"I have no argument with debate." Tyrus smiles at his own pun, one he used often on his children. "Please don't approach further though, even as a sending. I have a duty to those who slumber here."
He nods "Speak on."
The man smiles and bows his head in assent. "Of course." He even takes a small step back before continuing. "My name is Kessla. May I know yours?"" "An honor and pleasure to meet you, Tyrus. It is perhaps not so surprising that we would run into each other here, of all places. It is not the purpose for which I came, but then fate does not greatly care about our own purposes, does it? Ahem. I am rambling, I apologize. I suppose I should get to the crux of the reason for this conversation. May I guess, Tyrus, that you currently find yourself seriously ill?"
Tyrus' heartbeast sped up, a heady mix of hope and fear.
How many stories had he heard where some hero had turned down a Faustian bargain? Could this be his?
"Thank you Kessla. I do, indeed, find myself ill. Damned disease eats away at my mind."
He carefully phrases his next sentence "Might you have a suggestion for a cure?"
"I think that I may. Without knowing more details, I would guess that I suffered from a similar ailment. A wasting disease. Slow, insidious. Treatable, but not curable. Devouring mind and body, as if... as if two bodies were attempting to use the same humours. Yes?"
Kessla takes a deep breath.
"Tyrus, I think you and I are brothers, of a sort. It is no mistake you are here in this cursed city. You have an interest in the art of necromancy, yes? But not just in its aspect of death. That is the layman's concept. True necromancy deals with death and life together. Their interplay. I see by your face that you understand exactly. Well, your cure and your destiny lie elsewhere, and I urge you to seek it immediately. I cannot tell you more of it just now. I must ask you to trust me when I say I suffered as you do now, and I found my cure in Kadesh. Go to the Kadeshi city of Laquar, where there is a great college of the healing arts. Tell them your ailments. This will set you on the road to renewed life."
Kessla closes his eyes for a moment, as if listening to something. "I should go now. I doubt that we shall meet in person for some time yet, though I am near enough right now. I have business here that I must finish, for the good of us both, and the rest of our family besides. Seek the College of Laquar, my brother. Seek your cure. I wish you well."
The figure thins, and fades to mist, like a dispersing illusion.
Tyrus sits, lost in thought for a moment as the figure fades away.
Tyrus gently wakes Luca and Dante. In truth the youngsters probably slept more out of boredom than true need for sleep.
"I have had a vision." he explains. "Potentially this could be a hallucination, or a trick - in either case someone else should be awake."
As she woke up, Luca muttered something about being all right if she had to stay up all night watching for scary things. For one thing, she had the resilience of youth. For two things, she'd apparently had quite a lot of practice at it...
"What?" Dante queried, still rubbing his eyes. He had no idea what Tyrus was talking about and didn't have the mental capacity now to figure it out.
"A vision." repeats Tyrus patiently. "I think we're okay. Just try to stay alert for the next little while, and I'll tell you about it."
The old man looked around carefully, then continued.
"There was a man. A wizard, I believe. Except that he appeared to be some kind of illusion. He knew of my illness. He claimed to have suffered from something similar, gave me a lead to it, and told me to go."
"He was polite, helpful. Nothing to alarm me, except that he appeared here. It is possible - more than just possible - that this might represent something trying to get through out defences."
"I'll say," Dante says in agreement. "We already had something try to invade our minds more than once. Stands to reason they might have gotten something out of it." Dante thinks on it a moment with his hand on his chin. "As long as we don't respond to these offers they shouldn't hold any sway over us. You didn't agree to anything did you?" he asks.
Luca glanced over at Dante's question. Tyrus was probably more experienced than that, being far more experienced than she was... but you could never be too sure when some kind of mental influences might be directing you. She knew all too well what that was like.
"There wasn't much to agree to. It suggested I leave here and go to a particular college of healers. All in all, quite reasonable."
Tyrus looks doubtful "I suppose that reasonableness might have been a tactic to cause me to leave, but I'm hardly going to abandon this rescue mission in the middle. If nothing else I need to acquire sufficient funds to actually get to this college of healers, let alone convince them to treat me."
Tyrus is keeping something back.
Luca tilted her head slightly. "Do you want to go somewhere like that?" she asked the older man, a little curious. Wizards weren't usually known to be healers, although rumor had it there were certain... things... they could do.
"It... makes sense" Tyrus admitted. "Gods know I thought someone must have had my condition before and been driven to research it. It is completely feasible this college might have the cure."
Dante wasn't normally one to pry but this seemed like a very suspicious magical message. And Tyrus seemed to be hiding something about it. "Is that all it suggested?" he tries to keep his voice more neutral and curious than accusatory.
