Angelus

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Screaming. I hear screaming, not too close, not too far. Crying, calls for help, the crackle and pop of a roaring wood fire.

"Where the hell am I?" I groan, pushing myself up, "This..."

I'm surrounded by corpses, young, middle-aged, old. Indiscriminate death. The rot hasn't set in yet, but the smell of blood and singed flesh is thick and sickly, uncomfortably similar to a summer barbeque. Yeah, I'm probably not eating much meat for a while after this.

"Oi, Jako! This one's still alive! The hell're you doing, putting the poor bastard with the corpses?!" A stern voice calls out to the right, a tall bear-like Panoplast man in bloodied, simple linen clothing.

A slightly younger, fresh-faced twenty-something leans back, regarding me with confusion, "Could've sworn...no matter, hey, stranger, sorry about the mix-up, can you stand?"

"Yes, I believe so," I push aside a dead young boy's arm from my leg, then slowly stand, staggering a little, but remaining upright as my vision swims.

"What's...going on?" I ask, coughing a thickened gobbet of blood and saliva up in the vacant spot, careful not to spit on a corpse by accident.

"Fucking Reclaimers, is what," The bear-man growls, stepping gingerly through the rows of dead bodies to help me walk out, "Want what's ours, so they came to take it and kill any poor soul who disagrees. Like the cowardsons have any right to these lands anymore."

I'm just going to pretend like I know what that's supposed to mean and ask Silver about it later.

"Anything I can do to help? I'm a healer," I offer, hoping to trigger a Quest or something that gives me a better idea of what I'm supposed to be doing here.

"We're about to go back in to look for survivors, if you tag along, we can save those who'd have no hope otherwise," the younger man proposes, grim-faced.

Glancing to the window, I smile, "Be happy to help. Lead the way - my memory's a bit fuzzy still."

"And no wonder, that bomb took us all off guard. Lazy cowards didn't even bother to fight us man to man," The bear-man growls, "Reo. What's your name, stranger?"

"Angelus," I introduce myself, taking a few steps towards the burning village with his help before pushing away and making my own way forward, "I can't cast my healing Spell infinitely, and it's not too powerful, so I'll be relying on you to take me where I can do the most good."

"Better than nothing," the younger man sighs, a little impatient, "I'm Kollo, by the way."

I'm tempted to try healing myself to get my legs into working order, but decide against using my MP selfishly. Tough it out. The locals need it more than I do. I breathe, smoke taints the air, reducing the amount I can inhale in one go. Then I speed up, until I start running, the hardier two men keeping pace easily, despite their obvious fatigue.

Our destination looks to be the still-burning remnants of a sprawling village, with what must've been dozens of buildings prior to the aforementioned bomb - a smouldering, smoky crater is just barely visible in the distance, illuminated in the night sky by sparks of colourful magic still crackling in the air above against the bright yellow backdrop of burning homes.

I'm having a hard time figuring out what motive could precipitate such a tragic outcome, especially when a small toddler, their legs burning with blue fire crawling away from the village comes into view, bawling and shrieking in agony. The moment I feel like I'm in range, I rattle off the incantation for Minor Succor immediately, providing some relief to the girl, but the flame still burns at their flesh unabated.

This is all too reminiscent of the vids taken during the Speculator Crisis for comfort.

"Third-grade Cursed Pyrespark Powder, those monsters!" The bear-man curses, "Once it gets ya, there's only prayers to the Gods left for a man."

The child is barely conscious, and utterly delirious, not even registering our presence as she claws her way across the dirt path. It's a pathetic sight that makes my blood boil in anger, NPC or not. Gritting my teeth, I bend down to her, and stick my left arm into the fire, tearing away the charred piece of surface flesh heedless of the soul-cutting scream of anguish while I rapidly cast a new Minor Succor.

The stunt works, but at a cost - the flame has begun burning up my hand in her stead.

"Stars Alight, Angelus, are you mad?!" Reo splutters, shocked at my recklessness.

"No," I deny through clenched teeth. This feels agonising on a level I've never before experienced, like my arm is a candle quickly burning down and melting away, "I can handle it. Get the girl to safety, Kollo. Reo, let's go."

"I-if you're sure," Reo gulps, Kollo wordlessly taking the little girl into his arms with a look of deep respect.

I exhale slowly in a hiss, "I'm sure. Now stop lollygagging, and move, this will kill me before long but there are other people still dying out here I can save before that happens."

Reo inhales, "As you say. Come, the crater will be the worst of it, no doubt."

The pain is only a motivator.

Approaching the blast zone, I feel the cursed flame intensify in response to my proximity. Whether reacting to the ambient magical energy or the source from which it sprang, I don't know, nor do I care. The people that were here when it went off are already dead, reduced to charred skeletons with the dying embers of the same blue flames, and falling apart into ash with every gust of wind.

"I'll go left, you go right, call me if you find someone in desperate need of healing," I instruct him, "If it's only a minor flesh wound, they can rely on time and medicines instead."

"Understood," The middle-aged man accepts the order with no hesitation, and runs off to search.

I hobble along, careful where I step so as to not disturb the remains of any dead that cross my path. I desperately want to hold my outstretched arm close to my chest or with my other, but that would only risk spreading it more quickly - as it is, I can barely feel the remaining flesh of my hand anymore, the bones of my fingers already turning to charcoal.

