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Nhilune examined the rash starting to form on her own skin and gave it a quick once over. She liked to know what she'd been infected with, it always made the healing process easier.
"I actually have something here to help the body fight off disease..." she explained, tailing off at the end as she dug around her belt pouch.
She pulled out something wrapped in a little linen cloth.
"Helps with a few things, this does. Bit of a cure-all."
Sitting in the cloth are a few chunks of... something. They are small, grayish paste-dough things with flecks of who-know-what mixed into them. She holds one up to show the others and frowns.
"They can be taken whole, or if we've got a spot of time we can turn them into a much more pleasant form: tea. Which we could all probably use a cup of anyways. They are bitter so you might want to pull out some honey to help it go down either way. I've got seven on me," she said, doing a bit of a head count. "So I do have enough for everyone."
She strides over to the door and gives a short whistle. A big black bird swoops down off the roof of the tavern and settles on her shoulder. "I find them more effective when he's around," she explains with a shrug as she returns to the bar. She starts separating out the remedies and occasionally looks to the others expectantly. She clearly assumes everyone's going to come allow her to administer these strange (and kind of smelly) things to them all.
Bahram sniffs the herb mess appreciatively. "You might want to add some echindea to the mix. Helps stave off illness. I could use a dose for Varaso, when he wakes."
"I'll take my medicine with something stronger," Amigail says flatly, her eyes going to the bottles of spirits behind the bar.
In a more kindly tone, she adds, "Thank you.... I don't think I caught your name."
Lanarial, used to responding to the orders of the officer of the deck with alacrity and efficiency, quickly moves to the kitchen and returns with a pot of hot water that Vasaro had on the stove in the back. He rummages around the bar to find enough clay mugs for them all and pours the water into a few of them. He pushes an empty mug towards Amigail, and then chooses a bottle at random from the back of the bar. It was an amber liquid, viscous and smelling of honey.
"I am Lanarial. Bahram I know, and he spoke of Alledueces and you, Amigail. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, although I wish it were under better circumstances..."
Amigail is first to drink the concoction it reminds her of how one would think mud tastes were one to drink it - gritty, pastey and definitely not very good. She follows it up with a quick shot of the amber brandy that Lanarial randomly selected.
Nhilune comes to check on Amigail after about ten minutes. She notices that none of Amigail's symptoms have let up. Something is clearly wrong.
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Nihlune dissolves the odd little doughy remedies into the various cups. The texture is grainy and occasionally chunky. She helps the others sip it down, explaining that the concoction becomes inert if not properly taken. Properly taken in this case meaning virtually poured down your throat by Nihlune. For Vasaro, Nihlune works it into a paste and gently paints it onto his tongue for safe ingestion while seeping.
Your sense of urgency is slowed by the effects of whatever has afflicted you. After drinking Nhilune's concoction you have gathered whatever supplies you need and are ready to set out when you hear something being mumbled from your all but forgotten prisoner.
"The weak she will cast out. Never knowing mercy. Te reap upon the land evermore."
"Are you still here?" Amigail asks the prisoner. "I'd have thought the Watch would've carted you off to jail by now. Looks like you were among the weak your goddess cast out. Have fun in prison, waiting for an apocalypse that's never going to happen. And try not to get reaped in there...or something else with those same letters."
With a look of determination on her face, Amigail takes the lead, heading out into the streets, relying upon Alledueces for directions.
Lothenlieth resists the urge to slit the man's throat as they head out.
Lanarial pauses at the prisoner's side. "Whatever plans you had, whatever you think your cult will accomplish, will come to nothing but your death and failure. You have attacked the wrong sort of people, and now I am angry. There are three things all wise men fear: the sea in storm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man..." He then speaks an arcane phrase while touching his slave collar, and then touches the bound cultist. A grim smile appears on his face, and then is gone like the early morning mist over the sea when the sun first rises.
As Lanarial moves to touch the cultist he puts up a struggle but bound tightly in the chair is unable to fend off Lanarial's touch. As the spell takes effect you watch as cultists almost topples over unable to coordinate his movements effectively.
