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Dr. Love, Dr. Death (GargantuaBlarg)


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: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

"Well... It's actually sort of a mystery to me, too," Mavra admitted, "she grew up fast for you, yes, but.... I looked like she does now within a couple weeks of birth. Adolescence and child rearing are... Never things that I had. Meru spent so many weeks unable to speak, and so many more just developing.... I just don't know." She trailed off, troubled for the first time in their conversation. "We'll just have to let her find something that she finds a passion for."

The clash in their outlooks on many things had been strange to adapt to. Mavra came from a race who could decide their appearance on a whim, who could shape their own flesh and bone how they wished. Mavra's curvaceous frame, crimson skin, spade-tipped tail, and the stubby demon horns jutting from just beside her temples were all her choice, a set of aesthetics that she chose. The obviously, almost stereo-typically demonic appearance that she normally wore was a deliberate decision and, even though she could look like a normal human or elf or orc at will, she refused to hide her nature. It did cause her some problems; demonic presence was seldom tolerated in Crolia outside of the larger cities, and even in Therion it was only by special circumstances - thanks to Naltaibur - that she was allowed to reside there at all.

The demoness considered Naltaibur beautiful despite her mutant coloration; to her it was nothing unusual, and she had found it odd that Naltaibur went to such lengths to conceal it from the public. Demons often took on asymmetrical, strange, or even outright monstrous appearances after all. Still, she accepted it, despite that she may well have taught Naltaibur how to change her own appearance with a similar ability by that point.

When Naltaibur caressed her lover's side and admitted that she had a little time, the mischievous smile returned, and she began to ease closer... (Fade to black for now)

Later that morning, at the breakfast table, Meru was reclining in a cushion-y chair, holding a lazily struggling Dolly. The fat winged rat was trying to squirm towards a little pile of oats that were sitting in the young half-demon's lap just out of her reach, her wings fluttering and beating gently. Meru was giggling and occasionally giving Dolly an oat or two, watching her grab the offered snack in her little paws and devouring it with a note of delight in her giggles, before continuing to deny her the majority of the snack. Mavra had an extra sway in her step, and her tail was quickly waving circles behind her back as she prepared breakfast for the two of them; the demoness had acquired a passion for cooking now that she had an opportunity to study cuisine. The food in Hell - if one could call it that - was one of the things that seemed easiest aspects of her former life for her lover to talk about, mostly as it seemed to consistent of the raw, fresh gore of defeated enemies, gruel made primarily from dirt, and mashed worms.
 
It took Naltaibur awhile to realize that despite how odd she found it that Mavra hadn't simply chosen to change her demonic features away in favor of a more typical appearance that would see her protected from all the hatreds Therion directed at the demonic, Naltaibur was much the same way. It took her some time to master the ability over her own physical form that Mavra had shown her, but she still found herself reverting to the body riddled with the mutations caused by her experiments and exposure to magic. It was flattering that Mavra thought it was beautiful, and it was true she'd avoided any real deformities beyond some odd colorations and pleasurable anatomical changes, but she didn't have a particular attachment to it, either. She still thought it was a little silly that she'd tried to hide the vibrant red her hair had become after imbibing the orc distillation; she dyed it her old black, the same as it had been as a girl. Her skin was 'supposed' to be a dark grey... but that was close to black as well. Mavra's tutelage let her put on this look for the few ceremonies Therion's mighty had demanded she show up for without the heavy robes that had practically become her trademark, but it she'd felt horribly self-conscious the entire time - too exposed, too fake... and looking like a shadow in a cheap dress amidst the city's notables in all their finery, besides.

She thought it would be fun to use it to change into people in the bedroom, but Mavra seemed happiest when it was just her, so there didn't seem to be much point... though it was pretty fun turning into the Queen and railing Mavra in one of her conveniently empty menagerie cells, even if she was embarrassed later by all of the 'scepter' puns...


