Had a headache and sore stomach

18F, 5’3 133 lbs, i have bulimia, no medications or other preexisting conditions that i know of
so i’ve been coughing up mucus for a while, i think it started back in december when my bulimia started getting bad. it’s always in the back of my throat, when i cough it up it’s clear or a little cloudy. it’s worth mentioning i’ve probably had post-nasal drip for much longer but it only started getting to this point with the frequent purging. i don’t have chest pain or trouble breathing or anything like that, just intermittent stomach pain, and i have been getting a lot of headaches lately when i never used to get them. joint/muscle pain too. could this be anything serious?

41 m
This really started weeks ago, thought it was kidney stones coming on- had a history of kidney stones and know they symptoms. About 7 days ago, those symptoms started up, and without any fever or vomiting, pressure in my back, alternating kidney pain, bladder pain, stomach feels bloated at the bottom left and bottom right, burning pain in stomach bottom left, urgency , dribble urination, peeing 20 times a day, some sharp pains randomly , and anus is sore.
I had a PSA and CBC ordered and will get the results tomorrow.
What are the chances this is something worse than prostatitis ? Like I said I’ve felt things here and there but the last 7 days have been rough
On 500mg antibotic 2x a day currently
Thanks in advance

please ignore some spelling mistakes, typing with one hand i had tethered cord surgery at 10 after three years of chronic back pain and development of a posture hunch. at the same time i was diagnosed with spina bifida. i was leaned forward and unable to stand at full height. in terms of post-op i saw the surgeon one more time. in the hospital i could feel some loss of sensation in my left foot, i expressed this but my nerves still reacted like normal when tested and i was crying/going through an anxiety attack from feeling overwhelmed (note: i fear i was perhaps not taken seriously bc of that but not dwelling on what ifs rn) for about half a year following the surgery i had intense and crippling migraines that i was told (by surgeon) it was from loss of spinal fluid. they eventually went away.
through middle school and high school i did not see my doctor much, no scans, some PT, i went in for sciatica pain multiple times and was given home stretches. my pain would tange depending on how much movement i had done, for a time in sophmore year (15) i had migraines as bad as the post-op ones. i saw a chiropractor (sorry) who was the one to tell me i had developed scoliosis (beginning of 2021?) until end of 2022 when i had another pinched sciatica following an appointment with her.
flash forward to the last two years(23-24); college. this time last year i had been stretching and heard a pop so loud in my hip for a second i feared i dislocated something (it hurt badly, 6-8, by this time i was used to a high pain level) and went to urgent care after days of no relief. it became a problem when driving was causing further pain. i had an xray of my right thigh/hip and no issues were visible. i was sent home with crutches and higher dose over the counter meds which i used for some time before returning to normal range of movement. the month prior i strained some unknown muscle in my left rib area which caused pain when breathing. another xray, sent home again. i felt both for a year following, most pain died down to discomfort/soreness from overuse after a few months. i saw my dr for the newest round of PT for feet pain as well and xrays showed hallux valgus in both feet the PT eval i had monday pointed out my body in parts seem strong and the symptoms are presenting as neuro related. last night i felt a pop in my L foot (bad history with pops) and i would say the dragging of my foot today has been its worse.
for pain management i take over the counter pain meds and once turning 18 i got my med card per my states laws, etc.
to recap and ensure i include all of them here is a summary , - weakness in my left side ranging from foot drop (dragging my foot), a noticeable increase in my lazy eye (left) as well as eye strain. even looking in pictures you can see when my pain was worse my eye wonders more off skelter. my mobility is becoming more limited, my driving is even being hindered i cant fall asleep on my left side. and when i close my eyes my balance goes out the window. i failed the romberg test :( i would describe the feeling as pulling my left hip by a string, needing to overcompensate. numbness/loss of sensation and some tingling mixed with muscle spasms -ive always had neck tics starting in eight grade but i boiled it down go being anxiety linked¿ my life was high stress at the time due to a parent being ill and it was sporadic - tension headaches and a constant strain on my right side. sore rather than sharp pain - some issue with BM’s - numbness while peeing - snoring (not happened much when i was younger)
my question; would it be worth it to go to the ER with my current symptoms in order to receive care faster? i can survive as i am now, as i have been, but not for a year or more my concerns/where my current urgency is stemming from i was referred back to PT by my dr and have to complete three weeks in order to get referred (my dr said we need to look proactive for records/ortho) after going to PT the dr said it is likely linked to my spina bifida which falls to neuro. ive done research in the past regarding my condition, and have always tried to approach it with an open mind regarding possible need for further treatment. however, looping back to the three weeks of PT, it was a multi-month wait for my podiatry appointment so i can only assume itd be the same if not longer for ortho once the referral is sent, would be 2-4 months, countering in the neuro side if i do need to see a specialist id likely be referred until after my ortho consult, so an appointment would likely not happen until early 2025. ive talked to my friends mom, ~20 years in the nursing field, and presented my case to her. her opinion was to go, i messaged my dr and she told me it’d help my case too. ik with this piece of info, its weird for me to be asking random people when real people closer to me have said to go, i however still feel somewhat like the anxious 10 year old that wasn’t fully listened to. would i be wasting time? am i wasting everyone’s time at the ER? help doctors whom have my admiration! from a former pre-med student.

Hi everyone.
Long time lurker and first time poster. After 3 years of infirtility; 4 iuis, 3 egg retrivals and 5 transfers (3 fresh and 2 FET) I finally got my BFP! (English is not my first language so sorry if I misspell)
This sub helped me through alot of dark times and days. I used read about transfers and symptoms for hours. Now that I have my BFP I want to share my experience if it could help anyone (I am only 7dp5dt)
Symptoms; I used to think that I would feel it as soon as the embryo implanted. Symptoms I was looking for ; cramps, fatigue, thirst, frequent urination, headache, twinges, implantation bleeding, bloating, sore boobs. I honestly never had or have any of these symptoms! I felt more symptoms the cycles that did not work.
Actual symptoms;
1 to 4 days post transfer; I felt nothing and was 100% sure it was another failed cycle. Had a negative test and was upset the whole day.
5dp5dt; woke up with a runny nose no other symptoms. Took a test in the morning and it was very faint. I made my self believe it was an indent cause I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
Runny nose all day and kep sneezing at work. Took another two tests after work and again faint lines.. now I started to believe it might have worked.
Before bed 5dp5dt I felt the mildest backache (would not have noticed if I wasn’t so super aware of my body). Had a hard time falling a sleep. Woke up at 3am and could not fall back asleep.
6dp5dt; kept sneezing all day. Mild backache and mild cramps. Could not fall asleep again. Woke up 3 am and it’s 7am now and still no sleep.
Hope this helps someone :)

and seeing in its hole the deadly, trailing brute, implored it with fawning speech to aid him in his sore plight. Whereat the snake asked of the foolish creature as a gift the load which he had taken on his back; and the ass refused not its request. Ever since then do trailing reptiles slough their skin in old age, but grievous eld attends mortals. The affliction of thirst did the deadly brute receive from the braying ass, and imparts it with its feeble blows.
Come now and learn that the forms of the chersydrus and of the asp are alike in appearance. 360 Signs of a malignant nature follow on his bite: all the skin upon the flesh, dry, loathsome, and bloated with putrid sores, breaks out from below, disclosing a clammy wound, while innumerable and fiery are the pangs which overcome the man, and sudden swellings are raised upon his limbs, plaguing him by turns now in this quarter now in that. This is the snake that first beneath some shallow mere wreaks his truceless malice upon the frogs; but when the Dog-Star dries up the water and drought is upon the floor of the lake, then upon dry land he becomes dust-like and shabby, 370 as he warms his grim body in the sunshine, and with hissing tongue he haunts the thirsting ruts along the highways.
After him you shall learn of the amphisbaena, less in bulk and slow of gait, two-headed, ever dull of eye. From either end a blunt chin protrudes, the one far from the other. Its body is earth-coloured and wears a skin ragged, speckled, and sheeny. This snake, when it comes to full growth, do wood-cutters, as though they had cut for a walking-stick a stem of twisted wild-olive, strip of its skin as soon as it appears, 380 before the note of the cuckoo in spring. The amphisbaena benefits those with afflicted skin when crippling chilblains break out upon the hands of men overcome with cold, also when the bonds of their sinews slacken and weary.
You shall learn too of the scytale, like in appearance to the amphisbaena, though thick, and bulkier down to its useless tail, for the skytale is of the thickness that men make the haft of a mattock, while the amphisbaena's bulk is that of a maw-worm or of such earth-worms as the earth breeds after a shower. Nor at spring's oncoming, after it has quitted gully and hollow cleft 390 in the season when earth brings reptiles to light, does it browse upon the waving shoots on the fennel's branch, when it clothes its limbs with their new skin beneath the sun; rather does it retire to hedges and glades and lurk deep in slumber and feed upon what the earth may chance to yield, nor does it stave off its thirst for all its desire.
Consider too the king of snakes {basilisk}, small indeed yet far excelling all others: his head is pointed; he is golden-hued and three palms' width in outstretched length. Truly none of the heavy-coiled monsters of earth 400 abide his hissing when to feeding-ground or forest or in craving for a watering-place they dart forth at noontide, but they turn and flee. His bite swells a man's body, and from the limbs the flesh falls away livid and blackening. Nor even will a bird pursuing its track above the corpse, be it eagle or vulture or raven that croaks of rain, nor yet any species of wild beast that pastures upon the hills, feed upon it; such the terrible stench that it sends forth. Yet if so be that fatal greed draws one of them near in ignorance, 410 death and a swift ending are wrought for it on the spot.
Learn now the doom inflicted by the dryinas, which others call chelydrus. It makes its home in oaks or maybe Valonia oaks and dwells in mountain glens. For after it has deserted the water-weeds, the marsh, and the congenial lake, and is hunting molurides and small frogs in the meadows, it is sent speeding in expectation of the gadfly's distasteful onslaught; whereat slipping swiftly into the stem of some hollow oak it coils itself and builds its lair in the depths of the wood. 420 Its back is of a smoky hue, but in the flatness of its head it resembles the hydrus, and from its skin exhales a hateful air, as when about the damp horse-skins and hides the scraps of leather ooze beneath the paring of the tanner's knives. And truly, when it strikes the hollows of the knee or on the sole of the foot, a stifling smell is diffused from the flesh; also there rises up a dark swelling about the victim's wound; moreover he is distraught, hateful distress shackles his mind, and his body is parched with suffering. His skin hangs loose about him, so consuming is the fierce poison 430 which feeds ever upon him. and an encircling mist, veiling his eyes, overcomes him in his sore affliction. Some men scream and choke, and their urine is stopped; or again they fall asleep and snore, oppressed with frequent retchings, or from their throat discharging a bilious or sometimes a bloody vomit; and last of all a dreadful plague of thirst sheds a trembling upon their limbs.
Learn and consider the green and dark-blue dragon, which once on a time the god of healing fostered in a leafy oak upon snow-capped Pelion 440 in the vale of Pelethronius. Radiant indeed does he appear, but in his jaw above and below are arrayed three rows of teeth; gleaming eye are beneath his brows, and lower down beneath his chin there is ever a beard of yellow stain. Yet when he fastens on a man he does not hurt as other snakes, even though his rage be violent, for the wound upon the skin of one whose blood is drawn by his slender fang seems slight as that of a meal-nibbling mouse. From his earliest days the king of birds, the eagle, grows up cherishing fierce wrath against him, and against him with his beak 450 he wages a war of hate whenever he espies him moving through the forest, for every nest he lays desolate, devouring alike the young and the cherished eggs of birds. Nevertheless when the eagle has just snatched in his talons a lamb or a swift hare, the dragon will easily rob him, springing up from a thicket. The eagle avoids him: and then there is a battle for the feast. But as the eagle hovers round, the writhing snake is after him without cease, watching him with sidelong glance and grim eyes.
Should you chance to walk in some valley of limping Hephaestus's isle { Lemnos } or go to storm-beaten Samothrace - these lie far off in the Thracian Gulf, 460 where are Hebrus, the river of Hera of Rhescynthium, and the snow-crested mountains of Zone and the oaks of Oeagrus's son, where too is the cave of Zerynthus - you will find the long monster cenchrines, which men call the spangled lion, dappled with scales. His bulk and his length vary, but in a twinkling he sends upon the flesh a shower of putrid sores which will not heal, and these with their consuming poison feed upon the limbs; and ever deep in the belly the dropsy with its load of pain settles about the mid-navel. At the hour when the sun's rays are at their hottest 470 this snake eagerly resorts to rugged mountains, athirst for blood and on the watch for the gentle sheep, while beneath the tall pines of Saüs or Mosychlus the shepherds cool themselves, forsaking the tasks of herdsmen. Do you not dare, bold though you be, to face him in his fury, for fear he wind about and strangle you as he lashes your body all around with his tail, and gorge your blood after he has broken both your collar-bones. But in fleeing weave ever a crooked, manifold track, and baulk the beast's course by starting aside. 480 For by the many turnings and twistings of the spine he injures its ligaments; whereas he moves rapidly and at his swiftest when his path is straight. Such is the serpent which haunts the isles of Thrace.
There too are the bites of the gecko, hateful, though he is of no account. Of him the tale is current how the Sorrowing Demeter did him injury when she marred the limbs of him as a boy by the well Callichorum, after wise Metaneira of old had received the goddess in the dwelling of Celeus.
Harmless reptiles also there are however which feed in the forest, the brakes and thickets and gullies in the country; 490 and men call these Elopes, Libyans, and curling Mouse-hunters; and with them all the Darters and Moluri and Blind-eyes too which are reported innocuous.
Now all the simples and remedies for these ills, the herbs and the time to cut their roots, I will expound to mankind thoroughly and in straightforward fashion,- herbs by whose aid a man may heal the urgent pain of sickness. While the wound is still bleeding and painful, pluck your herbs freshly (this excels all other remedies) from some place where snakes feed in the thick wood. 500 Choose first the medicinal root of Chiron {centaury}; it bears the name of the Centaur son of Cronus, and Chiron once on a snow-covered col of Pelion found and took notice of it. Its waving leaves, like sweet marjoram, encompass it about, and its blossoms are golden to view; its root, at the surface and not deep-set, is native in the dell of Pelethronius. This when dry or while still green, after crushing in a mortar, mingle in a cotyle of pleasant wine, and drink. It is of service in every case; therefore men call it Panacea {"all-healing"}.
Assuredly let birth-wort which grows in the shade be commended; 510 the leaves it bears are like those of the woodbine with its ivy-shaped leaves, but its flowers are red with scarlet, while the odour diffused from it is heavy, and the fruit in the midst you will see to be like the wild pear upon the cordate pear-tree or the common pear. The root of the female shrub is rounded into a lump, but that of the male is lengthy and extends down as much as a cubit, and in colour it resembles the boxwood of Oricus. This you will search after as a surpassing aid against the dread blow of male and female viper. From it let a portion of a drachma's weight be mixed in a draught of tawny wine.
520 Furthermore take to yourself the treacle-clover as a protection against snakes, be it on some stony hill or in some steep glen (some call it Brief-flower, others would call it Trefoil) ; its leaves are like the melilot, but its scent is like rue. When however it sheds all its blossoms and its mottled leaves, it exhales a smell of bitumen. Then cut off enough seeds to fill the sauce-boat on your table, pound them in a mortar, and take to drink as a remedy against snakes.
Attend now and I will rehearse some compound remedies against disease. Grind down and take the strength-giving Sicilian root of fustic; 530 add a heap of the seed of the brightflowered agnus castus, savin, and the luxuriant rue, and pluck a shoot of the earth-pillowed savory, which in the forest spreads abroad fronds like those of the tufted thyme. Again take the root of the double-flowered asphodel, or else the upper portion of its stem; often with them too the seed which the enclosing pod ripens; or else helxine, which men call Clybatis and which delights in streams and flourishes ever in water-meadows. Drink them after crumbling them into a cotyle of vinegar or of wine which you have drawn. 540 Even with water you might easily escape death.
Consider now the excellent root of Alcibius's bugloss: its prickly leaves grow ever thick upon it, and it puts out a coronal of flowers like violets, but beneath them in the soil the root grows deep and slender. Alcibius a male viper wounded above the lowest part of his groin as he lay asleep upon a mound of uncleansed grain by the margin of a piled threshing-floor, straightway rousing him by the violence of the pain. Whereat he pulled the root from the ground and first broke it small with his close-set teeth as he sucked it, and then spread the skin upon his wound.
550 Again, if you pluck off the shoots of the sprouting horehound and drink them with bright wine you may ward of snakes : this is the plant which draws down the udder of a young cow which mothers not her first-born calf, and anon, swollen with milk, she cares for it. Herdsmen call it Meliphyllon {"honey-leaf"}, others Melictaena, for all about its leaves the bees lured by the fragrance of honey buzz busily.
Or else you should peel off the thin membranes of the brain of a domestic fowl, or pare fine some field basil and marjoram, or cut from a boar's liver 560 the tip of the lobe which grows from the 'table' and inclines towards the gall-bladder and the portal fissure. These then you should drink, mixed together or separate, with a draught of vinegar or wine, though a fuller cure will attend wine. And snip the foliage from the evergreen cypress for a potion, or all-heal, or the testicle which is fatal to the beaver, or that of the river-horse which the Nile beyond Sais with its black soil nurtures, and launches, a ruinous sickle indeed, upon the plough-lands. (For the beast, emerging from the muddy ooze of the river when the pastures grow green and the fallow has put forth grass, 570 tramples and leaves behind a deep track as long as that which it devours with its jaws as it cuts its returning swathe.) From it cut off a drachma's weight to match, and soak in water, shredding all together in a vessel.
And do not forget the wormwood or the berries of the slenderer bay; very serviceable too would sweet marjoram be, which flourishes in garden-plots and borders. And include curd from a nimble leveret or from a fawn of roe or red deer after separating the impurities, or the seminal purse which you have cut from a stag, or his paunch, which some indeed call the 'urchin' but others the 'intestinal snood'. 580 Take of them portions of two drachmas' weight and throw them into four cyathi of old wine and mix well. And do not overlook the succour afforded by the hulwort and the cedar-tree, the juniper berry and the catkins of the plane that invites to sleep in summer, and the seeds of the bishop's weed and the cypress of Ida ; for all these will heal you and will banish untold suffering.
Next consider another means of escape and protection from death, and take helxine and grind it in a round mortar 590 and pour in a cotyle of barley gruel, adding two cyathi of wine of ancient vintage, adding also an equal portion of gleaming olive oil; mix them by pounding and you will keep at bay the poison that bites like gall.
Take also to the sixth of a cotyle fragrant pitch and cut out the central pith from the green giant fennel; or grate the full-grown root of horse-fennel into juniper berries, also the seeds of the marsh-bred celery. The full depth of an alexanders 600 and two drachmas' weight of pungent myrrh: cut too the fruit of cummin that grows in summer and weigh them, or pour in at random and shake up unweighed. Then draw thrice a cyathus of wine and mix with them before drinking. Take to yourself a drachma's weight of fruitful spikenard and with it crumble into fresh-drawn milk an eight-footed crab ravished from the river ; some iris too which Drilon has fostered and the banks of Naron, the abode of Sidonian Cadmus and Harmonia, where as two fearsome snakes they move about the pastures. 610 Take next the thick-growing heath when in flower, round which the thronging bees crawl and feed; take too a young frond of the tamarisk that bears no fruit, an honoured prophet among mortals, which Apollo of Corope endued with prophetic properties and authority over men; with these green marjoram leaves and blossom in plenty, and tree-medick and the milky spurge. Bray all these in a mortar, and in the containing vessels medicate wine with them and take in one-tenth of a chous. 620 But of a truth the tadpoles' all too noisy parents, frogs, are excellent when boiled with vinegar in a pot; often the liver of the biting snake itself if drunk in common wine, or the poisonous head administered sometimes in water, at other times in a small quantity of wine, will help you.
You must not neglect the blossom of the sweet blue pimpernel with its closed eye, nor the all-healing marjoram, which men honour as Heracles's Organy; and with the Marjoram you should rub small a leaf of pot marjoram, and dry pellets of the savory that muzzle evil disease.
630 Be sure and take the well-watered rhamnus, like to the little Wild Lettuce; it ever clothes itself in blossom of white. The name whereby men call it is Good Companion, the men who dwell about the tomb of Tmolus and of Gyges on the steep of Parthenius, where horses that toil not pasture upon Cilbis, and where the Caÿster rises.
Attend now and I will tell you of roots that are a help against Serpents. First, learn the two kinds of viper's bugloss : of one the prickly leaf is somewhat like alkanet, since it is small, and the root which it extends is short and on the ground. 640 The other kind has robust leaves and stalks, is tall, grows purple with small blossoms all over, and puts out a head like that of a viper but rough on top. Of these two kinds cut off an equal portion and use as a remedy after shredding them on a block of wood or in a mortar or a hollow stone. Also you should make a paste of the roots of the eryngo and the flowering bearsfoot, and to these two add an equal weight of the campanula that flourishes about the hedgerows. Take too the heavy foliage of the field-basil upon the mountain and seed of the evergreen celery from Nemea ; 650 with them let the double burden of anise raise the scale that sinks with the weight of roots. These should you knead, and having mixed them in a single vessel you may cure one time the deadly bane of Male Vipers, at another the scorpion's wound, at another the bite of the poisonous spider, if you will crumble three obols' weight in wine.
Consider too the white pine-thistle and the dark kind also. The two are distinct: the dusky is like golden thistle in appearance; it puts forth a circle of leaves, its root is strong and dark, and it grows beneath shady mountain spurs 660 or in glades, shunning the sun. But the other you will find ever in the pride of its leaves, while the head lies low and bloated in the middle of them, and its root is whitish and honey-sweet to the taste. Reject the dark root of these plants, but of other stir a piece of a drachma's weight in river water and drink.
Take herbage of another kind that also bears the name of Alcibius, fill your hand full, and drink in a little wine. it was that when hunting beneath Phalacra's cliff, on Crymna's plain and about Grasus, and where lie the meadows of the horse, 670 as he hallooed to his Amyclaean whelps, he discovered through the anguished whimpering of his lion-hearted hound; for as it followed up a goat's trail along some woodland path it had received the female viper's stab in the watering corner of its eye. And with a howl it flung her off and readily ate the leaves of this herb and escaped deadly destruction.
Administer plenty of the sappy, oily bark of the castor oil tree, together with the leaves of the thick balm, or else the plant whose name is that of the sun's turnings, and which, like the glaucous leaves of the olive, 680 marks the path of the retreating scion of Hyperion. Take likewise the root of the navelwort, which in frosty weather draws out the painful chilblains on the feet of those with broken skin. Sometimes you may take the green leaves of the tall bindweed, or of hart's tongue, shearing off the stalk. Take too the Phlegyan all-heal, even that which the God of Healing was the first to pluck by the brim of the river Melas, when ministering to the wound of Iphicles Amphitryon's son, what time with Heracles he was burning the evil Hydra.
Now lay sudden hold on the marten's young or their mischievous mother, 690 and strip their fur over the flame of a fiercely blazing fire, and after rejecting all the inwards and the stomach's excrements, dress with holy salt, and then dry away from the light of the sun, so that its swift shafts do not shrivel the fresh carcase. But, when necessity comes upon you in anguish, rub the desiccated beast thoroughly with a rasp as though it were frail silphium or a round cake of dried milk, grating...

