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Alorea
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Jalene gives a rueful smile. "Yup, furthest I've been out of town is the lumber camps by the forest." She leans back, tipping up her flagon to empty it, before setting it back on the table and waving for two more. "Can't imagine what it must be like just to wander, go where you like." She grins at you. "Not sure I'd come here though, it's alright to live but I wouldn't want to visit. But I guess there's your friend to think about. What you thinking there?" She impulsively reaches out to squeeze your hand. "Don't go into the woods by yourself, there's too much there'd see you as a tasty snack. Be a shame to lose you to them before finding out if they're right, you know?"
Alorea returns the hand squeeze. She is enjoying the attention Jalene is showing her--the first bit of joy she's experienced since coming to Falcon's Hollow.
"No, I won't be going into the woods alone. I prefer to be the snack-er, not the snack-ee!" she says with a giggle. "I'm sure there are a few people around these parts who wouldn't mind seeking a bit of adventure by accompanying me. Might you know of any?"
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Alorea
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Jalene grins. "I can help with that. Why don't I buy you dinner, you shouldn't be drinking this on an empty stomach anyway, and we can talk about it?"
Over the meal (assuming you agree), she orders another round of the darkleaf brew and pauses for a moment about what to say. "There's a couple people you could talk to. The local hunters are led by a tracker called Chortun, Barlus Chortun - he knows the woods better'n anyone." She frowns, and chews on her lower lip for a moment. "Haven't seen him around though for a bit, now I think about it. Your other bet is the temple of Iomedae. The priestess there, Lady Cirthana Gensar, is tough, demon-slayer from up near Mendev, I heard." She talks about it as though it's as distant as the near-mythical First World; she is a small-town girl, after all. "She's pretty busy here, but her daughter takes after her, adoptive daughter I should say, keep forgetting that. Siobhan Sable. She and I grew up together, I'm pretty sure she'd jump at a chance for some adventure. So would some of her friends actually, they're getting to that age when they need something to do, you know?" She rolls her eyes. "Otherwise they might have to get a job..."
"Speaking of which, the minstrel who plays at Jak's, nice young woman, great singer. Jak was an adventurer in her time and I think she's filling Lu's head with stories." She purses her lips. "Siobhan, Lu, a couple of their friends, yeah, I think some time out of town would be really good for them." She reaches out to give your hand another squeeze, not letting go this time. "You could be the best thing to happen to them in a while. Me too, I'm hoping, if that ain't too forward."
"Siobhan and her friends sound like promising candidates," Alorea agrees. "I shall seek them out tomorrow morning. But tonight, I'm here with you."
She gives Jalene another broad smile. "That is forward of you, aye, but not too much so. As a wanderer, I never stay in one place for too long, and so any dalliances I partake in must be on an accelerated timetable. I will likely be moving on in the weeks to come, but as long as you can accept that our time together may be brief, that time together can be pleasant, indeed."
"Sadly, I do not know where old Balrus is keeping himself. In a matter of fact, I was searching for him myself." He says, then waves a hand toward Vyana. "Or for your own good self, yes, yes, as one of his fine students."
He bows his head...
Vyana shakes her head in annoyance. "That's ... that's not good. I haven't seen him for a few days either and now I'm worried." She looks around as if hope-against-hope he might appear at any moment. "I need to talk to him ... about something in the woods," she says finally. "Maybe we need to ..." She shakes her head again, the indecision turning knots in her stomach.
With an abrupt turn she starts back towards the chapel. "C'mon," she says, gesturing with a hand for Scupper to follow.
In just a few moments, she's back inside the warm environs of the small building and her eyes seek out ...
"Von!" she calls out as she approaches the young woman. "I haven't seen Barlus in a couple of days and I think ... I think something might be wrong. We both need to talk to him." She gestures at the goblin next to her. "Could you help us find him?"
Siobhan was a good friend and one needed friends when one's heart was troubled, right?
"I've heard some talk about her before but she's never actually attacked someone that I know of... Do you want me to hang out with you today? I don't have any specific plans apart from doing the dishes here."
Lucia smiles at the offer. "That's kind of you. I think though I ned to stand by myself, show them I'm not afraid. What would really help me though is if the grown ups could all get their act togehter. I mean, the sherif and teh herbalist aren't on the side of the Kreeds, but it's not like they work together with your mum, and they should be allies." She breaks off, realising that she soudns like she is criticising Siobhan's mum, and that is not a sensible thing to do. "I'm sorry. I dont' mean to have a go at her, I'm grateful she's on my side. I just don't get why there isn't more of a team effort to side against the Lumer Consortium.
"Something in the woods. Yes, yes. That is just... Scupper doesn't get any further before Vyana has turned and starts walking away. Seeing her gesture him to follow, he shrugs and does as bid.