Naltaibur was feeling pretty good when she came downstairs, resist the obvious pun resist the obvious pun resist the obvious pun looking at Dolly and feeling a little bruised around the hips. She was all too happy to let Mavra take on all the cooking, and instead went over to stroke Meru's hair. She was happy that whatever she'd done to the mouse had improved her lifespan - but it miffed her that she had no idea what that something was. She could be making livestock hardier if she could reproduce the effect, as not only had Dolly lived so much longer than normal, but she'd lived so much longer while also being so goddamn fat. Even a hamster wheel hadn't lost her any weight, it just meant she worked up her appetite faster by using up whatever she ate quicker. And of course her metabolism had increased, so when Naltaibur tried to take the wheel away, Dolly started getting even rounder until Naltaibur put the wheel back in...

"Good morning, sweet pea. You're up early... getting Dolly a headstart on breakfast, I see."
 
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: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

The rat paused to gaze up at Naltaibur curiously as she strode around Meru to stroke the younger girl's hair, tilting her head up at first and then rising onto her hind legs, resulting in Dolly acquiring a very pear-like shape as she twisted to watch Naltaibur expectantly. She often did this, having apparently associated Naltaibur's approach with food at this point.

"Morning daddy!" Meru said brightly while stroking the back of Dolly's head, merrily leaning into the stroking of her hair. "Yup! She's so squishy now, we ought to make her work for her breakfast!" she said, ignoring the fact that Dolly had knelt down and started grabbing the food directly from Meru's other hand. "Besides, it's fun to play with her! What are you doing today?"
 
Naltaibur bent to poke Dolly's tummy when she reached up for her, bringing her finger up for Dolly to grab onto and sniff. Usually Dolly lost interest quickly... but she was still pretty cute.

"Heheh. We're going to tend to that 'cute' fellow from last week, and then I have to go talk to the army folks. Mommy might have a more exciting lession for you you're good, by the way~"

Good god, that sounds like something lewd, doesn't it, Naltaibur thought. Oh well... at least she was being supportive of Meru's chocie in boys! That was normal, as was the very definitely mild voice in the deepest parts of her saying not to let her date strange men. The feelings of not wanting her to date strange men so she could fuck her and her Mommy's mouths at the same time were perhaps less parental...
 
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You must be registered to see the links
: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

Dolly would twitch slightly at the poke to her rotund belly, and when offered Naltaibur's finger the rat would grab onto it with both paws before starting to sniff enthusiastically. Occasionally when doing such things, Dolly would give a testing nibble, but she'd never once bitten hard enough for it to hurt; she was a very placid fat rat, and only growing more-so as her roundness increased. She didn't do so this time, however, instead gently climbing a bit up Naltaibur's finger, still sniffing in search of any additional snacks. Once she had ascertained that Naltaibur had no such thing, she would release the elf's finger and lower herself, becoming nearly spherical before turning to search around for any leftovers on Meru's person.

Meru would quirk an eyebrow and then adopt an excited look; "Oooh, a special lesson? Oooh, oooh, what's it about? Is it about.... Magic? Or, or, oorr... Uhm... What was the word for it? Uhm... Special... Powers? Like magic but, you only use what's in you, not what's around you.... Uhm..." She paused to tap her chin, momentarily staring off into space, and the dazed expression was shockingly similar to the one she'd worn the first time that Mavra had taught her about feeding, though at that particular time her lips had been in an O shape instead of pursed... As well as rapidly bobbing back and forth onto one of Naltaibur's cocks.

"Oh, I give up! What's it about, and what do I gotta do to get it!?" she would finally asked, her voice brimming with excitement.
 
Naltaibur smiled and pat Meru on her head, ruffling her hair. "Heheh. I'm not sure it's something all that exciting... anyway, we think it'll make one of the more tedious subjects a little more fun for you, sweetie. When Mommy's ready, she'll let you know, okay?"

Trying hard not to think about fucking her daughter's face, Naltaibur went to sit next to her. "Say, though... Is there anything you're particularly interested in, or something you'd like to do, sweetie? Any of the things you get lessons in, or anything else? I know I've been teaching you a little bit about healing when I have you help me, but is that something you'd want to do on your own someday?"
 
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: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

"Oooookaaaaay," Meru replied, nuzzling into Naltaibur's ruffling of her hair and pouting. It was a remarkably and perhaps uncomfortably similar look to how puffed her cheeks had been when she'd had her lips wrapped around one of her cocks. Her pout turned into a frown when Naltaibur sat down beside her, and she rested hand on her chin while apparently trying to think. Dolly curled up and furled her wings around her rotund body in Meru's lap, apparently content for the moment with the snacks that she'd been given.

