”My zhanks, Shaeda,” Ziranu says, noting his wounds ease significantly. ”I zhink your goddess might razher sting at times, but I appreciate zhe pragmatism.”
The ranger helps gather the recovered gear and evidence, taking advantage of his haversack’s magics, and then gathers his three surviving arrows, nocking two of them upon his longbow as he assesses the southern extent of the scorched chamber.
”Let us learn what zhese keys are keeping from us, beyond zhe door to zhe south…”
The door opens to a makeshift prison, made by dividing a once larger room via some new flagstone walls into eight cells with corrugated iron doors and a corridor down the middle of the room.
Five of the cells are occupied, three are empty. As you saw three people being used as lab rats, that adds up. The five in these cells (all human and seemingly Varisian) are still alive; poorly treated and somewhat malnourished, but otherwise intact. Physically anyway, they scarcely look up when Ziranu enters. No rattling the bars, shouting threats, or spitting at the "doctor" for these people, they've seen too much.
Shaeda scowls at the site of the prisoners, "Ohhhh, vengeance shall be wrought on their behalf, I tell you. Let's get their names quick, and give them some hope."
There are three men named Zandu and Viorec Triviani and Eugeni Carsi, and two women named Alica Dretha and Jalla Zorri.
Their stories are nothing unexpected. Two were simply waylaid and kidnapped off the street, one came in for testing afraid that a simple cold might be the onset of Blood Veil, one had something put in her drink and woke up here, and one noticed their seeming immunity and actually volunteered for testing in the hope of helping the city.
In each case they've been imprisoned for several days, fed just enough to stay conscious, threatened and prodded, and the three who were taken from their cells were heard screaming until they...weren't. They'd all but given up any hope of rescue.
They can walk, but are unsteady and in no shape to fight.
Shaeda will share her rations and water with the poor unfortunates, and let them know that the Favored Sting is here to save them and wreak vengeance on their behalf.
Shaeda's charity is very much appreciated. One of the women, Jalla swears she will repay you one day.
"As She tells us in Blood for Wine, 'righteous vengeance is payment enough, both for the wicked, and the weary.' You need not reward me any more than this, that you thank Calistria for sending us to free you and tear the souls from those who did this to you."
"Shaeda, I see you have tended to the new comer. Do you have any more healing?"
"This place needs to be shut down from top to bottom! Please, take the time to report your condition to the authorities once you have escaped this place."
Shaeda taps Tronar with the CMW wand.
Ziranu looks over the Varisian prisoners, searching for a face among them, then lowers his head in sad resignation. He finally approaches them while removing his plague mask and wide-brimmed hat, then speaks to them with the Varisian tongue in a low voice...
<“You know by zhe halfling’s words zhat you are rescued, zhat zhis is a disguise. Zhat said, you also clearly know zhere is a far greater evil here zhan zhe false doctors or even zhe Blood Veil itself. Our mission now must be zhe destruction of zhe deepest zhreat. Take rest, and let us arm and disguise you as well, for now. Zhere is a chamber near where zhere are more of zhese robes, and far better refuge. Zhank zhe halfling’s strangely kind heart as much as her goddess, and zhen zhe goddess of our wandering peoples for zhe luck zhat brought us here and made zhis rescue - and hopefully zhe victory ahead - possible...>”
The prisoners thank Ziranu and the rest of you for your aid, and head to the room with the beds and robes to recover until they feel confident to sneak out of the Hospice in disguise.
Once the former Varisian prisoners are disguised, armed, and comparatively secure within the quarters of the false doctors and cultists, Ziranu runs through the readiness of his gear as he considers the mission.
"By zhe map we have zhus far made of zhis foul place, it seems zhat the doors to zhe east of zhe undead "art" chamber hold zhe pazh ahead for us, to zhis Lady Andaisin zhat Rolzh spoke of. What do you know of her?" Ziranu asks of his companions.
Tronar calls upon his arcane abilities and seems to hold a fire bead in his hand that absorbs into his body.
"I don't know much about her except that if this building is her doing, she should surely be put to the sword, arrow, or fire".
