29. In The Arms Of Mercy
When you open your eyes and see Mercy, yet again, you say the first thing which comes to mind.
“We have to stop meeting like this.”
She looks down at you and you see the first genuine looking smile you've seen from her.
“Shut up.”
You do, and look around. Mercy looks to be half in what you'd consider her 'battle gear' – her arms and legs wrapped in wood. She's holding you, cradled in her arms, which gives you a rather lovely view of her breasts. Seeing them bounce as she walks, seemingly in no hurry to put you down, stirs several memories.
“What happened?”
This time, her smile is somewhat forced. A tightness around Mercy's eyes betrays her worry. “You should have died.”
When your remain silent, she elaborates. “I was in full succubus mode. Complete with full ability-drain. As far as I can tell, you should be dead.”
You arch a scaly eyebrow at her and she hurries on. “Not that I'm upset you're not. Quite the opposite. I just feel like that mind controlling you and trying to suck out your essence is a kinda shitty way to repay you for risking your life for me.”
You continue to watch her for some time, quite content to let her larger frame propel you both through the wood at speed. Eventually, you reach a conclusion you have to voice.
“You got a real bad deal, didn't you?”
This time, it's her turn to arch an eyebrow at you in a silent request for elaboration.
“Your demon half makes your elemental half that much harder, and visa versa. I've seen how the plants alternate between obeying you and wanting to hurt you.”
Mercy flinches as you speak. The silence stretches awkwardly, Mercy refusing to meet your eyes for several minutes, before she mutters “We're here.”
It takes you a moment to understand, but as she gently places you on the ground and starts shedding her bark exo-suit, you start seeing signs of civilisation. The road is cobbled, if vegetation and dirt threatens to overrun the verges. A small shrine to Nire, goddess of the hunt has been set up just off the beaten track, and the smell of an old sacrifice wafts on the breeze.
“Brakenford is just a few minutes away, so if we're going to split up, now would be a good time.”
You look at her curiously. “Do you want to? What were you hoping to find here?”
Mercy sighs heavily and glances away from you. “Honestly, I was going to drain a few NPCs and then move on. I need to find another tree that will accept me before I can find a more permanent solution to my power problem, and I'm not that good at keeping them alive when I... well, when I need to feed.”
you consider this for a little while, both of you stood, unmoving, on the road to Brakenford.
“The world's got a bit more dangerous, since the update,” you eventually say, slowly. Mercy blinks owlishly at you as you continue. “And so far we've been pretty good at watching each other's backs. I've got a place up Imporne, you might be able to find sanctuary there, if you wanted.”
A message popped up in front of you.
You hit accept, and send it winging over to Mercy, who eyes it, warily. “What is this?”
“An invite to my lair. If you want, you'll be part of the group. It's just a few goblins and kobolds right now, but we're building a home for ourselves against the adventurers. Safety in numbers and all that. And it's a fair way from the infected area.”
That seems to finally sell her, and she goes to tap the accept button, before stopping. “And if I don't like it? Can I leave?”
“I won't stop you.” You reply, holding back the information that you're not sure if it's entirely possible. Mercy nods in acceptance and finally accepts.
You scan your fame menu as she watches, bemused.
Your eyes widen at the amount of fame you just gained, and you quickly expand the message to see the breakdown.
You frown. Doubled fame for... whatever this plague is.
“Mercy, what do you know about this sickness?”
Mercy looks away as you look up. It's clear she was attempting to read your pop-up without being obvious. She shrugs at the apparent non-sequitur.
“No more than I've told you. It gets into your mind somehow, stays with you. Makes you go... well. Violent. It starts with lethargy and paranoia, and then evolves into puss filled rage. That's... really all I know. It's claimed a few of my... my sisters, and some bandits out in the swamp. Why?”
Your mouth is very dry and you connect the dots even if Mercy doesn't. “I think it might be a bit bigger than that. The system rewards me for people joining me. It rewards me a lot more if I'm helping them escape the plague.”
Mercy shrugs again. “Look, it's nasty yes, but it's a long way away.”
You turn to her and stare into her eyes, not sure if she's missing the point deliberately or if she's just deluding herself. You find it hard to believe that you've grasped the implications quicker than she, when she's been the one to tell you the relevant information. “Mercy. There is no cure for this, not even death. Eventually, it will spread.”
You finally see her accept the truth, even as she tries to deny it. “What should we do?”
“Prepare.”