A deal worth making

I need a shower. Packing in all that cheese has been strenous work. Can I clean myself? Possibly. I don’t dare doing so anyway. If I mess my skin up, I highly doubt that I’d have the presence of mind to heal myself, before I go into shock and perish. Provided, obviously, that an injury by magical manipulation of time is curable with my powers at all. Now, I could start with a small part of my body. No, I am sorry, but there is a difference between boldness and foolishness. I do understand that you sometimes need to take a risk for a fitting reward. The key is a fitting reward. Feeling better for a few hours by not needing a shower is not a fitting reward.

I have made a triangular shelter big enough for me to stand in on the tall edge, even though there still is not much room above my head. I am waiting for nightfall. Casting something to color it dark is more important than making it small enough to be easy to heat, especially as a dark color absorbs the sun’s heat. It still is nothing to write home about, lacking windows and interior features.

It seems like I am getting more efficient by training, so that I can keep the expenditure of mana low enough. I have used a baby as an involuntary test subject to show that I can transport people during a teleport. I could set up a chain of huts to bring us to the coast. Do we want that? Do I want that?

These are distinct questions. Nor are they the only questions. Do we want to wait for spring? In fact, will there be spring? I feel like I keep asking questions without coming to decisions. Unfortunately I have no idea whether I am bad in general at making decisions or whether I am lacking the necessary prerequisites for making such decisions. Well, obviously I cannot know whether there will be a spring next year. However, if there will be a spring proximity to the ocean and being as far south as possible look like good options. And then there is Marental. Did he summon me here without a specific reason? I really doubt it.

The little girl’s breath on my cheek is so soothing and the hay smells so nicely.

Branislava hangs her head in shame while she is preparing tea. Her belly is getting heavy, following her mood. But she can still cook tea. She dares not become useless. Her noble mates are prone to consume the costly foreign leaves with abandon. Though they have a point. They are not going to sell the stuff, as that would mean toting it to a market. Hence they may just as well consume it. Consumption is on her mind. A man caring for a baby is outlandish. Him producing milk is bordering on ludicrous. He must have an ulterior motive.

She can’t help it. He will emulate the other wizards. Sure, he has all those spikes. It seems human sacrifice is like soup. Sometimes it is better to have fresh ingredients. She can’t even afford to stop him. Only he can make food with magic. She needs that. She hoped that she might make it to the coast on foot. But her body thinks otherwise. If it needs to be done, then better her cousin’s child than hers.

I am dreaming.

This court finds the defendant not guilty. It considers an established fact that a prescription for a scheduled substance was forged and said substance illicitly obtained using that prescription.

However, the prosecution has not established the identity of the defendant as the person perpetrating both acts beyond a reasonable doubt.

The allegation that the defendant manipulated the computers of the pharmacy the acts were commited in rests on physical evidence just as well and even better explained by the defendant working in said pharmacy under the aegis of the programme for social inclusion of persons overcoming mental challenges or illnesses.

Only one of the two witnesses present when the substance was retrieved positively identified the defendant. Moreover that person admitted to an antipathy towards the defendant for telling inappropriate jokes to her minor daughter while implementing a remedy on the pharmacy’s server, which the defendant described as „adding a swap file you simply need on repurposed hardware that old“.

Finally a dream that does not turn into a nightmare.

Zewrepa is worried. Placentalian reproduction is revolting. This human is no longer able to walk straight. That is an indispensable prerequisite for reaching the coast. They lack the resource to carry somebody, even if the terrain permitted it.

She does not like the idea of depending on an untested sorcerer with whom something unknown is wrong. Yet every day makes traveling harder as the snow piles up and temperatures fall. This suggests sending a subset of their number for supplies. However, sending only the sorcerer by himself carries the same objection with it. Yet she herself would quite likely trigger a violent reaction from humans. So whom to send?