Well, then," Pel says after Ilsa briefs him and Zamanda on Zellara. "I'm even more eager to meet her now. We never discussed phenomena like this at the Acadamae. Granted, it could have been a subject in a class I hadn't taken yet."
"As for the plague... disease... sickness... whatever it is, if you're convinced we need to investigate the ship, then so be it, but I think we're better off leaving it be. If it can infect the water and the air, it's already too late. We have to work on containment, in that case. Once we consult with Zellara, it might be good to go to Varor's temple and get their perspective on the matter."
”Well we need to know our limitations. Can we protect ourselves, and we can loot the ship. Gold for us, evidence for the city, on what caused it. But we can’t quarantine it, because we aren’t the guard. We have no authority. We don’t have the man power to do anything beyond our immediate reach.”
"Alright guys let's stop planning on how we rebuild the house before the hurricane even hits, let's just take this one thing at a time," Varor says, trying to get things back on track.
The safehouse Vencarlo provided to you looks like it hasn't been used in a couple of months. The accommodations could hardly be called luxurious, but they are comfortable enough. There are enough beds for each of you and their stuffing is in good shape, free of vermin. The windows are all barred on the outside with shutters and blinds on the interior. On the lower floor is a kitchen and common area with a table large enough to seat the entire party.
As you settle in and begin to talk about Zellara, Ilsa feels a low pressure in her mind, a sense of gentle urgency and an urge to take out the Harrow deck and place it on the table. It's not so much a magical compulsion, as it is an empathic understanding of someone else's desire.
Pel waits, somewhat impatiently, for Zellara to appear.
Ilsa pulls the Harrow Deck from one of her pouches and, somewhat unsure of what to do, places it on the table. For a moment, nothing happens but you eventually realize the smell of incense has begun to permeate the room with light wisps of smoke filtering through, turning shades of green, blue and purple when they touch the candles Bashiel has lit. Then, from around a corner leading to a back room, Zellara steps forward, a quiet smile on her lips. She looks almost exactly as she did before. A simple Korvosan woman with colorful clothes and a headscarf.
"I'm glad to see you all again, in person, such as it is. Brin, Gregor and Quinn have all gone their own ways, but now I see you have two new friends." She greets them both, "Zamanda, Pellius, I'm sorry for the mystery around me. My name is Zellara. These fine people and their friends helped me with a personal favor and to right an injustice." She clasps both of your hands in a grip that is warm and soft.
Zamanda smiles at the woman. Instead of being worried about the impossibility of the whole thing, she finds herself caught up in the wonder of it, and she greets Zellara warmly, saying
You know me? That's so amazing. I would love to help you as well. What do you need?
And, because she can't stop worrying about it, she adds
And do you happen to know anything about how to stop a plague?
Questions fill Pel's head as Zellara appears and clasps his and Zamanda's hands. How did she know their names? And what exactly was this injustice the others had helped her right?
Putting those questions aside for the moment, Pel says to Zellara, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, madam. Your reputation precedes you. If I may ask, who are you? And where did you come from?"
"Its good to see you again Zellara. I was a little worried that you would have some difficulty manifesting again, what with your lingering regret resolved." He smiles with some difficulty as some of his ancestors once again advise for Zellara's spirit to be put to rest without delay. "Glad that isn't the case. We could use your help."
"The city is caught up in quite the upheaval, and the more we've tried to help, the more we've seen threat after threat appear. The plague Zamanda mentions is just one of them, but probably the most pressing one." He pauses, focusing, trying to block out the increasingly ardent suggestions from his ancestors. "When we met you for the first time, you showed some skill at divination. I'm hoping you might be able to provide us some guidance."
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Though Ilsa initially had some trepidation about summoning Zellara again, when she finally sees her, she is overcome with gratitude.
She set me on this path...she helped me find Briget...
"Zellara! I am glad to see you again! You were right...you were right about everything. Briget. Powers I didn't know I had. What do we need to do now? Can you find rest?"
Varor takes a seat waiting quietly for proper introductions to be made before speaking up, "I hate to be the one to rush this along Zellara, but you're the one who wanted to speak with us and we have a plague on the horizon that we need to prepare for. So if you have some insight or wisdom you'd like to pass along then please make it quick."
