful, with deeply tanned skin, purple hair, and a body that was a fair bit more sinful than her voice should rightly allow. But he was also doing his best not to stare, and ignore everyone else in the town staring at him. The Houri had been one of many odd women following him around lately calling him 'Brave Hero' and 'Noble Savior' and 'Hero-Boy' and 'Delicious'. He wasn't sure which he found more concerning. But this woman was, by far, the most tenacious.
He walked along, doing his breast to ignore the bests held against his ar-. The breasts held against his arm. "Miss, while I consider myself gallant I am not a Hero."
"Oh but you are, only heroes have glowing eyes of gold and smell so tasty." The Houri purred.
"That's enough Celestiatrix." A gentle, feminine voice spoke up.
Wakrun halted in his walking, his heart skipping a beat as his guide made her presence known. Usually, well, truly, until this moment only active in his dreams. She appeared before him, beautiful as she always was. She was half his height, with a white dress that fluttered and shifted to catch all of the sun's rays. Her blonde hair glinted in the light, nearly as much as the halo floating above her head. She looked to Wakrum for a moment, then stared at the newly named 'Celestiatrix.' "No touchy, he's not that kind of hero."
Celestiatrix blinked, staring at the newcomer, so did everyone else in the village, for that matter. "Valerie? Wait, Valerie? You finally got a man?" she asked in disbelief. The Houri jerked her head back and forth, staring between the angel and the man.
The angel flushed. "No he… isn't… I mean. No, he isn't." She closed her eyes, composing herself. "He's my darling little hero in training, and I am his kind mother."
"What is… what is going o-" Wakrun started to ask, but didn't get a change to finish.
"Ooooh, well you're doing a good job," Celestiatrix said with a lecherous grin. "He looks amazing."
Valerie smiled. "Thank you, I was hoping to see more of my kin. There was a Hellhound humping his leg last week."
The Houri scoffed. "Oh, them. Blech. They don't deserve a nice hero boy."
"Excuse m-" Wakrun tried again.
"But in any case," Celestiatrix continued. "Look at you, becoming a mother. Never knew you had it in you!"
Valerie beamed, but looked a touch embarrassed all the same. "Well, we aren't blood related, but he was such a cute little boy that I couldn't help but guide him when I first popped in all those years ago."
Wakrun's head snaps around. "Years? Wait, did you start showing up with the-"
"Oh I can see why, his blonde hair is just perfect. Tell me boy. Would you be interested in a ménage-à-soixante-treize with my friends? They'd just love to meet you~"
"He hasn't ripened quite yet, he still has some more heroics to perform. It's why I've been guided him away from all those nasty influences. Would you believe a Dark Angel attempted to seduce him last week?" Valerie said, disgusted.
"You said that was an archdemon." Wakrun said weakly.
"Oh, they are always such sluts." Celestiatrix replied. "Well, would you mind if I had a taste?"
Valerie visibly thought about it. "Well, I have been wanting grandchildren for some time now. He's my darling little boy who is growing up into a fine hero after all!"
Wakrun ran.
And managed to run straight into a Valkyrie coming around the corner. Bedecked in plate armor as she was, she was hardly hurt as she slammed back onto the ground, but as she blinked and took in her sudden situation, Wakrun laying atop her. The Valkyrie's eyes shifted to the side, a blush tinting her face.
"You have… defeated me brave hero."
"Oi! Get in line!"
Last edited:
When your level 9+ Aasimar Celestial Warlock has mom on speed dial.
Dragontrapper
Homeless Draconis
- Location
- A Tower in the middle of nowhere
This guy, Baeran, and at least a few of the other omake MLs need to form a support group. Or at least a pub crawl.
- Location
- Texas
He didn't run away fast enough to be Sir Robin.
But he should, lest there be dangerous amounts of ara ara in the future.
Sorry, hit post prematurely
I think that should be "...his blonde hair is just perfect. Tell me boy, would you..."
---
A character I see a little of Baerun in is the character Xykon from Order of the Stick.
Hear me out. Near the end of his life as an old man, he had two things that made him happy: indulging his sadistic, murderous whims, and coffee. When he got turned into a lich, he lost his sense of taste, and the former became the only thing that made him happy.
