A Doctor Without Borders

“By the Gods, he is a pain. Don’t you dare try a stunt like that. You will be dead faster than you can blink.” I just nodded, not that I needed a reminder. My neck still smarted. She turned from the counter and headed towards a back door. “Why don’t you come with me. I wasn’t lying when I said I would get you equipped.”

As she neared the end of the counter, she suddenly dropped so that only her head was visible. I hurried along but spared a quick glance. The entire section behind the counter was raised at least a foot. She wasn’t tiny, but she was definitely short. I bet she barely broke five feet. Yet her stature didn’t stop her from stacking on muscle. Robust would be an understatement.

I was living in a fantasy novel. She wasn't a prototypical dwarf, but she was close. How many more races were there? The lack of information was becoming dangerous. I didn’t need another faux pas like this morning with Esper.

“Stand over there.” She pointed to wall with a measuring stick attached. “Almost 3 units tall. Spread your arms.” She looked down at a set of marks on the floor. “About one unit.” She just eyed my arms. “Flex your arm.” She eyed a measuring tape then shook her head muttering something under her breath. She tapped her chin. “You are too tall for a typical Volkski grunt, but you might fit into a garb we keep for Ættarsk women. Those greenskins are tall and slender like you.”

I laughed. “Slender?” I wasn’t ripped, but I did work out some.

She snorted. “I have seen children just breaking their tenth year with more muscle than you. And that was before they started working the mine.”

I shut my mouth. Her forearms were bigger than my biceps.

She rubbed the fabric of my white coat with her fingers. “I can get you a whole new set. It will cost far more than this one, but it will be less if you are willing to trade.”

“Cost me?”

“And by the look of you, you aren’t from around here.”

I shook my head. “No. I am far from home.”

“I bet. And I take it that you don’t know about life debts.“

“I can’t say I do. Though I don’t like the sound of them.”

“Smart.” She pointed to a chair, and I took her invitation. “I am sure you have a story. Unfortunately, you won’t have time to tell it to me. I can’t interfere with the stupidity of the greenskins and furballs”—my eyes must have widened, but she quickly corrected herself—“excuse me, Ættir and Volki. This contract is too lucrative even if—“ She waved it off.

“As I said, I can’t tell if you are blessed or cursed. Somehow you survived a ride down the Æþertorento—that is the river we found you in, by the way. You lived, but now you owe the Pack your life. You can buy it off. Normally a Tier 1’s life—which you don’t need to confirm—is cheap. Even in the worst company, you could pay it off in a week. However, you had the misfortune to have exhausted a [Healer] when her skills were needed most, at least that is what the Pack administrators will claim.”

“Claim? What actually happened?”

“What actually happened was a greenskin mining group got greedy. They opened a seam without support and paid the price. One of their groups got injured. He was on the mend, but he took a turn for the worst. The Ættarsk [Healer] tried to stabilize him, but she was tapped because—“

“Wait.” It had to be her, but I had to be sure. “The [Healer] that you are referencing is—”

“The half-breed?”

Suddenly, reasons for her reaction started to make more sense. “I have a feeling she doesn’t like being called that.” The bronze-skinned woman just smirked in response. “Anyway, I was going to say Esper or half-Ættar [Healer].”

Her laugh again filled the room.

I furrowed my borrow. “What did I say?”

“You sure are respectful for a Human, but both would have gotten you in trouble. Unlike me, you haven’t earned the right to her name, and she feels that she is Ættar, even if they won’t fully accept her. But back to my point. You had taxed her. She healed him, but not fully. He was looking better, but I found this deteriorated this morning.”

“And I owe the Pack for an Ættar?”

“Yes. Typically, you would owe the Ættir for the loss of work or life, but they collectively owe the Pack. So, you take on his debt to them. Of course, that isn’t even the half of it. You see, the Ættarsk [Healers] have to render aid to the Pack when their [Healers] are unavailable. That same day, a Volk needed healing—not that he had any chance of survival. Esper wasn’t capable, and her master couldn’t come in time. Normally, that would have been fine, but when they found out it was because she had been healing you, well…let’s just say that the Pack always gets its pound of flesh.”

“So, I am responsible for him too? Even if he was going to die anyways?”

“Yes, because the Pack can.”

I stared blankly at her. How could this get worse? I somehow woke up in what had to be some type of indentured servitude.

She nodded. “A stupid system if you ask me. We Oresiani don’t abide by it, and therefore, we aren’t beholden to it. It may cost us our lives when we fight with a Warband or a Pack, but I would rather be dead than beholden. Unfortunately for you, Humans in this part seem to be okay with it…”

I cocked my head. “But I heard you say that you are overseeing this operation. If you Oresiani don’t abide life debts, isn’t that a bit--”

I bit off my response before I could offend another person, but she just waved me off. ”Hypocritical? You can say it. In some people’s eyes it is, though I don’t agree with that sentiment. We are in the Wilds, not Oresian lands. And, more importantly, there are riches to be had. This expedition wouldn’t exist without a few sacrifices.”

I eyed the woman warily. I lacked the details, but nothing about this system sounded benign. “Right. Do I have any other options?”