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Zellara goes around the table and sits, gesturing the others should do the same as she picks up the deck of cards and begins to shuffle and manipulate them while talking. "Yes, in a moment, though I understand the urgency, it helps the Harrowing if we know one another. Which is to say, Zamanda and Pel, I have been watching and listening since you began traveling with the group or, more specifically, Quinn. You see, he is the one who carried my Harrow Deck."
She splays the cards out before her before flipping them in a line and pulling them back into a hand. "I don't quite understand it, but to put it plainly, I was murdered. I'm..." Her breath catches slightly as she struggles with the word, then adds, "Dead. I'm dead. But somehow my spirit has come to inhabit my old Harrow deck. From it, I can see and hear what is happening around me... or it, as it may be."
She looks at Bashiel and Ilaa, "Honestly, I'm a little surprised I'm still here, too. I can only guess there is more work for us to do."
Definitely had me fooled, Pel thinks when Zellara says she's dead.
Pel says to Zellara, "I'm glad you're still around. Korvosa needs all the help it can get. The city is still not well. Any advice you could offer would be greatly appreciated."
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After a few more moments of conversation, Zellara invites everyone to sit if they haven't already. "Now, the nature of a Harrow reading is not to predict the future. It is simply to layout possible futures that are influenced by your past and the present. So, we will begin." The dining room seems to have warmed a few degrees, becoming cozy and comfortable.
Bashiel draws the Sickness and Zellara inhales sharply as the warmth fades. "Disease of the body and soul, an ill omen, for you in particular. Be cautious."
Pel draws the Tangled Briar. "Old evils return to endanger the present. Something from your past, or Korvosa's... it is unclear."
Kalem draws the Trumpet. "A declaration of power or display of your strengths will bring you good fortune."
Zamanda draws the Mountain Man. "Hmm, curious." She places her fingers over the card as her eyes drift to Zamanda, studying her while channeling the card's energy. "The card symbolizes an external power, physical in nature, something unusually large. Moving against you? Your family?"
Varor draws the Brass Dwarf and Zellara smiles slightly. "A good omen, this. Dwarven constitution represents fortitude and resilience in the face of peril. You shall persevere where others fall."
Ilsa draws the Teamster. "This is less clear. Your future is in flux. The Teamster represents an external pressure, perhaps of society. You will confront it, or be part of it... it is clouded in shadow."
She takes a slow breath, inhaling through her nose and out through her mouth. Though you know mentally she is now but a spirit, the affectations of life cling to her as naturally as they do to you. She then waves a hand over the table and the cards you drew for the Choosing lift from the table and return to the deck. To say that she then "shuffled" the cards would be an understatement. The cards fly between her hands in a veritable dance before they eventually settle. With a flick of her fingers, nine cards are then spread face down before her in a three by three grid. "We now begin the Harrowing itself. While the Choosing spoke to your personal futures, the Harrowing speaks to us all as a group. To understand the future, we must begin in the past." She interprets each card as she flips it over before moving to the next.
At the middle-left: "The Keep signifies resiliance in the face of a threat. Though your motives differ, you have formed a strong bond that has carried you through danger."
As she turns the card at the bottom-left, a cold draft comes through the room and candles flicker. "The Juggler... past choices or decisions may be thwarted by fate. Not all you've accomplished will stand the test of time."
As the draft subsides and light returns to normal, her lips tighten as she considers the warning, but then presses on. "We now move to the present. Events that move about you and which lead to the future."
At the center-top: "The Marriage is a union of persons or ideas. As the Keep spoke to the past, in the present your sharing of ideas and care for one another will make a stronger team."
In the middle: "The Uprising. Diverse interests come together to bring change. This could speak to you but it could also speak to something building as yet unseen. Perhaps the Urgathoans do not operate alone."
At the bottom: "The Avalanche, and in this position, a warning of significance. The Avalanche is a card of unrelenting disaster." She pauses, looks over the cards drawn so far, seems to consider something, then continues.
"We now turn to the future. What is to come can only be due to what happens in the present and has happened in the past. It can be changed. These are guides or warnings..."
At the top-right: "The Courtesan and in a powerful location, too. The card warns of political intrigue but, here, it suggests an opportunity. You've a potential ally in the Queen's Court, if that person can be turned to your goals."
At the middle-right: "Hmm. The Big Sky also aligned in a position of power. The card signifies freedom from bondage. A friend or ally, perhaps a loved one, finds themselves trapped. You must free them."
