Mr. Sackcloth returns with freshened bedclothes, followed by Mr. Bright carrying the water bucket. While the Rhian goes about making up the straw mattress, the Aeonian unstraps Willow from the wall restraints. "It's all over," he assures her. "Are you sore anywhere? Did you discover anything?"
"Not much," Willow notes as she rubs at her wrists now that they are free. "Only one of them showed anything super-usual, and that was the skeek ... Mr. Fingers, I think he's called. His eyes are odd; they seem like enchanted artifacts more than eyes. So, I suspect they spy through them. The Skeek is completely unaware of it."
Mr. Bright pauses at that revelation, even as he's reaching towards Willow with a damp rag. Mr. Sackcloth is also turning with perked ears to look at Willow. "Fingers?" the unicorn asks. "That is an odd choice. He doesn't exactly get around."
"And ah, the other Vartan, Stitch's brother, isn't a true brother. Also, shows no signs of any modification," Willow notes and shrugs a little. "But as for the skeek, it makes sense because who would suspect someone like that?"
Sackcloth notes, "He doesn't have to get around." He holds up a hard-tipped finger, and says, "The Doctor doesn't know certain details when he shows up. Like how many raiders were lost, and so on. And without being able to hear.. and I don't think you can hear through your eyeballs.. we can rule out eavesdropping. And if range is an issue, he might only be able to see out of Fingers' eyes once he's close enough. It wouldn't tell much, but it would be enough to see if anyone is alive, or panicked or.. something else drastic enough to effect the Skeek. And Skeeks do tend to try and hide from trouble, so it's possible that Fingers would be a good choice for survivability."
"Or he's the only one that needed eye-work," Bright points out. "I don't think he gets his patients with made-to-order injuries, but I wouldn't rule it out either."
"Given he messes with the minds, I wouldn't rule out made to order injuries," Willow notes as she rolls her left hand lazily. "And I am not for blinding him, if any of you had that idea."
"That would give things away," Bright says, but frowns. "Memory alteration.. or masking.. maybe. Certainly getting this patients to fear him, possibly with a combination of showmanship and psychoactive drugs. You don't need magic to condition a fear or anxiety response. But.. what else could that imply? Buried commands? I thought the retainer staff was.. not being controlled to the extent that the Raiders were."
Willow frowns. "I hadn't considered build-in commands," she admits, "But that would require a powerful mind mage. Merely altering memories is simpler than implanting full-on control. But ... really have no idea what their capabilities are."
"We're letting our minds turn against us with unknowns," Sackcloth says, shaking his head. "We can't plan for unknowns. What we do know is that if Stitch's account is reliable, the Doctor knows Life Magic or something related to it.. possibly. He could just be using artifacts and not have magic of his own. Now, if he's using the patients to spy, or.. well.. do anything, I'm pretty sure that isn't life magic. Spirit Magic, I'd accept. Necromancy counts as Spirit Magic, I think."
"It does, sort of. It's an odd branch and usually frowned upon," Willow notes. "And I agree, we can't create too many what-ifs here. We need to go by what we know, and be careful about the rest."
Bright kneels down and starts washing Willow's calves as he seems to consider the issue. "Artifacts don't follow the same classifications of magic that the Mages Guild espouses," he notes. "There's evidence of things working very differently in the past, and the current division of the Spheres is more to do with religious tradition and politics than anything real. So, from our own experiences with the Doctor, I would weigh in on the side of.. if not Necromancy then something Necromancy-adjacent, that is unrelated to the miracle healing. I've never seen the Doctor perform any magic or medicine." He looks to Sackcloth after saying that.
"Can't say that I have either," the Rhian nurse notes. "Any of the ones you interview talk about anything like that, Willow?"
"I don't know how you can clean that without gagging," Willow comments down to Mr. Bright. "And yes, Magic changed at one point, when Nala and her associates decided to ascend and become 'Gods', a long, long, time ago. And I don't remember any of them mentioning any real magic or medicine, outside of Razor, whom said he'd just bring Stitch back if he died again anyway."
"So, Stitch really was resurrected.. or Razor thinks so," Sackcloth nods. "I tend to think that Mr. Razor is someone who knows what death looks like, however. You're from Sylvania, so I have to ask: do any of these men act like zombies.. or partial zombies?"
