"From Sandpoint,"Teldon answers slowing his pace to converse with the driver for a few minutes...
With a broad smile, Zee rides next to the Varisian caravan, and returns the greeting, "Salutări, străin, de la un străin!"
Switching back to Taldane for the benefit of her friends, "Yes, we have traveled from Sandpoint. And how about yourselves? Where have your travels taken you?"
"From Sandpoint? It is a fine road through the hills ti the lake here... I pray that Desna smiled upon your journey as she did upon ours. We set out from Magnimar a month back but business was good at Nybor and at Wartle - good enough to put the memories of the City of Monuments behind us", the driver pointedly spits on the ground to the side of his wagon, "Accursed place..."
As dusk settles in, your group - travelling alongside the caravan - draws close to the impossibly illuminated town of Galduria... Warm amber lights hover high above the rooftops - seemingly unattached to anything and flitting in the gentle breeze...
Ziomarra - the Festival of Autumn Lights is a Galdurian tradition, held sometime during Rova each year, the festival is a time when the Twilight Academy (the slightly radical arcane seat of learning 'hosted' by this town) puts on a famed week of pyrotechnic display - some folk cynically suppose that the Academy is merely currying favour to ensure people don't question their other works - although most people ignore such talk and enjoy the festivities...
The driver, at Briana"s question, tells her that whilst the caravan was staying out Ordellia way in Magnimar, they lost one of their best troubadours, "Young Errol went out one night, as he was wont to do, and just disappeared from the streets - no-one heard nothing, saw nothing or would tell us nothing - course, we'd heard the stories of folks going missing but we'd just put it down to Sczarni business... City Watch didn't do nothing - said he'd probably run off with some lass". He takes a swig of a bottle of amber liquid, grimaces and offers it to Briana, "After a few days we started telling ourselves maybe he had run off - it was better than dwelling on the other possibilities, you know? Then, 'bout two weeks after he'd gone, he wanders back into the camp... Like he'd never been gone... Same clothes, clean and fed... But, no memory of the fortnight he was gone - nothing!!! Worse still, something happened to his sight... It was fine at first but there was a slow change - his eyes when cloudy in the sunlight... Poor lad's nocturnal now, he can see fine in the dark... Strangest bloody thing!"
By now the caravan, and yourselves, are making your way through increasingly crowded streets, "So, like I said, the city is cursed - we are headed up Riddleport way... See how life treats us up there"
"Say, you got lodgings tonight? Last time I was through here, the Hermit's Secret was a good bet... Although it may be booked out with the Festival"
"That's not the first time I've heard of something like that. Would you mind if I took a look at him? I don't think I can cure him, but I should be able to rule out a curse or something along those lines," Joanna asks the driver.
"There were a few other people who vanished and then reappeared recently in Magnimar," Teldon offers, "but most of them lost more than their memories... it sounds like your friend fared far better than most. I would also like to see him... perhaps there will be some symptom of his condition that provides a clue to its cause"
Replying to Teldon, ”Yeah, we’d heard later that some folk did come back… not all though – and none of them untouched by their experience”, pointing backwards at a wagon advertising ’Music of Many Lands’, the driver says, ”Errol rides in that wagon back there…tell ‘em Senor Poltacki says it’s okay”.
Slowing your pace such that the trailing wagon catches up and with Senor Poltacki from the leading wagon giving a positive ‘thumbs up‘ sign when your motives are questioned, the wagon is halted… and a lady shows you into a darkened cabin at the rear of the vehicle. As it is already dusky outside, your eyes adjust quickly and you see the young man in question, blindfold around his eyes, feeling his way around the fretboard of a stringed instrument, ”Who’s there? Is that you Isadora?” The lady accompanying you replies that it is indeed Isadora and that she has a couple of folk who may be able to help with his eyes…
Holding her holy symbol, Joanna calls upon Iomedae's grace and her eyes briefly glow gold and silver as she studies Errol.
