"Shit that's cold!" The splash of water to her naked back made Oz squeal in displeasure. All her effort to get dressed was quickly wasted.
Nahern had called in more maids into the hut before he left. With their help she was led to another hut. The ground had been pounded soft and lofty after all the snow had been shoveled aside, but all she noticed as the freezing cold trying to suck what little warmth she retained away.
A large tub had been compressed into the ground, lined with some sort of glittering oil that kept the soil from absorbing the blissfully hot and steamy water.
Oz had been forcefully stripped down and promptly scrubbed from top to bottom with rough clothes. Dead skin and salt ran off her skin down to her feet, leaving behind baby soft skin and relaxed muscles. The maid laughed as she squealed from the chill of the handfuls of snow used to rinse her skin clean. Once they were pleased with how clean she was, a pair helped her down the carved stairs into the water.
"I really need to go now, I'm clean enough....." Her words melted on her tongue as the water hit her core. Her frantic thoughts whisked away like the steam out the air vents of the ceiling. The maids helped lift her hair up and let her rest against the side of the soaking tub. Another set of chirps and the women turned back to folding and cleaning the space.
'I really need to get up.' Oz thought, but the deliciously warm water was too relaxing even if it felt odd. It wasn't thin like the water she was used to, it had a slightly gel-like texture. Thicker water? Perhaps it was due to the winter climate? Water needed more omoph? She held her hand up, watching the jelly water slide down her arms. Whatever it was, it was pure heaven. The thick water held onto heat wonderfully, soaking through the chill that set right into her bones.
Her mind was so hazy from the fever. She could lay here forever, but she really had to go. A few other people came and went, maids brought fresh towels then took dirty piles out. Two women came in and shared the bath, laughing with friends or sitting around to fold towels.
It was surprisingly cozy as she sat there. Oz was never one to enjoy public baths, much less with an entirely different species.
'Aliens? Another world? Where am I?' Oz thought with a yawn, a towel loaded with cold snow placed over her head by a maid. The sensation of cold and hot made her shiver, yet it was incredibly refreshing. Her eyes slowly drifted shut.
'Okay maybe that grumpy elf guy had the right idea.' She thought with a yawn. A warmth that had nothing to do with the warm bath came to her cheeks. The thought...what was his name again? Nahern?
Far too soon, a different pair of maids helped her out. Her skin shimmering much like theirs now. An oily layer left behind. She poked at her skin, so plump and hydrated now. After a surprisingly relaxing dry off session, she could finally get dressed.
"That's weird." Oz muttered, the usually tight fabric was baggier then she remembered. Maybe the fever helped to de-bloat her body, pounds of water weight sweated off. She tightened down the arm bracers and knee pads, the weight comforting. Sadly her boots were beyond saving. She held the ruined hiking boots, the soles hanging on by threads. The hours of chasing that bear had its consequences.
"There's no way I can run in these." She groaned.
As if summoned, Nahern came into the bathing hut. Every maid stopped immediately whatever task they were doing to bow with their right arm over their chest. The odd display was unnerving, leaving Oz the only person upright and staring at him. Stupidly holding her ruined shoes and confused.
The prince eyed her hands, he frowned then promptly walked back out. Oz heard his odd chirping voice call out to the group. Within moments she stepped back, the prince returned and placed a fresh pair of shoes into her hands.
"Wear these." He said plainly.
She had to stare in shock, her lips parted stupidly.
[Hiking Boots of the Ice-Elves : Super Rare: +10 Dexterity, +10 Resistance, +5 Comfort]
[Leg Wraps : Super Rare : +5 Comfort, +10 Dexterity, +5 Damage Resistance]
The blue box was back, glowing over the leather shoes and leg wraps now in her hands. The boots were simplistic suede leather with impossibly soft fur lining. The sole almost nonexistent, it molded to her touch in the style of those fashionable barely there shoes. At Nahern's order, a pair of maids helped her with the shoes. Tucking up the track pants over her knees to wrap her calves with the buttery soft leather wraps over her wooly socks. Supporting her muscles like compressive socks. The boots fit perfectly over the wraps and socks, tied down with only a few laces in the back.