Mr. Bright keeps washing Willow without complaint.
"No, not at all. Real zombies are quite different," Willow says as she waves her left hand again. "Real zombies feel foul ... and usually smell foul. Most also will have something called a Black Heart within them controlling them, or at least something like it."
"I don't know how to check for something like that," Sackcloth says, and frowns. "An actual zombie organ? If that were the case though, then Stitch shouldn't have been able to tell us as much as he had. No, whatever this is, it can't be expensive, which usually means it can't be complicated."
"Depends. If Amenlichli is involved, it would cost them nothing. Well, save their souls and life," Willow points out grimly.
"So.. the Doctor could be the one controlled with a black heart, and be using some artifact to create slaves," Mr. Bright offers. "Given Amenlichtli's quest for immortality, it makes some sense that she would be in possession of a life-transfer artifact."
"Which doesn't even have to be large," Willow notes, "And yes, I know the power behind a black heart can transfer life too, as much as consume it."
"So, ancient proto-necromancy or similar," Bright says, standing to wash Willow nipples. "What is the best way to deal with one of these black-heart creatures? I assume they're hardier than the typical zombie.. more like a vampire of some kind?"
"You won't like the answer to that," Willow notes and grimaces. "It is more who you need to deal with that."
"A virgin?" Sackcloth guesses. "Or maybe a being stabbed by unicorn horn through the heart? That kills most things."
"You need the Lord of Blackshire, the light of Nala, or the Barsunala to deal with it effectively," Willow admits grimly, as if saying the cure for the plague is across the desert, and you only have a thimbleful of water to take with you. "Or a very skilled life or spirit mage."
"So what about locking it up? Is that an option?" Sackcloth asks. "If we can leave it here while we take its airship.."
"Ever try to hold onto a slug?" Willow asks. "And no, salt won't work on them ... and if you touch it, it will infect you."
"Well, the black heart by itself that is. The host you could imprison," Willow corrects.
"So the heart thing is independent?" Sackcloth asks, still frowning. "It hasn't tried.. the Doctor hasn't infected us yet. We'd know, wouldn't we?"
"It's independent and can move, yes," Willow concedes grimly. "They are nasty creations."
"And no one here is infected with one. I would know," Willow points out.
"So, killing the Doctor would be dangerous, if it means this parasite would just seek out a new host," Bright notes. "Containment may be our only option. If it can see through the eyes of Mr. Finger when close enough.. we can give it something to look at that would let us lead it into a trap, perhaps."
"If it is what is going on here, which we don't even know for certain," Willow points out. "It's just more guesswork."
"But you could tell if you were close enough?" Sackcloth asks.
"Yes," Willow admits and looks ill. "I was taught how by the Barsunala ... and don't look at me like that. The Countess and the Barsunala are ... involved. So, I have met him."
"Well.. this is tricky then," Bright says, and starts pacing the in the confines of the small room. "If the Doctor is one of these super-zombies, we can't act - but in order to find out, we'd have to expose Willow to it. So if it is a black-heart creature, not only can we not act but it will know about Willow. If it isn't such a creature, we'd need to act as soon as Willow gave us the go sign."
"How close do you actually need to be to tell?" Sackcloth asks.
"You can act. Just don't kill the host or make them bleed," Willow corrects. "But really, it is not that likely it is a black heart creature. They are really, really, rare. As for how close, not very at all. Ever have a dream where you feel something is wrong somewhere in your house or ship, or whatnot? It's like that. Sort of like indigestion, but not."
"Hmm, so.. we can try a bait-and-switch," Bright says, stomping one of his hooves. "We let Fingers see Willow every day in the same room. As soon as we know that the Doctor has arrived, we move her to a different one and replace her with a.. decoy. If the Doctor can see through Fingers' eyes, he'll know about the new prisoner, probably demand to see her.. and then we lock him in with the decoy."
"That would probably work," Willow has to admit. "But what do we do about those actually loyal to him? And anyone he has worked on, he could probably kill then and there by undoing the binding between them and their anchor. A kill switch, as it were. He can't just be imprisoned, but also incapacitated, or disarmed ... somehow."
"If he's alive, he can be sedated," Sackcloth claims. "Only the Raiders, Cottonmouth and Bucket should be susceptible to a.. kill switch? And I figured we'd use Bucket as the decoy anyway."