Readily, dear Hermesianax, most honoured of my many kinsmen, and in due order will I expound the forms of savage creatures and their deadly injuries which smite one unforeseen, and the countering remedy for the harm. And the toiling ploughman, the herdsman, and the woodcutter, whenever in forest or at the plough one of them fastens its deadly fang upon him, shall respect you for your learning in such means for averting sickness.
Now I would have you know, men say that noxious spiders, together with the grievous reptiles and vipers and the earth's countless burdens, are of the Titans' blood - 10 if indeed he spoke the truth, Ascraean Hesiod on the steeps of secluded Melissēeis by the waters of Permessus. And it was the Titan's daughter who sent forth the blighting scorpion with sharpened sting, when she compassed an evil end for Boeotian Orion, and attacked him after he had laid violent hands upon the immaculate raiment of the goddess. Thereupon the scorpion, which had lurked unobserved beneath a small stone, struck him in the ankle of his strong foot. But Orion's wondrous sign is set conspicuous, fixed there amid the constellations, 20 as of one hunting, dazzling to behold.
You for your part will easily chase and dispel all creeping things from farmstead and cottage, or from steep bank, or from couch of natural herbage, in the hour when, to shun parching summer's fiery breath, beneath the sky you make your bed on straw at nightfall in the fields and sleep, or else beside some unwooded hill or on the edge of a glen, where poisonous creatures feed in multitudes upon the forest, or beside the levelled perimeter of the threshing-floor, and where the grass 30 at its first burgeoning brings bloom to the shady water-meadows, at the time when the snake sloughs the withered scales of age, moving feebly forward, when in spring he leaves his den, and his sight is dim; but a meal of the fennel's sappy shoots makes him swift and bright of eye.
You may expel the hot and harmful doom that snakes bring, if you char the tined horn of a stag, or else set fire to dry lignite, which not even the violence of a fierce flame consumes. Cast also upon the fire the foliage of the male fern with its cloven fronds, 40 or take the heated root of the frankincense-tree mixed with an equal measure of garden-cress; and mingle the fresh, pungent horn of a roe, putting an equal weight of it in the balance. Burn also a portion no less heavy of the strong-smelling black cumin, or else of sulphur, or again of bitumen. Or you may ignite in the fire the Thracian stone, which when soaked in water glows, yet quenches its brightness at the least smell of a drop of oil. Herdsmen gather it for themselves from the river of Thrace which they call Pontus, where the Thracian shepherds 50 who eat ram's flesh so follow after their leisurely flocks. Again, the heavy-scented juice of all-heal stimulated over a fire, and the stinging nettle, and cedar cut with saws and ground to dust by their many-toothed jaws, produce in burning a smoky and repellent stench. With these means you may clear hollow clefts and couches in the woods, and may sink upon the ground and take your fill of sleep.
But if these things involve trouble, and night brings bed-time near, and you are longing for rest when your work is done, then gather to yourself among the eddies of some rushing river 60 the water-loving, leafy mint, for it grows in plenty by streams and is fed with the moisture about their edges, as it delights in gleaming rivers. Or you should cut and strew beneath you the flowering willow, or the strong-smelling hulwort, which has a most offensive odour; so too have viper's bugloss and the leaves of marjoram, aye, or of wormwood, which grows wild upon the hills in some chalky glen, or of tufted thyme from pasture-lands : tenacious of life it draws sustenance from a damp soil, deep-rooted, ever furnished with hairy leaves. 70 And you should mark the pale spikes of the low-growing fleabane and of the agnus castus, and the pungent stinking bean-trefoil. Likewise cut the rough twigs of the pomegranate, or else young and flourishing shoots of the asphodel, and deadly nightshade, and the horrid hypericum which injures the herdsman in the springtime when his cows are poisoned by eating the stalks; and further stems of the heavy-scented sulphurwort whose very odour scares snakes and chases them away should they approach you. so place some of these by you wherever you make a casual couch in the fields; others where snakes lurk, and a double quantity at their holes.
80 Now make in an earthen vessel or an oil-flask a paste of juniper berries and anoint your supple limbs - or of the heavy-scented sulphurwort; or else pound thoroughly in oil the dried leaves of fleabane from the hills, and likewise the healing salvia, adding the root of silphium, which the grater's teeth should grind small - many a time too have noxious creatures fled in terror from the scent of a man's spittle. But if you rub a caterpillar from the garden in a little vinegar, the dewy caterpillar with a green back, or if you anoint your limbs all about with the teeming fruit of the marsh mallow, 90 then you will pass the night unscathed. Also cast in and rub down in the stony heart of a mortar two leafy sprays of wormwood mixed with garden cress - an obol's weight is suitable - and with a pestle pound therein to smoothness a handful of fresh berries from the bay; then mould into rounds and put to dry in a shady, wind-swept spot; when dry break them in pieces in an oil-flask, and you can anoint your limbs with it at once.
If however you can cast snakes coupled at a crossroads, alive and just mating, into a pot, and the following medicaments besides, 100 you have a preventive against deadly disasters. Throw in thirty drachmas' weight of the marrow of a freshly killed stag and one-third of a chous of rose-oil, - essence which perfumers style 'prime' and 'medium' and 'well-ground' - and pour on an equal measure of raw, gleaming oil and one-quarter of wax. These you must quickly heat in a round, bellying pot until the fleshy portions are softened and come in pieces about the spine. Next take a shaped, well-made pestle and pound up these many ingredients in a mixture with the snakes; 110 but cast aside the vertebrae, for in them a venom no less deadly is engendered. Then anoint all your limbs, be it for a journey or for a sleep or when you gird yourself after work at the threshing-floor in summer's drought and with pronged forks winnow the high pile of grain.
But if you should chance to come upon biting creatures when your skin is un-medicined and you are fasting - that is the time when disaster strikes a man - you may readily save yourself by our precepts. It is the female snake that attacks with its bite those who encounter it; besides, it is thicker right down to the trailing tail, 120 and for that reason the doom of death will come more swiftly. But chiefly in summer must you be on your guard against harmful snakes, observing the rising of the Pleiads, those smaller stars which graze the tail of the bull in their course, when the dipsas either sleeps unfed with the young it broods, lurking in the recesses of its hole, or when it makes eagerly for its feeding-ground, or when therefrom, sated with the forest, it goes sleepily to its lair. Beware of meeting at the crossroads the dusky male viper when he has escaped from her bite and is maddened by the blow of the smoke-hued female, 130 in the season when, as the male covers her, the lustful female fastens upon him, tearing him with her foul fang, and cuts off the head of her mate; but forthwith in the act of birth the young vipers avenge their sire's destruction, since they gnaw through their mother's thin flank and thereby are born motherless. For alone of snakes the female viper is burdened with pregnancy, whereas oviparous snakes of the forest warm a membrane-enclosed brood. Beware too when the viper, having doffed the wrinkled scales of age, comes abroad again exulting in his new-found youth; beware when, after escaping in his hole from the trampling feet of deer, 140 he darts in fury his limb-corroding venom at men; for red deer and roe cherish a special anger towards long reptiles and track them down, exploring on every side stone-heaps, walls, and lurking-places, following hard after them with the dreadful breath of their nostrils.
Furthermore the snow-capped crags of Othrys too bear deadly serpents, and hollow gully and rough crags and woodland scaur, where haunts the thirst-provoking seps. It has a varying hue and not one alone, ever taking the colour of the place wherein it has made its hole. 150 Those that live in stony ground and cairns are smaller but fierce and irascible: no bite of theirs can fail of effect on man, but is malignant. Another's body is like a land-snail; yet another has scales of greenish hue which variegate its huge coil; and many there are that frequent dusty places and make their coils rough by wriggling in the sand.
Consider now the murderous asp, bristling with dry scales, the most sluggish of all snakes. 160 Its form is terrifying, but when in movement, it uncoils its weight slowly and ever seems to wear a fixed look in its drowsy eyes. Yet when it hears some strange noise or sees a bright light, it throws off from its body dull sleep and wreathes its coil in a circular ring upon the ground, and in the midst it rears its head, bristling in deadly fashion. Its length, horrible beyond that of any other of earth's creatures, measures a fathom, and its thickness is seen to be that 170 which a spear-maker fashions for a hunting-spear for fighting bulls and deep-voiced lions. Sometimes the colour spread over its back is dust-like, sometimes it is the yellow of a quince and sheeny, at other times an ashen hue, but often, when it grows dark with Aethiop soil, a smoky brown like the sludge which the many-mouthed Nile in flood pours into the sea, as it dashes against the waves. Above the brow over the eyes there appear, as it were, two calluses, while its eye beneath them glows bright red aloft over its coil and its dust-coloured neck swells up as it hisses continuously, 180 when in the violence of its wrath it fastens death upon wayfarers who meet it. It has four fangs, their underside hollow, hooked, and long, rooted in its jaws, containing poison, and at their base a covering of membranes hides them. Thence it belches forth poison unassuageable on a body. Be they no friends of mine whose heads these monsters assail. For no bite appears on the flesh, no deadly swelling with inflammation, but the man dies without pain, and a slumberous lethargy brings life's end.
190 Now the ichneumon alone escapes unharmed the asp's onset, both when it comes to fight and when it breaks on the ground all the baneful eggs which the deadly serpent is brooding, as it shakes them out from their membranes by biting them and crushes them in its destroying teeth. The form of this snake-tracking creature is that of the puny marten which seeks the destruction of domestic fowls, snatching them from their perches as they sleep, where they roost upon a beam or foster their feeble chicks, keeping them warm beneath their breast. 200 But when amid Egypt's rush-grown water-meadows they join with the wriggling asps in a fearsome struggle, forthwith the Ichneumon leaps into the river, strikes the slimy bottom with its paws, and rolling its small body smears its limbs at once with the mud, against the time when the Dog-Star's heat has dried its fur and made it so that no fang may rend it. And then it either springs upon the frightful head of the reptile with the flickering tongue and bites it, or seizing it by the tail, sends it rolling into the weedy river.
You would do well to mark the various forms of the viper. It may be long, it may be short; 210 for so Europe and Asia breed them, but you will not find them alike. Thus, in Europe they are smaller, and above the tip of their nostrils they are horned and white, those, that is, beneath the mountains of Sciron and the Pambonian steeps, Rhype, and the hill of Corax and hoary Aselenus; whereas Asia breeds snakes a fathom long and even more, such as are about rugged Bucarterus or are contained within the strong headland of Aesagea and in Cercaphus. The front of their heads is flat, and at the trailing end of its coil 220 the creature wriggles a stunted tail which is abundantly rough with dry scales. And this way and that through the brakes it strays with sluggish coil. But every male viper is seen to have a pointed head. In length he is sometimes larger, sometimes short, and in breadth of belly he is slimmer, while his tail stretches tapering away, and may be flattened towards the end of its trailing length or rubbed smooth of scales. But the eyes in his face turn blood- red when he is angered, and as his forked tongue flickers rapidly, he lashes the end of his tail. 230 Wayfarers call him the snaky Cocytus. Two fangs in his upper jaw, as they spit poison, leave their mark upon the skin, but of the female always more than two, for she lays hold with her whole mouth, and you can easily observe that the jaws have opened wide about the flesh. And from the wound she makes there oozes a discharge like oil or, it may be, bloody or colourless, while the skin around starts up into a painful lump, often greenish, now crimson, or again of livid aspect. At other times it engenders a mass of fluid, and about the wound small pimples 240 like slight blisters rise flabbily from the skin, which looks scorched. And all around spread ulcers, some at a distance, others by the wound, emitting a dark blue poison; and over the whole body the piercing bane eats its way with its acute inflammation; and in the throat and about the uvula retchings following fast upon one another convulse the victim. The body is oppressed also with failures of sense in every part, and forthwith in the limbs and loins is seated a burdening, dangerous weakness, and heavy darkness settles in the head. Meantime the sufferer 250 at one moment has his throat parched with dry thirst, often too he is seized with cold from the finger-tips, while all over his frame an eruption with wintry rage lies heavy upon him. And again a man often turns yellow all over his body and vomits up the bile that lies upon his stomach, while a moist sweat, colder than the falling snow, envelops his limbs. In some cases his colour is that of sombre lead, in others his hue is murky, or again it is like flowers of copper.
You would do well also to learn of the crafty cerastes, who attacks like the male viper, which he resembles in equality of size. 260 True, the viper is hornless, whereas the cerastes boasts sometimes four horns sometimes two, and his dust-coloured skin is rough, and it is his habit to sleep in the sand or in the ruts down a road. The viper writhing himself darts swiftly forward on a straight course with the long winding of his belly, whereas the cerastes rolls on with clumsy movements of his middle, meandering on a crooked path with his scaly back, like to the dinghy of a merchantman dipping its whole side in the brine when the wind is contrary, 270 as it forces its way to windward when driven back by the south-westerly gale. When the cerastes bites, the disfiguring wound turns callous all around like a wart, and livid blisters like drops of rain move round about the bite, dimly discernible to the eye. True, the man in whom the deadly cerastes strikes his mischief-working fang goes through less acute pain, but nine suns of suffering does he behold. And in either groin and the hams the trouble festers persistent ever, while his skin has a livid appearance. 280 And from their suffering little strength is left in the joints of those afflicted, and with difficulty do they escape death.
Next I will tell you what marks the blood-letting snake, which always sleeps in rocky ascents, making a small, rough lair under a hedge. There it has its lurking-place when it has gorged its fill. It equals a footprint in length, but as to breadth it dwindles tapering from the fiery head down. At times it is of a sooty hue, or again a reddish brown. It narrows moderately at the neck, and its tail is sharply compressed 290 and stretches flattened from the middle onward. In its forehead beneath its snow-white horns are planted two eyes, of which the irises are somewhat like those of locusts, and on high rises terrible its devouring head. And with an oblique and halting movement it ever steers its little body on its brief journeys from the middle of the back like the cerastes, scraping its belly over the earth, and with its scaly body it makes a slight rustling as though crawling through a heap of straw. But when first it bites, a swelling of dark, unhealthy hue rises, and a sore pain freezes the heart, 300 and the stomach's content turned to water gushes out, while on the first night after, blood wells from the nostrils and throat and ears, freshly infected with the bile-like venom; urine escapes all bloody; wounds on the limbs break open, hastened by the destruction of the skin. May no female blood-letter ever inject its venom into you! For when it has bitten, all together the gums swell from the very bottom, and from the finger nails the blood drips unstaunchable, while the teeth, clammy with gore, become loose.
If the tale be true, Bane-Helen coming from Troy was angered with this species 310 when her company beached their vessel by the tumultuous Nile as they fled before the dread onset of the north wind, what time she beheld Canobus, the helmsman, swooning on the sands of Thonis; for as he slept a female blood-letter, on which he had pressed, struck him in the neck and belched forth its deadly poison into him, turning his rest to ruin. Therefore Helen crushed the middle of its trailing shape, breaking the ligatures of the back about the spine, so that the backbone started from its body. From that day forward the blood-letter and the crooked-roving cerastes alone of snakes move haltingly, oppressed by their injury.
320 You would do well to recognise the form of the sepedon, which in other respects resembles the blood-letter in appearance, but it steers a straightforward path; moreover it is almost without horns, and its colour, like that of a carpet, is spread over a rough surface. Its head is heavy, but its tail appears short as it moves, for it curls the end like the rest of its body. Truly the wound of the sepedon is deadly and agonising, and its black, destroying poison pervades the entire body: upon the parched skin everywhere the hair withers and is dispersed like the down of a thistle when it is rubbed. 330 For from the head and the brows of the man who has been bitten the hairs break off and from the eyelids the dark lashes perish, while round spots bespeckle his limbs and leprous eruptions swiftly spread a chalk-like rash.
Again, the form of the dipsas will always resemble that of a small viper; yet death will come quicker to those whom this grim snake assails. Its thin tail, darkish throughout, grows blacker from the end forward. From its bite the heart is inflamed utterly, and in the fever the dry lips shrivel with parching thirst. 340 Meanwhile the victim, bowed like a bull over a stream, absorbs with gaping mouth drink past measuring, until his belly bursts his navel, spilling the too heavy load. Now there is a tale of ancient days current among men how, when the first-born seed of Cronus became lord of heaven, he apportioned to his brothers severally their illustrious realms, and in his wisdom bestowed upon mortals youth, honouring them because they had denounced the fire-stealer. The fools, they got no good of their imprudence: for, being sluggards and growing weary, they entrusted the gift to an ass for carriage, 350 and the beast, his throat burning with thirst, ran off skittishly....

