Earlier Are you criticizing my performance? I stood between this creature and my friends. And I offer to stand between you and the vampire. I am confused.
"Easy big guy, I'm just teasing. I hide in the corner, in the air, and behind guys like you. We would all be dead without your magnificent performance," Seren says, dropping the Rolth veil putting his hands up placatingly.
"Yes, all her gear is magical but given her predilection for evil, we may want to identify that before you start swinging it at bad guys."
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Cherias stands up, sore and weary, but sets to healing the worst wounds with his wand. After everyone is satisfied, he speaks up. "I can take the notes we found on Rolth and get with Ishani upstairs. Combined with 'Doctor' Davaulus's notes, we can probably make some good headway on a cure."
He glances around the chamber, looking nauseous. "With this place shut down, maybe the quarantines and hard work will work and stop the disease's spread."
"I hate this place," he says with uncharacteristic vehemence. "Can we leave?"
"No good...Abby and I need a miracle now. Cherias, let's leave this hellosh place and come back with a cleanup crew. Seren, I blocked Andasin with my face as well," and then the dusky elf collapses into another fit of coughing.
Earlier Are you criticizing my performance? I stood between this creature and my friends. And I offer to stand between you and the vampire. I am confused.
"Easy big guy, I'm just teasing. I hide in the corner, in the air, and behind guys like you. We would all be dead without your magnificent performance," Seren says, dropping the Rolth veil putting his hands up placatingly.
Segang eyes the sneaky wizard suspiciously obviously unsure if he thinks Seren is sincere or patronizing. I do not seek your praise. Valor in combat is its own reward.
"Yes, all her gear is magical but given her predilection for evil, we may want to identify that before you start swinging it at bad guys."
Teh barbarian quickly drops the weapon. Yes. It is prudent to know such things. Can you check these items? We may need to fight again before we are back in a safe place.
"Our next step," Absinthe wheezes as she puts her doctor's mask back on and lurches unsteadily to her feet, "is holing up somewhere I can vomit without infecting innocents. After that, rest up until our casters can regain their curative spells, and try to rid us of this plague. Maybe some of those scrolls can help. But in any case, we get out of here. Maybe hole up in the quarters upstairs. I am in no condition to kill those grey maidens as I am right now."
There is wisdom in what you say. But we do have allies. They need to hear the truth.
"Majenko can deliver a note," Absinthe says.
"Oh...I am feeling better after all," says Melianthe, watching the pustules clear from her hands. She wanders over to the magical items. "Boys, try not to kill each other. Er, Cherias, I know you're a boy as well, but..." she shrugs with a smile.
As she inspects each item in turn, mask off again, she half-talks to the group, half to herself. "Do we truly know the Queen is behind this? Or could there be other conspirators, or other forces entirely? Who can we trust, anyhow?"
"The freakish undead blight said she was," Absinthe says as she leans against a clear section of wall. "She thought she was going to smear us against the floor. Why lie?"
"Oh...right...your lovely queen enjoined me to create this, or whatever that thing said. My apologies, I was seeing stars for a while there," says Melianthe with an impish grin. All the identification of items and the curative spell seem to have put the elf in a good mood, and her scorpion hops out of her hood to scuttle around and inspect Andaisin's remains. "Don't eat that, Hloire. It's not good carrion."
"Yes, of course the great villainess would have told us the truth before she smooshed us and/or turned us into zombies," says Melianthe. "Abby, you should lay down. We have time to work this mess out--don't overexert yourself."
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"Seren, care to do the honors with the headband? Did Arkminos say anything interesting while we lay here coughing?"
Melianthe waves the wand at Absinthe.
"Damn, that didn't work. Let me try again.". She looks down the 'barrel' of the wand, shakes it, and prepares anew...
"Shall I keep trying until we drain this wand?" . Melianthe looks mildly disappointed.
"Save it till morning. You can cast it better yourself, if you will. You're stronger than this stick."
"Sorry, Mel ... got distracted by this mess. Yeah, the vampire up and left, but he left behind a sheaf of notes in a secret room. Let's hit that up before we depart."