"If he's a zombie, I don't know if he can," Willow frets. "But I don't know what other options we have. And Bucket ... while vile and I wouldn't care about him ... he doesn't look like me."
"In the dark he might," Sackcloth says with a grin. "It all depends one what the Doctor checks first. Of course, if he can detect his patients it wouldn't work. But he hasn't been aware of who has died on raids."
"At this point we just need to decide. What is the worst case? Those that almost died will die. Not great, but is that worse than forever being a prisoner?" Willow has to ask.
"That depends on who is making the choice," Sackcloth says. "Stitch wants out from under the Doctor's thumb, certainly. Razor I'm not so sure about.. you make it sound like he's got some sort of unknown relationship with the Doctor. If we had enough warning, we could probably knock him out beforehand though. Same with anyone we think might be trouble. We can't kill the Doctor, in case that triggers whatever kill-switches there might be. I've heard of spells going off when a Mage is killed - it wiped out Safar in the last war."
"So.. we're still lacking the warning time," Bright says. "We'd need a Raider to be a scout. We should be able to get Stitch to do it."
"That is a risk and can happen," Willow agrees. "And we do need a warning, if possible, yes." She rubs her forehead, around her horn for a bit.
"Only the Raider can leave," Sackcloth agrees. "It wouldn't be much of a warning, but it's still a warning. We'd need to be ready to move. Know our targets and how to get to them - we'll need Stitch to either knock out Razor, or take him to where I can do it. The 'fodder' Raiders shouldn't be an issue. In our zone, there's Cottonmouth and Bucket to watch for."
"Cottonmouth does not strike me as being dangerous to us, but he must be, or he wouldn't be with the retainers," Bright notes.
"Will Stitch even agree to harming Razor in any way?" Willow notes, "And Cottonmouth isn't that dangerous."
"He has to sedate him, not harm him," Sackcloth says. "It's not like we'll be leaving him behind. We can't afford to leave anyone but the Doctor and Bucket."
"And what, let Bucket rape the doctor? There's a mental image," Willow remarks and chuckles.
"That would be quite a trick, unless he had his mop handle with him," Sackcloth says.
"Exactly," Willow remarks. "Well, are we going to try this, then?"
"We still need to hope the Doctor is coming with the supply ship, if we're going to get everyone out of the base," Bright says. "If not, we'll make do with the Rhaktors and however long the Eeee can fly. And a destination."
"I still think heading towards Babel is our best bet," Sackcloth says. "If we're going to crash, I'd rather it not be in the mountains."
"Well, or we wait until he can bring the ship ... but," Willow shrugs a little. "Babel is the best choice, and they are trying to enact laws and not just revenge these days."
"Figure out what it will take to knock out a Vartan and a Rhian, Sackcloth," Bright says. "How long will it take for the prisoners to recover without their daily doses?"
"About a day," Sackcloth notes. "That's why they get daily doses of the sedative. Mind you, it's not enough to knock them unconscious - we wouldn't have to carry them all the way."
Willow nods at this. "Well, we'll want to move fast. So anything we can prep and hide before the time would be a good idea, too," she notes.
"I'll get Stitch to come in," Mr. Bright says. "I can talk to him in here, with Willow. She's both cover and persuasion."
"I am?" Willow has to ask. "Since when does he listen to me?"
"Sit tight, I'll send him," Sackcloth offers, and heads for the door.
"I don't want to sit on anything in here," Willow mutters.
"The beddings are fresh," Bright points out. "Or you could sit on my lap? Unless it's just sitting you aren't keen on?"
"I know what has been done in this room," Willow points out ... and grudgingly sits on the bed.
"I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this," Bright says, taking the stool. "Hopefully we will all make it out of here though."
"Are you really?" Willow asks of Mr. Bright. "You don't seem the sort to really care about another."
"Hmm, I'm relearning empathy," Mr. Bright claims. "It isn't easy. I imagine there is a lot of scar tissue to scrape through. I assume I had it once, at least."
"It is good we will be hopefully getting out of here soon. Otherwise, well, this place would have likely been razed," Willow notes a bit grimly.
"You mean if the Doctor has all the information he needs out of this experiment?" Bright asks. "Or if the Yodhrephath found it?"
