Avdren awoke to the sound of birdsong outside the cellar. Sunlight streamed in through the narrow opening, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted. Rubbing his eyes, he sat himself up, fishing in his pack and pulling out the waterskin. His movement flared the cut on his chest, reminding him that his first step was to find a healer. With the gash on his shoulder and now the slice to his chest, he was risking infection or some other issue by allowing them to go unattended. With the copper and silver tabs he had appropriated from the corpses of those bandits, he had plenty of money to find someone in town who could patch him up. Perhaps that herbalist could, or she knew who else he could speak to. The water was refreshing, and he splashed a bit on his face before gathering his things. Beth greeted him with a soft snort, and he gave her the usual chin scratch before hoisting himself onto her. Too bad those men hadn't carried any gold on them. A saddle would be nice. With a gentle press of his heels, he headed the horse towards town.
He rode slowly, trying not to aggravate his wounds more than they already were. He was already covered in blood and would rather not deal with any more. When he entered Elmerton, the streets were nearly empty. He left Beth outside the inn where she could get water from the trough and headed down the side street to the herbalist's shop. The door was open and he ducked inside. The woman let out an involuntary gasp when she noticed his ragged and bloodstained clothing. "Gods above, what happened to you?" She stepped from around the counter and hurried over to look at him.
"Bandits. Are you also the healer here, or is there someone else I should speak with? I don't think I can afford a potion, but I could use some herbs, and maybe assistance with a poultice." Avdren winced as she gingerly touched his chest.
"Yes." The woman paused for a moment, then looked at the gash in his shoulder as well. "I have everything we need. You're lucky; neither of these damaged the muscle too badly. A potion would honestly be half wasted. A good poultice will have you right as rain within a few days. What's your name?"
"Avdren, ma'am." He inclined his head. "I appreciate your help."
She waved a hand dismissively. "My name is Clara. Take a seat over there while I put the medicine together." Avdren did as he was bidden, waiting patiently as Clara bustled around behind the counter and in the back rooms. She came out a few minutes later with bandages and the poultice, setting them on a table. "Take your shirt and cloak off, Avdren, and drop the pack." He complied and gritted his teeth while she pulled off the makeshift bandages and cleaned the wounds before dressing them properly. Several long minutes later, she stepped back with a nod. "Good. That's better. Feel a bit better?"
"Much. Thank you, Clara." He twisted a bit, rolling his shoulders to test his movement under the bandages. "How much do I owe you?"
"Nothing, except you can tell me what happened to you, and you can tell me what these are." She pointed at his forehead before also gesturing to his hands. "Guessing that's where the ink went, I sold you the other day. Why didn't you show me your shoulder then?" She tisked, placing her hands on her hips.
"Bandits found where I was camped. I managed to kill them, thought I wouldn't have if not for your help yesterday." He smiled. "These marks were my experiment, and they work wonderfully. They're magic."
"Okay, good. They won't hurt anyone else. What about your shoulder, though?"
"I was so focused on my experiment, I sort of forgot about my shoulder." Avdren shook his head sadly. "Almost glad they cut me, that reminded me to come find a healer."
"Where did the gash on your shoulder come from then?" She held his gaze, waiting for a response. He averted his eyes and sighed.
"Goblin arrow. Hit me while I was riding away. They attacked the border fort between here and Agrenon." Avdren mentally cursed; he had forgotten about that as well. Those goblins would be a problem when he tried to head south.
"Shit." The woman tapped her chin. "Well, thanks for the information. I suppose I should tell someone. If one group is bold enough to attack a fort, who knows what the others will get up to."
Avdren started to pull on his shirt, but she stopped him. "No. You've got blood and gore all over that thing. Give me a silver, and I'll be right back." Her tone was so firm that he sat stunned momentarily before reaching into the pack and digging around for the coin purse. He dug out a silver tab and handed it over. She pointed at the chair with a clean implication that he was not to move, and left the shop in a hurry. He sat in the silence, inspecting the ink on his hands. The goblins would certainly be a problem, but going farther west to circle them had the potential for other dangers. He would need to buy more ink and herbs from Clara, and search the book for other useful spells to help. He would not be as powerless as the night of the assault. His thoughts drifted to David, and the guilt at what he had done to the man was eating at him. He knew if he had tried to help the man, they would have both died, but it didn't ease the feelings he had about leaving the farmer. Avdren pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed at his eyes, trying to focus. He turned his attention to the bag and pulled out the spell book from Mildred, flipping through it while he waited for Clara to return. He found a few spells that stood out to him as being useful, and since he had no shirt on anyway, pulled out the jar of ink and unsealed it. Dipping a finger into the thick, dark liquid, Avdren began gently tracing the lines of a new spell on the back of one hand, then letting it dry before moving to the other hand with a different spell. When that was done, he looked through the book again until he found more.
When Clara finally returned, Avdren was sitting quietly in the chair, allowing the ink to dry. His hands and arms were now covered in the special spell sigils. "They're beautiful, though a bit strange." She set down the bundle she carried on the counter and moved over, gazing at all the markings. "So these are all magic? It doesn't look like any language I've heard of."
"If this language has a name, I fear it's been long forgotten," Avdren said quietly. "Here, see this?" He held out the spell book to her, gesturing to one of the spells. "Do you recognise this language?"
"Yeah, it's Elvish, I believe."
He nodded. "Wizards write down in a language that works best for them. Usually the common tongue, or elvish. I typically preferred a mix of common and the dragon language. For some spells, it's best to be able to speak the words out loud, though some wizards become proficient enough to cast without speaking. They have enough mental focus to be able to read the words off the page in their head without losing concentration during the casting." A hint of excitement returned to his voice as Avdren began talking about magic. "I discovered the idea for these marks in a different book. It all hinges around this one." He pointed to his forehead. "Once this one was painted on, the specific words of the spells written here looked… different. The two magics react somehow and form these shapes that seem to dance before my eyes above the pages. Once transcribed in the special ink onto my body, I can focus on one of the marks and cast the spell. I don't need to speak, even for non-basic spells. Wizards with spell books have to be able to find the spell they need in their book quickly, especially in a fight or other high-stress situations. I don't need to worry about that."
"Interesting…" Clara smiled and then gestured to the bundle she had set on the counter. "Well, I confess I don't know too much about magic, just herbs and healing. However, your ink looks dry, and you need to get those nasty clothes off. The clothier down the road had some stuff that looked about the right size. Go in the back and get changed. I'm not going to have you mess up my hard work with a nasty shirt and cloak, and you smell like shit anyway. Leave all your soiled stuff back there so I can burn it."
"Yes ma'am." He hurried to the task and found the clothes fit well enough. When he stepped back out, Clara gave a nod of approval. "Why did you not charge me for the poultice? Even if you considered the labor to be free, the herbs shouldn't be."
"Because you overpaid for the herbs and ink I sold you before, and because you did this town a favor by killing a few bandits." She smiled at him. "Plus, you'll need to buy more things from me. The poultice won't need to be changed, but the bandages will, and I'm willing to bet you need more supplies for your special ink."
He laughed and nodded. "You're pretty smart, Clara. I do, in fact, need all of those things. How much?"
"Another silver will cover all of it." She gathered up everything while he packed his things away and dug for a silver tab. After everything was packed and he turned to leave, Clara gave him a wave. "Be safe out there!" He returned the gesture with a smile and headed back towards the inn to collect Beth. A meal wouldn't hurt, and then he had to get moving. The longer it took him to get south, the higher the chance of the slim trail he was following going cold. Avdren's eyes narrowed in an intense stare as he thought about where he was heading. Whatever happened, he had to survive and figure out what to do about the curse.