"I... Don't know," she said finally, sounding uncertain. "That's alright dear," Mavra said, coming over to serve she and Naltaibur the first course of their breakfast. Meru didn't seem so sure, still wearing a slight frown as she pulled the plate towards her, much to Dolly's rekindled interest. "I mean, I like a bunch of the stuff that I've been taught in lessons, I like learning to heal, but... I just don't know what else there is!"
 
Naltaibur nodded and gripped Meru's shoulder consolingly. "We'll keep on trying new things then, honey. Don't feel too bad that you aren't sure... lots of folks spend far longer than you have trying to figure out what they want to do... and I suppose even more never really get a choice. I suppose that means you're a lucky girl... even if that luck comes to you in lots and lots of lessons." Naltaibur made a mental note to set set some time off to test Meru for either of the sorcerous forms; she didn't want to simply confirm it and set educating Meru for later; when folks learned they had magic, oftentimes when left to their on devices they exerted themselves to see what that magic could do, and that very often resulted in something being on fire.

Naltaibur got up to give Mavra a thank-you kiss, and pushed Dolly away from Meru's plate before she started nibbling a sausage.

She still felt guilty eating while Mavra went back to cook more, but Mavra did always tell her not to worry about it...

She didn't suspect too much trouble with the checkups this morning. She wasn't sure what to expect when meeting with the army folks; she knew her proposal to supplement field troops with wands would revolve with obnoxious tenacity around denarii, despite the wealth of greyhearts still in the city and the worthiness of inks made with it as a medium for enchantment...
 
You must be registered to see the links
: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

Meru's frown turned into a smile due to Naltaibur's reassurance, and she nuzzled her cheek into Naltaibur's hand. Dolly, momentarily being ignored, would try to climb up onto the table, but while she did manage to get her paws onto the edge from Meru's lap, even the desperate flapping of her draconic wings wouldn't allow her to hoist herself up to reach the treasured plate sitting mere inches away from her nose. The rat had never managed to actually fly, even if Naltaibur had tried to bait her into it, but she had managed to glide a bit when dropping off of things. Mavra had, at one point, theorized that the rat's added girth was a result of her body attempting to keep the calories needed for winged flight without magical aid, but Dolly had never actually gone through with trying to fly before she'd ended up getting far too fat to actually do it.

"Okay!" her daughter replied brightly, "I like trying new things!"

Rolls
Medicine Check: 2 successes, because dice.

Mavra would move to sit down with her own breakfast, returning the kiss of thanks before setting down to her own, mildly less necessary meal; she had already done her important feeding for the day after all. Mental notes to check for Meru's magical aptitudes aside, Naltaibur was ready to start her day, starting with the basic work at the clinic that she ran; any concerns about her work with the army would have to wait.

Her first of five appointments was with an old balding man complaining of abdominal pain and swelling. His breath had the reek of cheap whiskey and ale, his eyes were slightly yellowed, and a quick magical examination confirmed that his apparent propensity for heavy drinking had started to take a toll on his liver.

Her second was prenatal on a young elven woman, who came in with her somewhat older and very nervous husband. She was doing fine, and he bombarded her with questions about potential complications, what minor health problems might mean, proper diet, and a meandering, disconnected list of things relating to how best to care for his wife.

The third was a routine checkup, an aging veteran woman just getting some adjustments to her prosthetic leg and an old wound to the stomach that bothered her regularly due to a bit of shrapnel that hadn't been removed.

After that came the "cute" fellow, who Meru smiled at brightly and proceeded to move with a bit more sway to her step as she played her part as Naltaibur's assistant. The young man was a stablehand, and was complaining of a regular cough. She had given him some medicine that normally helped with common issues of the lung, but it hadn't worked yet.

Finally came a woman with a young boy, who was coughing heavily and in some distress. The mother was distraught, and stood by nervously while Naltaibur did her usual check over and found, with some magical analysis, that he had pneumonia.
 