NICANDER, 'ALEXIPHARMACA' The Greek text of the 'Alexipharmaca' can be found on the Poesia Latina website.
Even though the peoples from whom you and I, Protagoras, have derived our births did not set up the walls of their strong towers side by side in Asia, and a great space separates us, yet I can easily instruct you in the remedies for those draughts of poison which attack men and bring them low. You indeed have made your home by the tempestuous sea beneath bossy Arctus, where are the caverns of Lobrinian Rhea and the place of the secret rites of Attes; while I dwell where the sons of the far-famed 10 Creusa divided among themselves the richest portion of the mainland, settling by the tripods of Apollo in Clarus.
You must, to be sure, learn of the aconite, bitter as gall, deadly in the mouth, which the banks of Acheron put forth. There is the abyss of the Wise Counsellor {Hades} whence few escape, and there the towns of Priolas fell crashing in ruins.
All the drinker's jaws and the roof of his mouth and his gums are constricted by the bitter draught, as it wraps itself about the top of the chest, crushing with evil choking the man in the throes of heartburn. The top of the belly is gripped with pain - 20 the swelling, open mouth of the lower stomach, which some call the 'heart' of the digestive vessel, others the 'receiver' of the stomach - and the gate is closed immediately upon the beginning of the intestines where a man's food in all its abundance is carried in. And all the while from his streaming eyes drips the moisture; and his belly sore shaken vainly throws up wind, and much of it settles below about his mid-navel; and in his head is a grievous weight, and there ensues a rapid throbbing beneath his temples, and with his eyes he sees things double, like a man at night overcome with unmixed wine. 30 And as when the Silens, the nurses of the horned Dionysus, crushed the wild grapes, and having for the first time fortified their spirits with the foaming drink, were confused in their sight and on reeling feet rushed madly about the hill of Nysa, even so is the sight of these men darkened beneath the weight of evil doom. This plant men call also Mouse-bane, for it utterly destroys troublesome, nibbling mice ; but some call it Leopard's-choke, since cowherds and goatherds with it contrive the death of those great beasts 40 amid the glades of Ida in the vale of Phalacra. Again they name it Woman-killer and Crayfish. And the deadly aconite flourishes amid the Aconaean mountains.
For one so poisoned gypsum to the weight of a handful will perhaps be a protection, if you draw thereto tawny wine in due measure with the gypsum reduced to fine powder - let it be a full cotyle of wine - and add stalks of wormwood, cutting them from the shrub, or of bright green horehound which they call Honeyleaf; administer also a shoot of the herbaceous, evergreen spurge-olive and rue, quenching in vinegar and honey 50 a red-hot lump of metal between the jaws of the fire-tongs, or dross of iron which the flame of the fire has separated within the melting-pot in the furnace; or sometimes just after warming in the fire a lump of gold or silver you should plunge it in the turbid draught. Or again you should take leaves, half a handful's weight, of the ground pine; or a dry sprig of pot marjoram from the hills, or cut a fresh spray of field basil, and cover them in four cyathi of honey-sweet wine. Or you may take some broth, still meaty and undiluted, made from a domestic fowl 60 when the forcible glow of the fire beneath the pot reduces the body to pieces. Also you should render down the fresh meat of an ox abounding in fat and satisfy the stomach to its full capacity with the soup. Again, sometimes you should pour the juice of balsam into some drops of milk from a young girl, or else into water, until the patient discharges from his throat the undigested food. Sometimes too you should cut out the curd from the stomach of the nimble beast that sleeps open-eyed {hare}, or of a fawn, and give it mixed in wine; at other times cast the roots of the purple mulberry into the hollow of a mortar, 70 bray them mingled with wine, and give them boiled in the labours of the bee. Thus may you ward off loathsome sickness though it threaten to master a man, and he may once again walk on unfaltering feet.
In the second place consider the hateful brew compounded with gleaming, deadly white lead whose fresh colour is like milk which foams all over when you milk it rich in the springtime into the deep pails. Over the victim's jaws and in the grooves of the gums is plastered an astringent froth, and the furrow of the tongue turns rough on either side, 80 and the depth of the throat grows somewhat dry, and from the pernicious venom follows a dry retching and hawking, for this is severe; meanwhile his spirit sickens and he is worn out with mortal suffering. His body too grows chill, while sometimes his eyes behold strange illusions or else he drowses; nor can he bestir his limbs as heretofore, and he succumbs to the overmastering fatigue.
Give the patient at once a cupful of oil of the Premadia- or Orchis- or Myrtle- olive, so that the stomach being lubricated may void the evil drug; 90 or else you may readily milk the udder's swelling teat and give it him; but skim the oily surface from the draught. And you may infuse sprigs or leaves of the mallow in fresh sap and dose the sufferer with as much as he can take. Or again pound sesame seeds and administer them also in wine; or else heat and cleanse in water the ashes of vine twigs, and strain the lye through the interstices of a newly woven basket, for this will retain the sediment. Moreover if you rub down the hard stones of the persea in gleaming olive oil, they will ward off injury - 100 the persea which once on a time Perseus, when his feet bore him from the land of Cepheus and he had cut off the teeming head of Medusa with his falchion, readily made to grow in the fields of Mycenae (it was a recent gift of Cepheus) on the spot where the scabbard-chape of his falchion fell, beneath the topmost summit of Melanthis, where a Nymph revealed to the son of Zeus the famed spring of Langeia. Or else you should break up in roasted barley the sap which congeals upon the frankincense bushes of Gerrha; also as helpful you should dissolve in warm water the tears from the walnut-tree or from the plum or those which ever drip in plenty on the elm-twigs, 110 and drops of gum, so that he may vomit up part of the poison, and part render wholesome as he yields to the hot water when the sweat moistens his body. And again he might sate himself with a meal which he has taken or with strong wine and so escape an inglorious death.
When a liquid smells of the corn-eating blister-beetle, that is to say, like liquid pitch, refuse it, for on the nostrils it weighs like pitch and in the mouth like freshly eaten berries of the juniper. Sometimes in a weak infusion these creatures produce a biting sensation upon the lips, 120 or again deep down about the mouth of the stomach; at other times the middle of the belly or the bladder is gnawed and seized with griping pains, while discomfort attacks men where the cartilage of the chest rests over the hollow of the stomach. And the victims are distressed in themselves: swooning delusions hold in bondage what is human in them, and the victim is brought down unexpectedly by pain, like the freshly scattered thistledown which roams the air and is fluttered by every breeze.
At times administer to the patient doses of pennyroyal mixed with river water, making a posset of them in a mug. 130 This was the rich draught of the fasting Deo; once with this did Deo moisten her throat in the city of Hippothoōn by reason of the unchecked speech of Thracian Iambe. At other times take from your pot and mix with the round seeds of flax a rich draught brewed from the head of a hog or of a lamb or from the horned head of a goat which you have but lately cut off, or even, maybe, from a goose, and give it until the man is sick; and let him by tickling his throat stir up in the gullet below the entire mass of polluted food still undigested. At times you should draw the fresh milk of a sheep in a clyster-pipe, 140 administer a clyster and so empty the useless faeces from the bowel. At another time a draught of creamy milk will help the sufferer; or you should lop the green tendrils of the vine when they are fresh-burdened with leaves and chop them up in grape-syrup; or take from crumbling soil the ever sting-shaped roots of scorpius and steep in the bees' produce. The plant grows high like asphodel but sheds its stalks when withered. Also you should take four drachmas' weight of Parthenian earth which Phyllis brings forth under her mountain-spurs, 150 the snow-white earth of the Imbrasus which a horned lamb first revealed to the Chesiad Nymphs beneath the rush-grown river-banks of snowcapped Cercetes. Or brew a drink of boiled-down must of twice that quantity, and into it shred some sprigs of rue, kneading the herbs with rose-oil, or sometimes soak it in iris-oil, which has often cured an illness.
If however a man thoughtlessly taste from loathsome cups a draught, deadly and hard to remedy, of coriander, the victims are struck with madness 160 and utter wild and vulgar words like lunatics, and like crazy Bacchanals bawl shrill songs in frenzy of the mind unabashed. To such a case you should administer a cupful of hedanian wine, 'Pramnian', unmixed, just as it gushed from the vat. Or cast a cupful of salt into water and let it dissolve. Or else you should empty the fragile egg of a chicken and mix with it the sea-foam upon which the swift petrel feeds. It is with this that it sustains life, and also meets its doom, when the fishermen's destructive children assail with their tricks the swimming fowl; and it falls into the boys' hands as it chases the fresh and whitening surge of foam. 170 Do you also draw from the bitter, violet-hued sea - the sea, which, with fire too, the Earth-Shaker has enslaved to the winds. For fire is vanquished by hostile blasts: the undying fire and the expanse of waters tremble before the north-west winds; though the unruly sea, swift to anger, lords it over ships and over the men who perish in it, while to the rule of the abhorred fire the forest is obedient. Again, common oil mingled with wine or a drink of grape-syrup mixed with snow will stay the pain, 180 what time the reapers with their pruning-hooks lop the heavy, wrinkled vintage of the hedanian and the psithian vine and crush it, while with a humming sound bees and the tree-wasp, wasps and buzzers from the hills fall upon the grapes and feast their fill of sweetness, and the mischievous fox ravages the richer clusters.
Take note too of the noxious draught which is hemlock, for this drink assuredly looses disaster upon the head bringing the darkness of night: the eyes roll, and men roam the streets with tottering steps and crawling upon their hands; 190 a terrible choking blocks the lower throat and the narrow passage of the windpipe; the extremities grow cold; and in the limbs the stout arteries are contracted; for a short while the victim draws breath like one swooning, and his spirit beholds Hades.
Give the patient his fill of oil or of unmixed wine until he vomit up the evil, painful poison ; or prepare and insert a clyster ; or else give him draughts of unmixed wine, or cut and bring him twigs of sweet bay or bay of Tempe 200 (this was the first plant to crown the Delphian locks of Phoebus) ; or else pound some pepper with nettle seeds and administer them, or again infuse wine with the bitter juice of silphium. Sometimes you may offer him a measure of scented iris-oil and silphium shredded in with gleaming oil. Also give him a draught of honey-sweet grape-syrup, and a foaming vessel of milk which you have slightly warmed over the fire.
There are even means of promptly averting the oppression caused by deadly arrow-poison, when a man is overcome with anguish from drinking it. First, his tongue begins to thicken from the root 210 and weighs upon the lips which are heavy and swollen about the mouth; he suffers from a dry expectoration, and his gums break open from the base. Often too his heart is smitten with palpitations, and it is his fate that all his wits are stunned and overthrown by the evil poison; and he makes bleating noises, babbling endlessly in his frenzy; often too in his distress he cries aloud even as one whose head, the body's master, has just been cut off with the sword; or as the acolyte with her tray of offerings, Rhea's priestess, appearing in the public highways on the ninth day of the month, raises a great shout with her voice, while the people tremble 220 as they hearken to the horrible yelling of the votary of Ida. Even so the man in his frenzy of mind bellows and howls incoherently, and as he glances sidelong like a bull, he whets his white teeth and foams at the jaws.
You must even bind him fast with twisted ropes and make him drunk with wine, with gentle force filling him to satiety even against his will; then force his gnashing teeth apart in order that under your mastering hand he may vomit up the deadly stuff. Or divide up and boil till soft over a bright fire the young gosling of a free-feeding goose; 230 you should also give him the wild fruit of the rough-barked apple-tree grown upon the hills after cutting off the inedible parts; or even those kinds that pertain to the fields, such as the spring seasons bring forth for girls to sport with; or again pear-quinces, or else the famed fruit of the grim Cydon, which Cretan torrents have fostered. Or sometimes, after sufficiently pounding all these with a mallet, you should soak them in water and then throw in some fresh and fragrant pennyroyal and stir in together with apple-pips. Also you may soak up some fragrant rose-oil or iris-oil into wool 240 and let it drip into his parted lips. Yet hardly may a man after countless sufferings at the end of many days launch with safety his unsteady steps, while his startled gaze roams this way and that. This is the poison with which the nomads of Gerrha and they who plough their fields by the river Euphrates smear their brazen arrow-heads. And the wounds, quite past healing, blacken the flesh, for the stinging poison of the Hydra eats its way in, while the skin, turning putrid with the infection, breaks into open sores.
But if a man taste the loathsome fire of Colchian Medea, 250 the notorious meadow-saffron, an incurable itching assails : his lips all over as he moistens them, such as comes upon those whose skin is defiled with the snow-white juice of the fig-tree or by the stinging nettle or by the many-coated head of the squill, which fearfully inflames the flesh of children. But if he retain the poison, there settles in his gullet a pain which at first eats into it and presently lacerates it from below with desperate retching as he disgorges the poison from his throat; and at the same time the belly also voids the polluted scourings, even as a carver pours off the turbid water in which the meat was washed.
260 Now sometimes you should cut and administer the crinkled leaves of the oak, or else those of the Valonia oak together with the acorns; or you should draw fresh milk in a pail and then let the man swallow his fill of the milk after retaining it in his mouth. At times to be sure shoots of knot-grass will help, or else the roots boiled in milk. You should also infuse vine-tendrils in water, or equally well shoots of bramble which you have chopped. Further, you should strip the green hulls of a well-grown chestnut-tree that cover the thin-skinned nut 270 where the dry husk encloses the inner flesh of the nut so hard to peel which the land of Castanea brings forth. You may suitably extract the inmost pith of the giant fennel which received the spoils of Prometheus's thieving, and at the same time throw in a quantity of leaves of the evergreen tufted thyme and of the berries of the styptic myrtle; or you might perhaps soak the rind of the chamaeleon-thistle, 280 which has a smell like that of basil . The furrow of the victim's tongue grows rough at the base and inflamed from below, and his heart wanders within him. In his frenzy he gnaws his tongue with his dog-teeth, for at times his madness overmasters his wits, while the stomach blinds with wanton obstruction the two channels of liquid and solid food, and rumbles with the wind it has penned within, which circulating in a confined track often seems like the thunder of stormy Olympus, or again like the wicked roaring of the sea 290 as it booms beneath rocky cliffs. Distressed though he is, despite his efforts scarce can the wind escape upward; yet medicinal draughts can at once make him void egg-shaped stools, like the shell-less lumps which the free-feeding fowl, when brooding her warlike chicks, sometimes under stress of recent blows drops from her belly in their membranes ; sometimes under stress of sickness she will cast out her ill-fated offspring upon the earth.
The familiar astringent draught of wormwood steeped in freshly pressed grape-syrup will check his pain; 300 sometimes too you may cut up the resin of the terebinth-tree, or else the tears of the Corsican pine, or again of the Aleppo pine which makes moan on the spot where Phoebus stripped the skin from the limbs of Marsyas; and the tree, lamenting in the glens his far-famed fate, alone utters her passionate plaint unceasingly. Give him also plenty of the flowers of the bright hulwort, fatal to mice, or strip the low-growing shoots of rue, and spikenard, and take also the testicle of the beaver that dwells in the lake; or rub down an obol of silphium with a toothed scraper, or else cut off the same quantity of its gum. 310 Sometimes too he may be given his fill of the wild goat's marjoram, or of milk just curdling in the pail after milking.
But if a man in his folly taste the fresh blood of a bull he falls heavily to the ground in distress, overmastered by pain, when, as it reaches the chest, the blood congeals easily, and, in the hollow of his stomach, clots; the passages are stopped, the breath is straitened within his clogged throat, while, often struggling in convulsions on the ground, he gasps bespattered with foam.
You should cut off for him some juicy wild figs, 320 soak in vinegar, and then mingle the whole with water, stirring together the water and the astringent draught of vinegar; or drain away the burden of his surcharged belly. Also you should strain through a porous bag of fine linen some stirred curd either from a fawn of roe or red deer or from a kid; or again if you take some from the nimble hare you will bring healing and help to the sufferer. Or give him three obols' weight of well-powdered soda, and mix it in a sweet draught of wine; mix too a pound weight with equal parts of silphium and of its gum, 330 and seed of cabbage soaked thoroughly in vinegar. And give him a sprig of flea-bane with its ill-coloured leaves. Or you should bruise some pepper and buds of the bramble-bush; then you will easily dissipate a mass of congealing blood, or break it up if it has lodged in the vessels.
Do not let the agonising drink of the hateful buprestis escape your knowledge; and you should recognise a man overcome by it. In truth, when bitten, its contact with the jaws seems that of soda; it has an evil smell; and all about the mouths of the stomach arise shifting pains; 340 the urine is stopped and the lowest : part of the bladder throbs, while the whole belly is inflated, as when a tympanitic dropsy settles in abundance about the mid navel, and all over the man's limbs the skin is visibly taut. This creature too, I fancy, causes swelling in plump-bellied heifers or calves, whenever they bite it as they graze. For this reason herdsmen name...