You gather what you can and make your way to the lift, with Tobar helping Ruan walk. Battered and spent, you gather together and ride up to the main floor. As you emerge from the elevator into the hospice, you immediately sense something amiss -- many of the cots are empty of patients, including ones where you had hidden the slain physicians and Gray Maidens.
Rounding the corner, you find a half-dozen fully-armored Maidens standing at the ready. Ishani Dhatri and the other Varisian prisoners kneel nearby, under guard. With a clatter of metallic armor, four more Maidens emerge from the stairwell behind you, weapons sheathed but with hands on hilts.
A Gray Maiden bearing an exceptional falchion steps forward, removing her helmet to address you. You recognize her from your visit to Castle Korvosa: Sabina Merrin, the Queens's handmaiden bodyguard, and now Commander of the Gray Maidens. Since your last meeting, her beauty has been marred by several crisscrossing scars.
She regards you harshly. "At last they emerge, sisters. These are the vile murderers and purveyors of blood veil. To think we mistook them for heroes."
Ishani speaks up, trying to intervene. "No, my lady... they are the ones who killed Davaulus. They have been trying to stop the plague, not the other way around."
Sabina snorts, unconvinced. "This one's hammer killed my sisters," she says, nodding at Segang. "Its marks are clear. As clear as their guilt!"
"Your sisters were working with Davaulus, Sabina. Perhaps you should check their logbooks before assigning blame so capriciously and arbitrarily. By all the sun-blighted Gods, we just slew the damn architects of blood veil. If you think that we're capable of decanting liquids off of leukadaemons and trafficking with Urgathoa, you're more of an idiot than you look."
Melianthe isn't done yet. "Perhaps one of you has a spell to detect falsehood or evil. Run it over us. Talk to the dead Grey Maidens via spell. I don't care. We didn't do it, and furthermore one of our group--you remember 'One', here?" she points to a very sickly Absinthe. "She was struck with blood veil by a transformed Urgathoan cultist. We nearly died while the city had their thumbs up their Rovagug-holes. Now help us clean this up or get out of our way."
She adds, a little quieter, "I'm sorry about whatever happened to your face. We are very tired, and we need help to cure the blood veil. Please."
"What she said," Absinthe says, as she moves closer to a wall. "Now I'd recommend you keep back. My stomach's been heaving since I got infected, and if I puke it might be contagious."
Sabina pauses a moment, but then her face hardens and she glares at Melianthe. "Don't try to frighten us with your beguiling words, witch." She points at Absinthe. "We will do Korvosa a service and burn your infected corpse along with the rest of this vile place."
"You may have slain that deceiver Davaulus and his Urgathoa-loving friends, but you are a still criminals. You attacked Gray Maidens -- Portya, Catrine, Lysett and Rohwen -- lawfully appointed defenders of Queen Ileosa and Korvosa. No, you signed your death warrants when you murdered my sisters..." Sabina draws her great falchion, and on cue, the other Gray Maidens draw steel in unison.
"Sabina, stop!"
Cressida Kroft pushes into the room, four Korvosan guardsmen at her side, and an indignant Nurse Torthus in the waiting room beyond. The Field Marshal moves to Sabina's side, holding up a calming hand. "These are my agents, acting under my orders. They are not the enemy, and I will not see them summarily executed." Kroft's tone is firm but against the more numerous and heavily armored Gray Maidens, her squad's presence is clearly overshadowed.
Sabina's face twitches, but her anger remains boiling. "You shouldn't be here, Cressida. Your 'agents' murdered Gray Maidens. For that offense alone, I cannot let them live. Regardless of your orders or their intent, their lives are forfeit. "
"Its my fault," Cressida commiserates. "I should have kept closer watch over their activities -- maybe I could have prevented this tragic misunderstanding. But its done and Desna weeps for us all. I take full responsibility for this... I will debrief them and, if necessary, see they face the consequences, but I need them alive, Sabina."
"Please, old friend..."