Baerun seems a bit like that. It's not necessarily happiness, maybe fulfillment or purpose. He feels isolated from those around him due to his power discrepancy, and his body no longer registers simple physical pleasures, that the only thing that he still gets something out of is fulfilling his oaths.
I think that should be "...his blonde hair is just perfect. Tell me boy, would you..."
---
A character I see a little of Baerun in is the character Xykon from Order of the Stick.
Hear me out. Near the end of his life as an old man, he had two things that made him happy: indulging his sadistic, murderous whims, and coffee. When he got turned into a lich, he lost his sense of taste, and the former became the only thing that made him happy.
Baerun seems a bit like that. It's not necessarily happiness, maybe fulfillment or purpose. He feels isolated from those around him due to his power discrepancy, and his body no longer registers simple physical pleasures, that the only thing that he still gets something out of is fulfilling his oaths.
Shared History - Fuyao
New
Erien
God's Weakest Soldier
- Location
- Georgia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
View: https://youtu.be/2yql3UYJJ7o?si=5OeAxrnxW6JyBMXl
Thanks to @SpacePaladin for the comm! This is an alt version of chapter 4.9
—
It's not a surprise when the doors burst open to reveal Fuyao, if anyone was going to break the door down. It was going to be… well, you suppose it could have been Cidrom. But Fuyao was far more likely. You turn your head to look at your squ-
She was surprisingly quick when she wanted to be. That was the main thought that entered your head as her hand slapped across your face. You couldn't really feel it, and she yanked her hand back in pain a moment later, but her expression remained that of fury all the same. "I pledged myself to you. I swore to aid you with anything you would ever need. And you kept all that from me!?"
"I didn't wish to e-"
"You shut the fuck up boss." Fuyao growls. "You aren't good at talking, you are good at fighting and looking handsome. People listen to you because they either find you terrifying or because you arouse them."
… You feel moderately insulted by that.
She stares at you for a moment, then sighs. "Baeran, you are a Paladin. It means you are meant to hold yourself to an ideal. You did, congratulations, I'm sure Sune will give you a prize. But now you can slow down a bit so that I can help you."
"Fuyao, I do not requi-"
A finger presses against your lips.
"If the words about to leave your stupid mouth are 'I do not need help,' or, 'It's not for you to worry about' I'm delivering your balls to your mom, got it?"
You nod minutely.
She removes the hand, then lowers herself down to her knees. Her hands moving to your face to wipe away tears. "Baeran, I've known you had issues ever since I saved you. I thought… you were someone else at first, someone impossible when I first met you. When you saved me." Fuyao lets out a soft sigh, then gently lowers herself. Her lips press against your own. She holds herself there, not progressing further. She pulls back a few seconds later, pressing her forehead against your own. "But you have issues, like everyone else. And you have to let me help you with them if you want me to be your wife. I am not going to marry someone who just sits by a window and mopes into the distance. Do we understand each other, Boss?"
"Fuyao. I did not tell you because it isn't something that could be fixed. I was not trying to worry you further, I do not regret what has happened to me."
Fuyao arches a brow. "You teleported across the mansion to hide in your chapel because you have no regrets? If you weren't trying to worry me, I'm afraid you kind of fucked that one up Boss. Now, I don't know anything about curses, but I guarantee you we can fix this."
"There are no cures for what ails me that I have found, but it is all things I can live with, and have."
Fuyao glares at you. "Boss, just because you can doesn't mean you should. I've seen that cat-woman do things with poultices that should be impossible. There's a bitch in there that claims to be a goddess. If nobody here can figure shit out, I'm sure they could make an effort for it. Now, you are going to take my hand, you are going to kiss me, and then we are going to get you some help. Got it?"
- Location
- Texas
So she's have been a more stable choice than Cidrom, but not as mind blowing at the ex-goddess was. Part of me wants to say she would have been a better choice, especially when she finally got to smack him, but the stinky goddess had better shock value to really get Baeran to see what was happening.
Erien
God's Weakest Soldier
- Location
- Georgia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I do my best.
5.1 - The Good Doctor
New
Erien
God's Weakest Soldier
- Location
- Georgia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[Miki]
Research, quiet conversations, secret admissions. Progress towards a solution.
Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!