I agree! Sounds like this Lady Andaisin needs a punch in the nose! Searok offers.
"If we get our hands on her, do we intend to kill her, turn her in, interrogate her, interrogate her harshly, or some combination of the above?"
"I for one do not need to interrogate her. and I'm all out of lashes to bring her back alive." Tronar winks at Shaeda.
Shaeda nods, "still, let's go for the interrogation. Maybe we can find out who might be funding the operation."
"Agreed?"
"I'm not making any promises because I cannot cast non-lethal fireballs."
Through the next door, the stinging scent of harsh chemicals chokes this high-ceilinged chamber. Three huge metal vats bubble here, each more than six feet tall. A sturdy series of catwalks ten feet off the ground stretches over and around the vats, allowing those above to attend whatever slurry produces the foul green-brown mist emanating from each gigantic vessel. Circling the upper portion of the room is an elaborate mosaic of white, black, and green stone that depicts a giant half-skeletal woman in black veils dancing among fields of the dead, undead, and dying.
”I cannot make zhe promise, eizher, Shaeda,” Ziranu reluctantly replies at last. ”Zhe evils done to zhese Varisians and zhis city, corrupt as it is, zhat she clearly knows of by Rolzh’s own words, are too great. And it would also seem zhat zhe vile hand of zhe goddess of disease and undeath guides zhis horror, wizh her cultists revealed. Let us give zhem a reunion in deazh...”
No sign of traps within the room.
"Suggest we follow the right wall around. Check each door but move quickly to the far wall for our prey."
Sneaking around the perimeter of the room, you find that the two doors to the south are unlocked and a few moments pause at each one gives no indication of any dangers beyond. Upon opening them, one is a storage room with a few barrels of water, piles of kindling, and long stirring rods. The second contains coal.
Along the eastern wall, there are two heavy doors which seem to lead into the same room, as the same flickering greenish light can be seen under the cracks. A rhythmic pounding sound can be heard on the other side.
The door to the north has an actual voice behind it. One low and arrogant, with some undefinable accent.
"And how are we feeling today, young sir?...No fever, no flushing, no labored breathing, I see. The lady wants results, and you seem determined to disappoint her. It's nothing to me, you understand, I want out of here just as much as you. But for me the only exit is success, and for you death, so do us both a favor and try to be a little cooperative, yes? If it's any consolation, you won't die of sickness, no. Once I can prove the new strains work, I'll have no further use for you. A quick death, yes? Much preferable."
Shaeda whispers to Tronar, "don't fireball the patient eh?"
When everyone is ready, Searok will open and burst into the room.
"A moment...," Ziranu whispers. "Zhe low voice is surely zhat of no lady, is it? Zhe words it speaks sound as zhose of zhe false doctors, I zhink. And what of zhe strange accent? Do any recognize it, from anozher place, or as zhat of somezhing ozher zhan human?"
Ziranu settles his plague mask and wide-brimmed hat in place once again, widens his stance, and nocks two arrows on his longbow as he looks among his companions for answers...
It's an Ustalavian accent, but...weird. Modern people from Ustalav don't talk like that, the vowels sound right out of a historical play.
Since you got a 20, you can also know something of the history of Ustalav, which is mostly unpleasant. In 3203 AR it was conquered by the Whispering Tyrant, Tar-Baphon, who took power with armies of the undead. Although he was eventually defeated, something of his corruption remains on the land and it is widely viewed as a place of haunted castles and unquiet cemeteries to this day.
"I recognize it...that person is from Ustalav. and I'm sure they are influence from the time of Tar-Baphon who took power with armies of the undead given what we have seen transpired here."
"Yeah? So?"
I don't care where there from! They are still gonna get punched in the nose! Searok says as he opens the door.
An elegant operating table dominates the center of this grim laboratory. Crossed with iron restraints and encircled by a gore-encrusted gutter, the macabre device sports various cranks and levers, and is large enough to accommodate an ogre. Along the walls stand several tables strewn with all manner of alchemical accouterments. Their contents appear extremely old: rusted iron tools, beakers of purple glass, and deep pools of wax from countless melted candles.