Previous case
The infected deer are starting to become a real problem. That being said, as the title suggests, the worms are the least of my worries.
(If you're not familiar with what Orion Pest Control's services are, it may help to start here.)
On my drive home a few nights ago, I saw the reflection of eyes in the distance. As I slowed down, I discovered a buck standing in the middle of the road, head bent over gray fur.
It was eating an opossum. Or, more accurately, the worms puppeteering it were coiling around the opossum, their mouths leaving huge holes in the poor animal's fur as they dragged it between the deer's open jaws.
Like the infected doe I'd encountered before, the buck’s stomach was pulsating as the worms moved. Its fur was unruly, the white patch over its throat stained with layers of dried blood.
My stomach fluttered in disgust at the way the parasites protruded from its mouth. God, those worms… Steeling myself, I snatched my toolbelt off of the passenger seat along with the shotgun and went out to take care of it. Unfortunately, I only had regular shells that time. After the incident at the farm, I hadn't had the time to restock on salt shells. They would've made this process much faster and easier.
I just had to shoot it in the head, then pour salt on each worm afterwards. Same as before. No problem, right?
The sound that the worms made as they devoured the opossum made my skin crawl. The sliminess of their skin as they slithered around each other combined with the wet tearing of flesh and fur. Whatever you're imagining, I assure you that the noise was far more nauseating in real life.
Before the worms or their host had a chance to notice me, I took aim and pulled the trigger. The side of the buck's head exploded. It let out a deep, guttural groan as the worms dropped from around the trapped rodent.
The buck then lowered its antlers at me. Fuckfuckfuck! I sprinted for my car as it charged me, the worms flopping around as they were dragged across the road by their host. I got out of the way just as the buck's antlers pierced my G6's hood. It shook its head violently, my little car shaking along with it as it tried to get its antlers free.
Why was it so much more aggressive than the doe? Had it been infected longer?
Just as I raised the shotgun again, I felt something brush against my foot. I was so glad that nobody was around to see me yelp like a coyote as I expertly flailed away from the worm that had taste-tested my boot.
There was an ear-splitting, metallic groan as the buck got its antlers free. I stepped away from the worms as I fired again. The buck fell to the side, causing the worms to lurch to the ground like cut ropes. Heroically, I backed away from them even more as they began to convulse, fumbling with shaking hands to get the salt out of my toolbelt.
The area around me became much brighter as another vehicle made its way down the road. I got off to the side to lower the chances of getting hit, then otherwise ignored it as I finished the job by seasoning the parasites, grimacing as they writhed against their salty demise.
From behind me, I heard the oncoming vehicle start to slow down. I had just finished salting the final worm when the driver completely slowed to a stop. Glaring against the headlights, dread pooled in my stomach as I recognized the old, boxy blue Ford pickup. I'd seen it parked at the mechanic's shop every time I've had to go over there.
What was he doing here?
Coincidences don't exist in this line of work. I hadn't seen the mechanic since that day he'd turned me into a dog. I'd went out of my way to try to avoid him, which in hindsight, I probably could've been more subtle about.
It occurred to me to run. A frightened, primal impulse. But if I'm right about what the mechanic is, that'd be a horrible idea. They take cruel delight in hunting their prey down. Not knowing what else to do as my heart raced, I made sure that the buck and the worms were dead, shooting the infected animal in the head one last time. It didn't move. Neither did the worms.
The truck's door creaked open, then slammed shut. And with the sound of his boots on the gravel, I said a quick prayer, hoping that whatever god heard me would be a merciful one.
The mechanic grimaced at the dead worms, “Hoo, those things are nasty.”
All I could think of to say in my state was, “…Yeah.”
Brilliant, right?
He clicked his tongue, then walked over to my G6, shaking his head. “It sure did a number on this.”
For the first time, I got to see the extent of the damage that the buck had done to my poor little car. The hood was crumpled and riddled with several small holes. I had left it running, but after the attack, the engine had gone quiet. My dread worsened as I noticed that some sort of fluid was pooling beneath the front of the car.
The mechanic popped the hood, absent-mindedly nudging a dead worm out of the way with his heel as he examined my suffering car.
“Yeah, that's the fuckin’ radiator.” The mechanic commented. “This thing ain't going anywhere.”
You've gotta be kidding me.
I'm not a car person. I didn't know if he was messing with me or not. I stammered, “Are… are you serious?”
He closed my hood, “You see me laughing, puppydog?”
Prick.
“Please don't call me that.” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible.
He snickered, “What would you like me to call you, then?”
I replied, “Let's go back to ‘stranger.’”
He pursed his lips, “But we're really not strangers anymore, now, are we?”
I didn't like that he'd taken enough of an interest in me to want to use something other than a generic nickname for me. I didn't trust this. Not one bit.
The mechanic patted the G6's hood noisily before stepping over a worm to stand in front of me, “Well, I can tow this thing to the shop, then start workin’ on it in the morning. In the meantime, why don't you let me give you a lift?”
Oh, FUCK no.
“Thanks, but I have people I can call.” I replied, eyes on his chest to avoid his gaze.
He chuckled, “You really don't like accepting help when it's offered, do you?”
That was a warning. Don't push it.
Doing everything in my power to keep my voice calm, I asked, “Will you expect something in return?”
With a grin, he replied, “Just the pleasure of your company.”
I don't like this.
As much as I would've preferred to take my chances walking home and dealing with literally any other atypical animal that could be prowling the night, I was too afraid to wear the mechanic's patience any thinner.
He either read my mind or my thoughts showed on my face because he then added with a smirk, “You can bring your gun, if that'll make you feel safer.”
Unable to shake the feeling that I was going to the gallows, I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of his truck, flipping the safety switch on the shotgun before setting it on the floor against my leg.
The interior smelled pleasantly of black cherries. I'd expected the stench of motor oil. He wordlessly nativated the truck in front of my broken down car, then jumped back out again to hook everything up.
While he was busy with that, I quickly texted Victor and Reyna, ‘broke down. mechanic found me. taking me somewhere. not sure where yet.’
For good measure, I also shared my location with them. Afterwards, I jammed my phone back into my pocket, then peered into the side mirror to watch the mechanic. He was pulling on the chains he'd attached to my G6, testing their tightness. He looked like he was almost done.
My phone buzzed, but I didn't dare take it out again.
The mechanic climbed back into the driver's seat with a sigh. As the old pickup started down the road, my unease kept building. I felt like I shouldn't move or breathe too much, for some strange reason. This might sound dramatic, but I would've felt safer being trapped in a cage with a hungry lion. At least a lion would just shred me and be done with it.
I reminded myself that I was still wearing my toolbelt. He'd let me take the shotgun. I didn't know how effective salt, shells, or a silver blade would be against him, but it was slightly reassuring to know that I wasn't completely defenseless. Just slightly. The fact that he'd let me keep all of it told me that he didn't consider me a threat to him, even while armed.
The mechanic glanced at me, “I don't know about you, but I'm starving. I was on my way to Dillon's when I found you.”
Dillon's is an old 50's style diner that’s about a half hour walk away from my apartment. It's cheap, greasy, and gets the job done, especially when you're hungover.
The mechanic looked and sounded deceptively friendly as he spoke again, “Though, I am glad that we ran into each other! There's something that I've been wanting to discuss with you.”
That couldn't be good. I stared through the windshield, only looking over at him occasionally to avoid any possibility of him catching my eye.
The mechanic continued, “You remember when I told you the other night that you impressed me? I meant that. And humans don't normally impress me much, so… make of that what you will. However, you also tried to get smart with me and that is the shit I hate. You can be as polite as you want, but insolence is insolence, no matter how much you try to sugarcoat it.”
Even though his tone remained light, the nervous pit in my stomach grew into a gaping chasm. Was he still angry? And if he was, what did that mean for me?
The mechanic side-eyed me briefly as if he expected me to say something.
My phone buzzed in my pocket again. One of my coworkers tried to call me.
Another thing yinz need to know about dealing with the Neighbors: never use the words ‘I'm sorry,’ the reason being that an apology is an admission of a debt to them. If you have to atone for a transgression (and it is highly recommended that you do so), your phrasing matters.
I hoped that humbling myself would appease him, “My actions were a waste of your time and I absolutely regret them. It won't happen again.’
The mechanic snickered, “See, that's just it. You're so… fuck, what's the word I'm looking for? I heard it just the other day and it reminded me of you. Oh, right! Unctuous. You ever hear that word before?”
I told him I hadn't.
“It means someone who's insincerely polite. They tell you what you want to hear just to get what they want. Sound familiar, pup?”
He'd never been this ruthless in our interactions before. I needed to be careful.
Feeling my mouth get dry from impending panic, I shook my head, “That's not it. I just try to watch what I say. I don't mean for it to come off as disingenuous.”
Throughout this whole conversation, his smile stayed in place. He was enjoying making me squirm. As much as it killed me to give him that satisfaction, I couldn't hide it: even without that banjo around, I was terrified of him.
He replied, “You see why I'm glad we ran into each other? This is something that's been on my mind for a bit. Coulda gotten it outta the way a whole lot sooner, if you hadn't been hiding from me.”
I knew better than to insist that I wasn't avoiding him, especially since I was already on dangerously thin ice. And we were still far enough away from town that if he were to decide to pull over right then and there, no one would notice what happened to me until it was too late.
Swallowing back my nervousness, I asked, “What happens now?”
“That whole nasty business two weeks ago didn't need to happen. All you had to do was find your boss, which you already wanted to do anyway. But instead, you decided to be a smartass. From now on, don't get smart with me and just do your job. That ain't asking for much, is it?”
Trying to get more saliva in my dry mouth to swallow again, I hurriedly nodded, “No, it's not. I’ll do better.”
“Glad we're understandin’ each other, pup.”
Despite the mechanic's relaxed demeanor, I still didn't feel safe in that truck. We were getting closer to town. My phone didn't stop vibrating. I just hoped that he was taking me to where he said we were going.
There is a bit of conflict in our records as to whether or not the Neighbors can lie. Some sources state that they can only speak the truth, others say that they are able to be just as dishonest as humans. Either way, it's best to operate under the assumption that their intentions are to manipulate.
The mechanic then cheerily asked, “Now that we got that unpleasantness out of the way, I gotta know, how'd you get so good with a gun? I've seen ol’ blue eyes shoot, and that man can't hit the broad side of a barn, so I know he ain't the one that taught ya.”
Military records are public. If he learned even something as miniscule as my last name, it wouldn't be hard to identify me or my mom from there. The Neighbors have been known to seek out the family members of those who've slighted them. Entire bloodlines have been destroyed in this manner. I've seen it happen before, but that's a story for another time.
I can't stress this enough: never let a Neighbor learn your name.
I struggled to find a balance between being vague enough to protect myself, but detailed enough to satisfy him, “I wanted to learn how to defend myself when I was younger, so I found some good teachers.”
I must've missed the mark because the mechanic shook his head and chuckled, “You're doing it again. That annoying indirect shit. Why don't you try giving me a real answer, for once?”
Feeling my heart flutter, I muttered, “Armed forces.”
That was still vague. I didn't specify which of the armed forces. He could deduce when I served based on my age, but even then, that was still thousands of soldiers to sort through. Hopefully, that would be enough to protect us.
“Thank you for your service.” He said, his tone slightly mocking.
He could taunt me as much as he wanted. At least he accepted that answer. I just hoped that I wouldn't face any repercussions for being too vague earlier.
More streetlights were appearing. We were in town, getting closer to Dillon's. Assuming that he had been telling the truth about our destination.
This was the longest drive of my life. If the truck hadn't been going so fast, I would've been tempted to tuck and roll. And again… if the mechanic is what I think he is, he'd probably love it if I gave him the opportunity to chase me.
I had to know for sure, though. Just so that I knew how to properly deal with him.
Doing my best to sound meek (not hard, in the moment), I tried to word my question carefully, “Are you a Wild Huntsman?”
Once again, not taking the risk of typing or saying the ‘S’ word, especially since I haven't heard from that one person that commented that term on my last post.
Speaking of… are you still alive and in one piece, u/Holiday-Space?
The mechanic laughed, “Too afraid to say it, huh? Come on, I dare you!”
“No thanks.”
One of you is bad enough. Don't need any of your hunting buddies to show up.
The mechanic shook his head at me as he snickered, “Coward.”
Up ahead was Dillon's old purple neon sign. To my relief, the mechanic pulled into the parking lot. With it being so late, there were only two vehicles there besides the mechanic's truck (not including my comatose G6.)
Anxious to get out of there, I reached for the handle only for the door to swing open before I could grab it. The mechanic was holding the door open for me. I hadn't even heard the driver's side open.
See why I didn't try to run from him?
It took a lot of effort to sound sincere as I said, “What a gentleman.”
He nodded towards Dillon's, “After you.”
Even though the idea of having to spend more quality time with the mechanic made me want to crawl out of my own skin, I felt marginally safer in public. He wouldn't risk exposing himself when he has a shop to run. At least, I didn't think he would.
The girl that seated us blushed the moment she saw him. For her sake, I hope he doesn't ever decide to take advantage of her crush.
I was so keyed up that food was the last thing on my mind. It took our poor, flustered waitress asking me twice before I could order only a glass of water.
After she walked away, the mechanic leaned forward, forearms resting on the table as he said in a low voice, “You know, you don't have to act like a hostage, right?”
Wasn't I though? He did take me there against my will, after all.
I whispered, “Why am I here? What else do you want?”
“I already told you. I want your company. We're just talking. That's it.”
If that was true, then why go through the effort of intimidating me? Granted, he didn't have to do much. My mind raced as I tried to remember anything helpful that the boss could've told me. I recalled then that Victor had said that the mechanic couldn't do anything to him while he was still alive. There must be some sort of condition that has to be met.
The waitress scurried over with the mechanic's coffee and my water, turning an even deeper shade of red when the mechanic flashed an admittedly charming smile at her. When her eyes met mine, she looked somewhat embarrassed. It occurred to me then that to someone on the outside of all of this atypical nonsense, it probably looked like I was his extremely anxious and somewhat disheveled date.
Christ. Just kill me.
Now that I had humiliation to add on top of all of the other negative emotions I was experiencing, I sipped at the metallic-tasting ice water, grateful to give my parched tongue some relief.
As the mechanic added at least ten sugar packets to his coffee, he said, “Try to relax a little, alright? If I'd wanted to hurt you, I coulda taken care of that out on the road.”
Was that supposed to be reassuring?
After a deep breath, trying to lessen my nerves, I uttered, “You… want a little coffee with your sugar?”
He snorted, “Judge me all you want. It's like a drinkable candy bar.”
I stared down at my paper placemat that doubled as a menu. The last thing I wanted was to meet his gaze. It was harder to avoid it when seated together in a small booth. In retrospect, I think that's what he was counting on.
He'd said something alarming about Victor that made me reflexively glance up in shock, aiming to just look at his chest again. I don't even remember what he'd said.
The phone ringing in the kitchen… Mom kneeling down to hug me, making my shoulder wet… My father glaring at me through bullet proof glass…
I shook my head, blinking. What? Fingertips on my chin, leaning in as if to kiss me. The mechanic's eyes are hazel.
Our garage spray painted ‘MURDERER’... A fist pummeling my nose in the school hallway… My black kitten Maisie trotting towards me… That recruiter’s shit eating grin… Sargent Wilcox screaming, ‘Come on, you useless fucks!’... Yelling for a medic as I held my hands over Oliver's bleeding stomach…
Wait… what happened? A warm, gloved hand over my eyes. My cheeks were wet. When did I start crying? As I came to my senses, I recognized Reyna’s perfume.
The mechanic's voice made me stiffen. It's tone was sultry, with a menacing edge to it, “And who might you be?”
“No one.” She replied hurriedly, her voice bearing a slight quiver. She then whispered to me, “Let's go.”
Even though I couldn't see him, I could tell the mechanic was smiling as he told us that he'd see us later.
Due to our height difference, (I'm 6'1 while Reyna meets the requirements for the Lollipop Guild) her hand uncovered my face naturally as I stood up to leave. I refused to look in the mechanic's general direction. We rushed out. I could tell he was watching to see which car we'd go into. Fortunately, Reyna had the foresight to park behind the building.
I should also mention that Reyna had disguised herself. She wore red heart-shaped sunglasses and a scarf over her head, like a starlet from the golden age of Hollywood. She even wore platforms to try to appear taller. While it wasn't very discreet, it would hopefully keep the mechanic from recognizing her. Once we got to her Monte Carlo and peeled out, she ripped the sunglasses off.
Glancing into the rearview mirror for the what felt like the eighth time as Dillon's faded away behind us, Reyna frantically asked, “What did he do to you? I walked in and… you were just…”
He'd flipped through my mind like the pages of a book. I told her as much. She asked me if I was okay. I wasn't sure.
“We’re going to my place.” She informed me, checking the mirror again. “Vic and I agreed it's probably safest since the mechanic knows the least about me. And I'd love to keep it that way.”
I nodded, still unreeling from having my memories dug into, “Sounds good.”
Further on down the road, she noticeably stiffened when she saw a pair of headlights come up behind us. I reminded her that he didn't know what her car looked like. She didn't speed up, keeping the car at the speed limit to not draw attention to ourselves.
The headlights got closer. Turns out, it was just some impatient idiot with a lifted Dodge Ram truck. We both let out groans of relief when the ugly, oversized vehicle passed us.
“I never thought I'd actually be glad to see a pavement princess.” Reyna commented with a nervous laugh.
She then suddenly asked, “Is the mechanic an incubus?”
Feeling the beginnings of a headache behind my left eye, I answered, “I wish. That'd be a lot simpler.”
“Ah, okay. Wonderful. Lovely. And uh, don't worry about answering everything I say. I'm just kinda talking because I don't know what else to do, so if you want to ignore me, feel free.”
I ended up calling Victor, putting him on loudspeaker so that Reyna could hear.
He answered on the first ring, “What happened? Are you alright?”
I caught him up on everything. After I was done, he sighed, “Okay. If you don't mind me asking, when he got into your head, what did he see?”
“My sperm donor getting arrested, me getting beaten up in middle school, bootcamp, and a buddy dying after an ambush in Afghanistan.”
“Was your name used in any of those memories?”
“No.”
“Okay. That's good at least. I'm sorry you were forced to relive all of that.”
I didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Victor saved me from having to respond by continuing, “I was afraid of this. When a Hunter takes an interest in someone, especially someone that they can't take right away, they start off with trying to break the target down. Using fear and intimidation to make the person feel isolated, sometimes even driving them insane. The mechanic is trying to start that process with you.”
What he was saying checked out with everything that I'd researched about The Hunt. They are said to be attracted to bereavement, often pursuing those who've experienced a great loss or heartbreak. They interpret it as weakness. The more vulnerable their victim is, the easier it is for The Hunt to devour them. That explained why the mechanic had gravitated towards some of the most traumatic experiences of my life.
I'd read somewhere that they find brave, good-natured people especially appetizing, even though they're the hardest for The Hunt to take. By being unable to cry out when I was transformed, I think I’d unintentionally convinced the mechanic that I was that type of person. And it made him hungry.
Victor bitterly informed us, “He's not going to chase you tonight. He has your gun and your car. He knows you’ll go to him.”
Slowly, the fear became replaced with anger. And spite. The mechanic could disarm me and use my worst moments against me, but I resolved then that I wouldn't let that fucker intimidate me. I wouldn't give him what he wanted.
If he wanted to think I was something special, I'd give him something fucking special.
“Vic, can you get her things so that she doesn't have to deal with him?” Reyna asked.
Before he could answer, I shook my head, “No. I don't want the mechanic to think that I'm afraid. I mean… I am but he doesn't need to know that.”
Victor warned, “By confronting him, you could make the hunt more thrilling for him. That might encourage him to be more aggressive towards you.”
I shrugged, “I'm screwed either way. At least this way, I'm screwed on my own terms.”
For the first time in a long time, Victor sounded like he might've been smiling. I haven't seen him smile since before he showed up with that bandana covering his slit throat. “We can start by finding a hagstone. That's easier said than done… but, something's telling me that there'll be one at Beaver Run. Check there.”
According to our records, draugr have a limited ability to see the future. Maybe that ‘strange feeling’ was actually a premonition. It certainly wouldn't hurt to check.
“Tomorrow morning, while the mechanic is at his shop, it's hagstone time.” I announced.
“I'll help.” Reyna offered, but then quickly added. “Unless you need me to cover for her tomorrow, Vic.”
“If you wouldn't mind doing a half-day, that'd be best.”
“Okay, can do!”
Victor wished us luck, then hung up.
Forgive me, but I'm going to go off on a brief tangent: Reyna has a pet skunk. Her name is Fireball. I'm mentioning this because that little skunk was basically free therapy after the night I'd had. And in all my days of having to dig the little guys out from under people's houses, I never really had a chance to appreciate how cute they are.
“She can't spray.” Reyna assured me when the little critter trotted over to sniff me. For those that aren't aware, skunks are typically quiet, but when they do vocalize, they sound like weed whackers.
Reyna stared down at Fireball, “What are you ‘meeping’ at?”
Fireball stomped at her, then jumped back. In the wild, they do this when they're trying to intimidate predators, so if you encounter a skunk and they do this, it's best to back off. However, in Fireball's case, they might also stomp when they're feeling sassy.
Reyna put her hands up in an annoyed gesture, “What's with the attitude?”
The skunk stomped again. Reyna huffed, “Jeez, you act like you're starving to death. You still have food in your bowl, idiot! Just because you can see a little bit of the bottom doesn’t mean it's empty!”
After we quadruple-checked to make sure that every entrance into Reyna’s apartment was salter, I settled down on the couch to get some sleep. At one point in the night, Fireball ended up curled up in my lap. That healed me.
The search for a hagstone wasn't going to be an easy one. They're stones with holes in the middle, normally found near bodies of water. In the old tales, these stones are valuable tools against the Neighbors for a variety of reasons, one of them being they can protect against curses and ward off evil. They also have been said to allow humans to see things that would normally be hidden to us when looking through the middle of the stone.
In other words, if our records were accurate, it was the key to leveling the playing field when it came to the mechanic.
I was in the river not long after the sun rose. Even though the water was cold this early in the summer, my spite kept me warm. I dug through the riverbed for hours until I came across a white stone with a large hole in its lumpy center.
Good to know that Victor's newfound draugr intuition was accurate.
I have the hagstone hanging on a chain around my neck, tucked under my shirt. I wasn't sure what effect the hagstone would have on the mechanic. At the very least, maybe I could see what he actually looked like.
Later that afternoon, Victor called to tell me that my car was done. Moment of truth. Even with the hagstone, I wasn't looking forward to being in close quarters with the mechanic again. But I reminded myself that I wasn't going to let that sadistic fuck frighten me into hiding again. No more avoiding him.
The mechanic greeted me, boyish grin in place, “Long time no see, pup!”
Feeling the weight of the hagstone as a comforting weight around my neck, I said, “I was told that my car is done. Think I left my shotgun in your truck, as well.”
“You did. You left in such a hurry. Probably had a lot on your mind, I imagine.”
Fuck you.
He set my keys on the counter, along with my shotgun, then leaned forward to rest on his forearms, “Come and get ‘em.”
I didn't know if the hagstone would keep him out of my head and I wasn't about to find out the hard way. He already knew more about me than I was comfortable with. I kept my eyes low.
As I approached the counter, he suddenly stepped back, eyes narrowed. Unfortunately, he didn't lose that grin. That was a shame; I was hoping to wipe it off of his face.
The mechanic let out a short laugh, “I see you came prepared.”
I sounded braver than I felt, “Of course I did. Now, how much for the repairs?”
His smile turned mysterious as he gave me my total. He didn't come closer to the counter while I stood by it; I had to back up for him to be able to run my card. After that was done, he set it on the counter next to my other belongings, leaning against the back of some old clunker he had lined up to work on.
As I hurried to get my things, the mechanic suddenly asked, “You can't tell me that you ain't curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“‘Bout what I really look like.” He smirked, folding his arms across his chest. “Go on. Take a peek.”
As tempting as it was, it wasn't hard to deduce his ulterior motive, “You just want to know where I have the stone hidden.”
He chuckled, “Yeah, that's true. You got me there. But wouldn't you like to know what you're really dealing with?”
“I already do. I don't need to see a monster to know it's there.”
Judging by the way his eyes slitted, he did not care for that comment. I knew I was probably going to regret that later. He already wanted to hunt me for sport. What did it matter if I clapped back at him just one time?
His voice lowered, “When your heart stops, puppydog, you better pray the devil finds you before I do. You'll crave Hell before I'm through with you.”
Hoping that he couldn't see my hands shaking, I grabbed my things and got out without another word. The G6 was working even better than it had before the deer incident.
After that interaction… I think I'm going to look for more hagstones. And I'm going to restock on salt shells.