—
*Miki POV*
Your name had been Hou, and you had been raised in a tiny little village in the middle of the great empire. A rather studious youth, you had made quite a name for yourself studying whatever text you could. Pestering any you could to read books from the west, or scrolls from up north. And you had learned, you had studied, and, with time. You became brilliant. But a village does not need a scholar, it needs doctors, so you pivoted, you worked. You learned how to master the most dangerous herbs, you learned how to cure the most terrifying ailments known to the land.
But there was no cure for Monsterization.
You had been deep in your studies when it happened, when the 'invasion' started. You almost didn't notice, but regardless. It was too late for you. But… you found you hardly cared either. No, beyond that. You were glad, incredibly so. You had gained something you had never known you needed, and beyond that. You gained access to herbs and resources far, far beyond that of your tiny little village. Wonderland was manic, but Wonderland provided all the same. Even if you didn't much enjoy the company of the denizens. Such… silly people, for the most part. So you continued to study, you worked. Your patient count increased, their issues more varied. Tail rot? Easy. Swollen ectoplasm producer? Simple. Cancer? Hardly an effort.
… Though that cure did create a few side effects you had yet to finish resolving.
Regardless. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt. You were the best alchemist in Zipangu. Not a doctor, you didn't perform surgery, you didn't prescribe pills. You used the natural and unnatural world to perform magic. You fixed issues, you granted desires. Though, admittedly, that latter one seemed to have annoyed Baeran and his little servant a fair bit. So as you looked down at the unconscious form of Baeran. He was pretty, but like this… not so much. When resting, even unnaturally, some of his glamor faded away. He was still gorgeous, but more flaws became pronounced. Deep bags underneath his eyes, a general gauntness to his flesh. Small little scratches and scars that littered his body. You reach down, gently shifting some skin around the cheek, feeling it move easily, too easily. A glamor perhaps, or an unconscious effort. It didn't matter, what did was…
"You, dragon lady. We shall not work on my patient in this lobby. Take him to my room."
Cidrom looks from where she had been talking to Fuyao. Her expression that of annoyance, it was that familiar look of 'how dare you tell me what to do'. You had seen it on many nobles, and the solution to that was simple.
"Do you want him better or not? I can't lift him." You say, placing a hand on your hip.
Cidrom glares at you for a moment, then turns to Fuyao. "Go, find his mother. I'll keep an eye on this one."
"Oh, good idea, I might accidentally fix him when you aren't looking otherwise." You reply with a smile.
Cidrom's shoots her gaze back with all the force of a cannon.
You smile wider. "Yes yes, very scary. The patient please?"
—
"I don't trust you," Cidrom says, holding Baeran tightly to herself as you both make your way down the hallway towards your quarters.
"I am but a simple alchemist." You reply, batting your eyelashes at her.
"You are an outsider." Cidrom says, as she does so, the air starts to fill slightly chillier.
"And you are rude," you reply. "Shall we continue trading barbs or shall we focus on the problem at hand?"
Cidrom says nothing, this is good. Right now she doesn't need to be saying much of anything at all. Dragons hardly changed it seemed, be they from your homeland, from the west, or here. They liked to be in control, and got rather… testy when out of it. She was also running rather 'hot,' emotionally and otherwise, few things escaped your nose these days. She had shown up rather abruptly, estrus period perhaps? Worth studying later, for now however.
Your room was a simple thing, but filled with everything you needed, with a rather judicious amount of fascinating product taken from Baeran's vault. "Set him on the bed, remove him to his undergarments."
Cidrom lays him down gently, and does what you ask without complaint. Stopping only a moment before uncinching his pants and pulling them down his legs. Muscular frame, one hundred and… you would guess eighty pounds. Signs of scarring new and old, though remarkably little all in all considering what he does. But given he had been brought back to life, that may very well fix that. The scar on his chest remained, ugly and obvious, and would for some time. But you had kept him alive.
… And now you would make him better.
"Bag, purple. Sitting against the back wall, inside of it is a small pane of glass set in a golden frame, get it."
Cidrom stares at you for a moment, then goes to retrieve it. You hear the shuffling of the bag for a moment, and all the while you position yourself over the patient, lifting up a hand and looking it over.
