middaeg | [Closed] March Quest Catch All

Or whatever it is, it's still here. Something is creating this. Even stained as the earth is, something sustains it—and there is no leyline here.

[He shakes his head, the hunger growing sharper. It's unpleasant, but not yet unbearable. This really was a bother. Hubert holds up his palm to create a dim orb of light; as comfortable as he was working in the dark, his nightvision wasn't good enough to go searching for details or clues, let alone anything that might be obscured by the greenery.]

[Hubert starts on his way to the center. The patch was roughly an even shape, and the center was the most likely origin.]

[Edelgard doesn't step back out, but she does raise her weapon higher to light as much of the field as she can. Him being hungry isn't potentially dangerous, after all. She could be driven to frenzy and that would be bad.]

Do...be careful.

[Concern for him hangs in the bond, heavy and unfocused.]

Am I anything but?

[Really, even if the farmlands were generally a safe spot outside the wall, having Edelgard here to take care of any stray creatures while he worked did a lot. He couldn't imagine fighting off something after having been on this patch for a while.]

[Hubert's search is thorough. He even passes over it the first time, so well obscured and largely buried as it was. The toasted grains and nuts does well to delay the curse at first, but after a few minutes, it's grown incredibly distracting. Even a little dizzying, but not dire.]

[But it's not a search in vain.]

Mm. It's difficult to tell under the roots of the grass, but I believe I have found remains.

[Edelgard prowls the edges of the field, a wary eye out for any incoming shades. Thankfully, the night is quiet. It's almost too quiet, yet the buzz of insects and the rush of bats and other nocturnal animals doesn't cease, so there seems to be no predator tonight. Thankfully.

When he speaks up, she perks up, standing on tiptoe to peer into the grass.]

Human remains? Could that be the source?

[Intent? Well, maybe this stranger starved to death. That would track.]

[A little telekinesis pushes aside more dirt and roots. A few pieces of the remains were at the surface, but some seemed shallowly submerged.]

It can't say for certain with a cursory glance, but I see cloth; it's a safe assumption. [Some more poking at the dirty cloth with magic. Even with gloved hands, Hubert sure as hell wasn't touching a curse-giving corpse.]

It's in an advanced state of decay; that would explain the lack of an odor. Between the unnatural plantlife and the recent winter, there's no telling how long it's been here.

[Hubert shakes his head, noting the spot, before standing and exiting the field. He looks and moves as normal as ever, but an urge to eat sharply rises in the Bond before he gains control of it and refocuses his thoughts, repeatedly.] I'll conjure something to unearth it. Spending that long under the curse wouldn't be ideal.

[What to do with the remains after, though? Take them somewhere else? Similarities to dark magic aside, this is definitely a first for him.]

That's a good idea.

[Edelgard keeps here, out of the way, but there's a tugging on the bond mentally.]

Come over here and take a bite to eat first. I don't like this, and you need to get out of the cursed area for a moment. I can feel it beginning to gnaw at you.

[He nods, acquiescing immediately. Hubert takes a seat on the ground when he arrives—curses always were more real than they were illusion, and if it was going to sap his strength for the next several hours, he would conserve it where he could.]

It... is a vexing experience, to say the least.

[The mage plucks off his gloves before he even pulls out the little pouch of food; he'd been handling the afflicted dirt after all, and he didn't want to imagine what might happen if he ingested even a speck of that.]

How are you faring?

I'm fine.

[She's settled down once he gets out of the grass, an arm's length away. Rooting around in her little basket, she produces a coffee cake, offering it out to him.]

Try this? It's made with coffee. Not too sweet.

[...A cake made with coffee.]

You and I have a very different definition of "too sweet," Your Majesty.

[But Hubert accepts it, regardless. Even if it wasn't something Edelgard had brought with his tastes in mind, he would've still reached for it, the intense hunger seemingly hollowing out his stomach.]

[His skepticism is present in his mannerisms as much as it is the Bond. A flicker of intrigue, and thoughtfulness.]

...I would praise it, but perhaps it would be prudent for me to try this another time, when I don't feel like I haven't eaten in more than a day.

[Something about anything tasting good if one was hungry enough. He is eating it, though, and quicker than his usual languid pace.]

[Edelgard watches him eat quietly, sipping at her flash and chewing a bite of her own kind of food. She feels the hunger inside him, and it reflects into her, enough so that she feels like topping off, as it were.]

I'll make a note of the bakery I got it from then. We'll have more in the house another time.

I have some chicken if you'd like something meatier, too.

[She had prepared for this little picnic curse.]

[There's a sharp spark of want in time with how Hubert's eyes dart up—of course he wants it, he's famished, he—]

[Hubert reins the feeling in quickly enough, like all the other little impulses. Gluttony wouldn't abate the curse. Eating was helping... and it wasn't, at the same time. No, that wasn't quite right. More like it only helped so much.]

Some. Eating is a wise course of action, but even a feast couldn't break this famine. Overeating might even harmful.

[But he's still grateful Edelgard came so prepared. She didn't pack these with herself in mind.]