Hey guys. My partner and I were trying some new things, unprotected anal earlier this week and I felt still very wet after the fact, is this normal?
My period tracker said I was ovulating right about today, but I had sex on Monday….. I don’t have access to any pregnancy tests or anything but my stomach hurts after every meal and I’m sort of nervous that I could potentially be pregnant. That’s my only symptom.
I should start my period on Monday so I’m hoping everything is fine but I’m still very nervous. Is there potential it could just have been excess vaginal fluid and I’m overreacting since it was anal? I’ve seen things that there could be a potential for getting pregnant but there’s also no chance of pregnancy. So I don’t know what to trust. No sore breasts, no bloating, maybe a headache here and there but I have chronic headaches so…. No cramping, No bleeding. No morning sickness. Just nausea after I eat.
Could I just be making myself nervous? Or dehydrated or something?
I just need a second opinion… thanks!!

Never lucid dreamed before but always had pretty vivid dreams I remembered. Randomly thought I’d try lucid to see if it works following a guidance post in this sub. Was actually a bit of a sceptic. And ahhh yep. It worked. Here is the detailed events I wrote for anyone interested.
———-
23 May - roughly 3 am / attempted lucid dream as per WILD method. It worked, transition process felt body buzzing, and eyes felt deep and heavy (kind of felt like maybe dying?). I got scared of the sensation and forced myself awake half way through the process. Resulted in a slight headache on the right side of my head.
23-May - roughly 330 am. Was so dissapointed in myself that I punked out and hoped I’d get another opportunity. So pissed at myself that I had the opportunity and let fear take over.
23-May - roughly 7am. Lucid dream transition process began again, didn’t let it affect me and followed it through , after I followed through though nothing happened it just reverted back to normal sleep.
23-may - roughly 8am. Had final opportunity. Transitioned successfully as I was falling into a lucid state bumps on my hand were appearing with English words. I was popping in and out of that “conscious” state and when I was popping out of lucid the bumps disappeared. Felt like I was really looking at my hand in reality. Felt very real. The word DAILY appeared on the top of my hand. Then it went away. Then the word EVIL appeared. Then the word DAILY again. Then a crucifix symbol.
During this time. In the dream that I was having before being lucid , I was being stabbed for some reason however the scene location switched to my bedroom once I became “physically” part of the dream if that makes sense. Although the content seems scary I wasn’t really scared there. There were two parents at the door kind of looking on in mourning but they weren’t my parents. Typical white couples mid 40. I became fully lucid in the dream and could stand up and walk around my bedroom with the blood in my stomach but no pain. I thought I may have died in real life and then got to the door and did a reality check that the post said. I made a conscious decision inside the dream to put my finger through my hand the finger went straight through my flesh through to the other side. It was the first time I made a conscious decision inside what I now knew was a dream. I woke myself up by blinking consistently? with excitement repeating to myself “it worked!”

I'm really struggling with eating on 1.2mg. In the last 4 days I've eaten just barely over 300 cals per day and I know that's not healthy. I managed a bowl of cereal today and couldn't keep that down. I've had a bad headache since yesterday. I'm drinking enough water. I get stomach sick when I try to drink a protein shake. I'm at a loss on what to do. I don't know if I should stick it out, or go back down to 0.6 . My dox said I'd be miserable starting this med and to push through it. And I really need to. I'm 5'1F, SW may 11 245.6 CW 232. GW 145. Any advice ? I've made a few posts before I'm just struggling this evening I guess. Thanks !

I had stopped for more that 3 months and was doing so well. I even went to the bar with friends smocking and didn't smoke.
But then it caught me at my weak spot: I had a big fight with my husband which led to a panic attack and I felt instantly better with a cigarette. It was the 20th of April (the fight was solved 2 hours after that btw, and it was for a stupid reason because we were both exhausted and my husband broke a fever a few hours after that, so it might have played a role in our fight too).
I spent another week without smoking, thinking this was just a mishap. But then I took a plane and someone had a cardiac arrest on the plane, they had to do an emergency landing and everything. I don't know if the guy made it, someone was still assisting him when the medics came and picked him up. This was of course very impressive and sad to look at and when I reached my friend's house I asked him for a smoke.
This was the 26th of April. Since that day I think I have smoked at least one almost every day, being in complete denial. Even though I can see that it makes me feel bad:

• my throat is sore
• the roof of my mouth and my tongue burn a little
• the shortness of breath is back
• my lungs are sore
• and my self confidence is nowhere to be found

All of this goes away when I stop smoking for 24 hours. I even went to visit a friend who doesn't smoke and spend 3 days without smoking. First thing I did when I came back? I lit one.
Last night I had to go to bed early because I had a headache, which I am sure was cause by nicotine. Now I just woke up sweating because I dreamed I was given oxygen to breath and I panicked when I realized it meant I couldn't run anymore.
I hope this time I can fix my mistake from today. I spend the last 12 years smoking (half of it not smoking because I was quiting) and it's starting to scare me. I have a good life and I don't want it to stop because of this stupid addiction. I'm so mad at myself I could scream.
Thanks for reading my rant

I 24F recently became aware of the fact that I got chlamydia. if you’re reading this reddit my assumption is you’re probably currently going through the same or know someone who is. so i’m choosing to share my personal experience as i’m sure this could bring someone out there any level of comfort or help them if they happen to share the same anxieties or symptoms i’ve been experiencing.
it began a month or two ago. my body had been experiencing chronic yeast infections before my diagnosis. so to me this just so happened to be a very aggressive yeast infection, or so I thought. my discharge was very runny, like a splash of water, almost with little specks of white discharge and maybe some body cramps. (my period was and has always been irregular so this was common for me). I had this point experienced what I would consider to be little to no symptoms indicating anything even close to chlamydia, I now know that chlamydia can be asymptomatic. I at that point I had gotten tested for a full STD screening at least twice in a 60 day period and everything had come back negative. It wasn’t until I want to say 2 months and a half to three months after my initial “symptoms” of what I was suspecting was an aggressive yeast infection that my OB/GYN had ran another STI/STD screening, and it came about that I actually had chlamydia.
I wasn’t exactly jumping up in the air at the news. However, I understood that I had chosen to have premarital sex without protection. And so, this was the price to pay in accordance of a “sneaky link” aka allowing my body to be used by someone who i’m positive has had sex with other partners and didn’t share the slightest interest in caring about me or my well being. you live you learn.
I guess it’s also important to state that at the point of the sexual intercourse I was still experiencing the symptoms I had with this “yeast infection” this may or may not have had something to do with perhaps, accelerating or assisting chlamydia happening to me. the timeline is iffy with all the negative tests results received prior (I’m not sure at that point if the negative results were indicative of no chlamydia infection, or just false negatives)
as far as my prescription, I was prescribed a weeks worth of doxycycline 100 mg and I was to take one pill every 12 hours for a total of 14 pills. I believe it was either on day three or four that I took a dose of medication on an empty stomach and threw it up. This off set my medication by 12 hours. however, I was prompt into calling my doctors office and they quickly prescribed just one extra capsule. so I waited until it was time to take my next dosage 12 hours later, and continued so on and so forth.
It wasn’t until after I finished my full week of doxycycline medication that I began to feel symptoms. or what i would consider serious ones anyway (serious enough to have concerned me). I’m now a full week out after having finished my full course of medication. i’m experiencing severe soreness and chronic inflammation in my pelvic area both internally and externally with focus in the groin. I realized this after going to the gym and attempting to do squats on the smith machine when a sharp pain shot down my uterus and hasn’t gone since. this was 4 days ago. (3 days post meds) after some research it’s come to mind i could have contracted PID pelvis inflammatory disease. I’ve called my doctors office who stated they can’t test again until 3 months out and instead prescribed 2 fluconazole 150mg tablets to take 48 hours apart for a potential yeast infection as doxycycline can lead to yeast infection.
I, like yourself have scoured reddit to see people who have had to take 2/3 rounds of doxycycline to no avail and have had issues where the infection spread to their fallopian tubes and only became aware of it after a visit to the ER.
i’ll be updating this post with any and all future symptoms/medications prescribed whether they’ve helped or not in effort to share my experience with others who may be going through the same or have any questions in regards to symptoms/ anxieties of having to tell your partner(s) because i had to go through that as well. feel free to leave a comment or share your experience & if your symptoms went away or what helped you.
Goodluck & thanks for your time.

I have had stomach problems my entire life. When I was a small child, it presented as throwing up for hours on end. As I aged, it changed into general stomach issues that eventually build up into terrible headaches that last for a couple of days. I cannot tell if the headaches are a direct result of my stomach or indirect from inflammation caused by food. Digestive issues always accompany the headaches and sometimes fully emptying my bowels makes the headache less painful, but sometimes it doesn't. Usually the headaches are most painful at the base of my neck and behind my eye. I have been diagnosed with IBS-C, but have received no further answers. I'm two weeks into the elimination phase and in the middle of a three day headache. I did have a slip up on Monday where a restaurant put a chili garlic sauce in my food. Since I was already at the two week mark, I decided I would just eat it and consider it a small test for garlic. I am not sure if that is what caused my flare up or if I'm going down the wrong road and it's some intolerance other than fodmaps. Does anyone suffer from similar symptoms and if so, have you found any answers?

I know this is long and probably TMI so I appreciate any advice I can get!
Last month I was absolutely convinced I had strep. Went in to the doctor, she thought it was strep. Rapid test came back negative, which surprised us all, so they sent it to the real lab to test it again. Negative again. They suggested rest and fluids. Went back in a couple of days later because I still felt like crap and got told it was an upper respiratory infection and prescribed prednisone. Admittedly, I didn’t take the prednisone. I feel like they brush off a lot of my symptoms as an asthma exacerbations and throw prednisone at me unnecessarily. I eventually started feeling better and went on with my life.
Early Saturday morning I started vomiting (thanks, Mr. 3 Year Old for the stomach bug). Thankfully it was short lived but it was violent and almost constant during the less than 4 hours it lasted.
I’ve barely had much of a voice since then. Monday I went in and got diagnosed with laryngitis. Once again, prescribed prednisone. I was told that if I didn’t feel better by Wednesday (today) to come back in. I haven’t been miserable. I’ve been mostly functional, gone to work, took care of my kids, household, etc.It hasn’t gotten much worse but not any better. I’m tired but I don’t get enough sleep anyway, I have a headache but I have a basically constant headache. My throat doesn’t hurt so much as it feels like it’s irritated. I went back today because my headache is slightly worse but my ears hurt like a bitch. She diagnosed me with a double ear infection (and they said my ears were fine on Monday) and prescribed me an antibiotic.
Anyway, a little bit ago I cleared my throat and some mucus flew out onto my hand. It was pretty disgusting and looked infected. Is it possible that a URI has sat dormant for the past month and then somehow was “reactivated” from the violent vomiting or just being sick again? Is that insane? I’m just so confused.

