Pirknok removes the borrowed armor and cleans it off before turning it and the axe in to the guardsman on duty. He then helps anyone else who needs it remove their borrowed armor.
When everything's been returned, he yawns widely. "Ah think ah could sleep 'til... wull, furever."
It takes most of the morning and part of the afternoon but you manage to glean a great deal from the single vial of foul liquid.
It appears that this byproduct of the runewell's usage both strengthens and empowers magical energies. The full extent is impossible to determine without more samples but from just the small amount tested you've gained some useful insight into your own usage of alchemical formulae.
You are also able to confirm that this liquid was responsible for the mutations seen on the goblin dog present during that attack on Sandpoint and the giant goblin. It's difficult to tell how much but exposure to the fluid does have long term effects in living creatures.
Enduring Fomulae - Up to 3 times per day you may improve an extract as though affected by the Extend metamagic feat. This must be chosen when the extract is created and can only be used on extracts up to 3rd level. This does not increase the level of the extract.
Volatile Formulae - Once per day you may improve an extract or bomb as though affected by the Empower metamagic feat. If used on an Extract, this must be chosen when the extract is created and can only be used on extracts up to 3rd level. This does not increase the level of the extract.
Doran returns his armor to the Armory, before attempting to head back to the Dragon to pass out. He is, however, shanghai'd by Pirknok, Ysme and 'Ventus before he gets the chance. "Look, I don' care if 'is 'air turned t' snakes an' started eatin' people, I'm beat. Le's make 'is quick," he complains as they drag him off.
Ysme grabs Ventus's arm.
"Come on, we have to wake up Father Zantus. This is bad. Look at him!" she cries while pointing at the ranger's hairless dome.
"That's not normal!"
Pirknok frowns at Ysme and Ventus, and turns back to the guard on duty. "Err... kin I keep thet axe uh bit longer? Ah... ah made a promise..."
"Sorry, the sheriff will have my hide if a weapon like that goes missing for a night."
***
The party makes their way across town to the cathedral. Zantus lives in a room in the rear of the building. The middle-aged priest meets you with obvious sleep in his eyes. Tonight was his first night getting to bed at a decent hour.
"What is it Ysme? Ensu? What time is it? Is the city under attack again?"
Pirknok frowns and looks over at Ventus. "Ventus... wut we talked uhbout... ya might want ta giv me yer weppins... jest en case."
He turns to Zantus, indicating first Ventus and then Ysme. "Um... he los' all his hair, an' she sed you cud help?" His voice is hesitant and a bit confused.
The middle-aged man squints at Ventus and cocks his head.
"That' strange, I do remember him having a full head of hair before..."
"What have you lot been up to?"
"Um... we wuz unner thuh glass place, chasin' goblins... ther wuz sum flyin' head things, an' sum weird monsters thet turned inta water when you hit 'um, an' uh flyin' invisible 'imp' ah think they called et, an' uh three-armed goblin."
He shrugs. "An' then his hair fell out."
"One of the flying heads paralyzed me and stuck its tongue down my throat," grimacing at the memory.
Pirknok looks over at Ventus. "Eww!"
Zantus frowns and shakes his head.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about but it sounds quite frightening. I can confirm that you're infected with something but beyond that I'm not certain. I'd suggest checking with some of the learned men at the bookstore in the morning and perhaps getting yourself to one of the hospices that are still open in the meantime."
The priest puts a hand on Pirknok's shoulder and whispers to him briefly.
The dwarf nods soberly. "Come on, Ventus. We kin go ta thuh hospice whar ah bin stayin', an' then ta thuh... bookstore... soon ez et's open."
"Okay," Ventus says and hands the dwarf his sword.
Pirknok leads the way to the hospice, watching Ventus with concern. When they arrive, he explains the situation nervously (while trying to make sure he's not overheard by anyone but the head nurse) and asks if they can help or know of a place that could.
An obviously very tired and cranky old man answers the door.
"What now?!", he grumbles loudly.
"Pirknok? What is it? If it involves Thassilonian ruins and ancient runewells, I assure you it can wait until morning."
The Shoanti dwarf looks somewhat abashed, and shakes his head. "Et's... et's my friend. He's real sick, an' thuh priest cudn't help him, an' ah'm real worried, an' he got... kissed... by uh flyin' head thing, an' all his hair fell out, an' yer thuh only person ah know who's real smart an' kin help. Please?"
He takes a deep breath after his quicker-than-usual speech, clearly troubled.
The old man squints at the dwarf with frustration written across his features but stops to consider Pirknok's words.
"Flying head... Kissed... Hair falling out..."
He suddenly gets very pale.
"This could be very bad. I need to see for myself. Show him to me."
The scholar grabs a sash to tie around his nightgown, a cane, and then steps outside to follow Pirknok.
Pirknok leads the way very quickly back to the hospice, trying to hurry as much as possible while not going too fast for the older man to keep up.
The nurse in charge of the hospice waves you and the scholar in. Ventus is asleep in his bed and he does not look to have improved in a short time Pirknok's been away. His ears have stretched and flattened to resembled small wings and fleshy strands dangle from his chin not unlike tentacles.
Brodert studies the ranger for a moment before shaking his head.
"This is very bad. He's been kissed by a varguille, a very nasty type of outsider. He's infected and his body is being prepared to become one of them."
Pirknok frowns worriedly and looks at Brodert, his face holding a mixture of hope and desperation. "You kin save him, can't you?"
"I cannot. The infection needs magic to treat - I'm just a scholar. Of the magic users in Sandpoint I don't know if any of them are powerful enough to remove this disease."
