Penance

[Logic]
The shrine is still standing. This will be written down as a success.

[Perception]
Four soldiers, each of them panting from effort, one sitting. No visible injuries.

[Physical Instrument]
Moving heavy stones is hard work.

You finish hefting the last of the branches off the path and march back to the others.

[Endurance]
Your hand is bleeding. You must have caught it on something.

[Conceptualisation]
Was this assignment a punishment for not attending prayer? Is it penance to send a medic on a repair task?

[Perception]
Heavy stacked stones painted with butterfly symbols, one is carved into an offering bowl.

A balding cleric robed in blues, whites, and purples is tying colourful ribbons around this sad, decayed wayside shrine. He stands out too much.

[Logic]
Inspect the wound, irrigate, dress-

[Endurance]
Not now. You’re exhausted. A cut can wait five minutes. You aren’t made of paper.

[Esprit De Corps]
You take a seat on the floor with the soldiers and joke with them about having to perform such a menial task. You haven’t met these men before, but you know you can trust them. Good soldiers doing good work.

[Empathy]
One of the younger soldiers won’t look at you. He might be nervous about danger in the forest. You should make sure he is doing alright later.

[Endurance]
The wound on your hand is throbbing painfully now. It’s not throbbing along with your slow heartbeat.

[Logic]
The feeling is unexpected. One finger-width laceration to the palm, not deep. The sensation is external to your body.

[Perception]
You become aware of movement nearer the shrine itself.

[Reaction Speed]
Quick. The cleric is casting something. His arms are raised. Hands golden-white light. Healing magic!

There is enough time to escape.

[Electrochemistry]
Run! Now! This is going to hurt!

[Rhetoric]
No, stay where you are. There are too few people.

If you run now they’ll all see. There will be questions.

This is survivable, probably.

[Logic]
Questions are easier than-

[Reaction Speed]
Too late.

[Endurance]
Every muscle in your body tenses up. A terrible wall of light washes over you. Into you.

Tendrils of healing magic silently penetrate your skin, your eyes, your wounds. An unwelcome heat forces it way through your body.

Pain flares. Then – eventually- recedes.

[Perception]
All you see is light; brighter than any summer’s day.

The men around you cheer for the cleric. Joyous laughter and thanks for such a blessing on you all.

[Composure]
You manage to hold yourself in a seated position without collapsing, just barely.

[Endurance]
You’re not dead. You feel every nerve panic. Your vision starts to return.

[Logic]
You assess the damage by feel. Still survivable with treatment. Probably some internal trauma.

[Electrochemistry]
Lots of internal trauma.

[Composure]
You steady yourself and try your best to mimic the others. Thank the cleric for his good work. You start speaking an excuse to go for a walk.

[Endurance]
You cough hard mid-sentence. It’s wet and warm.

You keel over forwards and cough a few more times. There’s no hiding it.

[Perception]
The cleric is closer now. He’s leaning in and asking what’s wrong. The soldiers have moved, too, they’re surrounding you.

They’re offering you something but you can barely hear them over the ringing in your ears. It’s a small vial.

[Logic]
That’s a healing potion. Standard response to internal trauma.

[Endurance]
You cough again. Harder, more painfully. Your chest feels like it’s being torn apart.

[Rhetoric]
There’s no way out of this one now. If it was intentional, they won’t let you leave. If it wasn’t, denying the potion is too suspicious.

If you spill it, the cleric is just going to kill you with healing magic, even if he means well.

There’s a chance it’s not a healing potion. Drinking it is your only real option here.

[Perception]
You look up for a moment at the soldier holding out the vial. The young one. He looks afraid; his hands are shaking.

The cleric’s face might be shock, concern, worry? You can’t tell.

[Endurance]
You take the vial in a quivering hand and down the liquid in one gulp.

As soon as it touches your teeth, your throat, it burns. Liquid fire mixed with broken glass. You’re falling.

[Perception]
Colourful ribbons dance in the trees above you. And then, blackness.