"You'd be surprised how intricately the human body acts in defense of the plague." I told my comrades, all of whom had been knocked to their knees by a bunch of bandits.

"S-spit it out, witch!" my brutish swordsman spat. "We don't have time f-for thi-"

"Shush." I proclaimed as the bandit leader appeared on a elevated rock above his lowly muscle. Clad in bloody steel and what must be dozens of... 'trophies' from countless raids decorated his frame.

"Meager healer. Surrender you and your party and we will give you a quick death." Armed crossbows clicked as they pointed towards me.

I simply stood there, waiting.

"Say your answer, witch!" One bandit shouted, moving a step closer.

I raised my hand towards him.

Almost immediately his crossbow fell to the ground as he clutched his chest.

I swept my hand across the bandit horde and the rest fell to the same plight.

The bandit leader took a couple of seconds in shocked staring before drawing his bow.

I simply looked at him and he screamed out, falling from his perch and onto a particularly nasty rock with a crack.

My party watched in horror as the bandits slowly, agonizingly, died dishonorable deaths by my hand as I manipulated their immune systems to self destruct their vital organs.

One by one they grew glassy-eyed and fell still.

When the last one choked his last breath, I gazed upon my work, satisfied. I then turned to my shocked comrades. I took a little curtsy.

"Be glad that I use my powers to keep you all healthy and prevent sickness. Though perhaps I do my job too well, if you lot never consider how your own body might betray you one day."

Then I walked towards them, rummaging through my medical purse.

"Alright, who needs some linen and vinegar?"