Chapter Forty Nine: A new role…
Greg blinked a few times as sleep left him. A slight frown knitted his brows. Something felt different. Try as he would, however, he couldn't figure out what it was. It wasn't until he pushed up off the bed that it clicked in his mind. He was energetic! For the first time in three months, Greg didn't go for a dungeon run the previous night. As enjoyable as the dives were, they always left him feeling completely drained afterward. A feeling that would last well into the next day. Greg had gotten used to waking up feeling like ninety percent of his energy had been drained away and operating on just the ten percent left. He'd gotten so used to this that waking up feeling energetic felt a bit strange to him.
Grooming himself, especially with Olivia's help, didn't take that long. Before long Greg walked into the dining room where he'd hosted Shalia and her mother the day prior. His sister, Tayani, was already seated on the seat to the left side of the head seat while his mother was standing next to the head seat setting out the food for the three of them. In larger families, the daughters would be expected to help in setting the table. But given that there were only three individuals to be served, his mother didn't mind doing it by herself. Of course, Tayani had offered to do it for her but their mother would hear nothing of it. She had protested that she wasn't yet too useless to serve her own family. This wasn't at all what his sister had been implying. The girl, however, knew an argument that she wouldn't win when she saw one and so hadn't pressed the issue.
Greg usually wore his mask just as he was about to leave the house. As such, while passing by his sister, Greg leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head. As was typical of most teenagers, she pretended that he was being a bother. Greg, however, didn't miss the small smile that played on her lips. Losing their father had hit her just as hard as it had their mother. While it didn't entirely take away the pain of loss, Greg could see that taking the patriarchal role in the family assuaged some of the sense of loss that she had. It gave her an anchor that she could cling to as she tried to deal with the sudden loss of their father.
But while Greg's show of affection was genuinely motivated by his care for his sister, that didn't mean he didn't have other ulterior motives accompanying the care. As he had learned during his father's sendoff party, if you treat everyone with an equal amount of friendliness, then no one thought anything of it. Which was why, apart from rolling her eyes with a small smile Tayani didn't seem to think anything more of it when Greg hugged their mother from behind. It also helps that his mother had sent the girl to forage in the forest the day before, meaning she was none the wiser about all that happened with the Town-head's wife and daughter and his mother.
Hidden from his sister's view by their mother's body, however, was his rapidly hardening dick. And given the fact Greg wasn't wearing the SEXUAL INTENT pants, he knew that his mother could feel it as his monster pressed into her generous ass. A sly smile crossed Greg's lips when rather than pulling away, he felt his mother ever so subtly pushing her ass against him. Ever since the day before, his mother had been like a bird that was both curious and skittish at the same time. Some part of her was irresistibly drawn to him. The false perception she previously had of him that protected her against his innate title of AROUSING was completely shattered and no matter how much she wanted to, there was no putting it back together. Some deep desire had been awoken within her and it wouldn't easily be suppressed. At the same time, however, her conviction that it would be wrong for anything to happen between them was mounting a formidable war against the aforementioned desire.
This left her mother in both an awkward and amusing position where she both desired and resisted his advances whenever he teased her. Greg, however, felt no need to rush the woman. Instead, like a predator quietly stalking their prey, Greg enjoyed the hunt. He'd watch her tie herself in knots trying to fight the very thing she wanted so badly. How long it would take for her to finally give in to her desires, was an interesting question that Greg looked forward to finding the answer to.
"A good morning to you, Mother," Greg spoke in a low teasing tone of voice right by her ear.