The dragoness returns, offering you your glass without a word. You take it, and lift it, taking a step back as you hold it up and gaze at Baeran through it.
"What's that?" Cidrom asks.
"Triage machine." You reply, tapping the glass on the side. The image zooms in, focusing on his chest cavity.
"A what?"
You don't respond at first, panning it up to his head, and frown. "It lets me diagnose his issues." You say, lowering it slightly to stare at the man. "Bit of magic, a bit of Gremlin ingenuity. It was made for me after I cured a plague going around." You place it gently on the bed, then lean over the man, moving your finger to the man's mouth and pulling it open.
Slight discoloration, but only slight. You lift the glass to look it over. "Who is Acererak?"
"What?"
You reach in and pull out his tongue, then shift down to look at his hand again. "Acererak. Who?"
"A lich, it's a form of spellc-"
"Yes I know what a lich is. Human Sorceress that turned into undead while chasing power, they kidnap men. I am asking who Acererak is."
"One of the most powerful liches who ever lived. I don't know his history, but he is one of the most dangerous beings in the realms."
You nod, setting the glass aside again. "He's cursed." You say, crossing your arms, turning to face Cidrom as you do. Your tail twitched behind you, Baeran was… smelling rather delicious at the moment. "As he said. I had many people visit my shop to remove curses, or gain them. But none quite as bad as this. Whoever cast this greatly despised him."
"A lot of evil beings do," Cidrom replies, the dragoness staring at you. "Can you fix it?"
You blink, and stare at her in a fashion that hopefully gets across how idiotic she is. "Can I fix it? I can fix anything. I just need the proper mixtures." You look back, staring at his crotch, no, his chest…
Now his crotch.
"His nerves are deadened all over. That will take some time to fix, but it can be done. As for the curse… yes, I should have the materials on hand." You say, turning back to the man, idly playing your hand across his chest, feeling the scars there. A bit of Unicorn horn shavings, perhaps some dienetta-root.
"You can fix the curse?" Cidrom asks in disbelief.
You pause, then turn to look at her skeptically. "You ask me to find out what's wrong with him, and you are yet shocked when I say I can fix him?" you turn the rest of the way around, keeping one hand on his chest, sliding slowly southwards, while the other rests on your hip. "He has severe nerve damage, a curse preventing him from tasting or feeling temperature. He seems to be avoiding sleep entirely on adrenaline and his body's strength. He's partially deafened and appears to have not fully healed from several diseases."
You roll your eyes, and you appear next to the dragoness, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Were he anyone else he'd be dead, and he has died multiple times already."
The dragoness snaps her head to you, but you are gone again, sitting on the nearby table, kicking your legs in the air. "It won't be quick, but yes. I am the best alchemist in Zipangu. I shall start with his sense of touch, for that shall be the easiest to restore, and shall do a remarkable job at making him feel more alive. But, I shall require you to fetch some things I'm missing."
Cidrom stares at you, saying nothing for several moments. Then her gaze turns towards the bed. She lets out a long, slow, and shuddering breath. A faint chills fills the room, and she adopts a glare. But not towards you, it seems entirely directed towards your patient. "What do you need?"
You clap your hands together. "I shall prepare a list, I have been reading some of his books to find herbs present in these lands~"
—
Cidrom left shortly after that, and you were left to your own devices, scanning the various parts of his body, studying the others. You hadn't been joking, by all accounts he was remarkably close to a dead man. He was suffering from rather severe exhaustion, exhaustion he had been apparently ignoring. And the damage to his body was adding up, even if it was 'fixed' every time he came back. Your hand ghosts across his chest, tickling the hair there, and your other moved to his forehead, gently playing with the hair in what was absolutely a medical procedure. This was… tricky, you cured curses yes, and diseases aplenty. But the vast majority of those were sexual in nature for the past decade of your life, and beyond that… you were having to learn the plant life here as fast as possible as you only have a small amount of your actual stock on you. You would sort it out but…
If it was an endless orgasm or Tyraiana's Tantalizing Curse it would be easy… but this was taking all your brainpower. And you weren't afraid to frown, especially since Cidrom was no longer here for you to showoff to.