Sabina's features remain locked in a hard mask, but she holds Cressida's gaze for a long moment. Then, with a controlled sigh, she looks away and nods curtly.
Cressida turns to you, inclining her head towards the door. "Let's go... now. Her tone brooks no argument.
Ishani and the Varisians hastily make their way towards the exit as the Gray Maidens stand down and sheathe their weapons.
Segang is ready to argue; to state that the maidens attacked them and that defending yourself is not murder. And to present evidence that these maidens looked corrupt, but he realizes that none of that will help now. So he simply follows Cressida saying nothing and only thinking that he would have taken a few maidens with him in the fight.
Absinthe notices much, but keeps quiet.
Her hand does stray towards the hilt of her rapier when steel is drawn, but she freezes when Marshall Croft intervenes .... and the moment and the implicit threat pass.
Only when the group is well away from the house of horrors does the Tiefling speak up, addressing the Marshal: "Thank you. One vows there were reasons, and there is much to tell. Somewhere safe."
Cressida nods to Absinthe as she leads you, the guards, Ishani and the Varisian survivors away from the hospice. She pauses a few blocks away. "The streets aren't safe. Come with me to Citadel Volshyenek, and we can speak privately."
You reach the citadel a few minutes later. Even though its mid-morning, the streets are empty. Other than the circling birds overhead and the distant subdued noises from the docks, the only sign of activity is more than a dozen columns of smoke rising to the north, in the direction of Old Korvosa.
At the citadel gates, Tobar gives sincere thanks on behalf of those you rescued from the hospice, then leads Ruan and the other Varisians away towards their homes. Cressida dismisses the guard escort then leads you and Ishani into her office. She unbuckles her sword and places it on her desk, then slumps into her chair with a heavy sigh.
"I'm lucky I got there when I did. Reports came in of a battle at the Hospice, Gray Maidens were being summoned from all over Korvosa, and I'd heard you were seen in the area. I had a hunch you might be in trouble," she finishes with a tired grin. "What did you find?" she adds, more seriously.
Much. Segang states. The source of the plague and the cleric who created it along with her allies who are all dead with the exception of one who helped us and has now fled the city. And a few people who seem immune to the disease. I think this cleric was trying to break that immunity when we killed her. Segang goes on to provide what details he can remember, embellishing nothing and trying to provide only facts with no opinion. We have these notes. he adds. And I want you to know that the maidens we killed attacked us. I am confident that they were corrupt and knew what they were guarding.
Cherias presents Rolth's notebook, adding them to the pile with Davaulus's and Arkminos's research. "It will take a little time to really dig into these, but the little I have perused... I think Segang nailed it. Repulsive stuff," he groans, looking dismayed. "Maybe we can twist their research around, and use the Varisians' immunity to build a cure. I think if Ishani and I put our heads together, we might be able to come up with something."
"How soon, please?" Absinthe asks as she half sits and half falls into a chair -- but not until after she has made a circuit of the room, checking for spyholes and other ways the room could be spied upon.
"Also, one feels it important to note: that Urgathoa-worshipping bag of entrails implied she had been employed by a person known to us all to create the plague. She named the queen."
Cressida holds a warning hand up. "Beware what you say and who you say it to. If you speak such treason in the wrong company, even I will not be able to save you. Had you said that in front of Sabina, that encounter would have had a much different outcome." She shakes her head and rubs her eyes. "It seems you have done Korvosa a great service once again. Whether or not the Gray Maidens or... 'higher echelons'... were involved, I cannot say. I hope it is not so," she pauses a moment, biting her lip. "But at this point, very little would surprise me."
"Most importantly, you have the inroads to a cure. Please see to that! Hopefully by destroying blood veil's source, you have prevented its further spread. But many and more are still infected. Anything you can come up with to help... well, we already owe you much."
"I will do what I can to make sure this hospice and its secret compartments are destroyed. I will also keep an ear to the ground, in case something else comes up. Please, keep a low profile for a while... I fear you've made some enemies, and as you can see, my influence is waning."
"Save the city, gain the enmity of the government. No surprise there!"