His voice brought her out of the slightly distracted state she'd been in while pushing up against his cock. She stepped away from him doing all she could to make it look natural and not the guilty act of someone who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Greg didn't try to restrict her escape. Instead, he smoothly sank into his chair at the head of the table to keep Tayani from noticing the large bulge that was now tenting the front of his pants. His mother had only taken a small step away, as such, once Greg was seated, it was all too easy for him to surreptitiously reach down below the hem of her dress and slowly pull his hand up her shapely legs. Greg couldn't go too high enough to touch any of her sensitive spots lest Tayani notice the motion of his hand. Still, Greg enjoyed the warmth of her thighs even as he ran his hand up and down between them. Once again, his mother paused looking torn about how she should respond to his antics. Greg just smiled knowing that with every little push from him, she was getting more and more tangled in his web…
When Greg walked out of his house after breakfast, he was greeted by the chill air of late fall. Winter was fast approaching and in a week or so, the first of the snow would fall. Greg didn't know if they were in an evergreen forest or if it had something to do with the magic of this world he found himself in but the trees were seemingly unaffected by the changing season. The leaves didn't change color or fall off the trees. Instead, they stood defiantly in the face of the coming change. But while the trees didn't seem to change, there was a clear change in the way the people around him behaved. For one many more hunting parties were organizing to go out hunting. The migration of beasts during the winter usually started with the prey animals meaning that there would be a lot more success in hunting compared to other periods. This was a blessing to the town as once the predators also started moving, either to escape the cold or to pursue the prey, it would become too dangerous to go out hunting. This pre-winter hunting was aimed at stockpiling away food for the winter.
The other change that came with the advent of winter was all the defenses that were being built around town. Fields of pikes that would break any charges or stampedes by the beasts. Ditches with spikes at the bottom that all but the most limber of beasts wouldn't be able to cross. There was even a log wall being erected around the town that would be manned by the men of the town in rotating shifts. The attitude of the town was usually to let the beasts do their thing until the season passed and they were gone. Every season, however, there were always some beasts that tried to breach the defenses of the town and hunt within it. The wall was there as the last line of defense just in case all the other traps failed to dissuade the beasts from this course of action.
Greg also didn't miss the way people were reinforcing their houses. Especially those on the outermost edges of town. Despite their best efforts, each year, there were always some formidable beasts that managed to break through all defenses and make it into town. If your house was not able to repel such beasts, or at least hold them at bay long enough that help came along, then you'd essentially be gambling with your life and that of your family. You'd be banking on the hope that when such creatures made it into town, they wouldn't come for you. Given that everyone Greg saw was preparing in one way or the other, no one in the town was banking on luck. If not for the magic shop, Greg would also have been spending this time reinforcing his house. He, however, had access to items and enchantments that were far more powerful than simple wood. As such he wasn't all too bothered about it.
While for most of the year the Town-head and the three families seemed standoffish and detached from the other members of this town, it was in this one season that they earned their prestige and legitimacy for the rest of the year. The Town head would be involved in the planning of the defenses. Not only their setup but also the rotation of men that would be put on standby on the wall and patrolling the town. Even more importantly, as probably the most powerful individual in the town, he would be on standby to help fell any beasts that made it past the wall they were setting up.
The three families didn't have anyone near as powerful as the Town-head. But what they lacked in overwhelming individual power, they more than made up for in formidable warriors. Each family had between seventy to a hundred strong fighters that they could commit to the defense of the town. In other larger population centers, this would be a paltry amount. But in a small remote town with a population of about three thousand where the largest portion was children followed by women and less than a thousand were men, this was a significant amount. This was even more so when one considered the fact that the fighters from the three families were usually a cut above the other common folk both in training and fighting experience.
It was also during this time that the healer proved herself an almost indispensable part of the community. Before she came along, the winter migrations were a bloody affair that saw many of the town's defenders either maimed or outright killed. With the healer around, however, injuries didn't fester or take months to heal, maiming often didn't lead to permanent disability, and injuries that would have otherwise been fatal were often remedied before they took a life. The only exceptions to this were if the beasts managed to take the person on the spot, or if the person was too far gone by the time they got them to the healer. She was powerful, but even her prodigious abilities had a limit.