"Here, boss," the second you called out, and you turned and took the potion from her hands. It was a swirling purple soup that bubbled without heat. The clone skipped along to the back of the room, getting ready to work on the next potion, and you glance over to see your third sitting on a nearby chair, tearing through a book.
Your eyes met, she shook her head. "Green-bellow is usually effective against normal diseases boss, but they don't have any of that here."
"Keep looking, I don't trust I fixed everything in regards to that smoke… undead… dragon thing."
"Get better books." The clone responds. "Or find a nice tentacle plant to harvest for marrow."
You open your mouth to threaten her, but pause as you feel Baeran stir beneath you. He shifts, his eyes still closed, and you take the time to press the tip of the bottle against his lips. At first, there is no response, then the mixture hits his tongue and his eyes shoot open. Now wide awake, his hand snatches out to grab your wrist.
"Behave, drink. This is good for you." You hiss.
Baeran meets your gaze, and visibly calms, swallowing the rest of the potion without complaint. You then remove the glass, and he turns his head and coughs, a bit of purple liquid falling out of his mouth that you catch with a bit of cloth.
"What… was that?"
"Boiled heart of demi-mandrake."
"Why?" Baeran asks.
"Because its liver isn't nearly as good." You reply, then turn and set the bottle onto the table. Turning back, you see him pressing his arms against the mattress, and you move.
"Baeran, I don't care what you want to do. You are going to continue laying down in that bed until I am done with you."
A single claw pointed against his chest, holding him there. A threat, nothing more.
Baeran sighs, then settles again, he stares at the ceiling for a few moments, saying nothing, doing less. You turn, deliberately waving your tail in victory. "Cidrom asked me to take care of you, and I will. So you will be staying in that bed until I'm done. I'm preparing some crushed root, and it will take some time to prepare. So you will be a good little patient and wait for me to finish, understood?"
Baeran grunted. "You can't fix this."
You pause, as do the other five clones, as does the little bird in the window, as does the sound of bubbling from the cauldron, and a half-dozen sounds beside. Your eyes narrow, and you hold up a hand to stop the clones from ripping into him. He was yours.
"You may insult my species, you may insult my accent, you may even insult my morals. But you do not get to insult my abilities." You stomp over, grabbing the man by the chin and turning him to face you. "I will cure you, because you are a challenge… and you've been very kind to me. Despite that little pet of yours attempting to bash my brains in. It's a nasty little curse but nothing that can't be resolved." You grin from ear to ear, quite literally. "Your pathetic little healers in this land may be incapable, your gods may be incapable, but Miki? Oh yes, Miki is more than capable. So lay there and behave."
He mutters something… it definitely sounds like 'as you desire mistress'. You shudder and twitch. Close your eyes, and let out a breath. No… now would be a… poor time yes. Later, oh yes later, perhaps some… rather naughty doctor may come to visit. But not no-
"I'll be good." He capitulates, laying back onto the bed without a struggle. Oh… oh yes, you could definitely read between the lines there.
You smile, your tail swishing behind you, idly curling around you a moment later to tickle his waist. Well, the patient is stressed. Perhaps he needs a little encouragement? Baeran's eyes meet yours, a curious expression on his face. "Miki, a question if I may?"
"Black lace~" you purr.
"If you don't mind me asking-" Baeran begins.
—
Choose two.
[] [What's your story?]
[] [What is Zipangu?]
[] [What is a Cheshire?]
[] [Are you happy here?]
[] [Can youfetch me some water, give me a blowjob?]
Research, quiet conversations, secret admissions. Progress towards a solution.
Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!
—
*Miki POV*
Your name had been Hou, and you had been raised in a tiny little village in the middle of the great empire. A rather studious youth, you had made quite a name for yourself studying whatever text you could. Pestering any you could to read books from the west, or scrolls from up north. And you had learned, you had studied, and, with time. You became brilliant. But a village does not need a scholar, it needs doctors, so you pivoted, you worked. You learned how to master the most dangerous herbs, you learned how to cure the most terrifying ailments known to the land.
But there was no cure for Monsterization.
