It is unlikely that alliances are forged on a road and a mischance of meeting, but this one did. You can recall heading down a long and winding road through some mountains to a small town known as Duvik's Pass. The town itself is very small, but home to one of the richest silver minds in the world. Recently, however, the silver has stopped coming in and tales of an outbreak spread through taverns.
The Gods must have had a hand in your meeting.
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Mez travels down the road with a smile on his face. The long hours of walking do not seem to phase him, and even weighed down with blackened scale mail, large shield, and a full pack, he moves just as fast as someone out for a walk.
He nods to passer-byes, offering them Cayden Cailean's blessing on them and their travels. Frequently, he pulls a flask or waterskin from his person and quaffs a mouthful before returning it to its prior location.
As he passes down the road on the path to Duvik's Pass, Gennor lightly sings a song of his Varisian homeland and stops occasionally to catch his breath. Not for the first time he curses his poor constitution as he watches the other people on the road walk with seemingly no effort. Having caught his breath, he takes a cool drink of water from his waterskin and continues down the road to town.
>>At least there will be food and drink and hopefully lovely lasses in town,<< He thinks to himself.
Drogan marches down the path to Duvik's Pass with a measured step, occasionally looking around to note his surroundings but otherwise lost in thought. He wonders for a while what might await him in the town, then shakes his head slightly to clear his head of unpleasant thoughts, sets his shoulders straighter, and moves forward with renewed determination.
Alika walks quietly, avoiding eye contacts - minding her own business.
She looks like typical varisian female with her dusky skin, violet eyes and long dark hair. She is wearing colourful clothes and scarfs above leather armor.
Greydon walks along the road with a with a slight frown on his face. He carefully watches the wildlife and the forestation as they come ever close to the town.
So tell me, my new traveling companions, what brings you out this way?
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”With the outbreak and the silver shortage, all manner of cut-throat and con artist will be flocking their trying to make a few gold. I am going to ensure the people are not forgotten or forced into slavery by would be saviors. Quite often someone will create a toxin, spread it around town, then seize control in the chaos and be viewed as a savior when they are the only ones who can fix the problem.” responds Mez, his usual smile disappearing as his blood boils at the thought of the deception.
"It could have been deliberately introduced, you mean? But that would mean... An interesting idea. Although my own thought would be that, if that's the case, it might have been done more to weaken the town's defenses as a precursor to an attack, rather than a ploy to gain fame. A cowardly tactic, but an effective one."
Drogan ponders this for a moment, before suddenly remembering that he is forgetting his manners.
"Might I ask your name, sir?"
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”Mez Masterson my good dwarf, but then again, where are my manners, as I should not be calling you by your race, but your name! I carry with me the favor of Cayden Cailean, and though I’m sure he’s not your patron of choice, few and far between are the dwarves who aren’t accepting of the Drunken Gods blessing.” Looking his new companion up and down, he adds, ”Though based on your clothes, you may be one of those. Rarely have I seen a dwarf travel without at least a few pieces of armor to protect his skin.”
"Drogan Thralldrin, at your service. I am a humble servant of Torag. I find armor far too restrictive for my tastes, and prefer to fight thusly, with the fists Torag has seen fit to bestow upon me. I am grateful for your blessing, and hope that Torag smiles upon you. Though I admit I don't know much about Cayden Cailean, or really any of the human gods."
"Well met then, I am Gennor- a humble minstrel whose wanderings brought him into the area, where I heard of this town's plight and thought my skills might be of some help to the locals- whether it be with healing or soothing the ailing with my songs."
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"Cayden Cailean was once a man just like you or me. An accomplished adventurer, he spent his days in taverns drinking and enjoying life, but don't think he was a complete fool. He had his ideals, and believed that no man should hold power over another, and even abandoned jobs and tasks that challenged those ideals. One night, a drunk friend challenged Cayden to the Test of the Starstone, a test only two others had passed. Well, an also inebriated Cayden accepted and entered the trial grounds that night. Three days later, he emerged, a god. He holds freedom and adventure in high regard, and opposes tyranny and oppression on principle." says Mez, in almost a rehearsed tone.