He can't help but hear Fate's foul wings flapping overhead, its raven-cackle mocking his misfortune when the half elf marches right into the gruesome smelling temple with its over abundance of syrup coated flapkjacks. Hiking up his woven scrap-rope belt, he sighs, wrinkles his nose and follows the longshank inside.
Trying to maintain his cool among the harsh smells. "Blessed Matron, there's even diced cataloupe lurking on the main buffet." His eyes dutifully avoid the bowl of sweet orange melon. Instead he focuses his attention on those folk Vyana is speaking to and nodding his head when she mentions his own need to locate the missing druid.
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Alorea
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Jalene gives you a good-natured eye-roll as you talk about time together being brief. "I'm not looking to settle down with someone just yet, if you know what I mean."
She looks around the taproom of The Sitting Duck, which is getting more and more rowdy as it gets later and later. "Looks like everything's under control, they don't need me here." She stands up, with a grin and another wink. "Shall I walk you back to your lodgings?"
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"For all their faults, and I agree there are a lot, they are the lawful authority here." Siobhan replies with a long sigh. The resigned tone to her words makes it clear that she's repeating a well-worn argument. "Cirthana can't act again them, the Inheritor teaches respect for lawful authority. Although she doesn't have to help them either..."
It's clear that she's about to say something else when Vy bursts in with her request.
"Of course!" Von replies, pulling her friend into a brief hug. "Whatever you need! Give me a sec to run upstairs and get Courage! Lu, you want to come with us?"
Without waiting for a response she rushes up the stairs to find Savram still out cold.
She'll be fine. She decides after a moment. Mum won't let anything happen to her. A few moments later a piece of scrawled paper replaces the scabbarded sword on her dresser and Von rushes back downstairs, buckling her belt as she goes.
"I'm ready!" She declares. "Where do you want to start?"
"Um ... I know this might be strange, but ... can we start with your mom?" Vyana asks, shuffling her feet nervously. "I know he was talking a lot to her a few days ago and maybe she knows ... something?"
"I know he was talking a lot to her a few days ago and maybe she knows ... something?"
"Knows something about what?" Cirthana has a parent's instinct for appearing when her child is about to do something unusually foolish or ill-advised - and dashing off into the forest without planning or preparation would certainly count as that.
She gives a raised-eyebrow stare to the sword Siobhan is carrying, before turning her attention to the half-elf.
Vyana's eyes drop to the floor and her face flushes. "I was hoping that you might know where Barlus is?" One hand nervously brushes at her hair, pushing the loose strands back behind her ear. "I haven't seen him since ... since a couple of days ago and there was something I ... we ... needed to talk to him about."
Cirthana lets out a long breath before pursing her lips pensively as she wonders what to say. "I have been talking to Barlus about several things recently. Just over a week ago, he confided in me that he had done something which I consider to be exceptionally foolish, but the details of which need not concern you." She's clearly not going to spill Vyana's secret in front of anyone.
"When he left here, he was planning to go and spend some time thinking about things - I would assume, in the forest; and you will not find him there if he does not wish to be found. Although..." she frowns slightly. "He's been gone significantly longer than I would have thought strictly necessary."
*I'll give you more details on these as you need them. Hopefully that's enough to go on for now!
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Siobhan has a child's instinct for knowing when their parent is withholding something and her wide eyes narrow slightly as she looks at her mother and then at Vyana. The expression clears swiftly, only to reappear when Cirthana admits that its been too long.
"Well we should go looking for him then!" She declares firmly. "Even the best hunters can get into trouble in the woods."
Scupper listens quietly to the back and forth between Cirthana, Yvana, and Siobhan. Although it would be unfortunate if the druid got himself eaten by a mountain drake...or a giant wolf...Balrus was really just a means to information for the goblin. While everyone prepared to run off after the lost druid, none had mentioned the core of the problem. Or at least the problem as handed out by Mister Payday Teedum. So despite his desire to depart the maple-infused air of Iomedae's temple as soon as possible, Scupper instead clears his throat and gazes at the longshank priestess of Iomedae.
"Excuse me please." He says tilting his head politely toward Cirthana and the others. "Finding Balrus is most important, yes and yes, but others might know the answer to a most important question, eh?" He says, his ears tipped upward with alert curiosity.
"Has anyone heard or seen a giant wolf roaming the woods?" The goblin asks. "Many a rumor rides the timber crews like crows upon the wind. Yes, yes. Squawking crews make bosses unhappy. Unhappy bosses make for miserable goblins. So Scupper looks to prove the rumors false or find the beast and deal with it." He looks around at those gathered. "Perhaps good folk wish to help? Know something about big beast?"
Yvana's head snaps around at the mention of a wolf and her gaze darkens.
"It's not a rumor," she says, keeping her voice low. "There's a wolf out there bigger'n any other I've ever seen. I didn't see it, but I saw its tracks - t'was following me this morning."