Greg's gaze moved to the gate of his compound and, much to his surprise, Shalia was standing there. Even more surprising was the fact that Niya and Naiya were also there alongside her chatting and laughing with her. After being a bit overzealous with her first time, and running both her and her mother rugged the day before, Greg had felt a bit guilty for it. He'd thus dismissed her for the day and even told her that she could take this day off to rest. As such, Greg had been expecting to walk to the infirmary alone today. Instead, he found himself in the company of three individuals he hadn't expected to encounter. The Town-head's daughter because he'd given her the day off. The Valla brother and sister because they had no plausible reason to show up at his doorstep. At least the first time around, there was the excuse of his father's sendoff party. This time, they'd just showed up out of the blue.
"Good morning Roka."
Just three months ago, Shalia would never have been the one to initiate a greeting to him. Least of all with her friends around. By this point, however, it had almost become instinct for her to greet him with a wide smile. It was only after she'd done it that she seemed to catch herself. Greg didn't know whether it was the presence of her friends or the memories of what they'd done the day before that caused a light blush to spread over her face.
Regardless of which it was, Greg just smiled and replied. "A good morning to you, Shalia," He responded amiably. "I didn't expect to see you today," He voiced his thoughts.
The blush on the girl's face deepened as she turned her gaze to the side avoiding his gaze. "Well… this is a punishment from my dad, so I can't exactly pick when I can come or not," She responded.
It was an excuse if Greg ever heard one. Even without the DISCERNING ring, Greg could see the desire in her eyes. He'd awoken something within her, and from the looks of it, it wouldn't be easily placated. The excuse, however, caused Niya and Naiya to unintentionally reveal something they otherwise wouldn't have. As soon as they'd heard what Shalia said, the siblings shared a wide-eyed look of surprise that told Greg all he needed to know. They too weren't here of their own volition. Instead, they'd probably been compelled to once again make an effort to get on his good side.
Turning to them, Greg smiled and greeted them. "A good morning to the two of you," he spoke through his mask. "Two what do I owe the honor?" he asked curious to see how they would spin their forced presence.
"A good morning to you too, Roka," Niya was first to return the greeting. Greg didn't know if he was reading into it too much, but despite the smile on his face, he could see some measure of dislike in his eyes. "My sister and I were talking and you came up. It didn't take long for us to realize that we had been poor friends to you. Rather than be with you when it was the hardest for you, we only came to your father's sendoff party and completely disappeared after," he stated.
"We'd like to make it up to you," Naiya picked up from her brother. Even with her, Greg got the distinct impression that she harbored some resentment against him. Why that was, Greg couldn't puzzle out. "This time we'll be the ones to host you and any that you might like to bring along," She offered with a smile at Shalia. "We know that you are usually occupied during the day by your lessons with the healer, but perhaps you'd be willing to indulge us for an evening meal?" She posed flattering her eyes at him in a manner that was meant to be alluring.
Confusion was clear to be seen on Shalia's face as she regarded the two. She knew perfectly well that while they weren't enemies, the two couldn't be called Greg's friends in any sense of the word. Outside of his father's sendoff party, they'd never once interacted before or since. As such, it was clear that all that the two had just said was little more than a charade. On his part, however, Greg was smiling under the mask. "A dinner, huh? Those tend to lead to unexpected outcomes," He said cryptically, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. While a look of slight confusion crossed the siblings' expression at his words, the blush that had almost completely faded from Shalia's face came back full force as she was reminded that 'a simple dinner' is how this all started. Greg continued as Shalia turned away to hide her blush. "I'd be very happy to join you for dinner tonight if that's okay with you," Greg spoke up.
"Perfect. We'll make sure you are well received," Came Niya's response, a forced smile on his lips. Turning to Shalia, he continued. "Why don't you join us for some red honey-flower tea?" He invited.
Given that he had given her the day off, Shalia must have known that she could leave at her pleasure and Greg wouldn't raise any fuss about it. By the look in her eyes as she turned to look at him, however, it was clear that she wanted to stay with him. She'd come today despite being given the day off, it most certainly wasn't because she wanted to go off to have some tea with Niya and Naiya. Despite her eyes quietly begging for him to give her an excuse not to go, Greg just smiled at her. The dynamic of their relationship had already been established. She wanted him… badly. Greg wasn't going to allow her to play it off any other way. A small, annoyed huff left Shalia as she turned away from Roka towards Niya. "I'm sorry, Niya. I'm already in so much trouble with my father," He said. "If he finds out that I disobeyed him again, I can't even imagine how displeased he will be with me," She voiced.