You had been deep in your studies when it happened, when the 'invasion' started. You almost didn't notice, but regardless. It was too late for you. But… you found you hardly cared either. No, beyond that. You were glad, incredibly so. You had gained something you had never known you needed, and beyond that. You gained access to herbs and resources far, far beyond that of your tiny little village. Wonderland was manic, but Wonderland provided all the same. Even if you didn't much enjoy the company of the denizens. Such… silly people, for the most part. So you continued to study, you worked. Your patient count increased, their issues more varied. Tail rot? Easy. Swollen ectoplasm producer? Simple. Cancer? Hardly an effort.
… Though that cure did create a few side effects you had yet to finish resolving.
Regardless. You knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt. You were the best alchemist in Zipangu. Not a doctor, you didn't perform surgery, you didn't prescribe pills. You used the natural and unnatural world to perform magic. You fixed issues, you granted desires. Though, admittedly, that latter one seemed to have annoyed Baeran and his little servant a fair bit. So as you looked down at the unconscious form of Baeran. He was pretty, but like this… not so much. When resting, even unnaturally, some of his glamor faded away. He was still gorgeous, but more flaws became pronounced. Deep bags underneath his eyes, a general gauntness to his flesh. Small little scratches and scars that littered his body. You reach down, gently shifting some skin around the cheek, feeling it move easily, too easily. A glamor perhaps, or an unconscious effort. It didn't matter, what did was…
"You, dragon lady. We shall not work on my patient in this lobby. Take him to my room."
Cidrom looks from where she had been talking to Fuyao. Her expression that of annoyance, it was that familiar look of 'how dare you tell me what to do'. You had seen it on many nobles, and the solution to that was simple.
"Do you want him better or not? I can't lift him." You say, placing a hand on your hip.
Cidrom glares at you for a moment, then turns to Fuyao. "Go, find his mother. I'll keep an eye on this one."
"Oh, good idea, I might accidentally fix him when you aren't looking otherwise." You reply with a smile.
Cidrom's shoots her gaze back with all the force of a cannon.
You smile wider. "Yes yes, very scary. The patient please?"
—
"I don't trust you," Cidrom says, holding Baeran tightly to herself as you both make your way down the hallway towards your quarters.
"I am but a simple alchemist." You reply, batting your eyelashes at her.
"You are an outsider." Cidrom says, as she does so, the air starts to fill slightly chillier.
"And you are rude," you reply. "Shall we continue trading barbs or shall we focus on the problem at hand?"
Cidrom says nothing, this is good. Right now she doesn't need to be saying much of anything at all. Dragons hardly changed it seemed, be they from your homeland, from the west, or here. They liked to be in control, and got rather… testy when out of it. She was also running rather 'hot,' emotionally and otherwise, few things escaped your nose these days. She had shown up rather abruptly, estrus period perhaps? Worth studying later, for now however.
Your room was a simple thing, but filled with everything you needed, with a rather judicious amount of fascinating product taken from Baeran's vault. "Set him on the bed, remove him to his undergarments."
Cidrom lays him down gently, and does what you ask without complaint. Stopping only a moment before uncinching his pants and pulling them down his legs. Muscular frame, one hundred and… you would guess eighty pounds. Signs of scarring new and old, though remarkably little all in all considering what he does. But given he had been brought back to life, that may very well fix that. The scar on his chest remained, ugly and obvious, and would for some time. But you had kept him alive.
… And now you would make him better.
"Bag, purple. Sitting against the back wall, inside of it is a small pane of glass set in a golden frame, get it."
Cidrom stares at you for a moment, then goes to retrieve it. You hear the shuffling of the bag for a moment, and all the while you position yourself over the patient, lifting up a hand and looking it over.
The dragoness returns, offering you your glass without a word. You take it, and lift it, taking a step back as you hold it up and gaze at Baeran through it.
"What's that?" Cidrom asks.
"Triage machine." You reply, tapping the glass on the side. The image zooms in, focusing on his chest cavity.
"A what?"
You don't respond at first, panning it up to his head, and frown. "It lets me diagnose his issues." You say, lowering it slightly to stare at the man. "Bit of magic, a bit of Gremlin ingenuity. It was made for me after I cured a plague going around." You place it gently on the bed, then lean over the man, moving your finger to the man's mouth and pulling it open.
Slight discoloration, but only slight. You lift the glass to look it over. "Who is Acererak?"
"What?"
You reach in and pull out his tongue, then shift down to look at his hand again. "Acererak. Who?"