At the bottom-right: "Our final card is..." Her breath catches in her throat as she turns over the Cyclone, fingers trembling slightly. The candles flare then gutter and die, the only light left in the room the little bit of moonlight filtering in from outside. Practically disembodied, Zellara's voice is low and ominous. "The most signficiant card in the deck, a card of darkness and death in a position of dire portents. Chaos. Destruction. Evil aligned against you."
She speaks a quiet word of magic and the candles flicker back to life and she surveys the cards once more. "The Avalanche and the Cyclone. The Uprising. You speak of a plague. Right now, the factors behind this evilness move beyond your view, conspiring against Korvosa and soon... their plans will be unleashed. You mustn't tarry. But, no matter how much you do, many will still die. You cannot stop that, but you can blunt the edge. You must."
"I..." She shivers, almost a convulsion, then sighs, her shoulders sagging in exhaustion. "I hope that is of some help, but... the darkness and evil at the edge of the Harrowing. The city is in grave danger, indeed."
Harrow Points
In “Edge of Anarchy,” the PCs are faced with numerous situations where they need to be quick on their feet or skilled with their hands. During this chapter, a character can spend his Harrow Points in the following ways.
Constitution Rerolls: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to reroll a Fortitude saving throw, stabilization check, or other Constitution-based check. She must abide by the new result (although if she has additional Harrow Points remaining, she can use them to attempt additional rerolls).
Damage Reduction: A PC can spend a Harrow Point to gain DR 3/—. This damage reduction persists for the duration of the encounter in which she spent the Harrow Point. A PC can’t spend multiple Harrow Points to increase this damage reduction.
Fast Hit Point Recovery: A PC can spend a Harrow Point after resting for 1 minute to recover from her recent ordeals. She regains a number of hit points equal to her character level and 1 point of ability damage each time she does so (this does not remove ability drain). She can spend a Harrow Point in this manner once after each encounter.
;-)
'First doors that are now locked to me forever and now the fortitude to endure a blight,' Varor thinks as the harrowing concludes. 'Am I cursed to suffer at the hands of good fortune? To only be embraced by suffering? Is that why I was abandoned, because disaster follows me no matter what I do? Or have I done something that as earned me the spite of a greater power'
"Oh," Varor sighs putting his face in his hands, "F***. I don't think we're going to be able to get a warning out in time."
Pel is fascinated by Zellara’s Harrow reading. He’s never seen anything like it before. They certainly didn’t do anything remotely similar to it at the Acadamae. They would probably consider it too occult.
Though the arcanist studies what Zellara does, he finds it hard to make heads or tails of how she does it. That could at least partially be accounted for by the fact that he’s incredibly distracted by what her reading says.
Tangled Briar? Old evils? Pel wonders. And that doesn’t even begin to cover what Zellara stated about the others or about their group as a whole.
Pel’s heart skips a beat when Zellara speaks of the Big Sky. Freedom from bondage? Could she be talking about Rut? Could there be hope after all? Pel has to force himself to remain calm. He’s had too many false hopes over the past couple weeks to allow himself to indulge in this one. Still, none of his previous leads had ever come from a ghost named Zellara. The others seem to trust her. Should he?
So many things to consider and yet time is short. Some things will have to wait. Pel soberly notes Zellara’s words about the plague. It's on the horizon and it might already be here, lying dormant or incubating. It can’t be stopped, but they can blunt the edge. They have to do that. They have to stop the worst of it, before Korvosa destroys itself from the inside out.
“Thank you for your reading, Zellara,” Pel says. “You’ve given us much to think on. Besides your reading itself, I must ask, do you have any advice or suggestions on how to proceed? We were going to consult with Varor’s temple, but it sounds like the plague is already upon us. How do we blunt the edge?”
Pel asks the same of his companions, “What are we to do? Do we warn others and risk a panic? Or do we work to heal others behind the scenes? Surely at least the temple of Sarenrae and any others willing to help the needy should be notified. We should monitor Bash closely as well, given his drawing of the Sickness.”
Bashiel leans forward in his seat in anticipation of the fortune telling. He had been skeptical for the first one, but he'd seen enough of Zellara's supernatural nature to know that this held true power behind it. He swallows, feeling an anxious buzz deep within as she shuffles.
The discussion and argument from his companion spirits dies down to an exchange of whispers. Even they seem to sense the weight of the occasion.
As Zellara lays out 9 cards to be selected by individual members, a clear reedy voice arises in the fore-front of Bashiel's mind. It seems strangely foreign, not one of the spirits that speaks often. But its will seems to blaze brightly in his mind's eye. He breathes in the smoke. His eyes lose their focus as he reaches for a card. His lips part, whispering words out into flickering haze of the room.