The smile that had been on Niya's face faded and he looked between them with some measure of displeasure. Still, in the end he offered a weak smile and acquiesced. "I understand," He said briefly. "We'll see you tonight, Roka. Excuse us," he said before the two turned and started walking off.
Greg silently watched them go for a while before he spoke up. "After how… vigorous, we were yesterday, I'd have thought you'd be sore today," He said.
"I… I am," Shalia admitted pink-faced and unable to meet his eyes.
"And yet here you are," Greg said with mischief in his voice.
"I… I only came to escort you," The girl said, trying to convince herself just as much as she was him.
Without warning, Greg snaked his hand around her waist and grabbed a handful of her left cheek. "And what if I want more?" Greg asked. Though teasing, there were undertones of a challenge in his voice as he posed the question.
Shalia's eyes went wide when Greg so openly grabbed her ass in public. Her eyes turned this way and that to see if anyone was looking at them. A smile crossed Greg's face behind the mask as he noticed that she didn't pull away or try to get rid of his hand. "I… I'll try… but not here," She replied.
"Good girl," Greg said turning her chin up so she was looking directly at him. "I plan to make really good use of you," he taunted. "But not now. I'm late!" Greg added before turning and starting toward the infirmary. A smile played on his lips as he did so…
***
Knock, knock, knock.
Greg forcefully rapped on the wooden door with knuckles to make his knocking louder than the sound of metal striking metal. He then stepped back to wait. The loud clanging of metal ceased and soon thereafter the blacksmith pulled the door to his workshop open. Due to the nature of his work, the man had a large, stocky frame with well-defined muscles honed by years of working at his craft. Given that this was a small remote town and not some planned-out city, everyone who had a trade of one kind or the other, usually had it close to if not directly attached to their home. With the Blacksmith, it was the latter case. His smithy was attached to his house as an extra room to the side of the main house. An Amicable smile crossed the man's face when he caught sight of Greg. "Roka, my boy! How are you? What brings you to my house? Come inside! Come inside!" The blacksmith had always been a jolly but chatty man. Before Greg could get a word in, the man had already greeted and ushered him to the house.
With a smile, Greg allowed himself to be led inside the man's house. "Thank you, Uncle Olaf," he said calling the man by his name. The man and Roka weren't in any way blood-related. But given that the man was much older than Greg was it was expected that he add the equivalent word for uncle as a polite form of address. Given that the blacksmith was in the same age range as his father, the title of uncle would suffice, if he was older than his father but not grey-haired yet, he'd have a title that roughly translated to 'big uncle', in the reverse case, the title would be 'little uncle'. "I've been training under the healer for a while now," Greg continued before the man could start talking again. "Learning how to pick up the signs of different ailments, how to deal with the minor ones and to spot the signs of the more serious ones early enough so you can get help from the healer. I can also deal with certain injuries if they are not that critical," he revealed. "But no matter how good the training…"
"Words won't throw the spear," The blacksmith completed the saying, nodding with understanding.
In this town where hunting was the primary means of subsistence, the younger generation usually learned how to hunt both from their father and other more accomplished hunters in the town. The essence of the expression is meant to remind both the teacher and student that words can only go so far. If the student doesn't eventually put into practice what they are being taught, then it is pointless. "So I have been going around town talking to every one of my neighbors to see what, if anything, ails them. Perhaps you or someone in your house had been feeling weak, perhaps you've been having small aches that you didn't deem serious enough to go see the healer about. Maybe you got a small injury that wasn't that serious and so you let it be. Maybe there is some minor ailment that's been bothering you. So long as it's not anything too serious or life-threatening, then I believe I can help!" Greg explained.
