Part 1: A Patch Too Perfect
The Dawnbreakers trudged deeper into the forest, the air thick with the scent of damp leaves and pine. A few minutes later, Mira's sharp eyes caught a glint of green. "There," she said, pointing to a dense patch of Spider Leaf herbs, their spiky, web-like leaves shimmering in a rare beam of sunlight. The plants clustered tightly, their roots knotted in the soil, untouched and thriving. Lila's jaw dropped. "Holy hells, that's a haul," she said, hefting the shovel. "Never seen a patch this big and pristine. Alright, one shovel, so we take turns. Dig carefully, roots and all."
Greg nodded, his crest pulsing faintly under his robes. The party lined up, Lila digging first, her strong arms scooping out a plant with ease. "The guild's gonna love this," she said, grinning. Mira went next, her movements swift and precise, while Tomas muttered about soil quality, nearly dropping the shovel. Greg waited his turn, eyes darting around. The forest was crawling with ghosts five times more than in the kingdom and he wasn't about to let them catch him off guard again. The same ghosts are still stalking him, the man with a knife in his back, the woman with a hollowed stomach, and the headless child drifting nearby, their silent stares chilling his spine. Stay focused, he thought.
When it wasn't his turn, Greg scanned the trees, the hairs on his neck prickling. Something felt wrong. The air grew heavy, almost sour. Then he saw it, black spores, tiny and shimmering, rising from the soil where Mira dug. Each scoop released more, curling upward like cursed smoke. His stomach twisted. What the hell is that?
"Stop!" Greg shouted, his voice cracking. "Everyone, pack up! We gotta get out of here, now!"
Lila froze, shovel in hand, her brow furrowed. "What's got you spooked, priest?"
"Just move!" Greg urged, waving his hands. "Grab your bags, let's go!"
Mira dropped the shovel into her pack, her eyes narrowing but trusting his urgency. She slung her pack over her shoulder. Tomas fumbled his notebook, nearly tripping as he scrambled to follow. Lila shoved the herbs they'd collected into her bag, muttering, "This better be good, Greg." The party hustled away, leaves crunching underfoot, until they reached a clearing a safe distance from the patch.
Panting, Lila planted her hands on her hips. "Alright, talk. What's the deal? We just left a goldmine back there."
Greg caught his breath, pointing toward the patch. "There were… things coming out of the ground. Tiny black particles, floating up every time we dug. Like the soil was spitting them out."
Mira frowned, peering back toward the patch. "Particles? I didn't spot a thing. You sure about that, Greg?"
"I saw them," Greg said, his voice firm but shaky. "I don't know what they are, but they felt… bad. Like the air got colder, heavier. I think the herbs might be affected by something under the ground."
Tomas adjusted his glasses, his face paling. "Black particles? Could be some kind of contamination… maybe magical. If it's tied to curses or undead, we can't risk turning those herbs in. The guild would have our heads."
Lila's hand tightened on her greatsword, her voice low. "You're saying we found the motherlode, and it's useless? Great. Just great." She sighed, looking at Greg. "Are you sure about this, priest? Nia used to see weird stuff too, but this sounds new."
"Not totally sure," Greg admitted, rubbing his neck. "It's my first time seeing anything like it. But it's not right. We need an appraiser to check these herbs before we hand them over."
Mira nodded, her tone calm. "Nia'd get those feelings too, ghosts, omens. If you're seeing something, I believe you. But we're screwed if we don't get clean herbs."
Tomas scribbled in his notebook, muttering, "If it's magical contamination, it could spread. We need to be careful."
Lila squared her shoulders, her voice firm. "Fine. We'll find an appraiser in town. But we have to restart and find Spider Leaves, clean ones. Let's keep moving, find another patch. Greg, you see more of that weird shit, you yell before we dig, got it?"
"Got it," Greg said, his heart still racing. The ghosts hovered nearby, the woman with the hollowed stomach staring at the ground, as if pointing to something hidden. What do you know? Bro, I have no time to dig the ground now, he thought. He needed to talk to her, figure out her story for Purify. But for now, the Dawnbreakers needed herbs.