~A lone lingering will sees the past in regrets, an untethered soul bears the present forever, and the undying bear no love for that which still comes. The forces formed here bear fetters. Bound by the narrow view of but one life. The truth is always greater.~
~Allow...-
-...me~
A wreath of grey mist sits like a scarf around Bashiel's neck. Within its ephemeral swirlings, a hundred overlapping curving features. Mouths. Eyes. Ears. Listening. Watching. Speaking. Silently, but for the whispers coming out of Bashiel's mouth.
One face, starkly unblinking, stares out of the mists at each of you in turn at the moment Zellara interprets your card. Its lips move, its voice a reedy echo across the room, in quiet dissonance with Zellara's. To hear it requires concentration, and yet, what words you grasp shimmer like gold in your mind before fading.
Kalem sat back and smiled.
"A declaration of power or display of your strengths will bring you good fortune."
Yes...that would do. He could feel the power within him. It felt like it was growing stronger with every enemy that he killed. For so long he had lived his life as a con man, making a hustle here, getting enough coin for lunch there, never going anywhere. But since he had met his friends, how many people had they killed? How many lives had been ended on the business end of his hammer? Enough that he could feel his ancestor within him. He could *feel* the flames within his blood. Enough for him to begin casting spells. Him, casting spells! It was so hard to believe. A display of his strength would certainly bring him good fortune. He was sure of it.
He took a deep breath, to calm himself. It wasn't like him to think this way. It was the blood talking, he knew. With great power came change. He just had to keep it under control. He had wanted to talk to Pel about it, but there was something about how his friend had reacted. Fear? Disgust? Whatever it was, he could tell that the mage wasn't a kindred spirit. He had thought about it, and the two didn't seem to be so similar after all. Pel, after all, had earned his power through hard work. It wasn't in his blood. That was too bad, he had hoped to have someone he could talk to. Zamanda was out of the question, for as time went on she looked at him more and more like he was a blackguard. Zaror was a priest, sure. But he didn't feel comfortable going to the holy man for advice. He had never asked the gods for help before, and he wouldn't do so now. Plus, what if he tried to 'cure' him? The idea of losing the rush of power was horrifying. And then there was Ilsa...who probably knew what he was going through, but who seemed even more confused about it all. Finally there was Bash. He liked and respected the man, but what would a paladin know of this? What would a paladin say? The last thing he wanted to do was lose Bash's respect.
He mused on this, even as the harrow reading went on. He didn't have a head for riddles, and that was what the harrow was to him. If she was reading the future, then what happened would happen. Still, he heard her say something about a friend in the queen's court. So perhaps his fortune could well be monetary in nature. A welcome thought.
He was snapped out of this reverie when Bashiel...did something? There was mist around his neck, with shapes in it. He leaned in, looking at it with open curiosity. When the paladin spoke, it was in a voice not his own. It was hard to make out.
Leaning back in his chair again, he looked at the paladin with keen interest. Maybe he had judged the paladin wrong? From what he was seeing, it looked like this little group really was together by fate. It looked like everyone had their secrets, just some more well hidden than others.
Zamanda is interested in the whole affair, and files what is said in the back of her mind, but she can't let it interfere with what needs to be done.
She'd already told her father and her family about the plague. She assumed that Cressida already knew about the plague ship, but there was one group that she hadn't told, who might be able to do some good. This group wouldn't like it though, so she needed to slip off and tell them alone.
First though, were they going to do anything about the ship?
Thank you Zellara. That was amazing.
She turns to the others.
Are we doing anything about the ship? We need to find out how far this has already spread, and stop what we can. Does anyone know of a spell that could freeze the whole ship or do something else to temporarily stop something like that? We probably need to tell the whole city that they need to purify food and water, and make sure that the alchemists and temples are prepared with cure disease potions and spells....
She stops because she knows she is babbling. Sorry. Just... we need to DO something. What's the plan?
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'This is less clear. Your future is in flux. The Teamster represents an external pressure, perhaps of society. You will confront it, or be part of it... it is clouded in shadow.'
Ilsa repeated these words in her mind, trying to find some clarity. Could this have anything to do with that--thing--that was after her in her dreams. It had been quiet for a time, but she could feel something rustling at the edge of her consciousness. Something...waking up? Whatever it was, it controlled the dreams. It controlled the monsters that haunted her. Clouded in shadow? Could this be part of it?