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"I don't know what exactly this disease is, but it'll take more than what I can offer to cleanse ourselves of it. We may wish to find a physician, they are well schooled in such things and only a fool relies purely on natural remedies when other resources are available," Nihlune explained, more for her own benefit than anyone else's. "As long as we carry it, it'll slowly try to suck our vitality away--"
Nihlune cut herself off then rushed to the side of their prisoner. "You. You, are you a carrier?" She roughly inspects the man for signs of the disease, hoping to find none. If he had none, there was likely a cure or at least a preventative to immunize others with.
Amigail initially frowns as Nhilune spoke up, delaying the reckoning she and others (the elves at the very least) had planned for the cultists. Her eyes and the downward-sloping lines of her mouth soften as she realizes the wisdom in the woman's words.
"You've a good head on your shoulders," Amigail tells Nhilune. "If we can't find the cure for this disease ourselves, we should put the task in the hands of someone who can. They can work on a cure while we take the fight to the cultists themselves."
You see now clear as day that the cultist is infected as well. The whites of his eyes are pinkish and his body is burning up with a fever. "There is no escaping the Mother's gift,"he says solemnly and begins to cough. Speckles of blood spray on to you Nhilune."The weak she will cast out. Never knowing mercy. To reap upon the land evermore."
There is a crash behind you turning your attention back to the bar. To your horror what was once the beautiful Basila now stands an abomination. From its blood-red eyes weep a constant stream of watery blood. It moves towards you with surprising agility ready to attack.
Lothenlieth could not believe his eyes. He wanted to weep. But he would not let whatever was wearing Basila's body desecrate her so. Lothenlieth would ensure her spirit could rest.
Lothenlieth moved over to her, striking home with his rapier...
Bahram is filled with horror and despair as Basila reanimates and comes after them. At least Varaso isn't here to see this...how am I going to tell him that his daughter rose as undead?
"I'm so sorry, Bassie. But you shouldn't be here." Bahram states, his hand glowing with white light.
"Try to leave the body intact. We still need to bury her. " He informs the rest of his companions.
Lothenlieth moves with precision and strikes the creature dead in the chest. As the rapier pierces through the creature it steps back ready to retaliate.
Bahram shuffles along hoping to engage with the creature beside Lothenlieth but the table and chair block his path.
Baring its teeth the creature lunges at Lothenlieth attempting to tear into his neck, but the creature's clumsy attack is easily fended off by the skilled swordsmen.
Aledueces begins to sing a song which lifts a small amount of the gloom from the hearts of his allies.
"Coming through!" Amigail says to Alledueces as she tries to hop onto the bar near where he stands.
Standing atop the bar counter, the warrior woman tries to hack at undead Basila from higher ground.
for
As Alledueces tune begins to lift the spirits of the party Amigail runs and hops on to the counter with the agility of a cat striking at the creature. Her heavy bladed falcata chops off a piece of the creature's cheek and jawbone. The creature totters but remains upright.
Lanarial moves up behind Lothenlieth, speaks an arcane phrase, and touches the hilt of his weapon quickly. A magical aura surrounds the elf's rapier. "Finish it." Lanarial tells Lothenlieth, then takes a quick step back.
ROUND 2
Tears fell from Lothenlieth's eyes as he received Lanarial's spell. The young Elf knew, however, that there was no other choice.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, before striking with rapier and spell...
As Lothenlieth's rapier plunges into what was once Basila the creature shrieks and collapses dead once again.
You stand in silence for a moment reflecting on what has happened. On what might happen to each of you. You have only two clues: the vial in Alledueces possession and the map of the Locker. With time clearly against you a decision must be made quickly...
Bahram finds a blanket to wrap Basila's body up completely. How am I going to keep this from Varaso? "My place ia here. The rest of you, go and find the cure. I have matters to attend to,"he says as he looks sadly at the blanket covered body.
Um... Guys.... weren't the kobolds and other two cultists in the area of the vial... Maybe we should make sure that they are not able to get back up as well. Maybe take their heads off or something?
Ignoring what the more militant members of the group are about to do... Alledeuces also pulls a vial out much like the one that had been thrown by the leader of the cultists and grabs a serving tray heading to one of the tables. Look I didn't want to open it here but I don't think we have much choice now. Bahram and Nihlune... would you come look at this with me please?