Part 2: Taint and Triumph
The Dawnbreakers trekked on, the forest's shadows lengthening as the sun dipped low. Greg's ghosts trailed him like unwanted shadows, but he pushed them from his mind, focusing on the hunt for clean Spider Leaves. Mira's sharp eyes paid off again a cluster of small patches, not one big haul, but scattered close enough to make it worthwhile. "Over here," she said, pointing to a trio of modest bunches, their spiky leaves peeking from the underbrush. "Not a jackpot, but it'll do."
Lila grinned, wiping sweat from her brow. "Better than nothing. Let's make it quick, the sun's not our friend out here." The party dropped to their knees, the single shovel passing hands. Tomas dug first this time, his awkward scoops drawing chuckles. "Easy there, scholar," Mira teased, nudging him. "You'll bury the roots deeper than you dig 'em up." Tomas flushed, muttering about "optimal angles," but even Lila cracked a smile. "Keep it up, Tomas, you're turning this into a party, not a quest."
Greg joined in, his turns steady, he has done it previously before in his backyard once after he hands the shovel to Mira. She smirked, her dagger twirling idly. "Surprise a priest like you know how to dig." By the time they finished, their packs bulged with enough Spider Leaves to complete the quest. Lila clapped Greg on the back. "Not bad for a temple newbie. Let's head home before the dark gets ideas."
They reached the kingdom gates just as twilight painted the walls orange, the air buzzing with evening vendors. First stop, the appraiser's shop, a cramped stall crammed with vials and dusty tomes. The appraiser, a wiry old man with spectacles perched on his nose, peered at the tainted bundle Greg slid across the counter. "Contaminated, you say? Bah, sounds like priest nonsense. Herbs don't just get 'tainted' . I have never seen something like that before..."
Lila leaned in, her voice firm. "It's not nonsense. We dug them up, and Greg, our Priest, found out that there's black stuff coming out of the ground. Check it before we hand it to the guild in case the herbs get affected by that."
The appraiser snorted, adjusting his spectacles. "Fine, but it'll cost you. One gold per appraisal. No haggling, take it or leave it."
Greg's eyes widened. "One gold? For a quick look? Come on, we're not rolling in coins here."
"Rolling or not, that's the price," the appraiser snapped. "You want my expertise, you pay for it. Or walk away and risk poisoning half the town."
Lila sighed, fishing a coin from her pouch. "Do it. We're not leaving tainted junk for the guild." The appraiser snatched the gold, muttering under his breath as he waved a glowing crystal over the herbs. His face drained of color, eyes bulging behind his lenses. "By the gods... it's true. Dark taint, deep in the roots. Where'd you get these?"
Lila shrugged. "Not far from the kingdom. Edge of the forest, just a short hike."
The appraiser bolted upright, yelling for his assistant, a lanky boy who poked his head from the back. "Boy! Grab my kit! We're hitting the market before it closes. Gotta appraise every Spider Leaf or fatigue potion still out there." He turned to the party, voice grim. "If this spreads... It'll be a nightmare. Hope I don't find more."
"Wait," Greg said, holding up a hand. He pulled a small bundle of tainted herbs from his pack, separating them into two piles. The party watched, curious, as he focused inward. "*Heal*," he thought on the first pile, a soft light washing over it. Then, "*Purify*" on the second. The glow cleansing the air like fresh rain.
The appraiser's jaw dropped. "What in the?"
"Appraise these now," Greg said, sliding the treated piles forward. "See if it worked."
The old man hesitated, then waved his crystal again, his mutters turning to gasps. "Clean... both piles. The taint's gone, like it never was." He looked at Greg, awe mixing with his gruffness. "Lad, that's a miracle. Now I know how to fix this mess if I find more. Thank you sincerely."
Lila nodded sharply. "Good. We're heading to the guild now. No time to waste." Without another word, the party rushed out, weaving through the evening crowd toward the adventurer's guild. Tilda was at the counter, her clipboard in hand, when Lila spilled the tale, tainted herbs, black particles, the appraiser's panic.