Again she decides not to bring up what was most likely her imagination.
She looks around the taproom of The Sitting Duck, which is getting more and more rowdy as it gets later and later. "Looks like everything's under control, they don't need me here." She stands up, with a grin and another wink. "Shall I walk you back to your lodgings?"
"If you insist," Alorea says with a smile. She stands as well, taking Jalene's hand and leading her back to where she has been staying. The halfling closes the door behind the two of them...
Lucia has a feeling taht the conversation has spiraled from a quesiton about a missing friend to a mad idea to go into the forest, and tries to put some sort of stop to that. "It sounds like Barlus doesn't want to be found, and if there's a big wolf out there I'm perfectly ok with not going to do that."
Yvana's head snaps around at the mention of a wolf and her gaze darkens.
"It's not a rumor," she says, keeping her voice low. "There's a wolf out there bigger'n any other I've ever seen. I didn't see it, but I saw its tracks - t'was following me this morning."
Again she decides not to bring up what was most likely her imagination.
Scupper's eyes grow wide and his ears droop practically down to touch his shoulders while his mouth forms a small tooth-filled oh.
"You mean the rumors are actually true? There really is a giant wolf lurking about the near woods?" He says with alarm and more than a little surprise. The reality being he'd thought the whole story was a bit far fetched and probably started by some goblin or longshank worker who wanted to get out of workin'. Fate's cackles echo in his mind.
Scupper quickly grabs his kerchief and sneezes. The smell of the maple really was beginning to bother him. He turns to Lucia, who he'd heard singing inside the pub a time or two, and shakes his head when she shows a bit of hesitation.
"Oh no,no. We must find Barlus. He is best suited to deal with such a creature. If we cannot find him, then it will be up to us to do something." He says, talking himself into it as much as anyone else. "Yes and yes. No one else will. Kreed's won't care if a few goblin folk or even others get eaten, just hire more. Sheriff is too busy feuding with Boss Payday..." His eyes flick toward Cirthana. "...and those who could be his allies."
"Got to stick together." He clasps his hands together and grins. "Much stronger when united, yes and yes."
"Enough."
Cirthana crosses her arms across her chest, a sure sign that she is not happy with what she's hearing, and that she has made up her mind.
"I think you have all had too much maple syrup, it has gone to your heads and made you too excitable. You cannot possibly think that running into those woods, in search (I would remind you) of someone who right now does not want to be found, is a sensible plan."
She looks at Scupper. "I sympathise with your plight, and when Barlus returns I will absolutely support you in seeking his help for your endeavours. Indeed, I'm sure he will volunteer without needing to be asked. But for now, all we can do is wait. I'm sure he won't be more than a few more days." The goblin, it would seem, is not the only one trying to talk themselves into something.
But (as Fate, or Chance, or Destiny, or one of those reprobates would have it) you don't have a few more days...
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Siobhan knows better to argue with her mother, especially in company, but that doesn't mean she won't speak to her. So she steps up to stand in front of Cirthana and speaks softly, for her ears only.
"Mum... they're right. Barlus has been gone too long. You know it, I can see that, and Vy knows it too. She knows him better than anyone and I trust her. If she says there's a giant wolf out there then there is, and Barlus shouldn't be out there by himself. Even the Lumber Consortium are getting worried about this mum! If they're freaking then there has to be something seriously wrong and the Inheritor wouldn't want us to sit passively and wait. Evil can only be confronted by action." Quoting the Thirteen Acts to a priestess of Iomedae is a bold move, but Siobhan knows her mother. "Please mum. We need to do this, and I'd like to do it with your blessing, not against it."
Left unspoken, but not unsaid, is that she will be doing it, regardless of what Cirthana says.
If Siobhan thought that her mother might relent, she has underestimated Cirthana's resolve; although the priestess does her best to avoid being confrontational as she gives a patient sigh. "I'm glad you trust Vyana, my dear; it is one of the great bonds of fellowship. And I trust her too, to look after your interests and to care about her friends. But that is a long way from saying that you, or she, are prepared and equipped to go into the forest by yourselves. But I'm very pleased that you have been listening to the teachings!" She gives you a smile. "There may be hope for you yet."
There is a long pause, while she waits to see whether that is enough to quell the defiance that Siobhan hasn't given voice to. When she sees it has not, she gives another long sigh and looks up to the heavens.
"I can see feelings are running high, and I need to pray for guidance. I have obligations for the rest of the day, but we will talk more tomorrow."
But as it happens (and through no fault of her own) that is one promise she is destined not to fulfill...
