Making A Healing Potion

As the final scavenger fell, Arthur exhaled deeply, a weight lifting off his shoulders. A sudden rush of knowledge filled his mind, an understanding of how to concoct a healing potion materializing out of nowhere, a gift from completing the quest.

However, his brief moment of triumph was shattered by a scream. Turning swiftly, Arthur's eyes fell upon a young man, one of the settlers, with a deep wound in his gut, blood soaking through his clothes. An arrow from the scavengers had found its mark during the chaos of the fight. Panic ensued among the settlers as they realized the gravity of the young man's injury.

The elf and the dwarf rushed over, concern etched on their faces. The dwarf squatted down to inspect the wound more closely and whispered to the elf. 

"It's deep, laddie. We might only ease his pain 'fore he passes."

Arthur, witnessing this scene, felt a surge of determination. This was his chance to earn the trust of the settlers and take a step towards fulfilling his ultimate quest of rebuilding this world. Stepping forward, he addressed the gathered settlers, his voice steady and confident.

"I can heal him," Arthur declared, his eyes locking onto those of the injured man and then to the anxious faces of the settlers. "Trust me, I have a way."

Skepticism and distrust hung thick in the air as the elf and other settlers hesitated to accept help from Arthur, a stranger whose allegiance and abilities were still unknown to them. Their reluctance was palpable, their faces etched with concern and uncertainty.

Arthur scoffed at their hesitation, his patience wearing thin. "If it weren't for me, you'd all be dead or worse by now. So cut the bullshit and let me help," he retorted, frustration lacing his words.

The dwarf, sensing Arthur's genuine intent and recalling his bravery in the fight, decided to extend his support. 

"Aye, but how do ye plan on healin' him?" he asked, curiosity overtaking his initial skepticism.

Arthur's response left them all taken aback. "I can brew a healing potion," he declared confidently, his tone indicating he was fully aware of the weight his words carried.

In this world, the art of potion-making was rare and bordered on the mythical. The settlers exchanged shocked glances, their skepticism momentarily replaced by a mix of disbelief and hope.

"Look, I know it sounds like I'm pulling this out of my ass, but trust me, I've got the knowledge to make it happen. Just let me try, for fuck's sake," Arthur explained.

Then, he quickly retrieved some Snake Grass and Dotted Queen Mushrooms from his makeshift pouch, then turned to the settlers. 

"I need a few other things - green leaves, and, uh, any of you got something like a Root of Vigor or Healing Herb?"

The settlers exchanged puzzled glances, their skepticism evident. These were common plants, considered weeds by most and generally disregarded as useless.

The elf frowned, concern evident in his voice. "Dotted mushrooms are poisonous."

"Yeah, they're fucking poisonous if you're daft enough to eat them straight. But mixed with the other shit I asked for, they're golden," Arthur shot back, picking up a discarded metal plate from the ground. He began grinding the ingredients together with the back of his dagger, his movements precise.

The dwarf, seeing the potential in Arthur's determined efforts, turned to the others. "Fetch what the lad's asking for. Might as well see this through, aye?"

Reluctantly, the settlers scattered to gather the requested flora. After a while, they returned with the additional ingredients, still eyeing Arthur with a mix of doubt and curiosity.

As Arthur mixed them together on the metal plate, a green, slimy liquid began to form. "See? Not so fucking useless after all," he muttered, focusing intently on the concoction.

Holding the freshly concocted potion, Arthur paused for a moment to address the still-skeptical crowd. 

"To prove it's not poison," he said, then tilted his head back, drizzling the green, slimy liquid into his mouth.

The dwarves, the elf, and the settlers watched in stunned silence as the cuts on Arthur's thighs and arm began to close up, the healing process visible to the naked eye. Their astonishment was palpable, disbelief etched on their faces.

A tall, slender woman with long, wavy hair, her eyes wide with wonder, gasped, "Is this magic?"

A young man, lean and rugged with a look of hardened resilience, murmured, "Never seen anything like it..."

Arthur, noticing their stunned reactions, asked rhetorically, "So, should I give it to the young man, or do you fancy watching him suffer a bit longer?"