Naltaibur tended to tell her patients very directly what seemed to be the problem. The first was an unfortunate one, but he needed to know that the drink was killing him. Sadly, even after two-some years of refinement to her technique, moulding a person's body to just 'fix' diseases years in the making like this man's was difficult and time consuming. Naltaibur knew the function of the liver, as well as what she needed to do to encourage the body to reform a healthy one - but the so-called 'mechanics' of the organ were beyond her. She merely knew that the bodies' fluids entered it and came out in the form of many different substances necessary for the operation of the body. This made it quite difficult to know just how well a liver functioned. Repairing his mind to help him stay away from the drink was difficult as well; morphing a person's mind meant extensive change to much of their conscious, and when it came to addictions it seemed that the body itself came to require the substances.

Though, none of this was relevant to the man, anyway. She didn't have the time at the moment to repair his liver and then ensure the increased output of the organ didn't disrupt or overload other systems in his body, perhaps themselves weakened by his poor health. She scheduled a day for him later to see what she might be able to do for him then, and then laid it out for him; the drink was killing him, and for now, it would be best not to drink at all, to let his body heal. In the future, when his body was better, he could drink again, but he should definitely drink less, and less frequently, or else it would get him sick again. Medicine was tricky to prescribe; his liver was already overtaxed, after all. She suggested he soak cloth in cold water and wring it dry. That ought to help at least a little, and she'd be able to tend to it better later... assuming that he managed to cut down.

Briefly, she considered tweaking his mind to find the taste revolting, but discarded the idea, reasoning that doing that to him without removing his physical dependency would be cruel. It would have to wait.


It was hard to tell with elves, even as an elf herself, but Naltaibur suspected the woman wasn't as young as she looked... which was kinda hot, but she pushed that thought down. Her Diagnosis spell would confirm it to her, anyway. She did her best to answer their questions, but though she was a healer, she wasn't as well-practiced as a midwife; instead, she referred them to the best that she knew of (and had confirmed was still alive after the invasion two years ago), conveniently not very far from her shop, and bid them to enjoy the stroll.


Diagnostic magic could definitely find her next patient's old shrapnel, and Naltaibur thought she would be able to handle removing it, after tracing a path through the woman's body that could get her to it. She asked about any health conditions the woman might have first, such as ease in bleeding or resistance to healing magic, and then proposed an operation to the veteran. Naltaibur explained to the older woman that, if she agreed, she would use magic to put her to sleep, and use surgery and sorcery to extract the remaining debris lodged in her gut, as well as heal the wound. She also tried to schedule another meeting; she was confident that she could restore the woman's leg. One of her first acts in the invasion had been regrowing a man's leg, after all.
Anaesthesia, then a surgery check, then L1 Heal to fix the surgery wound? I'll ask her to rest in one of the clinic's spare beds for awhile to make sure she's k too I think.


Coughs were worrisome, especially ones that didn't want to go away. Using her hearing-enhancing spell, Naltaibur asked Meru's favorite of the day to tie a cloth they provided over his face and breathe, in and out, as she pressed her (covered) ear against his back to listen. Then came the diagnosis spell, highly developed over the years of her practice to find little things she had learned to look for. She feared he might have tuberculosis; that disease could bring whole regions, let alone a mere city, to its knees, and it tended to masquerade as the cough of a simple cold, which let it spread far before anyone would know. She ought to be able to cure it with simple magic, but she prescribed a tea, regardless, to soothe his throat. She forbade Meru from skin-to-skin contact, and they scrubbed the room afterwards, just in case.


The cough the little boy had afterwards was not quite as worrisome though, mostly because it was very definitely pneumonia. Pneumonia was bad, of course, but it was known. Naltaibur could treat the known; the unknown bore with it unlimited potential... but in the case of figuring the ailments her countrymen bore, that potential was never good.
 
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: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

Medical Appointments:
Drunkard man who has trouble sleeping, coming back so that she can repair the damage done by his alcoholism.
Regrow a limb for veteran who also had shrapnel pulled from her stomach.

Naltaibur's first patient would prove a fairly stubborn sort, his expression souring as soon as she suggested that he give up the drink even temporarily. Ultimately, he would mumble something about needing the drink to help him sleep, revealing that he had trouble with that any night in which he wasn't drunk. He would take the second appointment, saying noncommittally that he would try not to take to the drink until then.

The couple would accept the recommendation for a more experienced midwife, Naltaibur's patience assuaging the husband's worries somewhat.

Surgery Check: 3 successes. Sufficient.