23 ROVA (IX) 4707 AR
In a hole in the ground, there was a well. This particular well was dug out around a century ago, by (or at least, on the orders of) a wealthy trader by the name of Brookman who (other than the well that bears his name) is lost to posterity. What distinguishes this well from the others in Falcon's Hollow is that it is fed by a spring that bubbles up from the mountains beyond the deep wood, with its source somewhere in or around the slumbering volcano known as Droskar's Crag. This fact, which would normally be of interest only to geologists or hydrologists, today affects the fate of the town and all who live within it...
...Siobhan wakes up before dawn, to utter silence. Cirthana, who should have been up with her volunteers preparing and making breakfast, is still in bed; pale and feverish, she struggles to breathe and when she gets out of bed, she stumbles and falls...
...Payday staggers into the Cutyard far later than he normally would, being propelled forward by grit and spite and pure ill-will. He spends most of the day sitting, and he has to order beatings to be given out, rather than administering them himself...
...Jak stays in bed all day, too sick to get up; a notice goes up on the tavern, temporarily closing it for business...
...The sheriff (much like Payday) walks into his office by force of will, but is not in any state to do much; he gives orders to the few deputies that arrive for their shift, but is feverish and finds it hard to concentrate for long...
...Vamros the halfling magistrate and Tabrik the dwarf deputy are in the middle of one of their furious quarrels about justice, corruption and love when Tabrik collapses, struggling for breath. The dapper halfling runs over to him and calls weakly for help, even as he feels himself succumbing...
...Savram is reluctantly assisting her father with one of his gruesome experiments when she collapses to the floor, coughing up black froth, bile and blood. Only when Sharvaros has finished making all his notes, several hours later, does he lift his daughter up and take her to the herbalist...
...Alice Walker, whose kiss with Siobhan seems to have raised all manner of speculation and gossip, finds herself having to open and run the general store by herself when both her parents wake up so ill they can barely move...
...And on and on it goes: while some fortunate few (including Jalene, Sharvaros the necromancer, and Brikasnurd the gnome merchant) are spared, fully half the town is affected by this mysterious sickness, with its symptoms that vary so wildly between patients it's hard at first to know that it even has a common cause. While most who are afflicted by it are severely debilitated but able to function (including Cirthana, Payday, and Vamros the magistrate), there are an unfortunate subset (including Jak the tavernkeeper, Deldrin the sheriff, his deputy Tabrik and the ever-unlucky Savram) who are clearly not only sick, but getting very much worse...
Those who are (whether by chance or fortune or fate) spared from illness find themselves with no shortage of things to do; talk of expeditions in search of wayward hunters is (at least for the moment) shelved.
24 ROVA (IX) 4707 AR
The town's herbalist, Laurel Gebre, in between seeing to the long queue of desperate patients lining up outside her shop, Roots and Remedies, manages to trace the source of the malady to Brookman’s well, and a malady she calls blackscour. By banning the use of the spring, the sheriff hopes to prevent further victims, but such measures offer little respite to those already afflicted.
Indeed, Laurel's accumulated wisdom and folk remedies are proving to be as useless as Cirthana's prayers as the priestess (still obviously feverish and not well at all) goes from one sickbed to the next, her face lined with fatigue and a powerless frustration.
25 ROVA (IX) 4707 AR
Today town elder Barant Thyklos was the first to be claimed by the mysterious, wheezing death. Thyklos was one of the oldest people in Falcon’s Hollow, always ready to regale anyone in the local tavern, Jak’a’napes, with stories of the Great Winter of ‘48 or the Hobgoblin Raids of ‘69 and ‘73.
News of Thyklos's death spreads through the town rapidly, and Cirthana summons each of you into her study. The priestess looks considerably worse than she did even yesterday: lack of sleep combined with whatever it is that the blackscour is doing to her, although she is fighting it more successfully than many of the poor unfortunates who are coughing and spluttering their lives out in the nave of the church; or (like Savram) drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to fully awaken.
"I need your help. Indeed, it is fair to say that the entire town needs your help; although they may not appreciate that. But with the way things stand, you may be Falcon's Hollow's last hope."
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Siobhan rises to the occasion in spectacular fashion, although she's obviously more than a little terrified by the situation. To those who know her well her smile is forced, her swagger forced and her entire attitude uncertain, but to those who do not know her so well the young woman is a beacon of hope and good humor. She physically carries her mother downstairs to oversee the usual breakfast preparations, although Cirthana isn't allowed to actually help in her state.
Siobhan spends all day marching around town, helping people left and right (and offering more than one peculiarly powerful blessing which leaves the recipients feeling better for an hour or two). Her facade cracks late in the day when she finds Sharvaros lugging his comatose daughter and stopping to negotiate with the butcher along the way. Siobhan sweeps her friend out of her father's grasp, spits at his feet and marches away without another word.
She stops off in the shop later and spends a few minutes chatting with Alice as she collects mugwort and camomile for soothing teas.