Seren's exasperated sigh is only half exaggerated, "Regardless, let's get this cure done and let's offload this gear to reoutfit for future endeavors."
"Cressida, while I appreciate your efforts to rescue us, and save your own influence in the process..." Melianthe looks a little sharply at the Marshall "...you need trusted people to get into that 'hospital' right away, before Sabina makes it look like we slaughtered innocent Grey Maidens and sets us up further as villains. Now we can't get back in there to study anything further. There are healthy Varisians...natives, I mean...who are immune to blood veils. Perhaps we could work with Abadarans--with some financing--to create a cure."
The dusk elf crosses her arms. "While the words we speak may sound treasonous, they were uttered by Andaisin, who had no reason to speak falsely. She figured we were about to die by her undead hand and scythe. We nearly did."
"Witch isn't an insult anyhow," she mutters to Hloire.
Cressida nods grimly. "I will do what I can," she repeats. "Get to work on that cure and make an end to this plague."
I am not sure we have a safe place to retreat to any more. Do you have a recommendation?
Cressida shakes her head, "No, sadly. I'd suggest Vencarlo Orisini's place, but Old Korvosa is cut off. If you are still staying at the Three Rings Tavern, its a well-known place. I doubt anyone would confront you there. Of course, there are plenty of empty, abandoned places around the city nowadays."
"One would prefer an isolated place, while one is still infectious," Absinthe says, grimly. "Marshall Kroft, mayhap you should start considering an exit strategy. Matters feel as though they are spiralling out of control, and you .... you are one of few who have been straight with us. One would not enjoy hearing you had disappeared into the castle dungeons."
"Thanks for the warning," she replies, dead pan. "But for now, as long as the Guard has a place in this city, my place is here. This is where I can do the most good for Korvosa."
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"Speaking of you still being infectious..."
Melianthe takes out her wand and waves it carefully over Absinthe. "There. Blood veil has been lifted. We can leave all the veil oddness in our little group to Seren."
She nods at the illusionist. "Are you...thinking about the Three Rings? I know I'm a two pint maximum person myself, but I think I'd rather go back there than anywhere else right now. Let the Maidens or whomever come. We'll throw tankards at them."
Emotional elf that she is, Melianthe is eager to get to some carousing and pointedly ignores the Marshall.
A few weeks pass...
Using the combined notes and research taken from Davaulus, Rolth and Arkminos, Cherias and Ishani Dhatri are able to quickly develop a cure. Indeed, the three authors had latched onto the singular weakness of blood veil -- the complete immunity of some with Varisian blood -- but none of them had completely deduced the nature of the immunity. If they had corresponded their research more openly, it is certain Andaisin could have re-manufactured an even more virulent strain.
Cherias and Ishani's cure is remarkably simple to concoct, and benefits from the disease's supernatural origins. A person suffering from blood veil who receives the cure, in seven day becomes a vector for the cure, passed to others in the same manner blood veil spread. Developing the cure elixir takes a couple days and an alchemical lab, but is aided by the help of available donors. Tobar, Ruan and the other Varisian survivors are more than happy to lend draws of their blood to the cause. Within a couple weeks of delivering the elixir to suffering citizens -- which Cherias demands to be free of charge (to which Ishani strongly agrees, although it clashes with the tenets of Abadar) -- blood veil is all but defeated!
Korvosa is wounded. After the riots and destruction following King Eodred's death, and the widespread death of the blood veil epidemic, the city is in a state of sullen shock. Even after the plague is routed, the streets remain dull and muted, strangely empty except for when markets quietly open. People seem to be more interested in staying safely home than going out, and when they do emerge, they shuffle quickly to their destinations and conduct their business swiftly. Old Korvosa remains tightly quarantined, and the plumes of smoke and occasional roars of riots and fighting from Endrin Isle speak to the chaos rampant within.