"Wonderful," the man exclaimed with clear elation in his voice. "I've been meaning to see the healer about my hammering arm," The man said, lifting the said arm and gingerly rotating it this way and that all the while his face was scrunched up in a wince of discomfort. "But with winter drawing near and all the armor and weapons that need forging or fixing, I haven't had the time," he explained.
"When did the pain start?" Greg asked as he stood and moved to stand beside the man. Taking the large muscly arm, he moved it this way and that to test the range of comfortable motion.
"Started about ten or so days ago, but it's gotten really bad the last two days," The man answered.
"Is the pain only focused on your shoulders, or does it spread from your shoulders down through the whole arm?" Greg continued to interrogate even as he had the man flex his arm back and forth.
"It's worst at my shoulder, but the pain sometimes extends downwards to my hand," The man replied.
"Do you feel pain anywhere else or is it just focused on this one arm?" he continued.
Greg asked this and a whole slew of other questions. In truth, the answers didn't really matter to him. What was most important to him was that he cemented the image of a diligent healer in the man's mind. This was the plan that Greg had come up with. There was a whole town full of women that he could earn lust points from. Most of them, however, were hidden behind the social norms and rules of propriety that pervaded the town. Whether it was getting to them or them coming to him, it would require that he create a plausible reason that wouldn't raise the suspicion of either the husbands or fathers of those involved. That's why he'd been going from one house to the next talking to the men of the house and offering his services where needed. On this first day, Greg hadn't even shown interest in any of the women in the houses that he'd visited. Impatience would probably raise the guard of the men and cause his plans to fall apart before they'd even gotten the chance to take off. He'd first need to create the unshakable image of a healer before he could subtly progress further with his plans.
"Hmm, I think I know just the thing to help you," Greg said as he reached into a leather pouch hanging off to his side. Greg had bought the pouch from the magic shop for a hundred thousand magic points. It's name in the shop was 'the potion-maker's pouch'. It was capable of holding up to a hundred vials of potions of various kinds. Greg didn't have to rifle through it to find what he was looking for. All he had to do was reach into it while thinking of the potion he wanted and if it was there, it would come to his hand. The best part was that even when at full capacity, the weight of the pouch wouldn't increase at all.
For three months, Greg had been going on dungeon dives. Unfortunately for him, all he'd managed to get was an unending string of PUTRID performances. The reward for such performances was a whole slew of single-use, low-grade potions. Enough so that the pouch was already ninety percent full. Greg had gotten potions with a whole range of effects, from poisons, paralytics, sleep, and even aphrodisiacs. The majority of the potions that he got, however, were healing potions. When it came to mages, the effect of these potions was little more than trash. None of the poison were potent enough to be lethal. The other potions with adverse effects could be resisted by sheer willpower alone and the healing ones wouldn't do much against the kinds of things that could hurt mages. What they could heal, a simple healing spell could probably do a better job at. When it came to mundane humans, however, the things were potent enough that they usually had an immediate effect.
This was immediately put on display as a groan of relief escaped the blacksmith. Greg had poured out a minty green potion meant to alleviate pain in the affected area and rubbed it in. Greg could see the muscles on the man's face go lax as the potion sapped away all the pain that he'd been experiencing. All the while, Greg continued to rub in the potion and massage the man's arm. Even without doing this, the potion would have worked just as well. He, however, wanted to reinforce in the minds of the men that hands-on contact was just a normal part of the treatment routine. After a minute had passed. Greg took out a vial with an ocean-blue liquid inside. While the first potion was an anesthetic, this one was the true healing potion that would remedy whatever damage the man had probably suffered from his trade. This was the most important part of his plot, establishing legitimacy. No matter how good he acted the part, if he couldn't actually cure anything, his whole plan would crash and burn. As such, whenever he'd been asked to deal with any minor issue, he'd employed the use of these potions to cure the issue.
"You'll need to rest for the day and allow your body to recuperate!" Greg advised.
The man, however, was shaking his head even before he was done. "Can't do that, my boy. Winter shows no mercy to the unprepared," He argued. "The armor and weapons I'm preparing could mean the difference between life and death for one of our hunters," He went on to say.