"How are your parents doing?" She asks, "Don't tell me that they've come down with this fever that's going around?"
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When the group assembles in Cirthana's study Siobhan is already there, with a supportive hand on her mother's shoulder and a steaming mug of tea at her side.
Perhaps surprisingly, given her words the previous day, Siobhan seems less than delighted by her foster mother's pronouncement.
Alorea had enjoyed the night she had spent with Jalene, but with the mysterious malady spreading through the town, she'd had little time to spare a thought towards the blossoming relationship. She spent the next few days among the halflings, doing her best to help administer remedies and keep the sick's spirits up, but there wasn't a whole lot she could really do to help.
When Cirthana puts out the call, she arrives swiftly, eager to do something that might actually make a difference. She bows to the priestess and her adopted daughter and gratefully accepts a mug of tea. "I am happy to help. What is it that you need us to do?"
Much like Siobhan, Lucia does her bsest to rise to the occasion, looking after Jak and doing her best to make sure that the tavern is at least able to attend to the people styaing there, even if it is closed to new guests. She spends a lot of time with those who are sick - her music has some healing powers, but - again like the paladin - she finds that although she can make people feel better for a while, she can't cure whatever it is that they have.
She turns up in Cirthana's study short of sleep, having come straight from the funeral for Gaffer Thyklos - she wasn't exactly a friend of his, but anyone who spent time at Jak's tavern knew him to speak to. Her eyes are rimmed with tiredness and loss. Although seeing how ill Cirthana looks, makes Lucia realise that she is one of the lucky ones.
She doesn't hesistate to offer her help. "Whatever you need."
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Siobhan
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For the first time you can remember (ever), you can feel a feverish heat radiating from Savram's body as you wrest her from her father's grasp. She stirs weakly in your arms as you stride back towards the temple, where the rest of the sick are being gathered. "...Von? That ... you?" She coughs up more black froth and blood. "knew you'd... best friends... love you so much." By the time you get her to the temple, she's in a comatose state that she hasn't stirred from since.
Alice is doing her best to keep her spirits up by keeping busy, a pattern you recognise in both yourself and your adoptive mother. She gives you a weak smile. "They're not as ill as some, thank the gods!" She looks around bewildered. "I don't know how they keep this place going, I need four of me and a day to do what they manage in a morning! What were you here to get?"
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"Love you too, silly." Siobhan replies, trying to keep her face cheerful rather than looking as terrified as she currently feels. "I'm taking you home so you can lie abed and relax for a while."
She even cuts her own arm and drips blood into Savram's unresisting mouth, reasoning that it might help fight off whatever the strange affliction is.
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"Mugwort, chamomile and any linen you have." Siobhan replies. "I'm glad to hear they're not so bad. Some people have it really bad. And you're alright Alice? I know we haven't exactly spoken since..."
The normally articulate young woman finds that she doesn't know how to finish that sentence.
When the message arrived from Cirthana, Scupper lay dozing with his head resting on his rickety workbench, a small pool of drool soaking into the wooden seams. It had been an exhausting few days. The clans had been decimated by the sickness. Goblins whose typical dark green or blue tinted skin woke to find themselves covered with grotesque, pale, almost peach colored blotches. Along with the blotches came the itching, congestion, wheezing hacking coughing, and delirium. There is nothing quite so dangerous as a hallucinating goblin running heavy mill equipment.
Scupper was exhausted. Doing his best to help Laurel find a cure, or in reality just make folk comfortable, to dealing with a sudden surge of industrial accidents, the little alchemist hadn't had more than a few hours sleep over the last three days. Then the clan mucky-mucks closed the tenements.
Scupper really couldn't blame the Chief and Matrons. Something like this happens in a city and there'd be folk blaming goblins for the trouble sure as the sun rises in the sky. It'd been happening since goblins and tall folk first met. He figured the only reason they weren't beating on the tenement gates right now is because those so inclined were too sick to lift a brick.
So for the second time in a week, Scupper finds himself standing, decked out with all his gear, within the confines of the Temple of Iomedae. The smell of syrup has mostly been replaced by a pungent mix of boiling herbs, grain alcohol, sweat, and sickness. Something of an olfactory improvement, but at much too high of a cost. He thinks walking through the makeshift infirmary on his way to Cirthana's study.
When the obviously ill priestess asks for aide, he is quick to agree. Not only because he wished to do so for his own sake, but because he felt it important to have the clans represented as part of the solution. Tensions were already high because some folk were jealous of goblins working the higher wage jobs in the mill. Scuppered shuddered to think what would happen if goblins got blamed for this plague. Anything he could do to prevent a pogrom, he would do.
"What little my humble self and goblin kind can offer, you may certainly have. Yes and yes." The goblin says tilting his head politely to Cirthana and the others.