Today out of nowhere I started feeling allergies come on. Quickly I started feeling the reaction all around my head and face like a warm flushing feeling. I reached for an anti-histamine right away but the reaction was getting worse really fast. My whole face and ears were bright red and the warmth started feeling high like a fever. I could feel some swelling in my lips. This lasted for about a half hour max before it moved down off of my face and to the rest of my body slowly. Over the next hour I had bumpy hives develop on my hands, feet, knees, ankles, chest, and around my armpits. They have chilled out a bit but they're still all over and I'm just itchy everywhere. This is absolutely awful. I have no idea what to do. As far as I know I'm only allergic to cats (I have none) and I haven't eaten anything new today.
Background Information:
I've had candida symptoms for 5+ years and have gotten rid of them a few times by taking antifungals and staying away from bread/sugars/etc. The problem is of course it would always come back when I would lose steam after a month or so. This last time it seemed to come back with a vengeance. I got fed up because it caused painful and itchy rashes around my groin and rectal area this time.
I decided to try something new after oral fluconazole and miconazole cream only worked as a bandaid. I've been taking biofilm busting digestive enzymes for the first time this week. I take them in the morning on an empty stomach. I also take Candidastat as an anti-fungal (which I've been taking for quite a while) and incorporating some oregano oil caps, coconut oil, and diatomaceous earth. The last 2 days I took a break on the oregano because I've been having a strong reaction involving a headache that feels how a caffeine dependence headache feels.

Hi everyone 👋🏼 I need some advice because im losing my mind over this. I’m 25F, about 2 weeks ago I started Wellbutrin an anti depressant almost immediately i got some side effects headaches, dizziness, dry mouth but that all went away after a few days except for a tight sore throat voice hoarseness and post nasal drip it feels like i have dry mucus but i don’t cough up anything, no coughing no wheezing but always feel like i have to clear my throat,it gets worse when i drink coffee, i don’t have trouble swallowing food but it is difficult to swallow saliva, no difficulty breathing ( maybe shortness of breath but i always had that ) globus sensation which i also always had, my throat feels swollen and irritated though, but no pain so far, so im not sure if wellbutrin is to blame. I have severe anxiety, health anxiety being the most severe one, so going to get it checked feels like death sentence already, ill go get it checked if it doesn’t get better but still stressing over it makes my health worse sorry if its long but i would really love to hear everyone’s thoughts and experiences Thank you 🙏🏼

The realization that having the final word may have been bitter-sweet had begun to dawn on Solon, as he sat on a low brick wall near a well at the center of the market. Clearly, people like Vur'z and Sheela, those that spoke English, were hard to come across. On top of the language barrier, the mercenary had another issue. Money. His world or this one, coins were words everyone knew. And he had none of those either.
He tried to hire a guide or ask for directions out of the desert, but the mouths of the villagers were as dry as his pockets. Roaming around the village, trying to avoid attention while pondering his next move, he noticed a good number of people going in and out of a small saloon styled building. The words written on the sign in front were unintelligible to Solon, but from his knowledge of this world, the chances of it being a guild or an adventurer agency of some sort were pretty high. Pushing the doors open, strolling into the main room with the stride of an Old Western gunslinger, Solon threw away any attempts of staying under the radar.
Every head turned to him, analyzing and studying the man that walked through the door, eyes lingering on his prosthetic left arm. The soldier walked over to what he had assumed was the main desk, and before he could even open his mouth to speak, the beastfolk woman on the other side interrupted him.
"Igilin! Abatu, pa'ta marez lof." She spoke, he ears perking up and her tail moving around welcomingly. She was a jackal like creature, from what Solon could tell and her hyper behavior confirmed that.
Her voice was high pitched, assaulting the man’s ears with a relentless slew of words he could not understand. The speed of her talk took him down memory lane, reminding him of a toy phone he had a kid, one that made random noises when he'd press a button or say "I love you" at 10 times the speed.
The guild woman kept on talking, now pulling out charts and several guide books, pointing her clawed finger and flipping pages. Solon exhaled loudly, before giving her the thumbs up with his good hand and turning to leave, when something caught his eye. A bullet board on the other side of the room, covered all over with countless quest requests and offers. One paper stood out from the bunch. A large drawing of a beastfolk child, along with several scribbled under which was a nice coin offer. To the mercenary, it was common knowledge that two things were universal on any world. Bounty posters and missing people posters. And this one was of the latter.
He pulled the poster off the board, looking over it once more. The offer indeed was enough to entice any man, just by the number of zeros written on the page. Solon looked up at the sky as if thanking God for the intervention. He'd seed the person on the poster before, the screaming beastfolk boy that Vur'z was transporting in his caravan. Clearly whoever the boy was taken from would pay a pretty penny to have him back. Something did bother him about the situation however. With an offer so lucrative, the was no chance the poster would be left hung for that long without anyone taking on the bounty. Vur'z sons were strong young men, but they were far from an issue when it came to a group of adventurers. That odd suspicion was further solidified by all the stares the man felt drilling into his back. The guild patrols gave him dirty looks as he rolled up the poster and stuck it under his cloak, in his back pocket and went back out on the street to find Vur'z.
Solon wandered the village until sundown, until he finally stumbled across the resting spot for trade caravans. He was hungry and quite in a sour mood, walking over to the wagons without a word. Sedef spotted him first, sending his 3 brothers to go and fetch their father while he tried to deal with the mercenary.
"Solon! Nice seeing you again so soon." Sedef said, walking over to the man.
"Where's your old man Sedef?" Solon asked, walking past the guard.
"He went to fetch supplies from the market. Shouldn't be long before he's back." The young man replied. "Would you like to wait for him here?"
The young man felt uneasy, his own inability to simply tell the mercenary to piss off didn't sit well with him. He was the best hand to hand combatant in his little village, but even with that, Sedef knew that if he were to swing at the soldier, it would end badly. So he swallowed his pride and decided on a more friendly approach.
"Yeah, if you don't mind." Solon sat down, his stomach growling with hunger.
The two men sat in awkward silence for a while, before finally Vur'z appeared around the corner. "Ah, Solon. I see Lady Sheela is not with you. What can I do you for?" Spoke the slaver.
With his mechanical arm, the soldier pulled out the poster and showed it to Vur'z. The other one seemed oddly relieved. "Oh, you're here for that? Sad to say I already handed him over."
Solon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "So, where is it?"
"Come have dinner with us. If you're serious about getting the kid, you'll need some info about where he's been taken and by who first." Vur'z patted the man on the back, inviting him to the wagon.
***
"What's the situation?"
The elven scout turned around swiftly, almost jumping out of his own skin from fright. "My Lady." He placed his hand on his chest to calm his heartbeat. "I beg of you, do not sneak up on me that way."
General Eirlys hid a smile, before focusing her eyes towards the squad of invaders walking through the woods, setting up a defense perimeter. The Vatur kingdom has been struggling with containing the invading humans, especially when it came to portal control. Having multiple wild portal gates just outside the borders of the elven forest made it very hard to prevent humans from breaching from the other side. Countless skirmishes had broken out since the humans first captured the largest portal and make it their outposts. The Iron Fortress that blew a hole through the, now almost fully healed, Home Tree still stood tall and was heavily protected. The smaller gates were less guarded so the elves managed to take those back within a few months, as the invading murder apes seemed not too keen on dying over those strategic points.
However, it seemed that the enemy had now set their sight on the second largest gate and begun turning it into an outpost. The worked tirelessly, day and night, fending off occasional elven raid parties sent by the Vatur kingdom with ease. The motion detecting turrets proved to be the biggest issue that elves could not overcome. As soon as they would get within range, even under the cover of night, the machines would mercilessly shower them with bullets until they were gunned down.
Desperate, Princess Claudia requested the presence of the kingdoms most decorated general, Eirlys Atteris. A warrior known for her outstanding strategic prowess, merciless approach to combat and the ability to turn even the spineless of elves into soldiers worthy of serving the kingdom. Within weeks of her arrival, she managed to push the expansion of the murder ape outpost back within range of their turrets and lock them in a stalemate. That gave the elven troops enough morale boost to believe that victory was possible. However, to the general, the behavior of the enemy told a completely opposite story. The human invaders seemed too content to stay within the confines of the stalemate and not expand the outpost further, as they have been doing thus far. Even their establishing of defense perimeters seemed to be oriented around doubling, if not tripling the defenses of the already established outposts borders rather than a preparation for a counter assault.
"They seem to be doubling the defenses again. This is the third day in the row that they turn the portal on. The reinforcements coming through however aren't really numerous. If they are mounting a counter attack, they will need a lot more manpower than this, even with their equipment, to breach into the forest." The scout replied.
"Something doesn't sit right with me about this entire thing." Eirlys thought to herself.
The humans seemed to be moving around, tinkering on some stationary devices, hooking them up to the portal. Most of them that came through the gate didn't even seem like military personnel, if uniform and lack of weaponry was something to based such an opinion on.
"My Lady." A tap on the shoulder interrupted the general from her train of thought. "Permission to speak freely?"
"Go ahead."
"I am Amara Lindwysp, I served under Lord Eothen and Lady Claudia." Said the scout.
"And?" Replied the general.
"I have seen this before. The night his Majesty lost his life and her Majesty her legs." Amara continued. "These people aren't soldiers, they are..." She searched her mind for the right word. "Engineers."
"Engineers?" The other scout butted in.
"Yes. That's what the murder apes call them. They are in charge of the equipment. They were there the night the Iron Fortress breached the gate."
"The Iron Fortress..." Mumbled the general, turning her gaze back to the encampment, observing the humans work and set up various equipment. "But this gate is too small for another Iron Fortress to pass through."
"That may be so my Lady, but the devices they are setting up are designed to generate massive amounts of energy to keep the gate open for an extended period of time. I cannot be certain what they are up to, but they are priming that portal to be open for a while. Divines only know what sort of contraption they plan on ushering through it." Amara said.
The look on the scout’s face gave the general everything she needed to know about the gravity of the situation. There was not a single lie in the girl’s words. Something like this should not be dismissed.
"So, what are we to do? You've been there. Tell me." Eirlys said, catching the girl off guard.
"Oh uhm. I don't believe I am fit to advise you on what our best course of action is my Lady." The elf replied, losing her composure for a second.
"Not the time for humility or modesty Amara Lindwysp!" The general said coldly. "You've been there. You best know what went wrong with the assault on the Iron Fortress. Now, for the sake of the kingdom and your comrades, speak."
Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The devices that shoot, they follow movements. Even through rain and fog. Illusion spells don't work them either. If we get in range, they will mow us down before we even can get off a single arrow."
"That I am well aware of. Tell me something that I can actually use."
"Yes, yes, my apologies. Hitting them with explosive spells from outside of their range should do the trick, as they do not appear to track any movement that isn't actual enemy troops. They do not seem to be activated by arrows that fly past them, nor birds or any other critters I've noticed move within their range." The scout continued, trying her best to remember everything she knows about the enemy.
"Devices they are setting up, they're the ones keeping the portal gate open for a long time. If we take out those, it should close before they pull whatever they plan to, through the gate. And I don't see..." She focused her eyes on the encampment, as if searching for something amidst the enemy. "...any warhounds."
"Warhounds?" Eirlys raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes, my Lady. It was a one-armed, one-eyed human that ended the life of Prince Eothen that night. It had a metal left arm. Apparently, those soldiers are called war hounds and are here to exterminate the local population before the larger troops can move in."
"Gods, what a barbaric species. You'd think them demons in human skin, rather than actual humans." The other scout said in shock.
"I see. Do not omit anything scout." The general added.
"That is all I know my Lady." Amara bowed her head.
***
"So, the gladiatorial arena?" Solon asked, leaning against the wall of the wagon.
With his stomach full of food, the mood of the man improved significantly. Vur'z nodded.
"Yes. But don't think you can just whisk the kid away. The arena is situated under the village and it's a pay to enter type of deal. Steep price indeed." Explained the slaver. "And you, my friend, stick out like a sore thumb in these parts. There isn't a single human in this village, much less one with your description. Whispers are going around already, about you taking the poster and accepting the quest to find the missing kid by doing so."
The human nodded, rubbing his beard with his good hand.
"And the event orchestrator has a lot of financial influence over the adventurers that are regulars in this village. So, keep your head on a swivel else you might a dagger to the back." The old man warned.
"I see. Well, Vur'z, I'd best be heading now. I'd have for you and your sons to catch strays because of me. Just point me in the right direction and I'll be on my way." Solon got up, shook the man’s hand and dusted off his pants and cloak.
"They are at the Crooked Claw's inn. In the basement, that's where the underground arena is and also where the gladiators are being kept." Vur'z replied, shaking the human’s hand in return. "I wish you the best of luck."
As solon turned to leave, Kopak stopped him. "Here, take this. It's not much, but it'll be of use to you, I hope."
The slaver trader’s son handed an old hatchet to Solon. A simple bone handle with an obsidian blade. The mercenary accepted the gift and placed it on his belt, it would be of use more than just to rely on hand-to-hand combat and his metal arm. "Thanks kid. You boys don't give your old man too hard of a time. So long."
With that, the soldier headed down the street and disappeared out of sight once he rounded a corner.
