Ragnarr: Psychic Checkup

When I was a wee healer, back before Pelor trusted me with things like status spells, I used to have to check up on whether anything was wrong with folk by the old fashioned ways. It was never quite so reliable, since it was a lot less "Pelor tells me this is wrong with you" and a whole lot more "Turn and cough" sort of thing.

Sometimes, you were in a large group of healers, and the ladies would checkup on the lady patients, and the men on the men and what have you. But then there were times when you would find yourself deep in the mountains somewhere, in a village of a few hundred or even dozen, and there was no time for propriety and you were going to put your finger there and see what was wrong with the girl because you didn't have any other damn choice.

There were jokes about it, of course. Never when a superior was around, but when we were up late at night with stolen beer and playing card games we'd been ordered not to, there were always a few jokes, here and there, about the pretty young ladies some lad or other had his hand in over the last few months.

Braggery, mostly. I had done it, and the thing is... even if it was a damn pretty lady, it was never all that attractive. For the most part, I was there trying to figure something out. I didnt' have the time to spend appreciating the girl I was examining, and she certainly wasn't pleased at what I needed to do to her to find out what was wrong. It wasn't a pleasant experience for either of us, and I don't care how fine the lass might be otherwise.

Except for one lassy. I didn't realize what was going on until much later. But there was thins one lassy, not bad looking, though not the most attractive girly I'd ever seen. And every week she would have something wrong with her. She'd come in, I'd examine her, tell her nothing was wrong, and not a week later she'd be back again. I thought she looked a wee bit flushed, maybe, and thought perhaps there was something wrong with her.

I told my master about it. He stormed out to go speak to her parents. I didn't quite realize why. And when I did realize why, it was more odd than understandable.

But that was before I had that checkup from the psychic surgeon. That lassie may not be the most lovely girl I've ever laid eyes on. And when she's doing her job, I'm sure she's much like me: she's in my mind looking for something wrong, not as some weird pervert thing.

When she's in there, though... by Pelor's beard.

Oh, hells. I hope she hasn't run into those thoughts while she's rummaging around in there. That would be...

Well. We'll just hope she hasn't, then.