Tilda's face hardened, her eyes flashing. "Tainted potions? That kind of poison, tragedy waiting to happen, could kill half the guild." She grabbed a brass bell from under the counter and rang it hard, the shrill clang slicing through the hall's roar. Conversations died, mugs froze mid-sip. Newbies blinked in confusion, but veterans snapped to attention, crowding the counter like hounds on a scent.
"Listen up!" Tilda barked, her voice carrying like a whip. "Emergency! Tainted spider leaves are circulating. Anyone who's bought fatigue potions or raw herbs in the last week don't touch 'em. Not a sip, not a sniff. Wait for the guild appraisers to clear 'em. Spread the word, and if you see suspicious stock, report it. Move!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some grumbling, others nodding grimly. Lila turned to Greg, her eyes sharp with respect. "You just saved asses tonight, priest. Let's turn in our clean haul and earn those points." As the guild buzzed back to life.
Part 3: Whispers in the Night
Tilda stamped the quest form with a thud, sliding a small pouch across the counter. "Five points for the clean haul. Not bad for a first run." She added a few copper coins as bonus pay for the alert. Lila pocketed the lot, nodding thanks, while the party dispersed into the guild's evening buzz.
Greg stared at the meager handful of coppers in his palm, the coins barely glinting under the lanterns. This? For a whole day of digging and dodging spores? It wasn't enough for a night at the inn, let alone ditching the temple for good. He sighed, pocketing them. "Back to the Church it is," he muttered, waving goodbye to the Dawnbreakers. Lila clapped his shoulder. "Solid work, priest. See you tomorrow, quest board calls." Mira smirked, Tomas waved awkwardly, and Greg trudged out, the kingdom's gates looming like a reluctant hug.
That night, the temple was a whirlwind of worry. Priests and priestesses hustled through the halls, carrying tainted herb samples and brewing antidotes by candlelight. Whispers of "dark mana" and "guild alert" bounced off the stone walls. Greg watched from his doorway, arms crossed, feeling oddly detached. Everyone's freaking out like it's the end times, he thought, slipping into his room. The cot creaked as he lay back, staring at the ceiling. Why wasn't he more worked up? Then it hit him, he didn't have anyone important in this game. No family, no friends just him, his spells, and a bunch of ghosts he couldn't even Purify yet. If this was a game, I'd be grinding side quests like a maniac. But here? It's just... stuff happening.
As sleep tugged at him, a sharp scream ripped through the hallway, raw, choking, like someone drowning in their own throat. Greg bolted upright, heart slamming. "Divine Shield," he thought, a faint glow shimmering over him. He yanked open his door, robes flapping, and sprinted toward the noise.
The infirmary was in chaos, two priests and a priestess sprawled on the cold floor, coughing up thick black blood that pooled like ink. Their faces were ashen, veins bulging dark under their skin. A circle of priests and priestesses knelt around them, chanting in low, urgent tones, hands raised in futile prayer. "Hold on, brothers the Light will come," one murmured, but the injured convulsed, gasping.
Greg hung back in the shadows, his gamer instincts kicking in. I should be in time. He focused on the first priest "Purify". A soft light washed over the man, the black blood slowing to a trickle. The second priest, another "Purify", his coughs easing to ragged breaths. The priestess last, her body relaxing as the taint faded. They stilled, color creeping back to their faces. The chanters blinked, confused, as the injured groaned but breathed steady.
Greg exhaled, turning to slip away. Crisis averted. Back to bed. But a soft voice stopped him cold. "Greg?"
He whipped around, nearly jumping out of his skin. Elara stood right behind him, her golden hair loose, blue eyes wide in the dim light. "Woah! What are you doing lurking there?" Greg asked.
Elara tilted her head, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "I was curious. You were watching from afar, then... they stabilized. What were you doing?"
Greg's face heated, his mind racing. Did she see the spells? "Uh, just... looking from afar, just a coincidence they heal up. How long were you standing there?"