Naltaibur's next patient would agree to the initial surgery, if somewhat hesitantly. Fortunately, once it was started, it would go smoothly. Meru would assist, making sure that Naltaibur had the right tools, and she would be able to extract the shards of metal and the dangerous cysts that had formed around them after about an hour. A bit of healing magic would allow her to seal up the wounds, and Meru would help take her to recover in one of the side rooms and then help clean things up.

Medicine: 4 successes. Also sufficient.

When her next appointment came, Naltaibur would notice that Meru was hovering around a good bit more, and that she'd done a bit of alteration to her outfit. Her skirt was hiked up a fair few inches, leaving her thighs almost entirely visible, and the top few buttons of her top had been undone. Naltaibur's forbiddance of any direct contact for her fear of it being tuberculosis would earn a pout, but then a nod of acceptance.

It turned out to be a good thing, as her careful examination confirmed her fears that it was the potentially devastating disease. The revelation of this caused the man to turn pale instantly, and Meru would later help thoroughly cleanse the examination room to ensure that it wouldn't spread to any of their other patients.

The diagnosis for her final patient for the day would cause panic in the boy's mother, as a cursory examination would confirm that it was, in fact, pneumonia. Fortunately, that could be treated somewhat reliably, allowing her to prescribe what was needed to give him the best chance at survival without any serious complications.
 
The drinker was told to wait. Naltaibur fetched him a clay pot of chamomile tea leaves, which helped with sleep and inflammation. Hopefully his liver would bear up under the strain of it, though undoubtedly it would harm him less than his preferred night time aid.

She hoped the veteran would return; undoubtedly Therion would find use for those who could fight, or the knowledge of those who once could, in the coming days. During her visit to the army later she ought to see if they or anyone they knew might be needing another instructor.

With Meru's boy, Naltaibur resisted the urge to slap Meru on the ass and ask her why she never did that for her, instead pushing it entirely out of her mind by asking if her boy had seemed to take any interest in her more revealing choice of attire. Nal wondered if Meru'd fallen for yet another man who preferred other men, and dutifully stamped down on the part of her mind hoping she had, a tired and well-familiar parade of mollification and shameful relish with the non-traditional relationship she had with her daughter.

She scoured him of disease as thoroughly as she could, then interrogated him, though her thick robes and the addition of the smoke of burning, disease-warding herbs, about who he'd seen, where he lived, worked, everything he could recall for at least three weeks since he'd started feeling strange, to determine who had been exposed and where he might have caught it from. She'd have to speak with the magistrates and health officials immediately to start containment of the disease.

The child, poor thing, had to wait for awhile as Naltaibur and Meru scrubbed down and changed after finishing with him. Ill children faired even worse and tuberculosis was already deadly.
 
You must be registered to see the links
: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

Medical Appointments:
Drunkard man who has trouble sleeping, coming back so that she can repair the damage done by his alcoholism.
Regrow a limb for veteran who also had shrapnel pulled from her stomach.
Medical Emergencies:
Shitfuckcrap it's Tuberculosis!

Naltaibur would be able to ask her question while Meru was helping her clean up after the handsome young man had been diagnosed with tuberculosis; "No. I think finding out that he was sick distracted him too much..." Her tone suggested some disappointmen on Meru's part, but also a bit of sympathy. Notably, her daughter hadn't readjusted her outfit, and the thorough scrubbing that they were giving the room necessitated that she bend over a whole lot. Her hiked up skirt left her bubbly violet rear, complete with familiar spade-tipped tail, waving around for her viewing pleasure, with only a pair of lacy black lingerie barely protecting her dignity. The view from the front wasn't any less distracting, with Meru's perky breasts hanging squeezed together, giving regular jiggles as she moved around to do their deep clean of the examination room.

The man himself had nearly panicked, and would do his best to give a full accounting of where he'd been over the last few days. It was patchy - he had been to a tavern only two nights prior and been around many people there - but it was a start if Naltaibur wanted to try and possibly head off an outbreak before it really started.