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Siobhan
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"...since I made a move on you and you didn't follow-up?" Alice gives you a good-natured, teasing smile. "It's ok. You're looking for 'The One' and I'm not them, apparently. I'll get over you." She gives you a look, up and down. "Short-stuff."
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Everyone
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Cirthana gives you all a grateful look, and takes a sip of the nettle tea her daughter has prepared, before doubling over in a long bout of coughing that leaves her breathless. In the almost ten years she's been posted here, she has stood resolute against the Lumber Consortium; but it seems that this malady has done what they could not, and put her out of action.
Once she has recovered, she asks - rhetorically - the question that all of you are wondering, in some form or another. "What can be done? I have prayed and I have cast some of the magics that I know, and I now know for sure that the answer lies, in some form or another, with Laurel Gebre and her herbalist shop."
She makes a face of inscrutability, although those of you who know her well can see the pain behind the mask she presents. "It is no secret that Laurel and I are not allies. All you need to know is that I cannot ask for her aid, just as I know that she will not seek mine. But I know she has an answer for this malady. The Inheritor has never yet steered me wrongly when I have called on her directly."
She looks at you all. "I therefore need your help. Please go to Laurel and find out what she knows. It may be that she is not aware of knowing it. My guidance was only to seek her aid, not what form it might take. But know this: my answer was both weal and woe. There is risk involved, although I cannot answer what."
Vyana nods as Cirthana lays out the first step for them. "So we'll go talk to the herbalist," she says as if running the words over in her head. "If she has the cure then why wouldn't she offer it initially? Whatever this malady is, it hasn't been very discriminating in who it affects."
She shakes her head.
"Not to say that we won't do as you request. If this can provide a solution to this calamity then we should make haste."
Lucia is beyond tired, and into the sort of exhaustion where self control is just a luxury. It's not just the physical tiredness of running the bar for Jak and looking after the sick people. It goes beyond that, a tiredness of trying to make alliances and mae a difference in this town when all the odds are stacked so unfair against her. She glared at Cirthana. "I'm sorry you're ill - but this town is fracking DYING because you and the herbalist can't get your s$$* together! What the hell is WRONG with the tow of you?!?!? So yes, we'll do this of course, you don't need to ask. But you, lady, need to have a long think about things, because otherwise we might just as well burn this whole f%#%ing place to the ground and give up."
Her temper runs it's course and she runs out of words, just standing there breathing heavily.
"Right. Let's go and talk to Laurel."
Alorea winces as the other woman goes off on Cirthana. She stays quiet until the tirade has finished, then nods in agreement. "Yes, let's."
Once the group is outside, the halfling turns to the others. "I apologize. I haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet. My name is Alorea. Though I am not a resident of this town, I'll do all in my power to help its people."
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Cirthana endures Lucia's anger as the church weathers a storm, patiently outlasting it until it has dissipated. In the silence that falls afterwards, she gives the young woman a sad smile. "One of the most terrifying things about growing up, my dear, is discovering that the adults around you are not as all-powerful or all-knowing as you thought. Even, or perhaps especially, the ones you looked up to. We are fallible, we are vulnerable, we have blind spots." She takes another few sips of her tea. "I don't ask for you to understand but if I have disappointed you, for that I am sorry."
Vyana nods as Cirthana lays out the first step for them. "So we'll go talk to the herbalist," she says as if running the words over in her head. "If she has the cure then why wouldn't she offer it initially? Whatever this malady is, it hasn't been very discriminating in who it affects."
Cirthana shakes her head. "I know Laurel. She is a good person, whatever our differences. As I said, she may not even be aware that she has the answers. But whatever this malady is, it eludes me: it is neither poison nor disease, or else it would respond to my prayers."
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"Yeah." Siobhan says with an embarrassed shrug. "I... you're lovely Alice but... I'm just not ready for... whatever we'd be. I'm sorry."
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Siobhan nods when the rest of the group agrees and leaves with a final squeeze of her mothers shoulder. Once out of the church she nods in acknowledgement of Alorea's greeting.
"Thank you Alorea, for being willing to help with this. We don't have any time, let's get going quickly."
As the group walks through town at Siobhan's extremely brisk pace the woman in question falls into step with Vyana.
"Sav's in a really bad way." She says softly. "Vy, I think she's going to die if we can't help her soon."
Lucia's cheeks glow red as the angry reply she exptected - hped for? - doesn't arrive, and she instead gets an apology she cna't handle right now. She just nods awkeardly and leaves as fast as she can.
Once the group is outside, the halfling turns to the others. "I apologize. I haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet. My name is Alorea. Though I am not a resident of this town, I'll do all in my power to help its people."
"Hello, Alorea. I'm Lucia. I hope frst impresions don't last because that wasn't a good one, I know. My nerves are wound tighter than the strings on my lute right nwo."