She didn't answer, just smiled wider, her eyes twinkling like she knew a secret. Greg sighed, rubbing his neck. "Night, Elara. I'm going to get some rest." As he brushed past, his heart muttered, No point overthinking. It's not like I did anything wrong, just helped.
Elara watched him go, her smile fading to a thoughtful frown. She glanced at the injured, now stirring groggily, being helped to cots in the infirmary. No trace of demonic aura lingered in the air, no foul rot, no shadowy pulse. "Elder Torin was wrong after all," she whispered to the empty hall. The priests murmured thanks to the Light, oblivious. Elara's gaze softened. "At least that's one less shadow in the night."
Part 4: Hands of Light
The next morning, Greg was stopped at the main entrance of the church, just as he was heading out for the guild. A young priest, his robes rumpled from a sleepless night, grabbed his arm gently. "Greg, wait. You're needed in the infirmary. Follow me, it's bad."
Greg's stomach twisted, but he nodded, trailing the priest through the halls. The infirmary ward was a sea of suffering, thirty people sprawled on cots, some moaning, others staring blankly at the ceiling. Several wore the white robes of the Temple of Light, their faces pale and slick with sweat. The air reeked of herbs and blood, the low hum of pained breaths filling the room.
The priest sighed, rubbing his eyes. "This is not the only ward. There are six more like this. Most of our priests and priestesses are out cold, they've been up all night fighting. We need every help we can get."
Greg whispered to himself, Oh well, Elara's already seen my secret, but she hasn't spilled it to the others. Lucky break. He nodded to the priest. "Got it. Thanks for the heads-up. I'll handle what I can."
He moved through the wards methodically, prioritizing the worst cases first, a merchant with blackened veins snaking up his arm, a guard convulsing with fever. For each, Greg knelt close, placing a hand on their shoulder or forehead, murmuring a nonsense recitation, "Uh, Light of the Goddess, fix this mess, amen or whatever is appropriate" Then, in his mind, "Heal." Soft light flowed from his touch. The patients' breathing steadied, color returning to their cheeks. No one batted an eye, the chants sounded holy enough.
By noon, he'd stabilized the critical ones. His stomach growled, so he grabbed a quick lunch in the dining hall with the same watery soup, but it was different after the morning's grim work. Back in the wards, a few rested priests and priestesses had trickled in, their faces drawn but determined. One priestess laid hands on a coughing child, her voice soft in prayer, sweat beading on her brow despite her own fatigue. Greg paused, watching. These folks... they just keep going. No complaints, no breaks. He wondered what ran through their heads. Do they hear their own doubts? Or is it all faith?
After healing three more patients, Greg figured he'd done his part. "Enough for now," he muttered, slipping out to the adventurer's guild. The walk felt heavier, the kingdom's streets buzzing with whispers of the taint.
The Dawnbreakers were at their usual round table, heads bent over Tomas's notebook, his finger tracing frantic notes. Lila looked up as Greg approached, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "Hey, priest. I'm surprised you are here, everything okay?"
Greg slid into a chair, rubbing his neck. "Afternoon. Sorry I'm dragging. Temple called, and had to help with the mess."
Lila waved it off, her voice warm. "Don't sweat it. Tilda filled us in, the tainted stuff hit hard last night. You're a hero for spotting it early."
Greg blinked. "She did? I figured you'd be pissed I bailed on the meet-up."
Mira leaned back, smirking but kind. "Nah. We know temple life. Nia's had the same drill, duty calls, no questions."
Tomas nodded, pushing up his glasses. "Yeah, and you're here now. That's what counts."
Greg exhaled, a grin creeping in. "Cool. Enough guilt trip, what's the huddle about?"
Lila tapped the notebook, her face turning serious. "The taint shorted the herb supply. Temple of Light's on lockdown no priests or priestesses straying far from the kingdom. They need everyone for healing. Means parties like ours can't chase big quests. We're stuck with local stuff."
Tomas chimed in, voice shaky. "We've been brainstorming what we can handle without you. Safe runs, maybe gathering near the gates, nothing deep in the wild."