“You could defeat the Alfa and dissolve the pack.”

I clenched my teeth. She found joking with my life far too enjoyable. But I would put up with that sardonic smile if only because she continued to help, which I needed. This reception sucked, but I hadn’t experienced better since waking up on this blasted world.

“Who keeps track of what I owe?

“The Alfa and his [Bookkeepers]. However, no one is leaving here anytime soon without his agreement. Therefore, they handed the responsibility over to me. Your wages will be deducted against your total. If you find a vein of value, then you will earn a cut of its value. I would caution against trying to do that alone. That’s what got the other greenskin in trouble. Not to mention,” pointing at my reflex hammer still tucked in my white coat’s buttonholes, “you may struggle with that hammer of yours.“

“That’s not what this is used--”

She snickered, and I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It felt good.

She gave me her first genuine smile. “Don’t lose that humor. It will take you far with Oresiani.” She nodded to my hammer, “But really, you should really leave that at home. No Oresian will take you seriously, especially not the women.”

I just rolled my eyes.

She laughed again before slapping her leg. “Now let’s get down to business.”

A serious expression came over her. Apparently, our friendly chat was over. “I will issue you a wool sweater, but I think you will be wishing for a heavier coat than what you are wearing in the mine and at night. That will cost you unless,” she nodded at my chest, “you would be willing to part with your current one.”

I looked down at my white coat and scrubs. The coat really was in a sorry state. Trading them was probably the right move, but I had earned this coat through years of school. Perhaps more importantly, these clothes were all I had left of home. “Will the offer be open later if I want it?“

“Yes, as long as they aren't more damaged than a [Tailor] can easily repair.”

“Then I am going to keep them for now.”

“Suit yourself. Wait here, and I will get your gear.” She exited through another door at the back of the room.

I sat waiting, eyes wandering around the room. It was really well done. My eyes stopped on a mining pickaxe hanging on the wall. I had never seen metal with that hue. I stood up and walked closer to better examine it.

Was that wood? I leaned in, inches from the tip of the pick. The material was dark black, but those were definitely grains running along the surface. That had to be wood. The pick was banded with metal engraved with intricate runes that had a subtle glimmer. Was this a prototype? This wasn’t a game. The wood would shatter on rock. I reached up to touch the tip but held back.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” I twirled around at her voice. “Hard not to want to touch it. You can if you want.” It was tempting, but this pickaxe was special. Nothing else hung on the wall. It felt like a step I had not yet earned. When I held off, she nodded, as if I passed some hidden test. “It has been in my family for generations. It has unearthed more riches than many clans combined. I barely had the levels to wield it properly, though I have more hope with the next generation.”

She tossed me my sweater and dropped a pair of boots on the floor by my chair. “Go ahead and put them on. I haven’t had [Appraise] fail on me yet, but it’s always better safe than sorry.”

I pulled the sweater over my head. I moved my arms, raising them above my head. Plenty of room. Itchy, but it would be warm. “It fits.”

She pointed to the boots before moving to grab a quill from a desk across the room. I sat on the floor and slid each boot on.

“How do they fit?”

I stood up and took a few steps. They weren’t sneakers, but they were comfortable enough. Nothing pinched, and my toes didn’t feel squished. “Surprisingly comfortable.”

She wrote as she spoke. “I doubt these will live up to your typical standards. You have an eye for quality. It’s best to keep your comments about what is lacking to yourself. Not all races value craftsmanship.” Had I been that obvious? She finished writing with a flourish. She took a piece of paper and folded it over. She reached for a drawer, opening it and pulling out a knife with a short, dark-silver metal blade. “This will suffice for now. I worry about your ability to put an edge on the standard issue ones when it matters. You can grab a belt with a scabbard on the way out.” She handed me the blade. “With that, you are set. I hope I don’t have to tell you not to shirk your debt.” I shook my head. “Good. I have work to catch up on, and I have spent enough time babysitting.”

Her tone was far too warm to be annoyed. “Thanks…uh…”

She came to my rescue. “Quartermaster will do.”

“Is your name also something I have to earn?” She gave me another sardonic smile. I waited, but she still didn’t supply a name. “Alright then. I do appreciate all the help you have given me. It seems kindness is in short supply around here.”

“And everywhere else, but I didn’t lie when I said that I don’t send men down unprepared. Unfortunately, you are less prepared than most, and there is only so much I can do to mitigate that.” She handed me the folded letter. “When you get to the mine, ask for Dorian. The guards there will point you to the right company. Once you find Dorian, give him this.” I nodded as I memorized her instructions. “And later, if you want to thank me, I imagine you have quite an interesting story behind your arrival here.” She tapped the end of my sleeve right on the location where my watch sat on my wrist. “That might be worth something to some people.”

My eyes widened, and her eyes twinkled at my surprise. I must have revealed it when getting dressed. It was just a watch, a nice one by Earth standards. Which made it what here? An artifact? What if she had seen my pager?

I said nothing more than a small thanks and saw myself out, the entire time questioning my positive initial opinion. She had poked fun at a man that almost casually snapped my neck. She was powerful, and you didn’t get that way by being stupid. She also was…let’s just say, morally flexible. I could not underestimate her.