Strapped to the table is a young man, Varisian in appearance like the other captives you've saved. Standing over him is a hairless, appallingly pale humanoid in dark robes. He has a scalpel in his yellow-nailed hand, and was about to cut into the young man's flesh when Searok opened the door, and looks up in surprise.
"Visitors? Perhaps we can have a civilized discussion, yes? It'll be the first I've had in weeks."
Shaeda points her whip at the man, "you betcha, glad to talk. Step away from the table, and by the Favored Sting, you have my word that we'll talk."
"Very well, I can assure you that this test subject is of value to me. His death gains me nothing, unless it happens under specific circumstances."
He steps back from the table. Holds onto the scalpel, but toys with it idly.
"Can I assume, from your presence here and some of the accoutrements you are wearing, that calling the guards would not avail me? Not without the aid of certain spells or a very loud voice, yes?"
"Perhaps introductions are in order. I am Ramoska Arkminos, from Varno County, Ustalav. And I have the pleasure of addressing...?"
"I am Shaeda, Whipmistress of Calistria, the point of the Sting itself," she makes a bow as she introduces herself, "As for my compatriots, perhaps you will understand if we do not introduce all of them at this time. You know how it is. Certain masters of the arcane arts could use their identities against them. I shall take the chance and trust in my Goddess to protect me."
Searok is all set to experiment on how many wacks from his warhammer will be needed to take the man's head clean off when Shaeda starts conversing with him! He figures Shaeda must have some plan so he holds back, tapping his foot impatiently waiting for the conversation to inevitable fail.
"A pleasure, Ms. Shaeda"
He gestures to the young man on the table, who appears semi-conscious at best.
"And this fine specimen is Ruan Mirukova, one of approximately 5% of Varisians who have thus far proven immune to Blood Veil, a fact which vexes Lady Andaisin. I apologize for his rudeness, but he's something of a bard, and I had to drug him to keep him quiet. Not that his magic music was much of a threat, I merely found it...annoyingly modern. Are madrigals really out of style? Stop paying attention for a mere century or two and everything changes."
"But I'm rambling, apologies, as I said I've lacked for good conversation. Anyways, I assume you are aware of Lady Andaisin, yes? She runs this place and created the plague. But it isn't as effective as she hoped, and she required help. My employer, Count Tiriac, heard of her difficulties and sent me to assist."
"Frankly, I'm bored to tears of the whole business. Not that time means much to me, but solving this conundrum could take months and the sooner I can return home and to my own work, the better. But orders are orders. Still, there are often multiple ways to follow them..."
"As payment for my services, the Lady promised my patron a certain item. It's a small metal coffer, decorated with skulls. If I acquire it, Count Tiriac won't much care how. I might have tried to take it by force myself by now, except tangling with clerics of the Pallid Princess is a risk for one of my...persuasion, yes? I could even offer you a bit of magical aid against the Lady, to improve your odds. And of course, I would no longer have any use for my test subject here, you may have him upon delivery. Intrigued?"
To show he means business, Ramoska draws a bronze headband out of his pocket, and holds it up for examination. It detects as magical.
Shaeda looks to Tronar, "please figure out what that item is."
She looks back at the creature, "what exactly is the thing you want?"
Knowledge (Religion) to identify him.
"It's called a Death's Head Coffer, and it was used to spread the plague, somehow. Several of them exist, I believe. My employer wants one because he doesn't trust the cult to never pull similar shenanigans in our neck of the woods, and he wishes me to study it."
"And so without this item, this plague here will dissolve away?"
"No, once it's out in the wild it's like any other disease. But I suppose the coffer couldn't be used to create any more vectors, even if they did develop an improved strain."
He makes this last statement with a shrug, as if he honestly hadn't put any thought into the matter until now.
Shaeda can't identify what he is, but she gets a bad feeling about it.
Tronar grimaces at Shaeda's initial offer for discussion and not attacking. but none the less he restrains and mumbles "If we let this one live then that means the Lady dies to maintain balance."
Tronar tries to identify the object held for inspection.
Cast Detect Magic and