Venice Craven

Does ever a week, or for that matter day go past that I do not get myself neck-deep into trouble? And I had been so careful. The gloves, the layers upon layers of clothing - even in the summer. And now? All of it for nothing. The one thing I feared most, the plague.

It had started innocently enough. Aiding the guards and Lord Acerbe at the rocky falls. I released a spell that would cause the man that had been about to flee into a slumber. I had been about to leave when the guards there halted me. And in the time they took to question me, the albino man - the harlot's current thing - woke, and set immediately upon me.

The guards chased, though not in time. My spell, failed. I had not my sword, having lost it to thieves some weeks back after my time in Annwn. The world was against me and Melchoir too so it seemed. I stood upon the edge of rock over hanging the pool and why did I not jump? Fear for the cold water? I can swim a little.. but gods?! How stupid was I? To falter then. There.

And he knew what he was doing too, the grin upon his face as he lay his hand upon my torso, released the spell that opened a wound just as the guard slammed the hammer into the back of his head. Blood spurted from where his head had been, and I was covered. Head to foot. The lower half of my torso burnt from the acid spell he'd released. The open injury coated with his plague ridden blood! The look on the guards face, he knew, and I didn't want to hang around. At that point I did what I should of done only seconds earlier, jumped. Swam down stream a ways then ran.