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>A figure of legend for the past six weeks!
>Saint. Abe! HUHO!

>Stared down a dragon until she paid him to leave!
>Saint. Abe! HUHO!

>Scarred a large jinko by stabbing her cheeks!
>Saint. Abe! HUHO!

>Tortured whole families and left them to grieve!
>Saint. Abe! HUHO!

>Sing at the tavern, Whisper in town,
>“For live monsters they’ll pay, and whatever they do to them is a-okay.”

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>Be succubus
>But without a lot of things
>Broken horns, pointed ears carved round, wings ripped off, tail cut away
>But still have blue skin, ha ha ha… ha.
>Bandaged up sloppily
>Bound and gagged in a wagon
>‘Bout to die
>Don't care.

>Pay attention to what you can see for the first time in a long while
>Piles of junk surrounding and pressing down on you obscure the world
>Pale blue sky, greying with the clouds, is the only thing you can see from a narrow tunnel of blankets, barrels, and metallic things you don’t care enough to identify
>Poachers sometimes rob bounty hunters of their targets, so you can imagine why your movement has been restricted by all these bits and bobs
>Painfully does time pass, every stump on your body throbs, the ears in particular
> It’ll end soon though.

>Suddenly, there is darkness, not complete though
>Steep mountains
>So steep that they curve like a wave and at the tips of those waves, the ‘peaks’ of the mountains, there are lights
>Small lights that are enough to tell anyone who sees them that, “Yes, someone lives here.”
>Saint Abe Huho, that’s who’s acolytes you’re being delivered to
>Suddenly it hits you that the end is nowhere in sight
>A tear you didn’t think you had left rolls down your cheek, hot and bitter

>The wagon stops in an almost too dark place
>The junk is all lifted off of you
>There’s no resistance in your body as the bounty hunters haul up and drag you across the dirt and rocks to the tallest stone doors you’ve ever seen set into the face of a mountain
>Tall as all your captors plus yourself stacked atop one another and reliefs are carved into it depicting human-like figures being boiled, beaten while lying on a table, and choking on fumes
> Twenty dim torches lining the doorway only make those images more ominous
>Terribly loud sounds, of stone against stone, herald the unlocking, opening, and banging of those doors
>They’re so loud and deep that the gateway seems like it should collapse in on itself from the sheer weight
> You wish you had the strength to take the flames of those torches, to draw them towards your tired form and burn to death

> Alone, a single person slips out of the yawning darkness beyond the doors, dressed in a simple brown robe covering head to toe with only a single red square of cloth sewn onto the right shoulder as ornamentation
> Awkwardly, you’re handed to the acolyte, stumbling all the way even though you’re being supported by two bounty hunters
> And suddenly you’re swept off your feet, carried almost gently in the arms of the acolyte like a princess… or perhaps like a ritual sacrifice
> Above you is a black mask, a solid piece that betrays no emotion of the face behind it as it flickers between looking at you and your former captors
> Acknowledging your presence and the purpose of the hunters, the hooded person turns and whistles two quick notes at the entrance
> A life, your life, is worth one skull-sized wooden box that muffles the sound of coins barely jangling about as it is carried out by another acolyte. It must be very full indeed.
> The bounty hunters leave, the acolytes reenter, and the doors to your tomb shut with you inside it

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> Be acolyte of Saint Abe Huho
> The doors are too loud, the bounty hunters stink too much, your fellow acolyte sped off elsewhere, and this succubus doesn’t look like a lot of fun
> Gotta tell those money grubbing fools to leave us something to work with, I mean, jeez!
> These wounds almost make her look human, the resignation and sadness she reeks of even more so
> A pitiable sight, truly

> The single hall that makes up the temple’s only thoroughfare is carved from the rock of the mountain itself, just like the doors that soundproof everything happening behind them along the way
> Two slabs of stone for every six feet, one on each side, some of them leading into the same room
> In the first on the right, you remove the succubus’ filthy bandages
> There’s no physical reaction at all from the monster, but her breathing is unsteady and ragged with fear
> You suddenly grab her wrist, trying to keep her from running
> … Oh, she isn’t running. Or even looking at me.
> Back to the wounds then
> It looks like that although the stumps still look rather raw and scabby, they won’t reopen without a lot of prodding
> Good, we can take our time with every thing that our acolytes have to offer here

> The succubus is limp in my princess carry again, only lifting her head to stare at the mask on my face
> Mask on my face? I forgot to remove it again
> These are only ceremonial after all so I’m bound to get a scolding if anyone sees me
> I have to twist and press my shoulder against the fourth door on the left, pushing it open with no small effort
> The cleaning waters of St. Abe Huho await

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> Be succubus
> Listen to slightly less loud grinding of stone on stone
> Heat creeps over you and your captor as the door is pushed open more and more
> Your eyes are shut and you’ve turned your head away
> You don’t want to see what’s inside

> Even before the door is fully opened, terror comes in the form of sound
> In a single moment, there are shrieks, gasps, and the frantic splashing of water
> This must be the room where monsters are boiled alive
> In your mind, the silence that follows those sounds of fright must be from everyone’s heads being pushed into the water, perhaps not to drown but to suffer in scalding heat
> You feel yourself being lowered, the heat against your back gets warmer and warmer, the anticipation of water scalding you heightens your fear
> Fingers, digits, paws, and what feels like a ghostly claw grope and grip your body, dragging you away from the acolyte and into the waters below
> You wait for the many hands, some of which must be blistering and peeling but all desperate to share their pain, to submerge, to scald, and hopefully you’ll die from the shock
> Warm and wet pressure surrounds you, and it’s surprisingly not unpleasant
> Why is the water not blindingly painful?
> Why is there flesh pressed against you and a hand stroking the back of your head?
> “There, there, you’ll be okay now.”
> Wait, what?

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> Be mermaid
> Be member of the Order of St. Abe Huho
> In other words, you’re a bathhouse attendant
> This latest arrival… What could have happened to her?
> She doesn’t seem to realize that she’s safe now, that all the bounty hunters are doing is bringing in monsters to have relaxing baths, massages, and aromatherapy sessions
> The tortuous half-truths on the front doors are technically not lies, sort of. Maybe. Some here find it funny.
> And after all that, there are many scouts studying under this fictional saint, willing to guide monsters back to their homes or help them make a new life on the other side of the mountain range
> Oh, the succubus is crying now. Crying a lot. That’s good. Let it out, let it alllll out now.

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> Be acolyte of St. Abe Huho
> Watch your latest patient get group hugged by a mermaid, a half-blind wight, a heavily scarred elf, an antennaless hornet- really, pretty much everyone in the pool which is a lot of people
> Slip out almost unnoticed amidst the sudden calls of how everything will be okay
> As you start to close the noisy stone door, there’s a shout from a voice you’ve never heard before
> “THANK YOU!”
> Today is a good day.

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> An imaginary friend to everyone alive!
> Saint. Abe! HUHO!

> Carried a mermaid straight through some woods!
> Saint. Abe! HUHO!

> Made a ghost laugh by performing a dive!
> Saint. Abe! HUHO!

> Escorted whole families and left them with goods!
> Saint. Abe! HUHO!

> Whisper to friends, mutter to gals,
> “If you’re taken north on a very bad day, a bathhouse awaits and you’ll be a-okay.”