The dwarf, convinced by the demonstration, stepped forward in support. "Give it tae the lad. Can't be standing around gawking when there's a life tae save," he said, his accent thick and his stance resolute.

With the dwarf's endorsement, Arthur knelt beside the injured young man. He carefully tilted the young man's head back and slowly poured the green potion into his mouth. Gradually, the young man's pained expressions eased, his breathing steadied, and the color began to return to his pale cheeks.

The settlers gathered around, their earlier skepticism replaced by awe and gratitude.

"By the stones, it's working! Look at him!" the dwarf exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with a mix of surprise and admiration.

A middle-aged woman with streaks of gray in her tightly pulled back hair whispered, "Bless this stranger. He's saved our boy."

The elf, usually reserved and cautious, nodded in approval, his earlier doubts washed away by the undeniable evidence of Arthur's healing potion.

Witnessing the young man's recovery, the settlers' attitudes shifted from distrust to respect and gratitude towards Arthur, their expressions softening as they realized the stranger in their midst possessed not only the strength to defend them but also the knowledge to heal.

Following the miraculous recovery of the young man, the dwarf quickly lined up, eager yet skeptical, to experience the healing potion himself. 

"Never in me long years have I seen such a thing. A lad who brews healin' draughts like it's nae bother," he marveled, his thick accent betraying his shock and disbelief.

Arthur, busy preparing another dose, couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the dwarf's astonishment. 

"Yeah, well, brace yourself, mate. You're about to see some more fucking magic," he said, his tone laced with a mix of pride and amusement.

As Arthur administered the potion to more settlers, healing minor wounds and ailments, his reputation among them grew. When he noticed the elf's hesitation, Arthur scoffed and pointed at the elf's cut hand. 

"Don't let your fucking doubt and pride get you killed. That cut might look like nothing now, but wait till it festers. Then you'll be wishing you'd drunk this sooner," he warned, his blunt honesty cutting through the air.

The elf, still reluctant but recognizing the wisdom in Arthur's words, finally acquiesced. "Very well, if it can heal as you claim," he said, his voice carrying a hint of resignation mixed with curiosity.

Arthur poured the remaining potion onto the metal plate, ensuring not to waste a drop. The elf, with a slight grimace, drank from the plate, his eyes widening in surprise as the cut on his hand began to visibly heal.

"By the gods, it works... truly," the elf muttered, his previous doubts washed away by the undeniable effectiveness of Arthur's concoction. 

After ensuring the elf's wound was properly tended to, Arthur turned his attention to the young men gathered around the previously injured youth. 

"Take him to a tent, let him get some good rest. He'll be back on his feet, good as new by tomorrow," Arthur instructed, his tone carrying a reassuring confidence that put the others at ease.

The young men nodded, carefully lifting their friend and carrying him away to one of the makeshift tents that dotted the settlement. Their expressions were a mixture of gratitude and awe as they glanced back at Arthur, silently thanking him for his intervention.

With the immediate crisis abated, the dwarf approached Arthur, curiosity burning in his eyes. 

"Who are ye, truly?" he asked, his gaze piercing, seeking the truth behind this mysterious stranger who had so swiftly become their savior.

Arthur paused, considering his response. He knew he couldn't reveal the full extent of his past - that he was a warlord on Earth who had met an untimely demise, only to be tasked by a god-like entity with rebuilding this world as a form of redemption. To them, such a tale would sound fantastical, if not outright insane.

"I'm someone who wanders from place to place, helping folks along the way," Arthur began, choosing his words carefully. 

"But lately, I've been thinking of settling down, using what I know and the abilities I've got to build something... lasting. Something that can make a difference," he explained, his voice earnest.

The dwarf, listening intently, nodded slowly, sensing the sincerity in Arthur's voice. 

"A noble cause, that. We could be using someone with yer skills around here," he said, the hint of a smile tugging at his beard.

Arthur's response, while vague, seemed to satisfy the dwarf and the other settlers for the moment. They were more concerned with the tangible benefits Arthur's presence brought to their community than with the specifics of his mysterious past.