"Oh no, those would be kind. I mean the Barsunala. At some point the Countess would probably ask him to retrieve me," Willow points out. "And if he came ... it would get ugly."
"This does not make your Countess seem any less frightening," Bright points out. Then there's a knock at the door before it opens anyway, and Mr. Stitch saunters in and closes it behind him. "You called for me?" he raspily coos at Willow before noticing Mr. Bright. "Oh.. you want to watch?" he asks.
"Oh, you have no idea how frightening she can be," Willow intones ominously. Then the comment from Stitch earns her remark of, "No, you feathered pervert..."
The Vartan pats his chest, and notes, "The feathered part isn't the perverted one. And you are naked. So what's actually going on?"
"Are you willing to drug your 'brother', Razor," Willow inquires, getting to the point.
"Uh, that depends. Are they the fun sort of drugs?" Stitch asks.
"To incapacitate him so we can all escape," Willow explains.
"So.. you don't trust him?" Stitch asks. "Is there more to this plan?"
"He's loyal to the Doctor, so no, don't trust him. We will bring him along, just unconscious," Willow explains. "The only people that will be left behind is the Doctor himself, and Bucket."
"We'll need you warn us of the Doctor's approach, since you can leave the base to hunt and scout," Bright says. "And.. probably to take over the Doctor's airship."
"So ... can we trust you to do this?" Willow asks.
"Now that's a loaded question," Stitch says. "I'd say yes.. but I can't entirely trust myself. If the Doctor kills those of us on borrowed life, what then?"
"Is that worse than being a prisoner/slave forever?" Willow asks. "If he does, then we'll have to kill him directly. The only reason we're not is out of concern doing so might kill all of you as it is."
"I meant, how will you take the airship?" Stitch asks. "It's not easy learning to ride a Rhaktor. If we go down, you'll be stranded or have to make due on the mountain."
"Then we make due if that happens," Willow notes. "The Eeee can fly for help, and the rest of us can walk."
"Well, the Eeee would be dead with the rest of the Raiders, but I see the point," Stitch says. "And.. I suppose my brother would survive, even if he wakes up alone. When are you expecting the Doctor?"
"When you spot him and tell us," Willow notes. "That's one of the tasks we need you for."
"It usually takes five days after a raid before he shows up," Bright notes. "So.. sometime in the next two to three days. We'll need a lookout, so there's time to sedate your brother and prepare a trap."
"Alright, if you promise to get my brother out no matter what happens to me," Stitch says, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Why are you so ... faithful to him?" Willow has to ask. "We will try to get him out, no matter what ... but I would like to know why."
"Because he's my brother," Stitch says, matter-of-factly.
"I wouldn't understand," Bright admits.
"But, you two aren't related," Willow points out. "Parentally."
The Vartan stares at Willow with those giant raptor eyes, and asks, "So?"
"Just saying," Willow notes, then shrugs a little. "I don't understand it either."
"He did save my life, if that helps," Stitch points out.
"Are you sure of that?" Willow has to ask.
"No, but someone brought me to the Doctor," Stitch says. "You Aeonians must have such lonely existences without family."
"You have no idea," Willow says dryly.
"I choose to believe in my brother," the Vartan says. "He shouldn't be tied to this place because 'o me."
"We will get him out too," Willow relents.
"Good," Stitch says. "I will go on hunting detail, to watch for the airship." He then ogles Willow. "And you'll reward me on the airship, won't you?"
"What sort of reward?" Willow has to ask, eyes narrowed.
"Your Countess needs mercenaries, perhaps?" Stitch asks. "I've no love of poodles."
"Probably, but I cannot promise such a thing quickly. Communications have to be sent, and all that," Willow notes. "One of her groups is currently lead by Arkold, if that name has any meaning to you."
"Never heard of an Arkold," Stitch admits. "Odd name for a Vartan. But he leads the.. air force?"
"Jupani, actually. Rough guy, but effective," Willow notes. "I will see what I can do. Arkold leads one of the coast forces and deals with their boats."
"Hmm, boats," Stitch muses. "That'd be a sight t' see. Floating on water.. heh. Unnatural. And of course you'll rain down your affections on me too, right?"
Willow's left ear twitches. A lot. "I will take it as a request," she answers flatly.