She rouses from her thoughts as she sees Bashiel from the corner of her eye. But it doesn't sound like him. She tries to determine whether this is a nightmare she is having, but remembers that the paladin has spoken with other voices in the past.
Are we so different? Many of us have things we are dealing with. Bashiel, Kalem, me. Probably the others, too.
"Yes...we need to do something. Briget and Gregor aren't safe here. What can we do to help stop this?"
Bashiel breaks out of his trance as Zellara moves on to the harrowing, the mist shawl disappearing with as much fanfare as it appeared with. He listens in with interest, seemingly unaware that anything particularly unusual occurred. As Zellara wraps up he leans with his gauntlet up against his forehead. The coolness of the metal seems to ease a sudden headache.
"That was... well, that's an awful lot to think about. For the past: I can't say I'm surprised some of our gains so far will be unwound, that almost goes without saying when we're but a small group working against much larger forces. For the present: Unrelenting disaster seems appropriate with what we expect to face. And the knowledge that something larger is working behind the scenes..." He looks through the smoke at the faces of his allies "I think we can all agree that we've felt that in one way or another?"
"But the future... A potential ally in the Queen's Court would be powerful indeed. Though-" His eyes grow distant "I can't help but feel that any such ally would be in constant danger." He stares at the table, silent for a few moments. 'Could that be anyone but Mirya? I don't want it to be, but...'
"A friend or ally trapped?" Bashiel mulls this over for a moment before he turns to Pel "You mentioned once you had a missing brother. Someone you lost when the riots began around the city? Between us we have no other loved ones unaccounted for?" He looks to the others for confirmation.
He shakes his head with a sigh "Maybe its madness trying to make too much sense out of it." He inclines towards Zellara with a seated bow "Thank you Zellara, you've given us a lot to think about."
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Bashiel listens in to the earnest questions from his allies, adding "I agree with Pel, there are many ways we can try to help. My inclination is to follow this plague ship back to its origin to try to prevent its source from starting new outbreaks. But Zellara, if you have any insight based on your divination, we'd take it."
"Slowing and stopping a whole plague... I think we alone won't be able to do that. We're no all-powerful mages. We need some organization with manpower and a vested interest in stopping the plague. I'd say the Pharasmites are perfect for this, but they seemed indifferent to the Urgathoans acting right on their doorstep. Varor, do you think the Sarenites would be able to spearhead this effort?"
"No," Varor says, his voice muttered by his hands, "she's army not part of the court, it's someone else. But whoever it is it doesn't really matter right now, we have a disaster coming straight for us we need to get ready. And we can start by thinking of the bigger picture."
He removes his face on his hands and stands up. "You're all assuming it's just one ship. One. There could be more ships on the way carrying a disease without even realizing it. They could have already docked. Or there could be some other means of spread. And even if we did have the tools and resources available to go ship diving it might just be wasted effort, because for all we know it's already a contained threat. If all of those assumptions are wrong it means that the disease is already spreading through the water supply, or the Urgathoans are going to try to get more creative or more direct, assuming they're the ones responsible."
You're right. We don't have all the information... but that doesn't mean we should give up. Let's find out more. Let's go to the ship. Let's talk to organizations around town. Let's learn all we can, and get more than one person working on a cure. We have to figure out what is going on and stop it, and if we can't stop it, we have to find a way to cure it.
First step... let's go get someone to row us out to the sunken ship and see if there are records or something. We can get samples of the water and see if that is how it is being spread, or if it is something else.
"We should at least inform Varor's temple and likely Abadar's. I can inform Zandu... a friend I made not too long ago... and hopefully they'll be able to blunt the edge a bit.
"As for the sunken ship, if we're committed to going out there, we'll want to get some potions of water-breathing, or perhaps a wand. I just hope we don't have to move quickly. I'm pretty terrible at swimming."
"Right. So Varor, think you can get your temple to provide us some with some anti-plague potions, or whatever they have? If we're going to explore and loot this ship, we'll likely need it."
"Maybe, but I doubt they'll have any cure disease potions on hand. If we spot a sickness we could just cure it ourselves. And besides, we still need the equipment actually get down to the ship, it sunk remember?"
