"Unfortunately, I am a junior chirurgeon," Hareton says. "While I can help with wounds from the arrow trap, those other skills are beyond the scope of my practice.
Quinn moves into an alcove and pulls out a backpack and two extra quivers saying to the group,"Well....you heard Short-Stack....let's get out of here. You guys need resting."
Quinn moves down a path which will lead the group to Hergelund's hiding spot."If Hergelund is OK with showing you his living arrangements then it's ok with me. Please....for his safety...let's keep this amongst ourselves. You do not want to see this dwarf go beyond paranoid." The monk moves forward and every 10 feet stops to make sure that everyone is following and no one gets lost.
"I should be more confident about myself," Hareton exclaims. "I can probably make those infusions. It's just that I'm nervous without all my usual lab equipment. But I have enough with me. I think I can do it."
He gathers his possessions and follows Quinn.
Hergelund digs from his pocket a small device with a button on one end. He presses the button. You hear clinks, clanks, metal hasps coming unlatched, and the sound of hydraulic decompression. Some of it near, some of it farther along down the sewers.
"There," he says. "It will take you nigh but ten minutes to get to the rest place. I disarmed all the traps for ye. They'll reset after ten."
"After ye rest, I'll do this again just long enough ye can get the rest of the way through the sewers."
"On yer way."
The journey to the resting place is uneventful. The party conversed along the way regarding the things that Hergelund had told them. Thanks to Quinn's familiarity with the sewers (due to his previous dealings with Hergelund), the party reaches the dwarf's quarters in no time. It ends up being an alcove much like the first one, but a little larger in size. Blankets lay strewn on the ground. They are dirty and thin. It will be a cold, claustrophobic, shallow rest, but still...it is better than nothing.
Hareton sets to work mixing an infusion for Ianez. When he finishes, he pours the brew into a flask and hands it to his ailing friend. The medicine is tepid and a bright emerald green color.
"Drink this," he says to Ianez. "It's an unfusion of Remove Disease. I caution, however, it tastes bitter and strong. It will probably cause you to vomit."
He creates infusions of Lesser Restoration and hands them out to the members of the party.
"Thank you, my friend." La Siréene gratefully accepts the infusion and immediately consumes it, the vile wounds on her neck reforming into healthy skin. She leans forward and hugs Hareton.
"Wake me up if something gets past the traps."
With that, she picks up a blanket and rolls up into a ball with it over her in a corner of the alcove, invisible underneath it. She falls asleep almost instantly, completely undisturbed by the cold, tight space.
The color returns to Blackacre's face in a noticeable wave. Thank you, doctor. This is most helpful.
It has been a while since I thanked so many in such a little time. Times have been grim, and the scene above is worse, but this company may prove quite useful.
Master Quinn, should we succeed in returning this town to order, I would very much like to discuss this "Special Investigations" group you mentioned. I may have some skills that would be of use to you and your colleagues.
He moves as close to a corner as possible, leaning up against the wall and facing the entrance. He places his loaded pistol next to him, covers with one of the grimy blankets, and slowly nods off.
"Excellent good Doctor. Do you have any spares? There is a good possibility that we may need those infusions in the future.
The monk watches the young Lady La Sireene drop down in her makeshift bed. "Fast asleep like a child"
Quinn then places his belongs within the room, close to the entrance of the Alcove. He drops down into a lotus position facing the entrance of the alcove and his back to the room."Please....don't be shy. All of you rest. I will keep watch. I only ask that someone takes over for me during the middle of the watch for 2 hours, then I can continue the watch.
Hareton replies to Quinn. "I figured as much. I made extra ones."
Sandru sleeps now. Tomorrow is another day, yes?
I walk over to near where the girl lay curled up. She needs no watching over, but it's instinct.
I don't take my armor off. It will be uncomfortable, but safer. I would rather be sleeping in the rain than this sewer. But, not tonight.
Half-sitting against the wall, I close my eyes. Sword in hand, shield and backpack within reach.
"Sir, this unit requires neither food, sleep or rest. I am happy to remain on guard the entire night if you wish."
"Doctor, if it is lab equipment you need you are welcome to borrow some of mine."
Caromarc asks for a list of the doctor's requirements, then uses his Mystic All Tools Vest to provide them.
"Well fellows. While I'm used to slightly better quality accommodation I put up with a damned sight worse during the war. I think we'd be better off not making a fire - the smoke could kill us in a place like this - but if someone has a magical way of making heat it'd be most welcome"
Caromarc casts False Life, Resist Energy (Cold) and Clairvoyance on himself, and an extended Magic Circle against Evil on the group, then drifts off to sleep protected and warm.