With that, however, her clinical work was done for the day. She could, naturally, proceed with going to the meeting with the city's military, as she'd planned. It wasn't for over an hour from now, however, so she could divert to the city clerks at the Tower Goldspike where that meeting was to take place anyway, to possibly get the ball rolling on preparing for a potential tuberculosis outbreak. Alternatively, she could take the time to work out her amorous feelings for her daughter if her clothes were feeling a little tight, either on Meru herself, on Mavra, or perhaps even by collecting some "samples" from her menagerie if she so wished.
 
Obnoxiously insistent urges told Naltaibur to indulge in that tight body her daughter had or spend another pleasant while with her literal sex-demon wife, but (sadly) Naltaibur had had to master her baser instincts at least a little bit if her post-crisis life was to involve anything beyond having ridiculous 24/7 sex. To calm down, she did what she usually did; Naltaibur stood in a corner - facing said walls, because otherwise surprise blowjobs tended to happen - and ran inventory of what the clinic needed and what they might need for the tuberculosis outbreak until her trousers went away. Then, she went to kiss Mavra goodbye and pat Meru on the head and tell her to be a good girl. Naltaibur returned to the corner to run inventory again, and then left for the Tower Goldspike.
 
You must be registered to see the links
: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

Medical Appointments:
Drunkard man who has trouble sleeping, coming back so that she can repair the damage done by his alcoholism.
Regrow a limb for veteran who also had shrapnel pulled from her stomach.
Medical Emergencies:
Shitfuckcrap it's Tuberculosis!

Rolls
Stealth to Avoid Boner Detection: 2 successes vs Meru's 3 successes. DUN DUN DUNNN....

Meru had indeed proved the sort to take advantage of Naltaibur's spontaneous erections when she or her more voluptuous mother inspired them, and had taken - perhaps instinctively - to trying to cause them. Fortunately, up until now, Naltaibur's tactic of going into the corner to do mundane, boring things until her blood had settled back into her brain had, up until now, always worked. It allowed her to take stock of the basic things, try to calm herself down, and left her completely taken by surprise when Meru walked up behind her, pressed against Naltaibur's back, and reached both hands around her waist to grasp the twin tents present in front of her. "I was WONDERING why you were always running to the corner of the room~" she murmured playfully as she let her chin rest on Naltaibur's shoulder. Meru's fingers squeezed and tugged, gently jerking Naltaibur's twin rods through her thick clothing, which did a decent but not entirely successful job of muting the stimulation. "You sure you don't wanna just let me help you concentrate? These seem pretty distracting~"

However she dealt with her daughter's shenanigans, Naltaibur would have to look over her current stores and feel the crushing inadequacy of them if there really was a major outbreak of deadly tuberculosis. Keeping up stock on standard medicines was easy enough given her budget and connections, but treating tuberculosis was another matter entirely. The ugly disease had swept through and decimated populations across Donevrion for centuries, but few treatments had proven effective. Simple magical healing, while effective against simple injuries, was almost useless in resisting any sort of disease or infection; infected tissue would still be infected, and magical healing seemed to strengthen many diseases as much as it strengthened the body.

There were some effective treatments, but none were common or easy, and they would often cripple even a healthy person. Surgery to remove infected tissue from the lungs, originally pioneered in Badaria but improved by the Academy, was the most common method, but that required a trained surgeon to spend at least two hours on a single operation, and went through a great deal of sutures and cleaning solutions. Being personnel intensive and at best semi reliable, given the fatality rate, it was a less than ideal solution. The Badarians had also found a few purely chemical treatments that could work to treat the disease, but those were often toxic chemicals that could be as bad for the body as the disease itself. Both required healing magic in addition to the treatment itself in order to have a better than half rate of saving their patient. The most effective solutions came from Amazonia, where sages had concocted herbal treatments that were as or more effective than the Badarian ones, but that required importing it from the Amazonia. Already an expensive prospect, that such trading convoys now had to travel across the mountains inhabited by the orcs - with whom Therion was at war - or through the Pass of Ghosts and then the Pfitherian jungle meant that their supplies of such medicines were sparse now and would likely only remain sparse. Only an angel's mercy could truly cure a person entirely, and that was, unfortunately, in short supply.

Fortunately for Naltaibur and her family, Mavra - being a demon - was essentially immune to the disease, while Meru - being a hybrid - and Naltaibur herself - being fairly mutated and in her hazmat gear most often - were both heavily resistant to it. They would most likely be fine, even if a wave of the deadly infection swept through the city. Those infected, and most others treating it, however...