The Gray Maidens do not harass you, but their presence on the streets grows more and more prominent. Progressively oppressive laws and edicts continue to appear from Castle Korvosa. Other bastions of order are steadily disintegrating... The Order of the Nail Hellknights completely withdraw their forces from the city, retreating to Citadel Vraid for the first time in Korvosa's history. The Sable Company is in shambles after the riots, and the Korvosan Guard has taken staggering hits to both its personnel and morale. The major temples -- Abadar, Asmodeus, Pharasma and Sarenrae -- have their hands full tracking down the last remnants of blood veil, and the Academae continues to keep its doors shut and withhold its resources.
***
At the bequest of Cherias, you gather for lunch one day at the Three Rings Tavern. Since he has been working on the cure and giving aid to the suffering, you have not seen much of him recently. He arrives with Ishani Dhatri and a stranger -- a Garundi man dressed in a simple tunic, and wearing the scarab symbol of Khepri, an Osirion god.
"My friends, this is Jarha Madu, a man I've come to know well and work alongside recently. He is a good man, kind and trustworthy. I think you will find him more than capable replacement for me going forward." After this shocking statement, he lets out a heavy sigh, and you see clearly Cherias's fatigue. "I fear I must say goodbye to the adventuring life. Things we've discovered, evils uncovered... they weigh heavily on my heart. I've never been a crusader, not the kind you need to see these evils defeated. My calling has always been to aid the poor and downtrodden, and there is much work to be done for them in Korvosa. Should you ever need my help, you have but to ask, but I feel with Jarha you will be in good hands."
Jarha listens quietly and nods to indicate his willingness to take Cherias’ place. He lowers his hood, revealing a face marked by numerous shallow scars and blemishes. “I have served and lived among the poor here in Korvosa for several years, particularly in the Varisian community. I know Cherias from that work and know what a great shock it must be to hear he cannot continue. I have admired your recent efforts on behalf of the city and would be honored to be of assistance. I come from the town of Wati in Osirion. That city still bears the scars of a plague inflicted by followers of Lamashtu over a thousand years ago. So please trust me when I tell you I feel a deep personal appreciation for the service you have rendered to Korvosa.”
Jarha pauses briefly, and then continues, fingering the silver scarab hanging around his neck: “Khepri is my guiding light, but if we are to work together I must be honest with you about the truth of what I can offer. It is something I generally have kept hidden here in Korvosa, but most of the assistance I can provide is not by virtue of divine blessings – my power to call upon Khepri’s aid is quite limited – but due to another gift I was born with: I can with my mind control the invisible aether that constantly surrounds all matter. I can move great weight with my mind, manipulate objects and attack foes at a distance. I also can heal, although I confess it comes at the cost of some exhaustion to me or the one I heal. If you will have me, I am sure I can be of assistance and I will be most willing to accommodate myself to your needs. I cannot hope to provide the lively and vibrant presence Cherias did, but I hope you will find me of use.”
Exhausted from the week of fighting the Blood Veil and probably a bit of his body staving off the disease, Seren somehow finds the constitution to get through Rolth's spellbook, trying not to vomit as he passes over the necromancy spells and frustrated as he finds the evocation ones still so confusing. He is ultimately successful, however and adds some significant power to his repetoire and he smiles to himself, lazily considering new uses of his ability to fly and mentally reminding himself to learn how to master that skill ... and he nods off over the book in his room by himself, his lit candle still burning on his bedside table.
His dreams, never pleasant, are a blast from the past focusing on being chased around the Acadamae grounds by an ever changing amalgamation of school bullies, Gaedren Lamm, Dr Davalus, Rolth and the bizarre jester woman. They pursue him through shadowy corridors always just one step behind him, their icy fingers brushing at his back, shoulders, hair and then neck.
Slowly, those fingers get closer and closer until he can't escape them. They wrap around his neck, cold and crushing and he awakes gasping for air ...
.. and still strangling! Panicked the wizard thrashes about ...
Who ... what ... attacked, here, now? It can't be. Where are the others?
Seren, quickly realizing his consciousness and likely life is a fleeting thing, focuses hard ... peering through the flickering shadows to try and pick out the details of his assailant.
Wait ... it is the shadow! That tricky bastard!