Whilst the man impassively sits and waits - his hands still nervously picking away at the fretboard of his instrument - the Iomedaean uses her symbol to look for traces of evil…and detects nothing of note.
"Really? A human becoming nocturnal? Interesting..." I'm still new at this, but if I had to guess I'd say there was magic involved. What do you think? she asks the shard.
That is strange indeed.Let's hope he can be cured, or that his affliction will pass with time.
"Beats me, though there's not any linger aura of evil," Joanna says.
When Teldon's turn comes he gets much more hands on in his examination... Putting on his miner's lantern to ensure the best possible lighting, he checks the coloration of the man's lips, gums, and tongue, and the beds of his fingernails; then he carefully inspects the color and qualities of his actual eyeballs before asking for an in depth description of how things appear in the light and in the dark . He pulls out his journal and takes notes on all he finds.
Zee waits for some of her friends to exit the crowded wagon before entering herself.
"Salutări, străin, de la un străin! Eu sunt văzătorul Ziomarra. Lasă-mă să văd ce cărțile poate spune-mi ce sa întâmplat cu tine."
Zee draws a card and holds it over her left eye while she intones arcane words. Both the card and her free eye glow faintly with bluish light.
Teldon shares all the symptoms he observed with Briana while she conducts her own exam.
Briana / Teldon, - even though it is quite dark within the wagon, Errol winces as his blindfold is removed... revealing utterly colourless eyes - the iris, the pupils, everything... has been replaced by alabaster white orbs... yet, somehow he still sees. As Teldon asks him to count how many fingers are up, track movement and to focus over short distances, the afflicted man has few problems - but, when asked to distinguish colours, he fails at all of the set tasks bemoaning the fact that colours had started to seem washed out for the last fortnight and then, two days ago, everything became monochrome.
Moving the examination to a more physical investigation, Teldon doesn't see anything too unusual in the area around the eyes but then, feeling the man's skull - and the orbits around the eyes, he senses something unusual... There is a slight amount of 'give' within the bone, almost as if it is healing from some form of injury...
"Do you? Do you think you might be able to help me?"
Ziomarra - holding the card up to your eyes, you see a strong aura shining around the mans' head... almost halo-like in its' appearance, this man has very clearly been subjected to a powerful enchantment.
Nalathi looks up into the man's white eyes. "Errol?" she asks, looking smug. "Who's Atlatia?"
Errol looks confused for a moment, "Atlatia? I've never heard of an Atalatia in my whole... Oh...", suddenly his face drops... and, with a growing look of horror, "No!!! No!!! My eyes... Leave me alone... Leave me alone... LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" Sobbing tears of anguish, the bard clutches his face, "They took me... Little grey-skinned folk... White hair and blank eyes... And they took my.... Oh no!!! Oh, they took my eyes!!!"
Isadora holds the troubador tight as he collapses into her arms....
Ziomarra - the aura is fading from around the bard...
Looking on in horror as the man starts screaming and as the magic of his enchanted eyes begin to fade, Zee thinks about the man's words...
Little grey-skinned folk? White hair and blank eyes? Fascination with eyes...?
Zee places her hand over her mouth to suppress a scream. Trying to force her voice to be calm at this sudden horror, she says, "The creatures who did this to you... they used powerful magic on you."
"My friend, what happened to you is horrific. I don't know if we'll be able to help you, but you may have helped many others. There have been many disapperances in Magnimar, and now we have a real lead on what sort of creature is responsible for them. When we return there, we will hunt these things down."
Ziomarra - beyond any reasonable doubt, it would appear that Errol has 'survived' an encounter with the Derro. The enchantment aura that you detected is likely to have been a memory wipe or a modification of his recollections - as to what is causing the enchantment to now fail, you can't tell..
In their quest to gain a tolerance to the searing light of the sun, derros take apart their victims’ bodies with careful deliberation. Skilled at dissection, vivisection, and grafting, these miniature humanoids work in bizarre, unsanitary laboratories flooded with a strange blue glow. Once the derros have studied their test subjects’ glistening viscera, these devious maniacs modify their victims’ memories before stitching the poor wretches back together. The luckiest of these subjects forget their horrific experiences—save for deeply buried psychological traumas that emerge only during nightmares.