Ianez takes the flask gratefully, sweat pouring from his brow and fever-smell rank on his breath. "I fear, Doctor, that I am coming to crave a thing that makes me want to vomit even to think on it. If this works, I will welcome it whatever it tastes like."
Quinn looks up at the Mechanical Servant with wonder. "I know not what kind of creature you are but your offer of help will be most appreciated. I will stay up for a short while then I will rest. I only ask that you wake me up after 2 hours".
Hareton replied to the wizard, "Why thank you, Lord Caromarc. I gladly accept your offer." Then, he mixed the aforementioned infusions.
Once Ianez drinks the medicine, he violently heaves and vomits up the zombie rot.
________________________________
And now, Hareton takes back the flask. The sickness leaves the archaeologist's body. It hits the ground and oozes its way back into the flask, the part that is Infusion of Remove Disease drawn back to the remainder of the substance left in the flask, the same stuff that makes up its constitutional matrix. Globules of oily grey slime lurch across the floor. Even to the doctor's trained eye, it is a weird, aberrant blasphemy. It climbs the sides of the flask and swirls with the dregs of emerald green liquid. The whole concoction sullies to black.
The doctor, who was holding his breath, exhales in relief. "It worked."
"I'll stay awake with him a while longer." He lays Ianez down on his back. He takes out a handkerchief and wipes the perspiration from his brow. "His body has undergone trauma. I'll monitor his vital signs and make sure he's okay, that everything returns to normal."
It is only later, when Ianez slumbers, that Hareton...used to pulling all-night shifts at the hospital...pulls a blanket over himself as well and finally drifts off to sleep. It is a fitful sleep wracked by nightmares. He kicks out and whimpers. Several times, he sits up in a panic, throws the blanket off, and cries...
OLIVIAAAAA!
But he is only dreaming. Lost in tortured emotions. Before long, again he turns to the wall. He pulls his knees against his chest and sobs himself to sleep.
While the others sleep, and before it is time for Quinn to wake, the Mechanical servant slowly approaches Dr Hareton.
He approaches the sobbing man quietly, diffidently - but more in the way of someone afraid of getting caught than his normal servile diffidence.
A cold mechanical hand lays itself on Hareton's shoulder.
"There, there, Doctor - you did everything you could, sleep peacefully now."
The construct keeps a reassuring hand on the Doctor, gently patting him like a parent might pat a restless child.
Hareton's sadness blurs into something vague, a more generalized fatigue. He sleeps as per the construct's instruction.
Ianez feels a tearing sensation throughout his entire being as the tendrils of infection that have come to pervade him are uprooted and pulled out. On a level below the conscious he clings to the disease---This is all I have left of them! I should die as they died!--but the magic of Grey's infusion is too strong. Every least trace of the rot is drawn into the brew, and the doctor's skill is made manifest again as the infusion's emetic properties force the reluctant patient to vomit up the nauseating blend. The archaeologist nearly vomits again at the sensation of the last traces in his mouth and throat crawling out to rejoin the bulk where it lies in front of him. He gasps, "A bitter...brew...indeed, Doctor. My compliments...and my thanks."
He does not resist when the chirurgeon lays him down, one thought running through his mind as he falls into a deep, healing sleep. Farewell, Iozef,...Amelie,...Therez.... You will be avenged....
Hareton stirs. His muscles feel cramped and achey from the cold, but he's as rested as he's going to get while in the sewer hideout. The others still sleep. He notices the mechanical keeping watch at the edge of the alcove. He pulls on his coat and scuttles over to the half-elf.
"Psst! Mr. Quinn. Quinn, sir. We should be continuing on our journey? I expect you will guide us a little longer? I will help wake the others so we can set forth."
Perception , roused from sleep?
I nearly hear myself snore. Shifting to a more comfortable position, no drool... Zzzz...
Ianez returns to consciousness suddenly, at first startled by his surroundings. I don't remember this dig site...oh! Then fragmented memories from the headlong flight come crashing back, and with them resolve. He stands up with only a few popping and cracking joints and looks around for something to eat. Something bland; my gut is still in knots. I'll have to tell the doctor the craving is gone, though.
I open my eyes a bit after hearing small noises a few times. The 'jack rabbit' doctor, trying to speak with the policeman. The old man... nightmares.
He probably needs some broth and a piece of bread to refill his belly. I wish I had it to give him, but I don't. I should be more thoughtful.
I look next to me, at the girl... I do not think she is a fish. Hard to tell with the blanket covering her.
Caromarc... he means well.