***
The entire village seemed devoid of life once the sun went down. As the ringed moon illuminated the empty streets, Solon could not help but feel watched. He did not even try to confirm if the feeling was true, knowing that playing oblivious would give his stalker more window to slip up. Following directions given by Vur'z, he eventually found Crooked Claw's Inn. The place was crowded, mostly with adventurers and some village folk, though something about them seemed odd. A good number of them, including the barmaids, seemed to survey the surroundings at regular intervals, as if on the lookout for something.
Thanks to his left eye implant, Solon didn't have to risk getting too close to the windows or doors to see inside, choosing to instead survey from the roof of a small house across the street. The front door was out of the question. Solon waited for the crowd inside to slowly get drunk, before making his move. He snuck behind Inn, slipping inside through the back entrance. Even the vigilant adventurers and barmaids have dulled their senses with hours of alcohol and loud music, so Solon did not have to be too stealthy. As long as he was not in direct line of sight, he didn't have to worry too much. The two cooks he found in the kitchen, since that's the room that the back door lead directly towards, did not seem to care about him being there. One of them sat on the floor, seemingly exhausted, while the other struggled to finish the few remaining orders for the intoxicated, rowdy patrons in the main dining hall of the inn.
Hiding his metal arm under his cloak and his shining left eye under the hood, Solon put his best mute impression, mumbling and making incoherent speech that meant nothing, while waving his right hand in a fighting motion. The cook on the floor took some time to understand what the man was trying to say, before figuring out that the stranger was asking for the entrance to the underground arena. Not wanting to deal with whatever was wrong with the cloaked lunatic in front of them, the cooks simply pointed to the door furthest from them on the left. It was evident they weren't paid enough to care about anything besides cooking. Solon, still engrossed in his acting attempt, thanked them with more mumbling, before rushing to the door and opening it swiftly, disappearing into the hallway on the other side, before any alarm bells went off in the heads of the cooks.
Following the long, thin, barely lit hallway, the mercenary soon found himself in a large room, looking very similar to a prison cell block. The smell of filth and moisture wafted from every direction, assaulting his nostrils. He spat on the ground, so the smell does not linger in mouth, before proceeding to sneak through the almost pitch-black room. Groaning, sniffling and occasional cough would come from different cells, though the majority of them seemed empty. Four torches attempted to light up the cell room, but their fires were dimmed, at the bring of being put out. Not that the darkness was an issue for the soldier, the implant that was replacing his left eye allowed him to see just fine in the dark.
Most cells were occupied by bones and corpses, emaciated bodies that withered away from thirst or starvation. Those that still had living prisoners inside, were occupied by beastfolk. The majority of them being of adult age and in no shape to do anything. Even his presence didn't seem to elicit any reaction from them. What was done to them, he had no idea, but they had clearly given up on life.
"This explains the lack of guards in this area. Even if these guys weren't caged, they still wouldn't even try to escape." Solon thought to himself.
Sounds of cheering and yelling came from outside the room. Finding the door, the soldier peeked through the doorway. There it was, the gladiatorial arena Vur'z spoke about. A pit, lined with something akin to barber wire, with two combatants, clearly beast folk, engaged in bloody hand to hand combat against one another. The seats placed in rows all around the pin were filled to the brim. Solon could recognize a few faces in the crowd, some from market and others from the adventurer’s guild.
With each blow exchanged, the crowd cheered and shouted. Coins pouches were passed around as the spectators made bets who would win. Women, barely dressed, walked around the crowd either passing out drinks or collecting coin from the bettors. Behind the bleachers and the crowd, several more cells lined the walls. Solon crouched, moving slow and low as to not get spotted.
The entire gladiatorial arena had a simplistic designed, working the mercenary's favor. A single hallway with cells lining the walls on one side, filled with that night's combatants, and a wall up to hip height on the other side, allowing a partially obstructed view of the main arena in the center. A single source of light hung above the arena, being the single source of light, not counting a few dim torches on the hallway’s walls. The bleachers wrapped around the pit where gladiators fought. Since all fighters were beastfolk, a ceiling of heavy metal bars was placed where the top of the arena pit met the bottom of the bleachers, to prevent any attempts at escaping of the gladiators from the pit and attacking the audience.
The ring of bleachers served as a divide between the arena pit and the cell hallway. The majority of the guards were nearest to the pit and audience, allowing Solon to sneak through the hallway without much issue, as long as he kept low and quiet.
The battle that was taking place below, from what he could hear at least, was a brutal one. Most likely fought to the death or very close to it. Growling, squealing and cheering all mixed together into noise that perfectly portrayed the brutality of the event. He looked through the bars of each cell, using his eye to quickly scan the captives inside, looking for the kid from the poster. Several cells and still no luck.
"Solon. Pssst SO-LON!" Came an all too familiar voice from the right of him.
Solon snapped his head to towards the source of the voice. In one of the smaller cells stood Sheela. The mercenary snorted, stifling a laugh.
"The almighty Dune Queen. I did not know followers get recruited from inside locked cells." He whispered.
She made a sour face at his mocking statement, before flipping him the bird. Another thing with universal meaning between both worlds. "What are you doing here?" Sheela asked, as he snuck closer to the cell.
"I'm looking for that kid Vur'z was hauling. He's got a pretty decent price for his safe return." Solon replied, quietly pulling out the poster with the kids face on it.
"Oh, and here I thought you've become a do-gooder for the sanctity of your soul." The former genie commented, before pushing her hand through the bars of the cell and pointing down the hallway, in the direction Solon had come from. "The kids over there, he's been roughed up quite a bit, since he didn't want to quiet down. He's still too small for fights, so he's not going in the pit tonight."
Solon nodded, rolling up the missing poster and putting back in his pocket. He turned around to head over to the kid’s cell. "Thanks Sheela."
Before he could properly make even a step, two long arms grabbed him by the cloak and turned him around, gripping him by the collar and holding him still. "Solon, I swear to the 7 divines, if you don't get me out of this cell, I will strangle you to death with my bare hands, right now." Sheela looked down at the man’s smug expression, speaking fast in a single breath, trying to remain whispering despite the desire to obliterate the soldier on the spot. Her golden eyes shining from the darkness, if looks could kill, Solon would be in the great beyond already.
Thanks to his implant eye, the mercenary could see the vein popping on her forehead as she glared at him.
"Alright, alright. I'm just playing with you." The shit eating grin consumed even more of his face, as the smugness in his expression threatened to reach critical levels. The former genie let go of his cloak with an exasperated sigh.
A frown took place a smirk use to be as he examined the lock that held the cell closed. He checked Sheela, from head to toe, making sure she's not in any shape that would hinder mobility.
"What? Now's not the time to be fawning over my looks Tin man." She scoffed.
"I'm checking if you are chained to the wall or anything that could prevent you from running. I can get you out, but it'll be loud. So I'll need you to send it as soon as I open the door." Solon explained, grabbing the cell door with his left hand. He looked up at Sheela, who took a step back and nodded.
His mechanical arm whirred softly before amping up. In a single powerful pull, the old lock gave way and the cell doors loudly swung open while creaking, before hitting bars and making even more noise. Sheela, the second the door banged against the bars, took off running down the hallway in the direction Solon had come from, with the mercenary hot on her heels.
"Four cells down from the entrance door!" She said, swinging the entrance door open and disappearing behind it as Solon kept on running past it towards the cell where the kid was being held.
The audience caught wind of the noise and so did the guards, so the mercenary had to work fast. Grabbing the cell doors and fully tearing them off the hinges, Solon got inside the cell. One quick look to confirm he didn't get the wrong kid and he was got to go.
The beastfolk boy on the other hand, did not share Solon's sentiment when it came to a quick escape. Believing the mercenary to simply be another one of the guards or trainers, he flew into a rage, hissing and screaming at the man, while flailing his arms, prepubescent claws out and ready to cut.
Chanting the same sleep spell incantation, he heard from Vur'z, the soldier approached the hysterical boy. Putting the little beast to sleep with a non-effective sleeping spell and a very effective right hook, Solon tossed the knocked-out boy over his shoulder and dashed outside the cell and towards the door, stopping just long enough to throw the cell door he had previously torn off, at the approaching guards.
***
General Eirlys and her troops were already cutting it close with their planned assault. The portal gate had been open without interruption for almost half a day, with only human engineers running in and out of the portal. Observing them gave some insight at the gates themselves and how they can be used. Watching the same men go in and out multiple times, before suddenly becoming dizzy and throwing up, had Amara realizing that there is a limit to how many times one can go through a portal in a short span of time before experiencing negative effects.
The elves waited for the cover of night to launch their attack, but tension was high. No one knew what the humans were priming the portal for, but as the number of engineers reduced and the outpost seemed to finish with all necessary preparations, Eirlys understood that it all comes down to this moment.
With everyone in position, arrows at the ready, the general focused her magic. Her arrow pulled back as the head of the arrow began to glow while Eirlys chanted to herself. A sharp inhale and the arrow was let loose.
The success, entirely dependent on scout Amara's information, was evident. Striking its mark, which was one of the human motion sensor turrets, the arrow exploded, rendering the device useless.
Humans sprung to action immediately, as the elven troops rushed out the forest, getting in range to let their arrows loose. Eirlys primed a second arrow, same spell, same target, another turret down. With arrow fired, her spell casting and firing increased in speed, taking down the turrets before they could be moved or properly fortified. As the last of them went up in flames, she rushed out of cover to join her troops in storming the outpost.
The generators that powered the gate and kept the portal open were heavily fortified. Her arrows, even with explosive enchantments could not leave even a single dent on them, let alone get to what's inside. So, the second option was to storm and take over the outpost, killing anyone who tries to get in from the other side, until they figure out how to disable the machines keeping the portal opened.
Caught by surprise, humans struggled to ward off the sudden elven attack. Their over reliance on the now destroyed turrets evidently proved to be a massive flaw. However, the elves were still going up against guns, and despite having the strength in numbers and the dark night on their side, not a single one of them has yet managed to get across the defensive walls of the outpost without being gunned down immediately.
Volley after volley of arrows rained down on the outpost, pushing the humans all the way back to the portal gate. This seemed like a victory for elves at last. That was what the general wanted to believe as her troops finally broke through the defense and stormed the outpost. But they were too late.
The portal rippled, as a monstrosity of metal came through it on four legs. Looking at it, Eirlys thought it looked like a spider or a crab of sorts. Then it came, the sound nightmares were made off. The spinning of metal, faster and faster, before gunfire echoed through the night. Not single shots, not burst fire, but a continuous shower of high caliber rounds tore the elves like they were leaves.
"FALL BACK! THEY BREACHED THE PORTAL!" The general screamed, leaping back over the wall, as the second spider like machine started crossing the portal from the other side. On each side a minigun, similar to the ones the turrets had, but larger in comparison. Turrets would gun down their targets, but these would tear them to chunks. Whirring and clamoring with each step it took, the machine moved closer. The general focused her magic, firing enchanted arrow after arrow at the unholy contraption, but her attempts yielded no results.
She finally leapt back over the outpost wall and joined what remained of her troops, as they ran back to the woods for safety, without any semblance or strategy. Just a mad dash in hopes of saving their heads.
The giant metal insect followed, walking through the stone wall with ease. Once more it opened fire, this time aiming at the cover they were running towards. Bullets tore through trees with ease, crushing any hope the elves had when it came to surviving this ordeal. Eirlys stood before it, aiming her arrow at the machine, one last ditch attempt to buy her comrades time to escape.
As the second walking nightmare began breaching the portal, the general experienced overwhelming despair grip her entire being for the first time in her long life. Guns stopped firing for a moment to cool down, the heavy metal leg of the machine raised high and ready to squash her. She fired arrow after arrow, fear and helplessness sinking deeper into her heard every time an arrow would bounce off the hard shell of the machine.
"This is it." She thought.
"I hope at least some of my troops escaped."
Guns sped their rotation up again, preparing to leave only examples, not survivors. Eirlys screamed in fury as the leg of the machine began to drop down on her.
"ENOUGH!" A voice boomed through the night, shaking the ground and the general to her core.
The machine stopped, just for a second, before being hit from the side by a massive rock shaped like a cone. It toppled over, its mechanical cries of death echoing for a while longer as it spilled its black, flammable blood and desperately tried to get back up. Eirlys turned to first to her right, her heart overcome with relief as she witnessed all her troops, alive and well, kneeling on the ground in reverence.
Turning to her left, she dropped to her knees to join them.
"Your Holiness."
Night became as bright as day, while a single person slowly made its way to the outpost. Her entire presence exuding an aura of power and wisdom worth millennia. Glowing like the brightest star, the leader of the High Elves came to the general's rescue in their time of need.
Simply extending her arm and pointing at the portal gate, then clenching her fist while turning her hand, the portal closed, cutting off the second machine that was slowly getting through in half. The energy feedback made the generators explode. Still, despite such an overwhelming show of force, the remaining humans in the outpost still opened fire on her.
The High Elf was not amused in the slightest.
"Perish from my sight, vile vermin." She hissed, before a ball of fire dropped onto the outpost, swallowing everyone in alive whole.
"On your feet General. I have much to discuss with your king, take me to him." The radiant woman ordered.