Scupper glances between Cirthana and Lucia and then just shrugs and follows everyone out of the temple. The goblin was puzzled by the priestesses insistence that Laurel had the answer. During his time spent helping the herbalist the last few days, she'd seemed just as frustrated, puzzled, and uncertain of how to deal with the Blackscour, as she called it, as everyone else. Except of course for her discovery that it was all related to the Brookman's Well.
His thoughts are interrupted when Alorea introduces herself. After which he nods, lifts his battered straw hat from his head and then drops it back into place releasing a small cloud of fine sawdust into the air around his head.
"Pleasant to meet you miss Alorea." He says, stifling a sneeze. "I'm Scupper of clan Shroomgut."
Vyana cringes when Lucia looses her temper on the ailing woman, but she doesn't intervene. A small part of her in agreement with the dressing down.
"Sav's in a really bad way." She says softly. "Vy, I think she's going to die if we can't help her soon."
Vyana's hand reaches out as if to take Siobhan's in hers, but pulls it back awkwardly. "We'll figure this out, Von. She'll be fine and sucking blood before you know it."
As most of you (with the possible exception of Alorea) already know, the herbalist, Laurel Gebre, owns and runs an establishment called Roots and Remedies, a rugged-looking two-story shop bearing a faded sign with the name barely legible underneath the creeping ivy and trailing window-boxes. According to local lore, there was a herbalist here even before Falcon's Hollow was founded, and the town was built around it; while that may or may not be true, the building looks ancient enough that it might be true.
Regardless of that, Roots & Remedies has for generations been the go-to place for every sick person in Falcon's Hollow, or person who's convinced they're sick - and right now, that's most of the town. Even this early in the morning, a long line of sombre townsfolk (some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears) stretches from the closed door, not-so-patiently waiting for it to open for the day.
It's going to be a long wait to get to the front. Or not, if you just barge your way to the front; of course, that might have repercussions of its own.
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Vyana's hand reaches out as if to take Siobhan's in hers, but pulls it back awkwardly. "We'll figure this out, Von. She'll be fine and sucking blood before you know it."
Von clutches blindly for Vy's hand and holds it tight, still looking straight ahead.
"But what if she's not, Vy?" She whispers. "What if she's not?" Her other hand clutches at her chest, where her pendant, Savram's gift, hangs.
Lucia looks at the queue, she doesn't have patience for waiting even in good times. "I don't think so." She looks at the goblin. "Scupper, right? I know you work with Laurel. So let's go with that."
With Scupper besides her, she walks confidence to the front of the line. The people there are mostly people she knows, either because it's a small town or because there regular at Jack's tavern. She gives them a tired smile. "Scuse me, scuse me, sorry, herbalist assistant coming through, it's urgent." Which is not *exactly* a lie, although it doesn't explain why the rest of them are there. But confidence and a good story will get you most of the way there. And it looks like Siobhan is distracted by her own worries so the paladin s unlikely to have a nasty attack of truthfulness.
"But what if she's not, Vy?" She whispers. "What if she's not?" Her other hand clutches at her chest, where her pendant, Savram's gift, hangs.
The touch of her friend's hand sends tingles up Vyana's arm and causes heat to rise to her face. "You can't think about 'what ifs', Von," she says. "Focusing on what might happen will keep you from loosing your arrow. And an arrow in hand will always miss its target."
She gives the warm hand a squeeze and then releases it as they arrive at the herbalist's shop.
Lucia's fast talking does the work, and it helps that enough people recognise Scupper as being Laurel's assistant. Nothing is really said, but there's a shuffling back to let you through the front door.
The smell of burnt earth and spicy incense chokes the air of the cramped, mud-tracked shop. Bunches of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, along with dangling pots, presses, alchemical apparatuses, and glassware of more arcane purposes. Pouches of rare plants, jars of colored glass, and all manner of dried, preserved, and jellied animal parts fill high shelves and tables doing double duty as displays and workspaces. In the shop’s rear, Laurel busies herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, a table covered in stray powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly bubbling over with thick, evil-smelling grey froth. The rail-thin Garundi woman is somehow even leaner than normal, and looks as though she hasn't slept for quite some time. Even her dreadlocks are looking frayed and weary. Over the din of her work, she only just hears the ringing of the bell as the door opens; she looks up impatiently at you all, before her gaze lights on Scupper. She shakes her head: "Whatever you're wanting to take back to the tenements, I can't spare it. Sorry."
She refocuses as she realises the goblin is not alone, and her eyes narrow speculatively. "You none of you look ill to me, and if you're just after the usual things young people want then you'll have to wait. I'm kind of busy right now. Although..." Ever the herbalist, she is looking at Lucia's pale features. "You're not getting enough daylight, my dear. Parsely and kale, bitter herbs. Eat more of them. And you..." she looks inquisitively at Vyana. "That fair elven skin of yours doesn't really handle the elements, does it? When this is all over, come and talk to me about balms. No good living to be a hundred if your nose is peeling off, hey?"