"True, but this isn't the last winter," Greg countered. "If you wreck your body to prepare for this winter and can't do the same next winter, those same lives will still be in danger," He calmly reasoned.
His words were followed by silence as the blacksmith found himself unable to argue against his reasoning. The small frown that had been on the man's face, however, quickly cleared and a smile took its place as he turned to look at him. "Well thank the Beyond you've come along," He stated as if this resolved the whole issue. "I know that you can't keep doing this for free, so tell you what, if you keep me able to work until I'm through with winter preparations, I make you a good armor set," He offered.
A genuinely pleased smile crossed Greg's face, not because he needed the armor or anything. He could get a tier-three armor set from the shop if he so desired. Instead, his joy stemmed from the fact that, without knowing, the blacksmith had just opened the door and invited the fox into the chicken coop. Today he'd encountered the man while he was on his own. That wouldn't always be the case. "Be that as it may, you need to take care of yourself, Uncle," He replied in the tone of one who was giving in.
"Wonderful," the man stated rising to his feet. "With your help, I'll be able to hit my goals sooner than expected." The two of them moved to the door, the man ready to get back to his work and Greg ready to move on to the next house. When they pushed the door open, however, they caught sight of the blacksmith's wife walking into his compound with a large pot full of water balancing on her head. "Eniya! Where is Asha?" the man asked, for the first time, his voice sounding sorely displeased. Before Greg could work out what had garnered the man's displeasure, he'd already crossed the distance between himself and his wife and reached up to take the pot off her head. What had looked large on the woman's head, suddenly looked much smaller in the man's arms as he walked back towards the house with it.
"I send her to gather some greens to cook for dinner," The woman answered with a smile despite her husband's displeasure. Even Greg who didn't have the context for why he seemed so unhappy, could still hear the concern in the man's voice. He wasn't angry with his wife, he was concerned for her.
"If you keep coddling that girl she won't know how to take care of her own house!" the man grumbled. "Plus you know that carrying so much weight on your head always worsens your neck pain…" The man suddenly paused mid-speech as his gaze moved from his wife to Greg, his expression the embodiment of a light bulb moment. "You better thank the spirits woman," He suddenly exclaimed with joy, almost dropping the pot full of water. "Roka here has been learning from the healer about the healing arts," The man stated before launching into an explanation of what Greg was doing around town. Unable to depart now. Greg smiled and walked into the house with them.
Greg doubted that the blacksmith could pick up on both the slight dread and anticipation that were gleaming in his wife's eyes every time she looked his way. Unbeknownst to the man, this wasn't the first time that the two of them had met or interacted. Back during his father's sendoff party, she had been among the women that his mother had called on to help with the preparation for the party. Back then Greg had several title items on and through them, had managed to turn their brief interaction into one that had probably stuck at the back of her mind for a long while. And even now as she looked at Greg, he could see one part of her dreading the idea that it had all been in her head and another part anticipating the feeling should it turn out that it wasn't.
Unwilling to disappoint, Greg who'd been standing with his hands behind his back, quietly summoned the SENSUAL TOUCH bangle from his storage and slipped it on. "So when did the pain start?" Moving to stand behind where the woman was seated, Greg started another barrage of questions. Reaching into the potion-maker's pouch, Greg pulled out the pain-alleviating potion which he carefully applied to the nape of the woman's neck.
The woman was stopped in the middle of answering one of Greg's questions as a moan of relief involuntarily left her lips. The effect of the potion was immediate. Whatever pain she had been enduring for however long, immediately began to melt away as the potion did its magic. That moan immediately took on a more lascivious undertone as Greg's hands began to massage her along the length of her neck. Happy to see and hear the relief that his wife was experiencing from the pain she'd been enduring, the blacksmith was smiling ear to ear. He was clearly unaware of the erotic pleasure his wife was experiencing from what appeared to be a simple massage. Greg smiled back at the man knowing that soon enough, the man's wife would be experiencing even more pleasure from him…