Another day of chump work, with an interesting finish

The Guild is largely the same as you left it yesterday. Some of the same people are around, drinking and chatting with each other before they pick up a job for the day. Hild, your green-haired and apparently devil-possessed Guild representative, is speaking to another adventurer at the moment, so you wander the room aimlessly for a little while to wait. The adventurer talking to her is a bunnykin, a fact only revealed by the two long, rabbit-like ears extending out from the specially-designed holes in the helmet atop their head. They’re also wearing a polished steel chestplate and matching gauntlets over leather padding. In their hand is an impressive silver {if@ sword = true}sword{elseif mace = true}mace{elseif spear = true}spear{endif}. Their boots are black leather, with a unique pattern sewn into them. I wonder if that’s just for looks, you think, or if it’s some kind of enchantment thing. Are enchantments on items and gear a thing? As you look over the adventurer, Hild notices you and actually gestures for you to come over.

“Time is of the essence, but do remember to be careful out there,” says Hild to the armored adventurer as you approach. The bunnykin turns to leave, and you barely manage to catch a glimpse of their deep blue eyes behind the full mask of their helmet as they pass you by. “I apologize for the wait, Mr. Reynolds.” Hild greets you with the same professional courtesy that you experienced yesterday. Today, however, you notice the silver bracelet around her wrist, engraved with characters in a language you don’t recognize. Could that be the rumored charm that suppresses her possession? “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m here to work! Give me the best-paying job I can get!”

…

The work was as boring as yesterday’s, and the pay was only marginally better. As you’re handed the small pouch of coins, Hild apologizes and informs you that it is simply a matter of Guild policy and your rank not being high enough for better jobs. The only up side to your current situation is that you happen to still be standing around in the Guild Hall when that bunnykin adventurer from earlier shows up again.

They enter slowly, limping heavily on their right side due to some substantial injuries on their less-armored lower half. In one hand, they grip their silver {if@ sword = true}sword{elseif mace = true}mace{elseif spear = true}spear{endif}, leaning on it like a crutch; in the other, they carry a brown, bowling-ball-sized sack that appears distended by whatever is inside it. When Hild sees this adventurer, she rushes over and helps them over to a chair. The two then speak for a short time before the bunnykin passes the sack to Hild and she takes it away into a back room. You turn your attention back to the adventurer, only to realize that they’re more injured than you thought: as they remove their steel gauntlets, you see them rubbing bruises up and down their arms. Looking around, you notice that nobody seems to be interested in healing this adventurer’s wounds. Weird, you think, why isn’t anybody helping?

You’re moving before you realize it. It just doesn’t seem right that you have a healing spell and wouldn’t use it in this situation. The bunnykin adventurer is reaching up to remove their helmet, but they stop when they see you approaching. With one hand tensely moving to hover over the weapon resting beside them, they shoot you a **** glare from behind their steel mask.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” you say, slowing your approach but not completely coming to a halt. “I saw you this morning, right? We’re both in Hild’s care, I guess.” You look over toward the door Hild disappeared through, but she doesn’t seem to be coming back soon. “I know a spell that can heal your wounds,” you say as you pull up a chair and sit yourself inches away from the injured bunnykin. “Would you allow me to heal you?” The adventurer’s glare turns uneasy, and the tension in the hand hovering over their weapon eases considerably. Faced with no reasonable excuse to refuse your offer, they eventually nod their head and drop their hands into their lap.

“I’ll get started, then,” you say. “It may take a few casts, and I might not have enough mana to heal everything, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Burst forth, spirit, and mend your broken bonds. Heal.”

You’re able to cast the spell three times before feeling like you’re about to pass out, after which most of the adventurer’s bruises are gone and their leg wounds are at least sealed up. You think you hear them start to thank you, but then you really do pass out from the mana exhaustion.

…

Something fills your mouth. A liquid? Someone is compelling you to swallow by massaging your throat.

Warmth is filling your stomach. It reaches out to the rest of your body, and you feel yourself coming back to your senses.

…

You’re on the floor of the Guild Hall, being propped up by the adventurer you helped. They’re setting an empty bottle down next to you.

“Feeling better? You’re a real idiot to dry yourself out just to heal a stranger, aren’t you?” Her voice sounds familiar, but you can’t quite place it. Maybe if she took that helmet off, I’d recognize her voice easier, you think. A fairly ridiculous thought considering you’d then see her face, but your semi-conscious brain doesn’t have the wherewithal to appreciate that right now. Your hands, still shaky as you slowly come back from unconsciousness, reach up toward the helmet of the adventurer. The bunnykin stops you, though, laying your hands back at your sides. “Stay still for a bit longer. Let the mana potion fix you up.” She then reaches up and removes her helmet on her own, revealing the face of the blonde-haired and blue-eyed innkeeper, Jas Evergreen.