”So...potions of water breathing, and a wand of mage armor. That way we can all swim easily, and if we are in danger we will have protection. I’ll also be able to make claws, like Ilsa, if there is anything down there.” Kalem smiled and raised his hands in mock claws. ”But how do we get anything up to the surface? Hmm...any ideas?”
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Ilsa lowers her head and shifts uncomfortably as Kalem discusses her 'claws.'
Dark thoughts pry at the corners of her mind, hoping to find greater purchase than the share of her mind she has allotted to them.
It is coming for me. I'm going to be a monster, just like it.
She clears her throat and abruptly changes the subject. "We don't want to be the first plague victims. We should definitely take precautions, like if there's any way we can gain some resistance to it before we go."
Ilsa thinks about what Bashiel has said. "Do you think our potential ally in the Queen's court is someone other than Cressida?"
While the others discuss, Bashiel sidles over to Ilsa, and uneasily says "I'm worried it might be Mirya. Ah, you met her when we last talked with Cressida. Those Grey Maidens seem very close to the Queen, though maybe not in her court, and she and I go way back. I hope it isn't though. I'd rather she stay out of danger."
Bashiel crosses his arms and says "Varor. Rather than speculating on how much worse it could be, and how many problems we will face, how about thinking about how to solve things? Are the Sarenites going to be willing to fight the plague or not? If you don't know, I'll ask them myself."
"Zamanda, Pel, I like those ideas. Maybe we split up to hit our contacts, alert the temples that'll help, and buy the potions and scrolls we need. Then go together to look at the ship. I still think its a good idea to ask around for where this ship came from and track the source down, too."
When Kalem asks his most recent question, Bashiel says "If it's anything big, we don't. And I'm not sure if we want to recover anything from a plagued ship anyway. It would be better to inspect what we can and then keep the chances of its plague spreading low."
Then in response to Ilsa's most recent question he answers "Alchemical anti-plague. Any decent alchemist's shop should have some. It'll keep us safe, or safer at least."
Varor looks over at Bashiel questioningly, "of course we're going to help. it's not a matter of if, it's a matter of how."
Zellara spends the time you discuss the reading and next steps to collect herself. When she is more centered back in the room, physically and spiritually, she casts a curious gaze at Bashiel. "I didn't realize you were a medium. I'd love to discuss it with you sometime, but obviously that time is not now."
She waves a hand over the table and, as it passes over the cards, they fly up into her hand and reforms a proper deck. It looks to be done with just the slightest touch of her fingers rather than by magic, but is remarkable all the same for the skill it implies.
"You've little time to waste, though you're also going to have to take care of yourselves. I since you've a long and challenging road ahead of you, one that will not be solved by simply charging out into the night."
She stands but leaves the deck of cards on the table. "If there's nothing else, I'll wish you all good day. I need to rest."
mend itself or reappear when no one is looking.
These features are subtle manifestations of the spirit that haunts the cards. In life, Zellara lived by this deck, and in death, she has become the deck. Although this magical harrow deck wasn’t created using the standard method for creating magic items, it should nonetheless be treated as an intelligent magic item. Zellara can sense the world around the deck via sight and sound, and she can communicate with anyone who holds the deck via empathy. She can create a major image once per day, often doing so to generate an image of herself manipulating the cards—in this manner, she can carry on conversations with other creatures in Common or Varisian. She can also cast identify for anyone who holds one of the cards of the deck to his forehead (a move action) up to three times per day.
Zellara’s harrow deck has a special purpose as well: to defend and protect the city of Korvosa, her home in life and in death. In order to attain this purpose, she can periodically perform powerful harrow readings for those she has chosen as Korvosa’s defenders—the PCs. These harrowings grant those who benefit from them a number of Harrow Points that can be used to manipulate fate and chance.
Good day, Zellara. It was nice to meet you.
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The corners of Ilsa's mouth edge up as she bids farewell to Zellara, but she seems to be worried about everything the apparition has told them.
"We will see you soon, I'm sure," she says as she gathers the deck and puts it in her belt pouch.
"I think we should start by gathering as much information as we can about this ship or anyone getting sick. Then we should pick up that antiplugue stuff and check out the ship's resting place."
"Farewell, Zellara," Pel says simply, uncertain what else to say to the mysterious ghost of a woman.
Once she's gone, Pel says, "If we've nothing else to immediately discuss, I'll speak with my contact about spreading the word. Varor or Bashiel, do you think you could pick up a couple scrolls or potions of Remove Disease from one of the temples? Perhaps we should meet back up at an alchemist's shop to get some antiplague stuff together?"