Eventually, it would be time to leave her home and head to the Tower. Meru and Mavra would bid her goodbye and good fortune, as they always did, and Naltaibur would be left to head through Therion towards its center. The walk to the ancient tower wasn't a short one, and it allowed Naltaibur to walk through Therion's streets, experiencing how well they'd recovered from the Invasion two years prior. Some cities had been wiped out entirely, depopulated and left infested to his day. Others had been left ghosts of their former selves. Therion, however, had been all but completely rebuilt, and its people had rebounded from the unspeakable horror and banded together. Few of Crolia's other cities had weathered the Invasion and the war against the sudden assault of the orcs so well, but it was easy to see why Therion had done it. Many people waved to her; some were her patients who recognized her distinctive outfit, and others were among those she'd helped save during and immediately after the assault of the xenoes, but many who acknowledge her were either people that had heard of her, or simply people being friendly.

The city square around the mysterious golden tower that Therion had been formed around was a mass of scribes, courtiers, messengers, mages in training, soldiers, knights, and lords of varying ranks all busying about their daily business, meditating, or lounging on breaks between bouts of daily duty. Given her recent finding of tuberculosis, the clusters of people all passing one another, each a potential carrier of the deadly disease, may well have been distressing, but there was little she could do from here. It was up to her whether she wanted to proceed to her planned meeting with Therion's military officials first, or head straight for the city clerks' office to try and head off the potentially deadly pandemic right away.
 
Mental accounting was suddenly very hard. LIKE HER DICKS. With a sigh of resignation and the knowledge that she really should have expected this, Naltaibur closed her eyes, muttering as she sunk into the core of her power, spinning threads throughout her body to strengthen it. Flexing sorcery like sinew, she turned around and scooped Meru up and threw her over a shoulder. "I think I'll take you up on that for once, actually, honey. Let's go find your mother and have some fun."

Trying and failing to convince herself that the taboo part of digging into her daughter wasn't one of the things making her robes tent, she headed back to the dining room to throw Mavra over the unoccupied shoulder. She didn't go very far, though, laying her gently on the dining table and pressing Meru on top of her with a a swift slap on the ass before Naltaibur started shedding her stifling robes. "I'm sorry, Mavra darling, but I fully intend to make a mess..."

--

Naltaibur waved and greeted folks as she made her way towards the clerks' office. She tried to seem untroubled, so the folks she ran into wouldn't panic, and truthfully it wasn't that difficult; her work during the invasion and its aftermath had earned her some clout with both great- and common-folk alike, and unsurprisingly her word carried some weight when it came to public health, so she and Therion's officials ought to be able to mitigate the harm the tuberculosis would do. Though... pursing her lips at the thought, she rapped her knuckles against a support beam of a house she passed. "Knock on wood..."

She figured she still had a decent bit of time, as her meeting with the military was scheduled later in the afternoon. She was still careful to keep the satchel with her prototype wands close, though... She was glad Therion thrived as it used to, but by her accounting that essentially meant they'd regained a position they'd held two years ago--that is, a position that was two years behind the times. The orcs were still an existential threat to Therion, and she hadn't poured her life into rebuilding the city just to let it be conquered. She wasn't sure how hard the invaders had hurt the orcs, but she recalled that they were still losing territory to them. Their physical superiority gave them an edge, and regrettably, they weren't stupid--they targeted mages and employed the less bloody anti-magic warding techniques as well, dulling the edge Therion had over them. They needed something that could give them an edge, and Naltaibur thought massed, lower-level sorcery might just be the ticket - or at least, it was the ticket she could provide.

Therion had problems providing solutions, it seemed. Coincidentally she'd tried to import some of the herbs that the Amazonians had found worked well against tuberculosis last summer, but even with a plant mage's help and borrowed greenhouse space the climate proved unable to support their cultivation. The alchemy the Badarians had come up with allowing them to mimic powerful and violent fire magic, and the subsequent 'firearms' they'd come up with, seemed to be undergoing rapid cycles of improvement. Those weapons were still hard to get a hold of, up here in the north, and she didn't know if anyone had the secrets that would let them begin their own work on such things, which means in just a few generations what they knew of warfare might be wholly obsolete. She wasn't sure her solution to the issue would be best. Both the futures of medicine and combat seemed to be moving away from magic. However, she was a mage--magic was the tool she had. If she was lucky, it would at the very least allow them to survive long enough to find another, more stable solution.