Realizing that he failed in his nightly precautions having gotten complacent with his enslaved shadow, he left the candle burning ... allowing his shadow access to his sleeping form.
With a final gasp of effort, the half elf reaches for the candle, smashing his hand over the wick, burning his palm but plunging the room back into utter darkness, causing his shadow to disappear back to its plane.
The wizard takes a deep breath, coughing before he arises and digs around in his backpack to find his wrapped night glass ...
Looks like someone needs a reminder of who's in charge here ...
The exhausted wizard, angered and flustered and bearing brand new white scars around his neck plunges back into the Shadow plane for a lesson in power ...
Seren arrives for lunch distracted, unconsciously feeling the scars on his neck. He's taken to using his veil whenever out and this week has been working on trying the form of a halfling valet and is sitting on his chair gloomily kicking his feet back and forth when Cherias makes his announcement.
The unexpected comment causes the wizard to overturn his chair and he embarassingly collects himself, standing back on the seat to stare alternately at Cherias and Jarhu.
"Wati, huh? That's a hell of ways off from Varisia? What brought you out this way to this perversion of government and abuse of authority?"
"That's a bit of a long story... But, in short, I realized my path was not to remain and serve the spiritual needs of the community of laborers in Wati in which I was born. And I discovered it would be more... comfortable... to develop my unusual abilities away from my homeland. That's over 20 years ago, some of it spent lending my abilities to groups of explorers in Cheliax and Varisia, some of it spent traveling with Varisian caravans. And then I was ready to be in one place for a bit and found the Varisian community here in Korvosa had true need, and I have been comfortable among them, if not of them."
Melianthe has been busy the last few weeks, healing the sick, although she cannot bear to wear her doctor's mask for long periods, seeing as how the horrible, voiceless physicians wore them in a mockery of healing. She makes sure to only travel through the city at night, and carefully covered up, wary of Grey Maidens on patrol, although they all know that the little group of Kroft's 'deputies' can easily be found in the Three Rings' common room.
She finds herself thinking about the wounds on Sabina's face. Wasn't there another Grey Maiden who had disfigured her face? What was the cause of that? A disease, or dark magic that affected the mind? No answers come to her immediately. She hears word that some of the Lambs in the orphanage died of blood veil, and this throws her into a grim mood. Demitri would have been distraught to see the Sable Company like this...the city is falling apart, she thinks, after seeing a crowd throwing stones at a griffin and grounded rider one evening, with an impassive group of Hellknights simply observing.
She buries herself in learning new spells through communing with Hloire, and learning new languages to summon up elementals, and of course, chatting with Absinthe, Seren (who seems grim as well--she was jealous of his ability to read Rolth's spellbook at first, but then decided it was perhaps a blessing), and stoic Segang. Their usual meals together are an island of stability for her. I used to be such an odd, haughty -elf-, she thinks. Now I am just part of this strange family.
When Cherias gives his brief, warm farewell speech, Melianthe's eyes moisten. She seems on the verge of begging him not to leave. But she takes a breath and takes Jarha's hands. "I am Melianthe. Welcome, Jarha. Any friend of Cherias' is a friend of ours. The dramatic halfling is Seren," she says with a smile. "You...move the aether? That is fascinating. I hadn't heard of such a thing. Can you show us?"
Jarha nods in greeting to Melianthe. "I am no scholar, but aether is invisible matter that surrounds us at all times. We don't feel it or notice it, but somehow I am able to manipulate it with my mind. I think of it almost as a fifth element. In Osirion, powerful elemental clans rule the deserts and even have become involved with politics and the Prince. I do not know if the clans consider aether an element, but I wanted to get far away from the influence of those clans as I explored my abilities."
"But I digress. I have not spoken to anyone about these matters in a long time. You asked for a demonstration. What I can do in this public space won't seem much more than parlor tricks, but it may give you some idea." Jarha looks around to make sure no one is watching them and then he lifts his drink to his mouth with his mind; he nods towards a door across the room and turns the handle to open it; he stretches an arm on the table and wraps it with strands of aether so it becomes invisible. "I can't do much more without drawing a great deal of attention."