"Ah, thank you." She felt silly under Nahern's stare. The shoes were like comfy slippers. The maids scrubbed them with fresh snow much to her horror, but the slush just beaded off. She didn't even feel the cold!
He then walked out, motioning for her to follow.
Oz groaned, "Is he always like that?" She asked one of the maids.
The flushed maid only offered her a giggle. Oz rolled her eyes and followed after into the chilly air, wishing she just stayed inside. Nahern held up a small furred mantle, dropping it over her shoulders the moment she stepped out.
"Whoa! Warn a girl." She called out, the prince just chuckled. "Follow me, hunter."
With that he turned, his long legs making easy strides through the settlement. Without her weapons she felt uneasy, but everyone seemed ...nice enough. She followed Nahern's red cape through the tents, counting easily over thirty of the large circle huts. Plenty of other elves walked around, most carrying weapons of their own. Either swords at their hips or bows at the ready.
'Is this really a hunting party?' She wondered, biting at her lip. The cold air didn't hurt as badly as before, her lungs comfortably keeping up with her requests of walking up the small hill where Nahern waited. It took a moment for her to comfortably settle on the snow, looking over the fields of snow tundra.
Her heart sank into her stomach at the sight. Endless dustings of forests, white snow covered fields, in the far, far distance she saw the familiar dungeon door. Probably days away.
"Over a week ago that dungeon appeared, like you humans we as well have been plagued with the dungeon virus." Nahern pushed back the heavy hood of his cloak, shaking his now braided hair back.
"How far away is that dungeon?" Hot tears welled up in Oz's eyes, stubborn raw emotions bubbled up as she tightened her fists. She could run, or maybe grab a ride.
"Maybe if I can clear that dungeon I can find a door to take me home."
"Days. Even at our fastest it would take easily two days to cross the ice there." He motioned then with a hand to the empty expanse of snow between the dusting of pine trees.
"Underneath is the Summer Lake. At the center the ice can barely hold a newborn fawn, much less an adult."
Oz frowned, "Why not follow the trees then?"
"Too many will attract the attention of the sleeping monsters within."
"This is a hunting party! Hunt them." She protested, tears in her eyes.
"There has to be balance, traveler."
She wanted to rip her hair out, the idea of her rat-faced aunt now in her home, throwing out her precious memoirs out made a fire come to life.
"What about other ways? If you understand me and know what a human is, then clearly others have been here. What did they do?"
A cruel smile warmed the elf's face, "How about a deal then traveler?"
[Quest : Pilgrimage of the Saint : Accept the Forsaken Prince's help?" Yes OR No?]
'Forsaken prince?' Oz's eyes flew over Nahern's head, the dialog box flashed into life. She wondered, not liking the sound of that. She needed more information! The cold was biting at her eye again, her hand came up to shield it from the wind.
A gentle hand came up, brushing her fingertips away. He almost looked concerned, trailing his finger over the jagged scar.
"What happened? This is fresh. Even our limited healers can not cure it in such a state."
Oz bit her lip, eyeing the dialog box before looking back to Nahern. "I was attacked when I was in a dungeon. Where I come from, the Dungeon fog corrupts a person's mind. The asshole attacked me in a fit, I got out but..." She shrugged as his fingers felt through the swollen tissue.
"The eye is ruined."
Hearing that made her stomach drop out, almost worse than hearing how far the dungeon was.
A crippled hunter was useless! Without her full sight what use would she be if...when...she got back? The Guild would dump her, without the guild backing her then she couldn't work. She would get arrested and everything would be wasted. Her aunt would win. All those bastards would win.
It was another kick in the gut after a lifetime of abuse.