The weeping bard barely hears Ziomarra's kind words as he sobs into Isadora's shoulders - but the woman does manage a smile of gratitude towards the seer...
Teldon - sadly, there isn't much that you can do here... Whatever they did to his eyes, it would appear that the process is irreversible...
Joanna looks to Zee, her eyes troubled.
"Should we head back then? Is this really more important," she asks.
Teldon opens his mouth to frankly state that the effect is permanent... As the man weeps into his companion's shoulder he decides to attempt to be as delicate as he can...
"The derro," he begins tentatively, "that is, the creatures who did this to you... their experiments are physical, not magical... I'm sorry but this is not a spell that can be undone..."
He considers the possible applications of a variety of spells and compounds before offering, "if being nocturnal does not suit you I can think of only one cure and it would not be easy... or pleasant... You would need to track down a powerful Druid... They can learn a potent magic for regenerating body parts... If you had these eyes... removed... they could, I believe, regrow your normal eyes..."
Teldon fidgets while speaking and for a few moments afterwards, hoping that he hasn't unduly upset the man, or angered his companions...
Arsith looks really saddened at the poor man's fate.
Finally, the quiet white haired woman speaks
I'm not sure, and I don't want to give you false hope, but maybe a simpler spell would cure your blindness? I cannot do it myself, unfortunatly, but I've heard of people of faith able to restore sight, so maybe you won't have to get through such...
atrocities
extremities to be able to see again. I'd say it's worth trying, don't you think?
Arsith gives Isadora a small but weighty purse, putting her finger on her lips with a gently smile
Zee looks at Teldon. Switching to a different language, she asks, "Η Δερω μεταμοσχευθούν τα μάτια του με ένα ζευγάρι από τα δικά τους, έκαναν έτσι δεν είναι?"
"έτσι πιστεύω." Teldon answers more comfortably, "είναι πιθανό ότι η χειρουργική αλλάξει τα δικά του μάτια για να τα κάνουν σαν τα δικά τους , αλλά σε κάθε περίπτωση δεν υπάρχει υπόλοιπο τραύμα , έτσι δεν είναι απλό ξόρκι σκλήρυνση ή την αφαίρεση της τύφλωσης θα ήταν αρκετή ..."
Isadora, still holding the weeping Errol close, looks quizzically at Arsith as she drops a coin purse into her hands...but then, realising the good intentions behind the charitable act, smiles back at the Pharasmin.
There is a banging on the wall and someone outside gruffly shouts, "Time to go folk, we've got a tent to pitch and a show to get ready!". Isadora tuts and, gently kissing Errol's forehead, stands, "He's right, we need to get the best pitch...this is a busy - and profitable - festival". Errol tries to stand but, in the end, just mouths his gratitude from his seated position...
Escorting everyone back out, Isadora thanks you for your concern and for your efforts, "We'll get through this, Errol and I... From what I have heard, it could have been so very much worse... It isn't how I thought married life would turn out but he's alive - I am thankful for that".
Climbing back aboard her wagon, Isadora says that you should definitely come to see the show some time during the week, "Tickets on the house, the least we can do...", and then, geeing her horses along, waves her goodbyes.
By now, night has fallen and the streets of the town are illuminated with a warm orange glow from the flittering orbs floating above...there is a general hubbub within the town as people examine the wares on offer at the stalls lining the streets and lanes. Fortuitously, about fifty yards along the road, past an apparently popular juggler, you can see a sign hanging from a building...the Hermit's Secret...
"But--" Joanna begins hotly before looking away, her sense of duty warring with itself in her eyes.
"Are we even sure this is worth it," she asks quietly.
"I agree," Teldon answers Briana as they walk hand in hand towards the Hermit's Secret, "once we're settled we can hire a courier to take word of the Derro to Lady Heidmarch; I'm sure she'll be able to notify the right people."