Zamanda finds out what time they are meeting up, and then leaves to run an errand of her own.
Bashiel nods "Works for me Pel. I'll check with the Pharasmites while I'm getting those scrolls. See if they're aware whats going on, and if they're planning anything. That warren in the Grey District should have shocked them into action, I hope."
He looks over at Ilsa, specifically at the deck in her hands. He hesitates for a moment and then tears his eyes away. 'That'll have to wait for another time.'
--Zamanda follows up with her father when he is home to make sure that he knows what is coming and to see if he can suggest any governmental resources towards helping to find a cure. She still has samples, since she only gave CK part of them, so if he knows someone else to work on it, she can help with disease and tissue samples.
--She goes to find her friend from the Thieves' Guild (the one that let her out of the guild and that may or may not be in love with her), and tells him that she has a profitable deal for them if they are interested. She explains finding out about the coming plague, and says that she will share pure samples of the disease and tissue samples if they are willing to commit resources to finding a cure, from which they can make a tidy profit because it will start to spread very soon. It is is a win win because they can be prepared and protect their own, and also help the city and make a profit, and she only wants a token 5% for her assistance.
Zamanda notes any follow up she needs to do with either group, depending on whether they agree to help, or if they ask for or require anything else, and then goes back to meet with the group at the alchemist's shop.
Zamanda returns home but Otto and her mother say that her father has still not yet returned from the Longacre Building. With all the turmoil in the city, it's possible work is just taking a long time.
As for the Thieves Guild...
Varor stops by the Temple of Sarenrae and finds the priests have already encountered signs of something. More people are coming to the temple asking for the healing of maladies, rashes and pock marks. It doesn't seem like a plague, certainly nothing fatal, but the high priest takes the warning seriously. Unfortunately, he summarizes the situation thusly, "If there is indeed a plague upon the city, magic will not be enough to combat it. Only a few priests are able to cast the spell to cleanse a body of such ailments and a virulent plague will quickly surpass our ability to provide miracles."
Bashiel's trip to the Pharasmites is even more frustrating. One of the gravewardens (a more senior cleric) rebuffs Bashiel's entreaty for assistance. "We are here to ward the dead and see to the souls of the departed, not tend to the living. The problems you have outside the Gray District are your responsibility, guardsman."
The Abadaran temple's sentries deny anyone entry but make very pretty noises about helping anyone who is able to pay the required donation in exchange for services, plague or otherwise.
Pel will stop by to see Zandu again and ask if the man is a cleric of Cayden Cailean or if he knows any who are. He'll ask that they help with a potential plague and spread the word that people should be cautious and vigilant. Pel also asks that Zandu keep an ear open for any sign of people who might be involved with the plague. The arcanist will plan to come back to see Zandu in a few days.
From there, Pel will head to the alchemist's shop to meet up with everyone else.
With nothing really to do and no contacts that he cares enough to call on, Kalem will go out to buy the anti plague.
Bashiel spends the long walk over to the Grey District thinking about the upcoming meeting with the Pharasmites. Though he'd taken up the responsibility for looking for their aid, he wasn't looking forward to it. He just never quite felt comfortable around any of them, knowing that if they figured out he was the latest in the Eland line, they'd be after him. Still, if anyone would oppose the Urgathoans, it should be the Pharasmites.
He ran through scenarios, arguments, and pleas in his head, his ancestors chiming in every so often to provide criticism and assistance. He reached their temple in the Grey District too early. Uncomfortably so. Locating a Gravewarden, he delivered his best.
...or at least tried to. Whether it was nervousness on his side or sheer uncaring neutrality from the pharasmites, his pleas fell on deaf ears.
His follow-up attempt to requisition scrolls of remove and delay disease had them shut the temple door in his face. Dejected, but somehow relieved that they hadn't uncovered anything significant about his ancestors, Bashiel made his way to the alchemist's shop to meet up with the others.
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"Nothing. The Pharasmites are going to do absolutely nothing about the plague. They said problems outside the Grey District are none of their business." Bashiel crosses his arms as he relays the verdict from the Grey District "And apparently scrolls of remove disease are expensive. Far more than I had on hand."
He sighs and continues "Even if I could buy one, any outbreak is bound to have dozens of victims, if not even more. It'd be a drop in the bucket..."
"Please tell me there was a better response elsewhere." He looks hopefully at Pel, Zamanda and the rest.