“There’s a few Abadarians who channel positive, but the bastards are charging even more now. Must be a lot of injured men in the city who don’t want to pay the cost of the ‘free’ healing the Galtans brought over. If you catch my meaning sir hoho”

He took a drink from his beer then glanced around and lowered his voice.

“I know some men injured defending the city who still haven’t gotten their wounds healed. And, if I may be so bold sir, I know that Chosen of your station can do restorations as well? There’s men with blood sickness from wounds, or other stranger things.

They’d pay a pretty penny for some assistance from a trustworthy source. I could arrange things for you, for a small commission. 

I know you want to be discreet. I’m not going to go putting up flyers around town hoho. 

But I know these men, served with some of them, or their father’s. They’re solid, loyal Asmodians. You’d want them fighting fit when you retake the city anyway I reckon.”

It was tempting, the prices for those were considerable even in normal times, and right now it could easily be twice that. He wasn’t exactly short of money, he still has the valuables he’d saved from the office. But more money meant more options. And the commission would give Bernat another reason to be loyal. 

So far he’d just been selling cantrips but providing healing would mean using the limited slots he kept ready for emergencies.That was a worrying risk. 

He wouldn’t be entirely bereft though. He could use his free slots on Cure Light Wounds and Lesser Restoration, and keep one Disguise and one Invisibility in reserve, using the additional slots His Lord granted him for his special talent in the domain of Trickery.

It had been a week of boring hanging around without ever needing to dip into that reserve. He'd been using them to get drinks in a bar for Hell's sake. It was a risk sure, but a calculated one. A Chosen shouldn’t just be sitting around all day watching birds and mending cookpots. If he was to actually make a difference in retaking the city he’d need to start getting out there again and making connections.

“An intriguing thought. I suppose I could do spare a spell a day for them.”

Bernat hesitated

“Begging your pardon sir, but there’s dozens of these men, and I fear they won’t all last long. You always say our lives are our Lords property, would be a shame to waste them.”

“I would love to heal every loyal Asmodean in the city at once Bernat, but too many at once poses an unacceptable risk. How much was it you said they were willing to pay?”

He let Bernat 'convince' him, arguing down his own share and raising the minimum price. It was a little embarrassing to see what sentiment would lead a man to do really. 

"Very well. I think 3 healings of wounds and 2 restorations a night gives the best balance."

Best to let the man think he had more to spare. And the technicality of a 'lesser' restoration needn't trouble a layman. (He wasn't honestly sure what ailments it did and didn't heal, but it couldn't hurt. And its not like they would be asking for their money back.) 

"I'll visit the first set of men tomorrow night. Then take a day off to see if the Galtans notice anything." 

“Have the men provide you with their addresses and I’ll visit them at their homes. So as not to attract attention here. After all if a bunch of soldiers limp their way in, and merrily walk out afterwards, even the Galtans might notice!”

“Hoho sir, that they might. Very clever sir. I can see you’ve thought of everything then. I’ll handle the men don’t you worry.

It’ll mean a late night for you I suppose, I’ll set out some extra jugs and cisterns around the back so you can fill them at your leisure before you go, and we won’t need to trouble you in the morning. We can bring you up breakfast and leave it by your door for when you wake up.

Do you want myself and some of the lads to accompany you to the visits sir? I hear stories of men being robbed down every alley since the invasion, even if you avoid the Galtans.”   

Archdevils assembled, the man really would laugh at anything. 

“No need. A group of men all walking together will attract more attention I think.” 

And best not to give the impression that a Chosen needed protection.

“Your bouncer may have the strength of an ogre, but he has the stealth of one as well besides.”

“Haha true enough sir true enough. You do have a wit on you don’t you. Maybe you could have been a Bard if our Lord didn’t Choose you…."

"Meaning no offense of course.

I’m sure it was never in doubt. None could be more obviously suited for our Lord's service.

....

And I'm sure even if somehow He hadn't you'd be a Captain or a....”

Orgull gave him his best steely somber priest expression...

And held it for two whole rounds before his grin broke through and he couldn't help but laugh 

Bernat laughed along, even more than he had earlier, only partially out of relief. 

The next night Orgull visited the houses of each man in turn. There were Galtan patrols enforcing the curfew, but they were trivial enough to avoid without wasting any spells. He noticed the occasional other figure taking the roofs and back alleys, but they kept their distance, or exchanged polite nods.

The men were all effusively grateful, of course. He surprised them by charging only a little above the previous market rate, along with their sworn oath to assist him in the future at his discretion.

An ongoing relationship was always more valuable, he’d known that since he was a boy, and if he was going to lead the Asmodean resistance in this city he’d need men to do rough work on occasion.

On the way back he kept getting stuck on the wrong side of Galtan patrols, needing to wait interminable periods for them to pass. While tensely hiding in alleys he was been tempted more than once to just use his remaining spells and walk right past them, but he resisted. 

Upon returning to his room he shoved his payment from the night under a loose floorboard. Wrapping it in his soldiers clothes. He’d need to unstitch the things hidden in the seams, but he'd not got round to it. There'd be plenty of time in the morning to sort them both and give Bernat his cut. 

He collapsed in bed fully clothed, hoping to get a couple hours sleep before he had to wake up and pray. 

Very slightly before true dawn:

Knock knock!