Sighing and worrying about the future, Naltaibur made her way for the clerk's office, resolving to find someone to speak with about the possible epidemic they might have.



Casting the Lv1 Body buff to swoleup at Grapple I guess. Not that it really matters but I think I have +2 to Body buffs so that shitty level 1 buff gives me 9 grapple dice I guess I guess?
 
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: HP = 51, PP = 63, EP = 58, Status = Fine

Mavra: Fine
Meru: Fine

Medical Appointments:
Drunkard man who has trouble sleeping, coming back so that she can repair the damage done by his alcoholism.
Regrow a limb for veteran who also had shrapnel pulled from her stomach.
Medical Emergencies:
Shitfuckcrap it's Tuberculosis!

"Gah!" Meru let out a surprised cry as Naltaibur turned and casually threw the succubine nurse over her shoulder, but her shock was short-lived. Giggling, she let her tail wave in a figure-eight pattern in front of Naltaibur's face while she made her way from her office back to the section of the building that made up their dwelling. "You and mom already did it this morning, I could hear you~ But, I don't mind sharing!" She said with a playful giggle, letting herself be hauled as comfortably as one could going butt-first in a fireman carry.

Mavra was to be found in the kitchen, doing dishes, and she looked over her shoulder as Naltaibur and Meru entered only to quirk an eyebrow. "Ahhh, being persistent was she?" The elder succubus asked knowingly, only to repeat Meru's "Gah!" and ensuing giggle as she, too ended up over one of Naltaibur's shoulder. Neither were particularly large women, besides their voluptuous assets, but having to carry both of them would probably have been tiring if she'd had to go far. Fortunately, the dining room table was conveniently nearby, and when planted one over the other, the two demons - one of whom Naltaibur had fathered - giggled in delight, interrupted only by a soft yelp from Meru as Naltaibur smacked her on the ass, and then shifted so that both could watch the heavily-clad physician disrobe.

They were not entirely idle, of course; they had some disrobing of their own to do. Meru, letting her tail do much of the work, hiked her skirt up to reveal a total lack of undergarments beneath, leaving the clothing scrunched up around her waist and her bubbly rear otherwise fully exposed. From there, she spread her legs apart, exposing her moist flower and puckered rear. Mavra had a little bit more work to do, and was in a less advantageous position to do it, but still gamely wormed her way out of her pants, revealing that she, too, had gone commando that day, though given that Naltaibur had watched her dress that morning that was perhaps less surprising. From there, however, she raised them and wrapped them around Meru's waist, dragging her closer and allowing her to wriggle such that her clit was rubbing against her daughter's. Meru gave a delighted coo at that, and their tails intertwined as the two glanced back over Meru's shoulder, waiting for Naltaibur to pick which set of holes she wanted to try out.

--

With as many things as Naltaibur had to worry about in her day to day life, thankfully, the distrust of the populace was not one of them. Perhaps more fortunately, neither were access to supply lines; She more or less had access to the full measure of the city's resources, at least to an extent. The days of back alley dealings for necessary medical resources were behind her, and the questions that might come with certain requests were no longer asked by people who could seriously threaten the wellbeing of her, her practice, or her family. That didn't necessarily leave her free of worries for the future, naturally, but at the very least it was now she was in a position where she could potentially do something against the threats looming both figuratively and literally on the horizon.

Entering the office of the clerks who oversaw the city's health, Naltaibur would find the place more sparsely populated than it might normally be. Resources had been getting diverted all over the place of late, and as Naltaibur stepped into the room, she would spot trained physicians and healers - people would normally be doing more important organizational or even field work - stuck doing the paperwork that bureaucrats and secretaries would normally have been doing. One of them, an elf who had gone from hedge-mage to aristocrat over the course of his long life, was the first to meet Naltaibur as she sought someone to go to on this issue of a potential outbreak.

"Yes? You're a local physician, right? I guess you must be important if they let you in here... Do you need something?" He said, clearly not recognizing her, though a few of the other people who looked up and did a double take at the sight of Naltaibur clearly did.
 
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