Wintergreen wiped the tears off her face and somehow managed to offer a genuine smile to the man striding towards them. "Welcome back, Wyck!"
"Thank you, Wintergreen," said Wyck self-importantly. He came up to Brunhild and looked at her leg. Her face had gone pasty white.
"Really, it's nothing. Just a scrape," coughed Brunhild, trying to stand in such a way that the pool of blood at her feet wouldn't be so obvious.
"You need a spell of Greater Healing," said Wyck.
"No, really," insisted Brunhild, "It looks worse than it is, haha." Her laughter was so unconvincing it was as if she had dryly read out the words "ha ha" from a script.
"Now is not the time for your usual bull, Wyck!" said Verano angrily. "Just give her the spell!"
"I'm... fine..." said Brunhild, before fainting.
Wyck raised his eyebrow, inspecting Brunhild's comatose form, before looking back to Verano's angry face and Dandelion and Kaergat's worried ones. "Would that it were so simple," said Wyck.
"What?" said Kaergat.
"I could give you the spell for free, but to do so would cause greater harm to your souls than could ever come to your bodies."
"What?" repeated Kaergat.
"You see, to truly honour the blessing of Plutus, there must be an equal exchange. Money is sacred. To give something away for free is to say that I am worth nothing. And as a cleric of Plutus, that would be the same as saying that Plutus is worth nothing! And to not see the worth in the god of wealth means not to see the worth in your own soul! Do you not see the problem here?"
"What?" said Kaergat.
"Brunhild's bleeding out! Just name your price, man!" yelled Verano.
"One hundred and one sovereigns," said Wyck.
"That's five times the going rate!"
"Are there any other clerics here?" asked Wyck.
"I'll pay!" cried Wintergreen.
"No, Winter! That's probably what Chekhov pays you in a year! Wyck, this is opportunistic bull dung and you know it!"
"Opportunities are but blessings from the great Plutus. Not to take an opportunity when it presents itself would be sacrilege."
"Fifty sovereigns, then!" shouted Verano.
"Would you haggle with God?"
"No other cleric would do this!"
"As I said, do you see any other cleric here?"
"Um..." came a quiet voice. "I'm a cleric."
Everyone went silent and turned to stare at the new arrival.
She was an elf, thin and slight even by elf standards. Her hair was blond and she was dressed all in white, with a golden sunburst symbol around her neck. She looked quite nervous.
Suddenly the spell was broken as Dandelion wailed, "Please help my friend!"
"Of course!" cried the stranger, who sprang into action. She knelt in the pool of blood before Brunhild and spoke in clear, bright words: "I invoke the power of the Light! Bless this soul, and shine upon her always!"
White light shone from the elf's outstretched hands for a few seconds. It was so bright it was hard to see what was happening, but when the light died away, Brunhild's leg looked as good as new.
The lady stood up and brushed herself off, which only served to smear more blood over her white robes. "I don't know your god, mister, but he sounds like a... like a... a big meanie!"

YOU ARE READING
Draconic Sphere Ω
FantasyBrunhild came to Aqua Profunda to escape the suffocating confines of dwarven clan and family life. There she found the adventurer's guild Feenschwanz, and new friends: Kaergat, also a dwarf and more to the point, an overly sober runic mage; and Dand...