I follow the cries for help, a few relatively unscathed villagers huddle together outside the remains of their homes the further I walk, until I come across a small gathering of 6 people hesitating in front of a particularly fiery cottage. The loudest, most pained cries are coming from within, alternating between anguished screaming and desperate pleas for help.

"If you're not going to help, then get out of my way," I announce as I approach, drawing attention from the group of spectators to the demise of the man inside.

They gawp at me, "You mean to go in there? When the cursed fire devours your flesh and spirit?"

"Yes," I grunt, moving past them, "Unlike you lot, I'm not a callous coward deaf to the needs of the suffering."

"But Uhmo is-"

"Don't care," I cut the attempt at justifying their behaviour short, "Still going to try."

The front door is spewing flames, as are the remains of the shuttered windows. Not ideal as an entry point, so I circle around to the back, hopping over a short, ramshackle wooden fence. The back door is leaking smoke from it's frame, but there's no visible fire, as of yet. Promising.

I don't fancy my chances of kicking it in with talons for feet, so my other option that doesn't involve searing my only not-on-fire palm to the glowing metal doorknob is to bash through it with my shoulder. I can hardly consider myself the most athletic in this body, but I'll be damned if that's going to stop me.

Taking a deep breath, I step back and tense my legs before charging with a shout at the door, springing forward with a jump at the last step to give myself some extra momentum as my shoulder connects with the wooden planks and carries my whole body through into the veritable oven of smoke. Said shoulder aches like crazy from the impact, but it got me in at least.

Dipping low beneath the blanket of smoke and tucking my face into my shirt as a shitty filter, I shout out, "Hey! Where are you?! I'm here to help!"

The response is a weak cough from the room on my left, where much of the smoke is coming from. Course set, I lope into the open doorway, beholding the collapsed remains of the roof bearing down on an ageing Quirstic man with dull green skin. His naturally tough body likely the only reason he's still alive.

As mentioned, though, I can hardly consider myself athletic, which makes freeing the man's arm from the debris a challenging prospect. Undaunted, I mumble the chant for Minor Succor, returning some of the vitality to the man, but only serving as a temporary solution at best.

Frantic, I look around for some kind of tool that might help, and eye a wooden chair. Struck by an idea, I quickly approach the furnishing, pick it up, then smash it against the floor, snapping one leg partway off, and wrenching it the rest of the way off with my talons a little awkwardly, silently missing the use of my left arm.

Taking the chair leg in hand, I jam it under the debris and push down, using it as leverage. Even assisted by a tool, my measly 5 Strength is not of much use at lifting it out of the way, and only by standing on one leg to use a leg and arm does it slightly lift. Gritting my teeth, I push down as hard as I possibly can for a short burst of power, providing enough opportunity for the old man to pull his trapped and crooked forearm free.

I release the chairleg with a hacking cough, finding it hard to get enough oxygen back into my body to compensate for the effort undertaken, "Go, get out the back door."

"Thank..you," he croaks, crawling to his feet and staggering out the burning building with me following closely behind him.

Exiting from the building, I hack my lungs out, greedily drinking in the comparatively fresher air. The cursed fire has spread to my own forearm, approaching my elbow, my hand little more than a petrified approximation of a hand.

I still have ten minutes left before I'm done here. Inwardly, I pray that this cursed injury doesn't follow me out of the trial. That would be inconvenient, to say the least.

Time enough to help at least one more person, so I leave the recovering old Quirstic and start running back toward the crater to meet back up with Reo.

"Angelus!" Reo calls, carrying a very bloodied young man missing an arm and leg, the blood still fresh but not flowing.

"...Did you cut this man free of some debris?" I ask judging him.

Reo looks guilty, "Had no choice, the building was about to come down on top of us - barely made it out when it collapsed. Can you do anything for him?"

Frowning, I put aside my feelings and start casting my one and only healing Spell repeatedly, until the flesh around the stumps starts to knit together, even if only a little. While the poor bastard's HP has been effectively topped off, there's a limit to what a basic healing Spell can do to mend the existing wound when it's reached this level of severity, regardless of how many times I cast it.

"Get the stumps bandaged immediately, the Spell alone won't be enough to save him if the wounds stay exposed. If he gets an infected wound in this state, he's dead for certain, and there'll be nothing I can do about that," I instruct, "Are there any others that way?"

Sadly, he shakes his head, "Too late for them. All we can do now is retrieve the bodies and treat them right."

I sigh, "Alright. Get going then."

"What about you? That fire isn't going to just go out..." Reo trails off then glances at the wounded man in his arms.

I glare daggers at him, "Don't even think about it. I made my choice - I don't regret it."

Ashamed, he avoids eye contact, "Y-yes. Sorry."

Reo gulps down some saliva, "Thank you...Angelus. You're a good man. We'll remember what you did here today."

I chuckle, "I was already written off as dead. Come what may, I won't linger here long."

The bear-man gives me a look expressing numerous complicated emotions, "Even so. Thank you."

Reo turns and jogs off down the main road out the village, not sparing a second glance back to me.

With a little effort, I lift what remains of my left arm, observing it with morbid curiosity, then taking a seat at the crater's edge. Awaiting either my death or the end of the Trial.

IdleFancy

Winfrey next. Coming up with 4 Classes and 4 distinct scenarios that tie into the worldbuilding for this is tiring work, let me tell you.