Could we see how the new child is raised? Does Wraithvine take them in, or does Amatu? I'm curious.
@internutter/challenge-03577-i288-a-second-chance -- The New Guy
The jar was heavy, and it seemed to help to have someone either nearby or carrying it. Pondermore took some of the burden while traveling back to see Amatu's girl. Amatu carried it sometimes, or curled around it during their resting hours. Stravras the Really Dark Grey had given them a little device to let them know when or if the being inside needed blood, milk, or some other kind of sustenance. There was a huge list of things that should never be given as sustenance, which included liquid egg yolk and pennyroyal.
They had a cart for this leg of the trip, and Amatu had wrapped himself around the jar. Brooding over the contents in both meanings of the word.
Young men react strangely when they encounter sudden onset fatherhood. Older men are little better.
"Will Yllayra want this?" said Amatu. "Will she want me after this is done? How do I be a single father?"
"Don't act on disasters that haven't befallen yet," sighed Vee. "It's going to be fine. Yllayra liked you enough as you are. This is almost typical Adventuring stuff."
"Uhm," said her Uncle Rawr, the Bugbear. "I think most adventurers return a hero. They vary rarely return a parent."
"I did say almost..." Vee protested.
Pondermore spoke up. "Babies are innocent," she said, "and you averted disaster by doing what you had to. If anyone blames you for that, they have to explain it to the 'dumb Ogre'. And that can take months." Pondermore was very good at playing to the stereotype and a virtuoso at playing the fool.
Wraithvine, driving the cart, said, "It's very good that you want this child to have a better life. If everything else fails, I will help raise the babe. You will not be alone in this."
Yllayra ran to greet them, and immediately noticed the jar. "What in the world?"
"Uhhh," said Amatu. "Uhm. In order to stop a great evil. I. Um. Ihadtohelpmakeababy." His runic halo, faint now that the prophecy had fulfilled itself, burst into flames that echoed his mortification.
"That's... necromancy stuff, isn't it?"
"So is Purge Disease," said Wraithvine. "It uses necromancy to kill the virii or bacteria sickening a person. Does that make it evil?"
The jar... cracked.
"It's time!" Amatu panicked. "It's ready to live! Where's a nanny goat? Do we need hot water? I need a towel! A blanket! Something!"
Yllayra didn't have time to think, just to help bustle the jar in to somewhere cleaner. Just in time for it to crack in twain and for her to catch a squalling infant of obviously mixed heritage. Elven ears. Chick's wings. Hellkin horn nubs. An Ogre's bulk.
By the time she got the babe settled and cooing in her arms, she had fallen in love.
"Oh very well," she sighed, "I'll have to make an honest man of you. This little one of ours needs a good home to grow up in."
"Okay," said Amatu, grinning like any idiot in love. "When do we start?"
[Image by Daniele Levis Pelusi on Unsplash]
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