***
Solon caught up with Sheela, as the pair now ran through the empty village streets with a furious mob of mercenaries, adventurers and village folk coming after them.
"What are we to do? Can't run forever." The soldier said, rounding another corner in hoped of losing their pursuers.
"To the caravan resting area, that might be our only escape." The genie said, grabbing him by the cloak and running with him down yet another alley.
"What happened to the kid?"
"He'll be fine. Just a little headache when he wakes up." Solon assured her, as the boy dangled off his shoulder like a bag of potatoes while he ran.
Finally making it to the rest area, they hopped in the first wagon that seemed empty and was actually still attached to the horse like creatures that pulled it.
"Hiyah! Mush! Move, go. Cmon!" Solon yelled, pulling and moving the reigns that controlled the animals, but none of them bothered to move.
"Ooooh fuuuck!" The mercenary looked over his shoulder at the mob approaching.
Sheela grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into the wagon as she grabbed the reigns.
A deep breath, focusing as best possible to channel her magic, the feeling still foreign and alien to her.
"Ahk'Am! Akash, jan!" The forger genie shouted.
Like possessed, the animals jumped to their feet and began to move. A light jog turned into a mad gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust. Solon ducked as daggers and bricks flew past the wagon, thrown by the furious arena mob that was now left behind, as the wagon disappeared from sight, heading towards the desert.
"Where do we go now?" Solon asked.
"I don't know. We got out of there safe. As for where next, let's ask the kid when he wakes up." Sheela sighed and sat down.
***
(Hi. I'm back with another chapter. The support from all over is a true delight and really makes me want to keep this series going.
I want to thank Agro Squirrel Narrations for covering some of my work before, so more people can enjoy it. That goes for all other narration channels that have been given my permission to narrate some of my work.
Feel free to check me out on:
Royal Road Scribble Hub Patreon
Thank you for your kind and encouraging words, I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them. Have a lovely day.)

Making this on a throw away account but I'm extremely scared. on 04/11/2024 I had a possible exposure (Unprotected anal sex, i'm a male) and I've been feeling a bunch of crazy symptoms. I took a test on may 3rd and it came back negative but I've had constant stomach problems (Diarrhea lasting more than 4 weeks, Loss of appetite, small red lines appearing on my lower stomach which i would like to believe are stretch marks, random muscle pains, gas and burping often, trouble staying asleep, sore throat) I've also had the feeling of having a fever but every time I check my temp is normal. I'm going to do an oral test again soon because i know I tested early (tested at 3 weeks) but I'm still terrified. If my test comes back negative, I'm never doing anything unprotected again. Any advice would be helpful
Edit: The guy said he was clean but i'm still scared

Hello! I (22)F have been having some stomach issues since mid March. It all started when I ate some queso that probably wasn't too safe to eat. I woke up at midnight that night with severe nausea and diarrhea. I never threw up. The day after I ate the queso, my boyfriend and I left to go on a vacation. The day we left, I got a headache from the flight and we had to go and get nausea pills after we landed as I was also slightly nauseous as well. I was able to eat dinner that night and drink without problems, as I took a pill before we went to dinner.
The 2nd day of vacation I was totally fine. The 3rd day, we ate at this shady Mexican place and my boyfriend told me after we ate that he thought the chicken felt like it wasn't cooked all the way, but he didn't say anything as I ate all of it! I felt fine that night.
4th day of vacation, we were in Vegas. Had some drinks before dinner and was a little tipsy. Ate at this fancy restaurant and everything was delicious. I woke up that night with severe nausea and severe diarrhea. I couldn't get off the toilet for 5 hours. I sat there praying I'd throw up and I never did.
The rest of vacation was terrible after that night. I woke up after finally being able to go to sleep, ate a breakfast croissant and was fine. Dinner came for the 5th night of vacation, and I was only able to eat my French onion soup before I was rushing to the bathroom as my stomach hurt so bad and my nausea was back. My boyfriend had to eat dinner alone. That night, I felt so bad and was so nauseous that we took an Uber to an urgent care where I got some antibiotics and anti-nausea meds. For the rest of our vacation, I'd only be able to eat breakfast, and my stomach would feel absolutely terrible at dinner time. It's worth noting that I ate steak every time we went out to eat in vegas (day 4-7), but I only got 1 bite in before running to the bathroom.
After getting home, I was fine for a week after vacation and I had another "episode" after eating mexican food and ended up going to the ER the next day where I was told nothing is wrong with me. Had a ct scan, blood tests, and urine. Told me to go to a pcp if it keeps happening (I didn't have one at the time). My new pcp put me on a medicine that reduces the acid in my stomach, but before I eat, during, and after I eat, I feel queasy and my stomach makes so many noises to where i know its not normal as its never been this active. It takes me over an hour to eat a small meal as I also have to use the bathroom during eating.
Is this some type of food anxiety, or is there actually something going on? I do get very scared that I will get the same feeling I experienced in vegas, but I'm starting to forget about it as it's been over 2 months. I just want this to go away.
Thanks!
TLDR: nausea and diarrhea started during vacation 2 months ago and was slighty traumatizing. Still struggling to eat meals even though told nothing is wrong.
P.S: First time posting so I'm sorry if I messed anything up or posted in the wrong place!!