This a story that has been bouncing around the back of my head, and plays with the “Do we summon the real thing or not?” debate. Do not assume that it is in any way connected to canon.)



THALIA TAKES A BATH

There had been plenty of changes all across Innistrad once Avacyn had been freed from her imprisonment in the Helvault, and no place embodied those changes more than the Spreading Branches Inn. Located deep in the heart of the Kessig forests, it had recently come under new ownership after the previous innkeeper and several of his friends had committed suicide by Inquisitor. His daughter had been quick to seize control of the situation, and had set about restoring the inn now that there were travelers were once again coming south. The walls had been given a fresh coat of white paint, and the old, cloudy windows had been replaced with ones of clear glass. The roof was no longer a tattered mass of rotting thatch and straw, but had been properly shingled. Combined with the repairs that had been made to the walls, the inn was now as resistant to cold and damp as possible. The interior had been given the same treatment, from top to bottom. Gone were the moldy hunting trophies, wobbling tables, and tipsy barstools, to be replaced with new furniture and paintings and sculptures by local artists.

‘Now if only they had replaced their bathing tubs as well,’ Thalia thought as she watched two burly barkeeps haul one into her room. The tub had been a beer tun in a previous life, before someone had cut it down and lined the insides to prevent leaks. The stale odor of fermented hops and barley still clung faintly to the wood, but the water inside was clear and steaming. She passed the two men a pair of coins each, which they acknowledged with a tip of their hats. As soon as they left she bolted the door behind them, not wanting to risk any interruptions.

She reached for her sword belt and-

-was suddenly standing hip deep in algae covered swamp water. The sounds of battle raged all around her. She drew her sword on instinct, and something foul smelling rose out of the murk to attack her. It was a black ooze the size of a horse, and whip-like tentacles snapped at her face as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. She began to parry the attacks, but for each tendril she cut off two more would appear to take their place. She tried to dodge as best she could, but the water had gotten into her boots and was weighing her down. One of the tendrils managed to get past her swords and wrapped around her thigh. Thalia screamed as the ooze’s acids tried to digest her, burning through her pants and the skin below. She stabbed down into the middle of the mass, and she must have hit something vital as the ooze immediately stopped attacking.

IMAGE(http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7458/8725509251_f027815509.jpg)

She hobbled backwards, trying to find her breath. An undead giant came lumbering out of the darkness, charging right for her. There was a flash of brilliant light as some great big feathered…thing, like a griffin but too big and with a human head…went flying by, and then the giant just vanished. Off in the distance was a woman who seemed to be in charge of the fighting. The woman looked like one of the caravan guards Thalia had recently traveled with, but that couldn’t be right. Thalia frowned, but before she could do anything else the woman was buried under an avalanche of fire. The flames raced towards Thalia and she turned to run, but her clothes were too heavy. She wasn’t going to-

-unhooked the scabbards from the belt and lay them down on a chair next to her traveling kit. She wasn’t as careful with her belt, which she dropped casually to the floor. She sat down on the bed and reached for her boots, which were stiff with mud, so she-

-landed in a crouch on a narrow ridge. Steep cliffs flanked Thalia on either side, and one wrong move in either direction would send her hurtling to her death. There were two men standing at either end of the ridge, and Thalia could have sworn that the man standing behind her was the same man who had sold her some fruit in Nephalia a fortnight ago. He was screaming something at her, but she couldn’t understand a single word of it. On the other hand, she really didn’t need to. The man in front of her was waving his arms around and screaming in some equally bizarre tongue. The air in front of him split apart and spat out an ugly little grey creature. It looked like a devil, sounded like a devil, and as it ran towards Thalia she decided it even stank like a devil. That, at least, was something familiar.

IMAGE(http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7406/8725509001_9858b38843.jpg)

The devil leapt into the air as it swung an oversized battle axe at her head. The axe was clearly too heavy for the creature to wield properly, so Thalia didn’t even bother trying to dodge. Instead she stepped into the weapon’s arc. One hand grabbed the handle of the axe as she smashed the devil in the face with her elbow. The creature squealed in pain, but Thalia wasn’t done. She spun back the other way and kicked the devil in the belly, punting it off the ridge. The devil’s summoner stared in shock as his minion went flying into the abyss, which meant he didn’t see the axe come flying at him. The chipped steel of the blade ended up buried into his neck. He started to fall to his knees as he choked on his own blood before vanishing. Thalia turned to the other man to demand-

-her boots off. They were going to need a good rub down, but that would have to wait until after she was rubbed down. Her tunic and undershirt came off next, and she draped them over the edge of the tun so that they dipped into the water. She would drag them in all the way after she had finished with herself, that way she didn’t have to waste any time or money waiting for a fresh tub of hot water. Last came her pants, which joined the shirts for a long wait. She checked to make sure her soaps were in the proper place, fetched the book Ludevic had given her the last time she had visited, then smiled as she carefully put her foot into-

-a pile of silk pillows, scattered across the canvas floor of a pavilion tent. Red embers glowed in smokeless braziers that lined the walls. There was a pleasant scent in the air, and her nakedness made her blush. The only other occupant of the tent was a middle aged man Thalia remembered seeing during the siege of Thraben. He had been part of a group of nobles she had rescued from becoming skaab fodder. Now he sat on a stool, wearing nothing but an open robe that exposed his sweaty skin. It would have been obscene, should have been obscene, but he was carrying several dozen extra pounds that kept her from seeing anything she didn’t want to. He stood up and beckoned to her.

“Come, woman. Come to Carvaka,” he said. There was power in his words, and she could feel her body responding to his command. Thalia knew there was something wrong with the entire situation, but she could no more stop herself from walking towards him than she could stop herself from breathing. Carvaka leered, and licked his lips in anticipation as she approached. “Yessss, that’s it. You are so beautiful, so precious. I want you to touch me.”

Thalia nodded and did as she was told. It might not have been what Carvaka was expecting, but then it was own fault for not being more specific. After all, kicking a man in the crotch definitely counts as touching him. Carvaka shriek was high and whiney, but he still managed to squeak out the words to a spell. Thalia found herself falling into-

-the warm waters of her bath. She closed her eyes and let the water ease the soreness from her muscles. She would get up, eventually. There were still vampires and skaberan to deal with, not to mention whatever craziness Ludevic had cooked up while she was away. She didn’t mind, of course. She enjoyed being needed by people. But every once in a while, you just need some time to yourself.