Showing the others his holy symbol, a tankard of ale, he continues, "Gennor, perhaps you can liven up this voyage." Pulling out a water skin, he takes a sip of an amber liquid before stowing it again.
"Well, bolstering spirits and providing aid are both important to me Mez, I just hope things are not so dire in this town as I have heard."
"I'm sorry, I never meant to imply that those things were not important to you as well Mez, I apologize if I choose my words poorly."
Gennor takes a sip from the offered flask.
Greydon gives a slight bow.
"I am Greydon Steadywind, a simple servant of nature and follower of Gozreh. I have heard rumors of this disease and wish to see what has caused it and try to relieve any suffering the disease may have inflicted."
Greydon then taps the mace on his hip "Also to act as an instrument of nature's wrath if needed"
Drogan nods to each of his new companions, then returns his gaze to the road. He keeps an eye out for other travelers, especially anyone heading in the opposite direction, away from the town, looking for an opportunity to gain more information.
Alika walks behind Mez listening his tales, Very inspiring story, she mumbles and nods.
Greydon falls in step with the rest of the group
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Looking around at the group as they walk along, Mez attempts to spark up a discussion, ”Well, it seems a number of us are going to be looking into this plague, perhaps we join forces? It would be more efficient that way.” Looking around to see if anyone agrees, Mez continues, ”Now, if we are going to be a team for this, we should probably know a bit about each other. I am a front line fighter with a touch of divine magics and I still remember a bit of my larcenous craft from my youth, before I found Cayden Cailean and began walking my true path. Now, who is next?”
Valymer listens to the other members of the group awhile before speaking. He's a tall elf with long dark hair and stern features. You see a long curved elvish sword across his back.
Well met, all. My name is Valymer Alariss. I heard about the plague, and came this way thinking there might be something interesting afoot, or perhaps something I could do to help. I'm a frontline warrior as well, though I have yet to dabble in any magic.
I can shoot with my bow, but I prefer sneaking and backstabbing with my knifes, Alika says, while performing small tricks with her knives.
Adjusting his kapenia and straightening his green vest with orange-peach hankerchef, Gennor beams at the others while watching Alika's knifeplay- as it reminds him of his more larcenous family members.
"I am, as I mentioned, a minstrel, a singer of songs and a dabbler in the arcane arts-shaping the world around me thorugh my songs. I am also versed in various fields of lore, have some small ability with rapier and short bow, can speak a few languages, and am good at dealing with people."
"I am but a simple servant of Gozreh and through him I am able to heal injury to both the land and people."
Greydon offers a friendly smile "In other words I like to keep you frontline types alive."
Drogan puts his right fist into his left hand.
"I punch things."
He strokes his long, brown beard as he continues.
"I have also learned a few wrestling tricks, and can hold people down pretty well. I was journeying in these parts, and thought it my duty to come and see if I could lend any aid. I am glad to have met others with like intent."
As the group continues on the town comes into view. It is a small town nestled in a valley. There are sevreal houses skewered around the entrance. The inn is easy to distinguish by the sign with a mug on it. In the center of town there is a well were water would usually be drawn from in front of it lies the Mayors house. The down seems oddly deserted as you walk about. What should normally be a busy town for mining silver and trading is almost like a ghost town. There are some guards standing around a man as the group enter the town.
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As the group enters, Mez looks around, trying to mentally note locations of buildings, and especially, the inn. "Well, I think I'd like to get myself a drink, maybe ask around at the inn about what's going on. Any of you are welcome to join me, especially you Alika" says Mez, giving a wink to the knifemaster. As he heads toward the inn, he gives the guards and the man a quick look to determine the nature of their gathering.
As Mez looks over he can hear the gurads murmuring.
This one seems to have it. Think we should take him to the healer to prevent spread. The taller of the two says.
We should but...I do not want to catch it. You have heard what it does to those that contract it.