Once inside the inn he seeks out the proprietor. "Good evening. We are in need of several rooms for the night," he says, then placing a single brass coin emblazoned with two snakes on the counter he adds, "and perhaps a little company."
Arsith looks at the wagon rolling in the distance with a gentle smile, then follows the others to the inn, still smiling.
As predicted by the folk in the caravan, the Hermit's Secret is bustling - nearly all of the tabkes are occupied with people eating, drinking, laughing and generally having a great time. Indeed, it takes a little bit of effort to make your way theough the crowd to the bar but, when you do get there, the Aspis coin gets the immediate attention of the bartender. "Rooms we can do, Consortium rates of course...and you'll be wanting him over there", the bartender discreetly points out a man sat on his own at a table in a darkened corner, "Bring him this drink if you don't mind, the southern fellow finds the revelries a little brash...wine soothes him somewhat"
With a bottle of red, and a promise of some food, you arrive at the table of your contact - he barely notices you until you are virtually sat at his table - looking up, and seeing the bottle, "Ahhh, Bertrand sent you over with wine? Refill my glass good man and be on your way"
"No," Teldon states dryly as he sits. "Sylvain sent me, with this" he continues, placing the coin on the table, "the wine was incidental."
Despite correcting the stranger, he pours two glasses of wine, passes one to the contact and one to Zee, then checks if any of his other companions would like one...
Joanna waves off the offer, focusing her attention to the rest of the room, but keeping an eye on the Apsis agent.
Arsith simply refuses the wine, and stands not far from the table, daydreaming.
Joanna gives Arsith a quick half-smile, hoping that her nervousness wasn't showing too badly.
Zee takes the glass and raises it to our contact.
"Hail Hydra!"
"To profit!"
Arsith gives Joanna a quizzical look, hoping her apparent uneasiness isn't due to the hand pressing...
The man, almost oblivious to the fact that the party is intent in sitting at his table, smiles at Teldon when the coin is shown and invites him to take a seat, "So, my fellow Bronze, you have come here for the festival? Business or pleasure may I ask?" Suddenly, he catches himself, "Agent Sylvain you say? Then.... You must be Pellius Crispin!!! You have made good time sir, I did not think to see you for another day or so... Especially in that weather".
The man looks slightly concerned at the number of 'attendants' with Teldon and seeks reassurance before continuing...
Lowering his voice, "The Consortium has got increasingly concerned about Mr Kyle's disappearance... They had been confident that he would turn up in Riddleport by now but, as yet, there has been no sign - nor has he reappeared in Magnimar. For my part, I am hardly surprised, no-one comes down off of the moors without stopping here for some much needed civilisation - it's a whole different world up there... A man...", looking at his 'guests', he catches himself, "...a Person could lose their mind up there - the old ways still live on upriver". He lets the slightly ominous words hang in the air before confirming what you already knew, "Elias hasn't been through here...and, if you want my opinion, he isn't going to anytime soon".
Smiling a gold-tooth encrusted smile, he reaches into a satchel and places a drawing of a slightly dishevelled, red-haired fellow on the table, "That's your man... You want my advice, head towards the Storval Stairs as quick as you can... If he has come to harm then the autumn rains will wash away any sign of him soon enough - then he'll be gone for good and, frankly, that's not a result any of us want"
Noticing the bottle is empty, he signals to the barkeeper who brings over a second, noticable finer wine. The man who, you can't help but notice, has yet to tell you his name, proposes a toast, "A drink to good fortune, good business and the Consortium"
Should we really be toasting the Consortium? Aren't they the ones who've been trying to thwart us this whole time? Nalathi gives her companions a concerned glance, then smiles resignedly and raises her glass.
As the stranger raises his glass Teldon reaches casually to the center of the table for a glass and the new bottle of wine. After pouring little more than one swallow for himself, he raises his glass as well and answers, "And to your health and prosperity, Agent..."