She grimaces, realising that she's wasting time in chatter despite herself. "Now come on. If you're not ill, I've too many people who are." She sighs, heavily. "Not that I'm doing a damn bit of good for them."
"Hoo-oo-oo!" Laurel gives a slightly mirthless laugh and gives Siobhan a very sharp look. "Score one for the old-timey religion, then. But I bet she's not having any luck curing it, is she? Using the wrong magic, for sure. Put your trust in alchemy, at least you'll know what you're dealing with!" She makes a face. "Even if you can't do anything about it. Blackscour taint is rare, I've only ever read about it happening in Ustalav and Geb, places where there's necromantic energy welling up. It gets in the ground, it seeps into the water and you get... well, you get what we got here. Nasty stuff, hard, bitter, sharp. You get it in you, it starts eating away in your chest, in your belly, in your lungs and it's determined to stay. Your body near turns itself inside-out trying to hack the stuff up, but all that does is cut your innards up... bad."
She puffs out her cheeks. "Well, your mum's right - maybe. I bought this shop when I moved here a dozen years ago, from someone who'd inherited it from her grandmother. Now she was a funny one, the grandmother I mean. Her journals are in the back, strange mix of practical herb-lore, empirical alchemy and a whole bunch of hoojoo. The story goes she traded her sight to Ulizmila, the hag that used to live deep in the woods, in exchange for knowledge. Anyway, the journal has a brew in it that claims it's good for blackscour taint, weird concoction that sounds more like hoojoo than real alchemy."
She grimaces, and stifles a yawn. "Sorry, can't remember the last time I slept! Anyway, hoojoo or not I'm desperate enough that I'd give it a try but I don't have what I need to make it. Elderwood moss - Barlus gets it occasionally, no idea where from, last batch I had from him was a couple of years ago. A pickled root called rat's tail, which the book claims is something Ulizmila prepared for her own uses. No idea where to get that - even if it is a real thing. And finally I'd need some ironbloom mushrooms. Ha, now those are real and they do dampen necromantic energy, but I've never heard of them being put in a concoction like this. They're stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, a favorite among dwarves, if I remember right."
"So there you have it: two things that are real but I've no idea where to get them, and one thing I've never heard of and also don't know where to get it. The only reason I'm even telling you this bit of false hope is because..." She stares straight at Siobhan. "I'll never forgive your mum what she did... and seeing her in town here, day after day, it just reminds me what I lost. But as a priest, she's the real deal. If she says the Inheritor told her I have the answer, then this is the answer. But damned if I know what to do with it!"
She gives you all an expressive shrug.
You've all heard the stories and rhymes about Ulizmila, the witch of the woods, and her cabal of harpies, and how the war with Falcon's Hollow was ended when the Larko family made a truce by marriage. The location of the hag-haunted hollow, where Ulizmila lived (or possibly still lives?), is known to you; although almost nobody visits the place (not even on a dare) out of fear what lies there. It's about a day's travel from town.
Vyana knows how to find it, it's one of Barlus' preferred spots; although he makes a point of never entering the witch's cottage ("There's no upside to messing with things you don't understand.").
This is the furthest and deepest into the woods that Barlus has ever taken you and the half-dozen or so others that form his little group of proteges. It's not somewhere you would want to have ventured without his protection, and every night you have lit fires around your camp for light and defence as well as for warmth. The other night, your fire was the first to light and the little nod that Barlus gave you (the acknowledgement of a job done, and done well) sent sparks through your body; you've been crushing on him so hard that you haven't really been paying attention to where you're going, and when the trees thin out into a clearing, you're focused more on him than on the tree he's pointing to.
"This elder darkwood tree is the oldest of its kind in these woods. They say it was carried as a sapling from the First World and planted here in the distant past by Deirzir, the Eagle of The First Way and that the whole of Darkmoon Vale grew from this tree." He shrugs; this is the most he's talked on the whole trip out here. "I couldn't say one way or the other, but it's a place that deserves respect." He's trying to make an important point, but he's not used to giving speeches. "Look, in town, they see trees as lumber, yeah? Something to use. And we need wood, and fire, and steel. But Erastil tells us a tree is worth more than just the wood we cut it down for." Another nod. "So yeah. Just remember that."
Having run out of words, he walks up to one of the lower boughs that's draped in moss and starts to collect it, wrapping it up and packing it into his backpack. "Elderwood moss. Makes for good bandages and wraps." He looks at you all. "Alright, next lesson. Who's going to lead the way back to town?"
(Oh, the tree? Yeah, it was probably quite impressive. You don't really remember it.)