Mira shrugged. "Sucks, but it's smart. Can't risk losing our healer to some goblin snack break."
Greg sighed, shoulders slumping. "My bad. I can't help much on that front. Temple's got me tied up." He shrugged, forcing a half-smile. Great. Just when adventuring was getting fun.
Part 5: Shadows of Choice
Greg leaned back in his chair at the guild, watching Lila, Mira, and Tomas huddle over Tomas's notebook, their voices a mix of urgency and jest. Lila pointed at a map, Mira tossed in a quip, and Tomas scribbled furiously. The sight tugged a smile onto Greg's face, unbidden. Just like late-night raids with the old crew, he thought, a pang hitting his chest. Back then, MMORPGs meant respawns and loot. Now? He was stuck in a brutal world with no save points, just ghosts and now it's tainted herbs.
Lila caught his grin, her brow arching. "What's with the quiet, Greg? You're part of this mess, speak up. Got any bright ideas?"
Greg blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, me?" He rubbed his neck, mind racing. "With all this taint going around, people are dropping left and right. Thugs might see it as open season y'know, looting, scams, worse. We could patrol the kingdom, keep things safe."
Lila nodded, her eyes sharp. "Not bad. Keep us close, and the streets could use eyes right now."
Mira leaned forward, her dagger twirling idly. "Agreed. Chaos like this? Pickpockets and worse crawl out of the alleys. We'd be doing some good."
Tomas hesitated, pushing up his glasses. "I… don't know. Patrolling sounds safe, but there are forces we shouldn't touch. Thieves' guilds, dark cults, assassins, they're not goblins. If we cross them without kingdom soldiers or paladins, we're asking for trouble."
Greg's stomach sank. He's right. This world wasn't just monsters and ghosts, it was humans with knives in the dark, greedy merchants jacking up prices, rapists lurking in shadows, cults chanting to gods that didn't answer. Way scarier than a goblin camp. He frowned, second-guessing himself. "Yeah, maybe patrolling's too risky. We're not exactly high-level. But the forest? That's no picnic, it's great if spores, undead, I could help but if there are other kinds I can only heal you guys up."
Lila laughed, a short, gruff sound that cut through the tension. "The more we sit here thinking, the more our gold dwindles. I say we patrol. Local, low-risk, and we keep the streets from turning into a free-for-all. Everyone in?"
Mira gave a quick nod, her smirk approving. Tomas sighed, closing his notebook. "Fine. But if we spot a cult, I'm running." Greg managed a half-smile, nodding despite the knot in his gut.
Lila stood, stretching her arms. "Settled. If Greg's stuck at the temple tomorrow, we'll do herb gathering safe stuff. But if you're free, we patrol the roads. For now, rest up. Meet at dawn, guild entrance." The party split, Mira tossing a quick wave, Tomas muttering about patrol routes.
Greg wandered the kingdom as dusk settled, the streets emptying as torches flickered to life. He paused, staring at the towering castle walls, their stone gleaming under the fading light. Nobles and royals up there, sipping wine, probably nothing to worry about. He wondered if their world was as grim as the streets below, where hunger and fear clung like damp rot.
As darkness deepened, more apparitions flickered into view shadowy figures, some maimed, others weeping silently. Greg kept his eyes down, avoiding their gazes. No eye contact, no trouble. He'd learned they didn't sense his gift unless he engaged.
A sharp gasp broke his thoughts. In a dark alley, a figure slumped against a wall, panting heavily. They yanked an arrow from their thigh, blood spurting before they tied a cloth to stem the flow. Male? Female? Friend or foe? Greg couldn't tell in the dim light. He pulled his robe's hood low, heart pounding. No clue who they are, but XP's XP. Keeping his distance, he focused "Heal", then again for good measure. The figure's panting eased, their silhouette steadying.
Greg turned to slip away, but a prickle ran down his spine, someone watching. He ignored it, hurrying back toward the temple. Not my circus, not my monkeys, he thought, the ghosts trailing him like silent judges in the night.