Blackacre... backache, after tonight for sure. I laugh to myself.
They are all uneasy, used to stuffed mattresses and fluffy pillows. Or at least a bedroll when they traveled. Not me, for years I slept on a cold stone floor. It was cleaner than this, a little. Not good memories... I try to let them go.
If they need Sandru, they know where he is... I close my eyes, but do not sleep. The scarecrow...
Nameless stirs, sliding slowly from sleep to a state of consciousness, returning to the shape of La Siréene as he wakes. Stone floors. The Sewers. Hareton, Sandru, Caromarc, Ianez, Gaston, Quinn. They treat me as an ally. Yesterday’s monsters. Her fingers are drawn to her neck, feeling the patch of skin which had been flayed not long ago. Doctor Hareton Grey - a useful man.
La Siréene sits up, letting the blanket fall off her, to find Sandru sitting next to her. This pleased her. La Siréene found that she rather liked this creature.
She leans to Sandru, whispers in his ear. "Good morning, Sandru. I need an hour’s meditation."
With this, she picks out her ink set and paper, opens the vial and dips the pen in the blackness, crouches into a sitting position with her writing equipment in her lap, her eyes closed, contemplating the world outside her body as she makes pictures of her thoughts and memories.
Without opening my eyes... You will not be disturbed.
The archaeologist takes one of Grey's lesser restoration infusions and drinks it down before he meditates for the day and eats.
At the designated time the Mechanical Manservant awakens Earl Caromarc in much the same way he awakened Quinn.
Slowly stretching and yawning, Caromarc winds, maintains, repairs and recasts his various mechanism and enchantments. While his manual is out it is obvious this is a man who does these things often. Once his mechanisms and enchantments are prepared he engages in strange stretches, meditations and chants.
First Level Spells: Charm Person, Ant Haul, Summon Minor Ally, Faerie Fire, Obscuring Mist, Longstrider
Second Level Spells: Persistent Charm Person, Barkskin, Spider Climb, Flaming Sphere, Flaming Sphere, Resist Energy
Third Level Spells: Suggestion, Aqueous Orb, Sky Swim, Stone Shape, Summon Nature's Ally III
La Siréene opens her eyes, trance over. She returns the inkset and her sketches to her pack, taking out her rod, using it cast two spells she will need today.
Mindful of the lack of privacy, she conjures some water to wash of her face, arms and hair.
"There. Pardon, Ianez, but I did not bring any rations. May I have some of yours?"
After hearing Dr. Grey saying his name Quinn begins to open his eyes from his meditative/trance like sleep. He looks at everyone slowly awakening, then he whispers to Dr. Grey. "Looks like everyone is slowly waking up. Let's give them time before we head out."
Quinn then kneels to his back pack and remove a packet of trail rations and hands one meal over to La Sireene. "Here you go young lady. I usually carry a couple of MREs for whomever I find in the street. Usually it's a homeless person, beaten prostitute, or sometimes a kid trying to run away from abusive alcoholic parents. Please eat up. We are going to need your strength. The monk then leaves the druidess alone to continue her work.
Ianez produces a rather flattened-looking parcel from his backpack. "My rations are somewhat the worse for wear; I always carry some with me on long trips, because one never knows what they'll serve on the road. This time the food on the train was adequate, so mine ended up on the bottom of the pack. At least the bread was already flat!"
Here, I have fresh water. Drink as much as you need. I offer the girl my waterskin.
Smiling a grateful smile, La Siréene accepts Ianez's rations and Sandru's waterskin, politely dismissing Quinn's pack with a wave of her hand.
"Thanks, misters Ianez, Quinn, Sandru. It’s appreciated."
She consumes the rations, unimpressive but adequate, and drinks her fill from the waterskin. When content, she refills the waterskin with conjured water and hands it back to Sandru.
Quinn places the dismissed trail rations back in his backpack. He then begins to gather all of his belongs and straps the backpack and his quivers. "Let's start getting ready. I'd like for us to be ready before 'Short-Stack' gets back. He's gonna deactivate the traps once more so we can get out of here."
Sandru goes first.
I make no move, except to take back the waterskin. I travel light.
Quinn moves over to the front of the line. "Sorry....what does everyone call you???? Sandy is it? I would love for the big strong guy to take point but you don't know where you're going. You can stick behind me."