"Good enough!" the Vartan says. "Now to seal the deal.. a kiss?"
Willow twitches more. "I am sure Mr. Bright wants to kiss you," she says...
"I want you to kiss me though," Stitch says.
"But ... " Willow says and looks at Mr. Bright. She sighs, stands, and goes and gives the Vartan a quick peck on the cheek.
The big bird blinks. "Not on my cheek," he says, and winks. "But.. I'll take it as an I.O.U. for now."
"Wait, what? Where exactly do you want a kiss?" Willow has to ask.
"Not in front of Mr. Bright," Stitch says, and puts a talon to Willow's lips in a shushing gesture. It may be that the Vartan is insane. Well, more insane that is usual for Vartans.
"Pervert," Willow says into the vartan's finger.
The man squawks a laugh, then heads to the door. "I expect Mr. Sackcloth to be ready when I spot the airship," he says before leaving.
"Sailors," Willow remarks and throws up her hands. "Always thinking with their crotch."
"I suppose it can't be worse than using their heads," Mr. Bright deadpans. "Are you hungry? Do you want to come back to my room, or sleep here tonight?"
"Your room is better than this toilet," Willow says quickly!
"I'll have to carry you then, to preserve the illusion that you are a captive," the unicorn notes.
"Which I imagine you hate so much," Willow remarks, a little bemused.
"Mr. Sackcloth isn't here to do it for me," Mr. Bright notes, but first goes to open the door (since his hands will be full) and to check the corridor. Then he returns to scoop Willow up into his arms. "I imagine Sackcloth would throw you over his shoulder, but mine are not so broad I'm afraid."
"True; you are built like a girl. Put on a dress, and we could be sisters," Willow deadpans as she has to drape her arms around his neck for support.
"What sort of dress?" Bright banters as he carries her up the corridor. There's only Mr. Slither to note their passing, but he does flick his tongue at Willow. Once in the room, he sets Willow back down on the bed.
"Gallesian Maid," Willows claims. It would show off your hips," Willow claims as she stretches out on the bed, slowly.
"I'll keep that mind, should the opportunity present itself," Bright says. "I vaguely recall kilts being comfortable. What would you like for dinner? We have oats, wet oats, and of course oats with mushrooms if you are feeling bold."
"How thrilling," Willow comments, then pushes herself upright. "Oats and Mushrooms," she remarks, "I feel bold, and besides, some flavor might be nice."
"As you wish, mistress," Bright says and bows. "I am but your humble Gallisian maid after all."
"You are developing a sense of humor," Willow points out. "This is worrying. Who are you?"
"I am clearly over-stimulated," the unicorn agrees. "I should endeavor to relax more often and avoid stress."
"Where will you go after all of this?" Willow asks.
"Perhaps I should travel," Bright says. "It would make it harder for me to be abducted I imagine, as opposed to staying in one place for a century."
"It does help," Willow concedes. "Any particular places?"
"Well.. I've spent enough time in Saskanar," Bright admits. "Any suggestions?"
Willow hmms. "Depends. Rephidim is a good place if you like clubs and really weird people," she says.
"Hmm, I think I was in a k'trinzhai club once," Bright muses. "I must still have the game board at home.. if I have a home still. What other clubs do they have? And tea.. they probably have tea."
"They have a weird Goth Club," Willow notes. "Never been, but I heard stories. Given how I look, it is best I did not go."
"I suppose a group that fetishizes death would not be welcoming to an Aeonian," Bright agrees. "But all roads lead to Rephidim, so I may go there to at least see what options are available. After all, it is one of the few places where you can travel the world without leaving home."
"It's more the black fur and such. They would worship me as a God, or something," Willow points out.
"I can see how that could become inconvenient after awhile," Bright says. "Depending on the offerings."
"Quite," Willow remarks and flops back on her back and spreads her arms. Inwardly, right now she really misses having wings ... and being able to hear. "Dinner and some sleep sounds really good right about now," she admits. "Those interviews were exhausting."
"Get some rest then, while I fetch dinner," Bright says. "Getting the mushrooms right can take some time, if they aren't pre-chewed."
"No pre-chewed mushrooms!" Willow quickly blurts out. Her eyes then close, and a minute later, she's snoring.