"Good idea," Amigail says to Alledueces. "You three try to figure out what's in that vial while me and the elves drag these others outside and draw-and-quarter them."
Amigail grabs the boot of a kobold and starts dragging the thing out into the street for its brutal 'last rites.'
Lothenlieth spits up a bit of blood, his injuries from the earlier fight taking effect now that the adrenaline was draining from him.
"Ugh...could use some healing, here..."
"We need to be healed of this disease before we go exploring. I heard someone mention a castle - wouldn't they have skilled healers? Or is it too far?" the elf asks. "I could also use a night to rest and a chance to study my spellbook - I may have some more useful spells for an expedition. As it stands now I have few options left."
As Amigail begins to drag the bodies out and perform their 'last rites' the rest of you discuss what you know of this disease plus anything else you might have come across in your journeys. The conclusion while not surprising is still grim.
The disease must be tied to a powerful magic artifact somehow and if this is case magic will likely have a different effect when interacting with the disease.
"With luck, the disease is not contagious. Anyway it appears magical in nature, so the only way to get rid of it would be to deal with the source of the disease. I can only help you this much."
He uses his wand to heal the worst of the wounds.
"Good luck, and may you find a way to end the plague swiftly. Our lives depend on your success." The look on his face is uncharacteristically grim, as if there was a part that had not been said. Before its too late...
Amigail listens to Bahram's words as he heals her unnatural wounds at the touch of his wand. Clapping the half-orc on the shoulder, she thanks him for the healing.
"Will you not come with us to confront this evil?" she asks. Twisting Bahram's own words, she adds, "Our success may depend on your presence."
Turning to the balking spellcasters, Amigail says, "How badly do you require rest? My sword arm isn't tired but, in truth, it's not particularly strong either. I cannot do this without your help. I want to deal with this blight to our city right now, but...I leave the decision in your hands. What is your decision?"
Alledueces looks at Bahram and feels a touch sad at what he's about to do...
Bah... WE NEED YOU!!! We don't know what this disease is or does. You have shown more knowledge about this cult then the rest of us put together. We don't know how many other people in other places around the city have been infected. All we know is that we have to get to the artifact that's behind it and put an end to it. We all have connections to Basilla and Vasaro. We all want to stay and help out, here. But people with the kind of skills and abilities that we have are needed for this. You are being very selfish by staying here. This city needs you. We need you. We all care about Vasaro... but what good will it do for you to stay here if the disease gets out of control and the whole city falls to these mad men.
Alledueces turns his attention to everyone in the room.
We are the only ones standing between Casomir and disaster. There is not allot of time. We don't know how many of these groups are out infecting innocent victims. We need to put this cult down... NOW!!! We don't have time to worry about heading to the temple. We don't have time to rest. Their is a plague about to destroy this city and we're in a place to do something about it. I can't make the rest of you come. But I'm going to do something about this now.
In a quieter tone... It's... It's... what Basilla... would have wanted.
With that the Halfling walks out the door into the night.
Amigail looks at the others with sad, uncertain eyes.
"I can't let that brave little...pest...face this evil alone."
With that, she heads out after Alledueces.
Lanarial looks at Nhilune and shrugs, saying, "Well, I guess we have to go along for the ride. We'd better save our remaining spells until we really need them..." He grabs his bow and motions for the changeling to precede him and follow the group...
Before he goes through the door, Lanarial stops and turns to the half-orc. "Come on, Bahram. The little one is right. We need to work together to end this threat, and you are as important as anyone else here tonight. I know you still have the spark in you. Let's move!"
"No. My place is here. I cannot leave Varaso his time of need. How could I, after failing him not once, but twice?" , with anguish in his voice. "I would join you, but only after I tend to business here. I would not leave my old friend to bury his daughter alone," he says sadly.
"Alledueces, you were the one who encouraged us when hope seemed lost. Lorthenlien, you were the one who struck the cultist with the killing blow."He pauses for a moment. "You are all more then the sum of your parts. Believe in yourselves."
"Here, take this. It'll help in your quest." He hands over his wand of CLW to Nhilune.
I'll track wand uses, subtract the necessary.
"Then take care of your business. Take care of Vasaro. We'll come back here to check on you all when we can." the elf says to his old acquaintance.