The monk leads the party to what seems to be the beginning of a dark endless tunnnel, and being that this is the sewers, it stinks too. One can not tell the difference between the odors. Where does the stink of garbage begin and where does it end. The smell of feces and decay is noticeable as Quinn leads the group to the beginning of the tunnel."OK new friends.... this is where the strong continue forth and the weak goes back to the alcove to take a nap. There is a trench in the middle of the path filled with about 3 to 6 inches of the most disgusting water you can imagine. Don't step in it else your foot will stink for a week. The sides of the trench are wide enough for us to walk along. I suggest for someone to pick up the rear."
Quinn takes out an arrow from one of his quivers. He grabs his necklace, that looks like a bow and arrow, and begins to chant some words. The tip of the arrow begins to light up.
Quinn continues his monalogue. "The tunnel is about a quarter mile long. Our destination at the end is Gaslight Deeptrain Platform: Fenrir Stop. From there we will head to Lamp Stop. Any questions?"
Before anyone can answer, Quinn turns his ear towards the tunnel and says,"OK....'Short-Stack' deactivated the traps. We got 10 minutes before they activate. Let's move."
Quinn begins to walk on the right side of the trench.
The Earl sighs, mutters a few words to activate the first of his mystic protections, hooks the mystical energy feed into the arcane generator in his enchanted walking stick, and starts.
1760 yards to a mile. 440 to a quarter mile. Two yards every three seconds. 11 minutes. Come on old man, you can do 11 minutes
"With respect master Quinn. Given that this unit is both the slowest and the most expendable, perhaps I should take the rear. I will endeavour to give warning if I am destroyed."
Hareton's nostrils flare as he summons his resolve. "Right then. Let's do this." He follows after along the right side of the trench.
I speak to the talking machine. Nooo... You stay in middle with Caromarc, Ianez and Doctor. Girl or Acre come with me in back. Other one go with policeman. Tell him Caromarc.
I take up the rear.
While La Siréene is amused to be referred to as "Girl", she passes no comment, matching pace slightly ahead of Sandru at the back of the group.
Caromarc relays Sandru's instructions
Thankful for Caromarc's assistance, I drop my shield into position and take out my sword. If it is a sword, why do they say it 'cut-less'? People are strange.
My eyes and ears sharpen, everyone just white noise like Caromarc says... I ignore that noise. This is my gift... I watch and listen, turning to check behind us.
About half way through the sewer tunnel Quinn is forced to duck low, due to the decrease in ceiling height. It is not a crawl, but more of a hunched over, side stepping motion. While traversing through the tunnel the Monk continues to talk about the current situation.
"Funny thing...these sewers. I was new to the position...came to work for the department after my stint in the militia. I was investigating a missing person's report....couldn't fine her up on top....I'm referring to the streets. I had a feeling to search the sewers just on a wild hunch. Found the body too....and found Hergelund down here. He was way more jumpy and paranoid back then. The body was in bad shape....the rats disfigured the body and reuined all the evidence."
"Oh by the way....did I tell you guys that there are rats down here." Quinn shrugs his shoulders. "Opps.... sorry for not mentioning it. Just follow one rule with the rats.... Don't bother them and they won't bother you."
Quinn continues talking getting back to the discussion, "Well, that was the start of our relationship. Herge became a friend and contact, let's me know whats going on and I ....well do the dirty work."
There is a long pause as Quinn erects himself up back to a normal upright posture and then he whispers "Seems like there are a lot more bad things happening these days."
The time passes by fairly quickly, seems like Quinn's talking made the time go quicker, and the group exits the tunnel. "Here we go folks....Gaslight Deeptrain Platform: Fenrir Stop."
Just before the station Caromarc stops, and turns back, causing his companions trouble in bypassing him.
"Elspeth?" he calls into the darkness.
Pushing his way past Sandru and La Siréene he accelerates into the darkness, then stumbles, almost falling into the "water" in the bottom of the trench.
Reaching up into a large, broken pipe that feeds into the sewer he reaches in and pulls something out, casting a spell as he does.
Casting Alter Self
Somehow, impossibly, out of a nine inch pipe he pulls a woman in a veiled and clean noble's lady's outfit.
"Elspeth! It is you! I thought you were looking for me!"
Blackacre takes up a position on Quinn's six, pistol out and loaded, sword loose in its sheath.
Do all police talk so much in this city?
When Caromarc stops, Blackacre slows his pace and keeps an eye on him. Gaston creeps along behind the wizard on the other side of the trench, watching out for any dangers that might erupt from the dark. At the sight of a man pulling a woman out of a drain pipe, he gapes, but quickly composes himself.
Wonders never cease with this one. I shall have to keep an eye on him.
Hareton applauds and laughs nervously. "Top drawer, Caromarc! Quite better than a rabbit out of a hat."
"That was a trick, wasn't it?"