The spiral twisting in her heart finally broke. She pulled away from Nahern, her hands clawing at her face. An unearthly scream left her lips as she sobbed. She didn't deserve all this abuse.
Falling to her knees, the chill of the snow leached away any remaining warmth from the hot bath. She sobbed into her hands, miserable hacking sobs. It wasn't fair. It wasn't RIGHT!
She worked hard, dealt with all her family's shit, Mr. Smith's grueling hours, broke her back and never complained. For the last ten years she gave every drop of her blood, sweat and tears into harvesting goods and materials, but not a drop of those profits went back into her wallet. In ten years she only leveled up three times. She was late thirties now, no family of her own, a Rank D Hunter. The only thing she took pride in was her home, the apartment coveted by her family.
If misery could be used as experience points, she would rank up three times over. She gripped her chest, her heart thundering.
"Shhh."
Honestly she was shocked the prince stayed through her breakdown, even more so when suddenly the bright sun was shaded away. Nahern knelt down, his rough fingertips brushing back the loose strands from her face. His face was a blurred mess, unable to stop her sobbing. Only his frosty gray eyes were clear, captivating her. He helped her sit up, holding her close to the furnace that was his body. Oz sniffled painfully, soaking up the warmth and odd comfort.
When was the last time she was ever comforted?
"Let us help one another, Traveler. My people need a purpose, and your soul cries for revenge. I could never forgive myself if I allowed you to suffer so helplessly when I can assist your plight."
[Quest : Pilgrimage of the Saint : Accept the Forsaken Prince's help?" Yes OR No?]
The box was back again.
"Yes, humans of your world have come into our world. We aren't sure how they come and go but they have brought weapons to our blood rivals, helping them wage war against good honest people. Forgive my lie, but this is more than a hunting party. They are the survivors of a genocide. Humans brought weapons and our rivals slaughtered innocent villages. We are all that is left of our people this side of the Ravine. They must be stopped. Clearly they have a way back to their world for supplies. Help us, and we shall help you."
[Quest : Pilgrimage of the Saint : Accept the Forsaken Prince's help?" Yes OR No?]
Oz eyed the dialog box, she didn't like killing. But she was a survivor. No matter what it took, she would survive.
"Yes." She said plainly. Nahern smiled again, a true smile that warmed his cold eyes.
"You look nice when you smile." Oz said stupidly, emotionally numb from her tears. He looked surprised at that as he reached into one of his tunic's pockets.
"Remember that. Take a breath."
"What?"
A horrid pain ran through her face, so sudden and sharp she could barely think. She barely realized until she felt a dull pressure, two of Nahern's fingers had stabbed into her eye. Scooping it out.
She couldn't think, her hands instinctively wrapping around his wrist. Not a whisper left her lips as she shuttered from the pain.
"Stay perfectly still." Nahern spoke as if he were asking for her to pass the salt.
Blood dripped down her face, salty and coppery on her lip. Snow crunched under foot as two of his kin walked up, a pair of maids with them. One of the maids dropped to the snow before them, holding a simple wooden box with her head bowed. The other maid held a bowl of melted snow and a cloth. Nahern wiped his fingers clean then opened the box, she couldn't see what was inside. The other two started chanting, their heads bowed as their song filled the winter air.
"Blessed be the Saint." The maid whispered, the others then repeated her words.
Oz's thoughts went fuzzy as she felt something removed from her face. The rational part of her brain told her not to look when something wet hit the snow, not to flinch as the pressure returned.
Something was pushed in. A blue light exploded in her vision.
[Quest : Pilgrimage of the Saint : Contract with the Forsaken Prince Accepted.]
[Gained the Scholar's Eye]
[Gained Passive Ability : Lament : Overflow damage will be turned into experience points]
[Level Up : 10 Bonus Stat Points ]
[New Skill Tree Unlocked : Saint ]
[Unlocked _____ Lv 1]
[Unlocked Blood Lust Lv 1]
She passed out before she could read the rest.