"A lich, it's a form of spellc-"
"Yes I know what a lich is. Human Sorceress that turned into undead while chasing power, they kidnap men. I am asking who Acererak is."
"One of the most powerful liches who ever lived. I don't know his history, but he is one of the most dangerous beings in the realms."
You nod, setting the glass aside again. "He's cursed." You say, crossing your arms, turning to face Cidrom as you do. Your tail twitched behind you, Baeran was… smelling rather delicious at the moment. "As he said. I had many people visit my shop to remove curses, or gain them. But none quite as bad as this. Whoever cast this greatly despised him."
"A lot of evil beings do," Cidrom replies, the dragoness staring at you. "Can you fix it?"
You blink, and stare at her in a fashion that hopefully gets across how idiotic she is. "Can I fix it? I can fix anything. I just need the proper mixtures." You look back, staring at his crotch, no, his chest…
Now his crotch.
"His nerves are deadened all over. That will take some time to fix, but it can be done. As for the curse… yes, I should have the materials on hand." You say, turning back to the man, idly playing your hand across his chest, feeling the scars there. A bit of Unicorn horn shavings, perhaps some dienetta-root.
"You can fix the curse?" Cidrom asks in disbelief.
You pause, then turn to look at her skeptically. "You ask me to find out what's wrong with him, and you are yet shocked when I say I can fix him?" you turn the rest of the way around, keeping one hand on his chest, sliding slowly southwards, while the other rests on your hip. "He has severe nerve damage, a curse preventing him from tasting or feeling temperature. He seems to be avoiding sleep entirely on adrenaline and his body's strength. He's partially deafened and appears to have not fully healed from several diseases."
You roll your eyes, and you appear next to the dragoness, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Were he anyone else he'd be dead, and he has died multiple times already."
The dragoness snaps her head to you, but you are gone again, sitting on the nearby table, kicking your legs in the air. "It won't be quick, but yes. I am the best alchemist in Zipangu. I shall start with his sense of touch, for that shall be the easiest to restore, and shall do a remarkable job at making him feel more alive. But, I shall require you to fetch some things I'm missing."
Cidrom stares at you, saying nothing for several moments. Then her gaze turns towards the bed. She lets out a long, slow, and shuddering breath. A faint chills fills the room, and she adopts a glare. But not towards you, it seems entirely directed towards your patient. "What do you need?"
You clap your hands together. "I shall prepare a list, I have been reading some of his books to find herbs present in these lands~"
—
Cidrom left shortly after that, and you were left to your own devices, scanning the various parts of his body, studying the others. You hadn't been joking, by all accounts he was remarkably close to a dead man. He was suffering from rather severe exhaustion, exhaustion he had been apparently ignoring. And the damage to his body was adding up, even if it was 'fixed' every time he came back. Your hand ghosts across his chest, tickling the hair there, and your other moved to his forehead, gently playing with the hair in what was absolutely a medical procedure. This was… tricky, you cured curses yes, and diseases aplenty. But the vast majority of those were sexual in nature for the past decade of your life, and beyond that… you were having to learn the plant life here as fast as possible as you only have a small amount of your actual stock on you. You would sort it out but…
If it was an endless orgasm or Tyraiana's Tantalizing Curse it would be easy… but this was taking all your brainpower. And you weren't afraid to frown, especially since Cidrom was no longer here for you to showoff to.
"Here, boss," the second you called out, and you turned and took the potion from her hands. It was a swirling purple soup that bubbled without heat. The clone skipped along to the back of the room, getting ready to work on the next potion, and you glance over to see your third sitting on a nearby chair, tearing through a book.
Your eyes met, she shook her head. "Green-bellow is usually effective against normal diseases boss, but they don't have any of that here."
"Keep looking, I don't trust I fixed everything in regards to that smoke… undead… dragon thing."
"Get better books." The clone responds. "Or find a nice tentacle plant to harvest for marrow."
You open your mouth to threaten her, but pause as you feel Baeran stir beneath you. He shifts, his eyes still closed, and you take the time to press the tip of the bottle against his lips. At first, there is no response, then the mixture hits his tongue and his eyes shoot open. Now wide awake, his hand snatches out to grab your wrist.