Gennor looks nervously at the man, knowing as he does that his constitution was not strong enough to needlessly risk infection... He follows Mez towards the inn.
The guards look like a tall dark skinned man, slightly husky in build with a scruffy beard and dark beady eyes. It is hard to tell his hair color due to his helmate but he is clad in full plate with a spear in one hand. He is a human
The other is a smaller man who is larger around the belly area. He has a long red bread that is braided down his face and a scar across one of his eyes. Pretty easy to distinguish him from the other gurads since he is dwarven.
Greydon will walk over to the guards.
"Excuse me Gentlemen. My apologies but I couldn't help but over hear and I would like to offer my assistance. Please could you take me to this person and explain the symptoms? "
The guards look up Greydon, It starts up with a sore throat and a fever. It goes to coughing and their throat closing and then they usually cough up a sheer amount of blood as death hits them.
As the guard finishes explain the symptoms to Greydon the man begins to cough several times and wheeze. As the wheezing becomes more labored the man lets out one last cough before a large amount of blood escapes his mouth before he slumps over dead.
Greydon moves back
Drogan walks up to the Dwarven guard and greets him.
"Greetings, comrade. We have come to see if there is aid we can lend during these troubled times. I have a few questions I would like to ask. Perhaps we could speak in that tavern over a mug of ale? The dusty road does work up quite a thirst."
Greydon will offer and small prayer and close the dead man's eyes if they are still open.
"Gozreh. Please see this unfortunate soul to the great forest beyond and ease his journey into the afterlife"
Greydon will then do an examination on the body for any signs of injury like bite marks.
Greydon is able to see as he looks over the body that there is no sign of injuries. He was just a very very sick man who had been sick about 4 days or some of the disease. He can also tell that the man was nothing more than a local who probably worked in the mines.
The dwarven guard is a taken aback at the mans death but seeing it enough recently he is not that worried. Aye commrad I can answer what I can for you.
The other guard on the other had is beyond frightened. He backs off and looks as though he is going to catch the disease. There is no savior...we are doomed. He looks like he is about to take off running any second now.
fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Realizing that the panicking guard might flee at any moment and that he might therefore further the spread of the disease, Gennor raises his voice in song, gesturing as his hands blaze with eldritch force and, as he stops singing, he throws a pinch of wool towards the guard, which bursts into a cloud of sparkling dust that enshrouds the hystrical man.
Greydon coughs
"that's not good." Greydon takes a deep breath and forces himself to relax. He looks toward the guards.
'Do you know when the first case happened? Who and where?'
Drogan puts his head on the Dwarven guard's shoulder, avoiding looking too much at the corpse, and discreetly ignoring the other guard in his panicked state.
"Come, let us speak inside."
He leads him into the tavern and tries to find an empty table, where he will sit and order two mugs of Dwarven Stout. While he waits for the drinks, Drogan looks around the common room.
Did anyone else notice the well in front of the mayor's office. It's possible someone originally introduced the disease through the water supply. I'm going to avoid drinking anything here until I know it's safe.
Valymer opens his waterskin and takes a swig. He tries to get the attention of someone working at the inn. Could you tell us anything you know about the plague?
After seeing the man die, Alika follows Mez to the inn and sits next to him.
Alika nods to Valymer.
"Good guess Valymer, but cause could be natural as well. I have seen contaminated wells before... usually some kind of fungus or something."
The human guard finds himself a little light headed...
The Dwarven Guard leads the party down the block a ways to the Inn and Tavern.
The Inn and Tavern, the Leaky Cask, has a few people here and there, most of them keeping to themselves. There are a couple of men playing a card game. Almost all of the bar patrons have cloths over their mouths.
At the table, the Guard starts to speak. "My name is Tordek. I've been a guard here for a few years." He takes a drink of his Dwarven Stout. "I know not why you've come here, but the town is in desperate need of help."
"We have all come to render what assistance we can to the town- you mentioned a healer earlier, would the healer be able to tell us more about the disease itself?"