Of course.

[She did pack some of these things with herself in mind, she's not totally selfless, and she still enjoys non-blood meals. Also she hadn't known what to expect here.

Leaning forward, she breaks out the meat and tears it in half, holding it out to him. A full leg, fat and well cooked...if a touch cold.]

This should do. There's more if you need it.

[He murmurs his thanks. Yes, he'd definitely need to conjure something to pick up the remains. Imagining the curse any stronger wasn't an appealing though. And the farmer said this lasted hours?]

[Hubert's thoughts turn pensive again as he eats. The more substantial food takes the edge off the wooziness and makes the desire to eat more easier to control, at least, even if it doesn't strictly abate the hunger.]

We'll need to do something with the corpse. I'm not experienced with curses in either world, so I can't say what would break it. I've half a mind to burn the remains, even just to ensure they can't be used again for ill.

Would burning it lay the soul to rest? If...magic can be based upon intent, and this person was one that starved to death, then maybe that is the source of the hunger.

[It seems as reasonable to her as anything else. Based entirely upon what he's said, but it's mere conjecture at this point.]

[Hubert slightly shakes his head, a mental rumble of uncertainty along with it.]

I cannot say for certain. Perhaps immolation would free it, or perhaps it would anger it further; it could go either way. But, as you say... if our intent is a pyre, then that may suffice.

[Hell if he knows, not without further research into the matter. Hubert idly begins drawing a small magic circle in the tilled earth beside him with the chicken bone.]

That...hmmm.

[She's willing to give it a try. It seems like the best way.]

It can't hurt to try. If it does get angry, we'll have to find a way to put it to rest anyway. Appeasing spirits is more something Mercedes was good at than me.

[Right. If it works, it works, and if it doesn't, nothing changes. He nods, still focused on his drawing.]

Understood. Reluctant as I am to trouble you, might you go request wood and flint from the farmer? I do not wish to expend any more magic than necessary in this moment.

[Magic was a curious thing, in this world. It was will, intent, life and energy all at once. It built up on its own like sediment, and at the same time, came from the caster—it was so many things at once. With how the curse was taxing his stamina, Hubert expected his magic to be similarly affected until it wore off.]

It's no trouble.

[She rises quickly, dusting herself off and looking off towards the farmer's home.]

You get what you need set up, and I'll go get the wood and ways to start the pyre.

My thanks.

[It doesn't take him long to finish the sigil; it's simple compared to his usual ones. Magic courses through it when he's done—it makes the hunger a sliver worse again as it draws from his stamina—and a little creature rises from the tilled earth, a shambling thing of dirt and rock not even three feet tall. Obediently, it marches across the grass to where the remains are, and begins to unearth it from its shallow grave of grass roots.]

[It'll take some minutes, but since elemental did not eat, it cost them nothing.]

[Edelgard returns a few moments later with an armful of food, some flint, and what looks like another basket.

Marching over, she settles it all down at their makeshift picnic site.]

The farmer's wife sends her regards as well. In the form of a roasted pheasant.

[The gloomiest picnic ever held, short of being in a graveyard.]

Mn. Considerate of her.

[And relatively warm still—Hubert could smell it, and it made the hunger pitch again to the point of making him a little woozy. This damned curse was absolutely vexing. But, he's already sitting, so Hubert just closes his eyes until it passes.]

The golem will be done soon. Can you arrange the pyre?

[Don't you mean best?]

It was.

[Edelgard nods and begins arranging the logs in a simple but efficient for burning layout, gathering bits of dried pine from the surrounding area while the golem works.]

[Totally not exclusive concepts.]

[After another moment of resistance, Hubert reaches out for the pheasant basket in time with a pulse of frustration. The golem is nearly done, so he tears off the wing for a quick morsel.]

[The next several hours were going to be irritating.]

When we return home, I may take something to sleep through the rest of this blasted curse, [He mumbles around the fowl. The stubby little golem starts waddling towards Edelgard, the corpse in its arms. It almost looks like a strangely lumpy bundle of roots, with how encrusted the surviving clothing is with dirt to the bones.]

That's totally understandable. I'll make sure to stay near, in case something happens.

[It's the least she can do. This is his show, him and the little creature currently bringing the body to them.]

A pity about the body, but at least it seems to be something as simple as a restless spirit and not some new form of infection.

[At least, she hopes, and she's absolutely stepping out of the way so the golem can set it on the pyre.]

[The stumpy construct lays the remains across the wood with all the grace it can manage. ...Which is not much, but it made an effort. It waddles a couple yards away, giving Edelgard space to work, but at the ready in case something went wrong.]

...Perhaps, but I can only wonder how common this occurrence is. Because of the Cwyld, Geardeas is a land of limited resources; this can't be the first soul to starve. If even half of those souls created something like this? Or other sorts of dead?

[And, as always, his mind is tracking to the greater logistics of a problem. It's a hard habit to break, after all they've been through. Hubert begins cleaning his hands before pulling the gloves back on.]

[Closed] March Quest Catch All

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