"Yes, that's all it suggested. It did give me a clue as to what might be causing my issues, but I cannot see how to leverage that at the moment."
"I suggest we stay up for a while, then keep watches two at a time. Not like we won't have time to rest anyway."
"I'm awake now - I'll take the first watch." Luca volunteered. She could sleep more later - and would probably feel better in the morning that way.
You steal back to sleep without waking Georgi, and the rest of the night passes without incident. In the morning as you break your fast, the guide speaks around a mouthful of dried sausage.
"Well, I gotta ask. If we go back and find that thing is still there, what then? Are you folks dead set on trying to get through? I want to find out what happened to Oznat 'n his boys as much as anyone, but it's no use getting ourselves killed in the doing."
"...I'm just with them, really." Luca noted quietly. She wasn't old or experienced enough to be off on her own yet - not really. Dante and Tyrus were basically the only people she had even a glimmer of hope might be trustworthy - and since she couldn't go anywhere else, she wanted to help them as much as she could, if only so she wouldn't get kicked out again.
"Not dead set, no. It would be good to know, of course, but I underestimated just how dangerous this place was. Having come so far, it would be a shame to turn back empty handed. I know we promised you a leader's share, but at the moment that's a leader's share of nothing."
"I feel the same. Might as well push as far as we reasonably can."
Georgi nods. "Well, we'd best see if it's still there, then."
Unfortunately, when you arrive at the intersection once more, the ghostly mob remains. However, the scene has changed. Instead of the placid street full of calm - though mangled - figures, now there is chaos. The illusory crowd is running about, panicking, and many cowering. Every now and again once will be stricken and fall as if receiving a wound.
Through it all you can see, once more, the central, unmoving figure, the Morbid Dreamer, standing at the center of the square, still with its back to you.
"After you," Dante says, waving Tyrus forward.
As she usually did, Luca stayed towards the back of the group - both to keep an eye out for ambushes and be ready to run if things turned too bad for them to handle.
Tyrus gestured and spoke a word. The area far ahead of them slowly started to fill with mist, mercifully hiding the carnage on the street.
A moment later he repeated the action, and the mist grew.
Tyrus gestured and spoke a word. The area far ahead of them slowly started to fill with mist, mercifully hiding the carnage on the street.
A moment later he repeated the action, and the mist grew.
Dante coalesces the water vapor in the air around him in the indicated areas.
Confident from his tests that the idea would work, Tyrus poured the cup of Torble onto his outstretched palm, gestured, spoke a word and seemed to accelerate.
Stepping forward he spoke - whispered - another word and mist sprung up around them.
A thick, cloying white mist. A white blanket of nothingness dense enough that even seeing their own feet was a challenge for the small party.
"Here we go" whispered the old man.
Tyrus's mist seeps out from beneath his feet in a billowing cloud, obscuring your vision. You keep near each other to prevent getting lost as you move forward in a group.
Tyrus crept through the mist, doing his best to cast in a whisper.
Dante creeps silently behind Tyrus, his hand pointed at the apparition and a spell on his lips. If it seemed aggressive he wanted to strike first.
Luca wasn't well-trained in the arts of stealth - something she was going to have to remedy at some point, given the terrifying situations she kept finding herself in - but she managed to get by with only the occasional faint scuff of her shoes on the ground. Her mouth was closed tightly the whole time, too, and she was breathing through her nose as infrequently as possible.
Tyrus intones another spell, his voice carrying dangerously even through the mist, and the party continues forward. Occasionally one of the ghostly figures will move close enough through the mist for you to see, an even more eerie sight than seeing them in a crowd.
Nothing seems out of place - it seems the Dreamer continues to dream.
You continue to make your way through the mist, with nary a change in the phantasms that occasionally appear nearby. But without being able to clearly see even the ground at their feet, Luca and Dante do not notice the ruins of a market cart - holding ancient, corroded tinware. They stumble into it, and despite their quick recovery, several plates and pots clatter and roll along the cracked flagstones.
Around you, the few illusions you can see flicker, then fade from view. A low moaning starts ringing in the air around you, tortured and otherworldly. It rises in volume until it becomes a half-screaming ululation.
Georgi's voice comes from somewhere in the mist just behind you.
"S@~*."
Init Order:
Georgi
Tyrus
Dreamer*
Dante
Luca
The few illusory figures you could see suddenly fade from view. The Dreamer has awoken.
"Run?"
"Run!" agreed Tyrus, grabbing at his companions and pulling them directly away from the creature.
When both of them said it, Luca didn't need to be told a third time. She simply whirled around and started moving as fast as her legs would carry her, not bothering to stick around and see what the creature might have wanted.