"Behave, drink. This is good for you." You hiss.
Baeran meets your gaze, and visibly calms, swallowing the rest of the potion without complaint. You then remove the glass, and he turns his head and coughs, a bit of purple liquid falling out of his mouth that you catch with a bit of cloth.
"What… was that?"
"Boiled heart of demi-mandrake."
"Why?" Baeran asks.
"Because its liver isn't nearly as good." You reply, then turn and set the bottle onto the table. Turning back, you see him pressing his arms against the mattress, and you move.
"Baeran, I don't care what you want to do. You are going to continue laying down in that bed until I am done with you."
A single claw pointed against his chest, holding him there. A threat, nothing more.
Baeran sighs, then settles again, he stares at the ceiling for a few moments, saying nothing, doing less. You turn, deliberately waving your tail in victory. "Cidrom asked me to take care of you, and I will. So you will be staying in that bed until I'm done. I'm preparing some crushed root, and it will take some time to prepare. So you will be a good little patient and wait for me to finish, understood?"
Baeran grunted. "You can't fix this."
You pause, as do the other five clones, as does the little bird in the window, as does the sound of bubbling from the cauldron, and a half-dozen sounds beside. Your eyes narrow, and you hold up a hand to stop the clones from ripping into him. He was yours.
"You may insult my species, you may insult my accent, you may even insult my morals. But you do not get to insult my abilities." You stomp over, grabbing the man by the chin and turning him to face you. "I will cure you, because you are a challenge… and you've been very kind to me. Despite that little pet of yours attempting to bash my brains in. It's a nasty little curse but nothing that can't be resolved." You grin from ear to ear, quite literally. "Your pathetic little healers in this land may be incapable, your gods may be incapable, but Miki? Oh yes, Miki is more than capable. So lay there and behave."
He mutters something… it definitely sounds like 'as you desire mistress'. You shudder and twitch. Close your eyes, and let out a breath. No… now would be a… poor time yes. Later, oh yes later, perhaps some… rather naughty doctor may come to visit. But not no-
"I'll be good." He capitulates, laying back onto the bed without a struggle. Oh… oh yes, you could definitely read between the lines there.
You smile, your tail swishing behind you, idly curling around you a moment later to tickle his waist. Well, the patient is stressed. Perhaps he needs a little encouragement? Baeran's eyes meet yours, a curious expression on his face. "Miki, a question if I may?"
"Black lace~" you purr.
"If you don't mind me asking-" Baeran begins.
—
Choose two.
[] [What's your story?]
[] [What is Zipangu?]
[] [What is a Cheshire?]
[] [Are you happy here?]
[] [Can you
[] [What's your story?]
[X] [What is Zipangu?]
[X] [What is a Cheshire?]
[X] [What is Zipangu?]
[X] [What is a Cheshire?]
[X] [What is Zipangu?]
[X] [What is a Cheshire?]
[X] [What is a Cheshire?]
- Location
- Texas
Hm, what kind of side effects I wonder? Monster girl, so probably sexy, but you never know.
Goddamn, that's hella impressive magic on that thing to pick out the name of the caster of curse.
Oh boy oh boy, Baeran is in for a surprise when he has his next sexual experience!
He didn't even realize he was insulting her, much less that he was waving a metaphorical red flag in front of her.
[X] [What's your story?]
[X] [Are you happy here?]
Let's get some info on her and show some concern imo!
Erien
God's Weakest Soldier
- Location
- Georgia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Very welcome.
Can't help but notice you're also among the people not voting for it.
As it stands, the water post seems to have lewd interrupt forced into it, and considering Baeran's trauma in his backstory, that has some very srtious trauma button potential.
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
That, and with how dead his nerves seem and the depression stemming from the lack of sensation, Bearen won't get much out of it. It'd do more for Miki then for him, and that's extremely sad.
[X] [What's your story?]
[X] [What is a Cheshire?]
I'm not sure about the first one, we basically got the gist of how she became who she is, and how it started. But Bearen doesn't know, and it leads into the second question pretty well.
[X] [What's your story?]
[X] [What is a Cheshire?]
I'm not sure about the first one, we basically got the gist of how she became who she is, and how it started. But Bearen doesn't know, and it leads into the second question pretty well.