"Daylight will slow the infection's progress but not cure it. I've heard tales that the Shoanti had ancient rites that they'd use to appeal to the spirits for aid in situations like this but you'd know more about that than I would. I'm sorry but all that I can suggest is that you make your friend comfortable until the end."
Pirknok sighs deeply, looking dejected. "Ah can't just... how long do we hev?"
"Hours... maybe upwards of a day if you get him into the light come sunrise."
The dwarf looks down and clenches both fists. "Ezint ther ennywun who kin help?" He speaks softly, but his voice starts to crack at 'anyone'.
"There might be a magic user powerful enough in Magnimar but you'd never get him there in time."
"Maybe some of your kin can help him. I'm not much for believing in helpful spirits but it couldn't hurt. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you something helpful."
Pirknok nods. "Ah never wuz much fer thet either, but ef et'll help him..." He sighs, and turns to stride away. Approaching the head nurse on duty, he tells her he's going to the barracks and to send for him if Ventus' condition changes at all. "Ah shud be back 'fore mornin', but ef not, ya gotta get him inta thuh sun."
Trying to stifle a yawn and ignore the weariness threatening to overwhelm him, he leaves to find Krojun.
Brodert explains some details to the nurse as Pirknok departs. Her eyes go wide and the woman covers her mouth to stifle a scream.
***
You find Krojun at the barracks coordinating with some other senior guardsman. Everyone looks as tired as you but there's no sign of stopping any time soon. The big Shoanti pauses the meeting when you approach.
He greets you in the shoanti tongue and then repeats in common for those present.
"What is it brother? I thought you'd be in a bed recovering after everything you and your friends saw down there."
Pirknok is so distraught he replies in Common, not even offering the traditional greeting of a tribesman to a Thundercaller.
"Et's Ventus. He's... he's gunna turn inta sumthin' bad an' Brodert sed only thuh spirits or sumwun in Mag... Maggimar kin help him. Ah dunno ennythin' uhbout thuh spirits, but... you do."
Krojun dismisses the guard he'd been meeting with.
"Calm down brother. Tell me, what's happened to Ventus. I just saw him a few hours ago. He looked fine."
**One long explanation later**
"Brodert was right to sent you my way but you ask no small thing. The rite that could save him is dangerous and not to taken lightly. The sheriff would be upset if he knew I was even considering it."
The dwarf's eyes meet those of the other Shoanti searchingly. "Ah... ah don't hev much ta offer, but... he's mah Brother."
The lieutenant closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
"Gather your friends and bring Ventus. Meet at the training yard an hour before dawn - it's then that the veil is thinnest. We will invoke Death and convince it to spare your friend."
The dwarf does as he's told, tracking everyone down and telling them to come to the training yard an hour before dawn. Afterward, he goes back to the hospice and stands, silent and impassive, as thoughts, memories, and imaginings of the future struggle against one another in his mind.
A few hours later, he stretches and wakes Ventus (or carries him if he doesn't wake up), and heads to the yard.
Doran pales at the news of Ventus' plight, and is quiet, frustrated and angry-looking as he follows Pirknok around the city looking for a cure. As soon as a course of action is determined, he returns to his room to pass out, finding only a fitful sleep awaiting him.
Early the next morning, the Bounty Hunter gears and arms himself, heading out to the training yard with a grim look on his face.
"Nnn, Pirknok? What're you doing? Tol' you to get an axe in case my head comes off. Lemme down, I can walk at least," Ventus says, coming to something approaching wakefulness as the dwarf carries him.
"Someone needs to be ready to kill me... I always wanted to fly but not like this."
The dwarf puts the ranger down, but stands ready to support him should he need it. Strangely enough, he looks like he's had a lot of stress and worry, and no sleep at all. His voice is tired, but determined. "We're gunna convince Death not ta kill ya. Wuz either thet or take ya ta Mag...Maggimar an' try ta fin' sumwun ta cure ya there... but they sed you prolly wudn't make thuh jerney."
Eli, looking unnaturally alert, arrives, his bandolier loaded again and ready for anything. He is bundled up against the pre-dawn cold, and watches Adventus apprehensively.
Ventus's teeth have grown into long sharp fangs by this point and his ears periodically twitch as if a wing in flight. During the trip to the training yard, the ranger hallucineates and mutters to himself.
Krojun is waiting for the party when it arrives. The lieutenant is not bearing the chain armor and tabard you're used to seeing him wear but instead he is bare-chested with brightly colored paint across his naked torso. A bundle of pungent herbs is laid across the training yard's brazier filling the square with a eye-wateringly strong smoke.
"What you're about to witness is a rite few outside the seven quahs have ever seen. It is an ancient and powerful ritual that tears down the veil that keeps the spirits hidden from mortal eyes for a moment. You must use this time to treat with death and win your friend's life back."
Pirknok looks nervous. "How?" he asks.
"You must speak with it - convince it of Adventus's worthiness - why he should live. Be respectful but firm. If it believes there to be merit to your claim, it will issue a challenge for your friend's life. One of you must act as champion and battle death."
The dwarf looks down at his own wounds and around at the wounds of his companions, then back up at Krojun. He speaks softly in Shoanti, pausing once to shudder.
Doran shifts his weight, pressing a foot into the ground and raising a clenched fist. "Ain't a one o' us 'at ain't comin' back!" he declares forcefully, fire in his eyes. "Do what ya must, Lieutenant! We'll 'andle th' res'!"