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Emerging from the Sitting Duck, Drint, Fyjndel, Girther and Quince see a lot of people hurrying by, ignoring the proselytizing raggedy-clothed preacher at the corner, bowl filled with meager coins at his feet.
In a hoarse voice, the preacher addresses his imaginary audience, “Brothers and sisters, repent your wicked ways! Give proper obeisance to the gods!
Pointing at Drint, Fyjndel, Girther and Quince, “Do not be deluded that your quest for material gain will save you from their wrath! I tell you now brother and sisters that unless you change they will pour the bowl of their anger upon this cursed earth and wreak their vengeance upon you!
The tone and timbre of the preacher’s voice suddenly changes. Suggesting a firm and resolute character, the preacher declares, “Brothers and sisters! There is a darkness beneath the earth we stand on. Your faithlessness feeding its hunger, giving it strength.” The preacher then collapses like a house of cards. A Good Samaritan rushes to his side.
Drint glares at the priest. A madman, obviously.
Fjyndel is surprised by the preachers speach, and wanted to answer to him, just as he collapsed. He looks at the preacher falling over, then decides to help him, running towards him.
Seeing the good samaritan already on his way to the man he slows down a little, just enough to not trip some hurrying people, who might have not noticed the little one.
Girther follows Fjyndel toward the collapsed preacher. The preacher’s words have struck a cord with Girther. He looks on hoping to speak with the man.
Drint glares at his companions. "Why do you help him? He issss a lier and a fanatic. Let ussss leave him here. The sssstupidity of ssssaying that we are going to do hissss bidding. i don't even believe in hissss godssss--nevermind."
He looks uncomfortable on the subject of religion.
"Believeing or not, I may be able to help this man." responds the gnome.
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The Good Samaritan notices Drint, Fjyndel, Girther and Quince for the first time. He props up the preacher against the side of a nearby building. He smiles and says, "Strangers, please look after the old man, while I go get the healer." The Good Samaritan departs quickly into the forming crowd.
Fjyndel quickly checks if he can help the preacher.
If necessary, he attempts to cast Cure Light Wounds.
Girther kneels next to the man and provides what little comfort he can. He speaks to the prophet, saying, “Why do you call me an unbeliever? I am a loyal and faithful follower of Torag. Why did you say that evil lurks beneath our feet?”
Spot check: 1d20=16
Quince goes over to the man as well, even though he isn't sure he can do anything to help.
He kneels down next to Fjyndel and Girther and offers the man a drink from his waterskin.
"Maybe I should run back to the inn to get him something a little stronger?"
Fjyndel concentrates on his nature-senses and after uttering some syllables he searches after poisons, which may have sickened the preacher.
"Now where is that healer? I am not really able to help this man, but at least he is not injured or poisoned. It seems to be a disease." reports the gnome to anyone listening, but more to himself.
Disgusted, Drint runs over. "He is afflicted with madness. Leave him. You will be doing a service to the world by letting him die."
All the same, he peers at the man. It is simply not his nature to let someone die. Not after--
No, he tells himself, no need to think of that.
Girther listens to his friends speak. He begins to try to make sense of what is going on. Girther confers with Quince and tells his friend that he thinks water would be best at the moment.
Girther is surprised and a little worried to hear that the prophet is suffering from some sort of disease. “Are you sure?” he asks Fjyndel.
As Drint speaks Girther turns to listen. He stands and approaches the kobold. He squares himself and looks Drint in the eyes while slowly placing one hand on the kobolds shoulder. “You may speak truth, kobold, but what harm is there in trying to help if help is within our means?” he says.
To the group he says, “Is there something wrong with this picture? Is it possible that the man who helped the prophet earlier is not coming back?” Sharing a sudden insight Girther blurts out, “Perhaps the good Samaritan cursed the prophet.”
“I don’t know how to help this man”, says Girther finally. “Is there some place of healing that we might take him?” Girther begins to inspect the man looking for holy symbols or clues to which temple the man might call home.
Despite himself, Drint says, "Perhaps there is a more logical explanation that that the man 'cursed' him."
"I am as new to this town as you are... Hopefully there is a church or temple or healing house around, but I would not know.
I am pretty sure that it must be some kind of disease, for I can not think of anything else, and as the man has no injuries and is clearly not poisoned... though I do not know if a curse can do something similar.
Any ideas? I mean, I can try to attend to his symptoms, but that does not cure his disease."
"Then it's up to us to find this man a healer."
Quince stands up and accosts a passing townsperson that looks slightly less unfriendly than everyone else. "We have a man here in need of a healer. Can you tell us the way to the closest one?"
Diplomacy 20
Drint pleads with the townsman despite his disdain for the priest. When the man points to the shop, Drint thanks him and gives him a gold piece in gratitude.
Fjyndel is rather surprised by the golden tongue the kobold shows to get the informations needed. He thanks the townsmen as well, then turns to Girther asking: "Would you mind helping me with him?" pointing to the preacher and starting to haul him over.
While draging the man to the shop he asks himself, why he didn't notice the sign of 'Roots and Remedies'.
Quince is impressed with the kobold's eloquence as well.
Seeing that Girther and Fjyndel have the preacher in hand, he says, "I'll run ahead to let the healer know we're coming," and dashes off towards the shop.
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The faded sign of the Roots and Remedies is covered by various vegetation as the front of the shop is converted to a make-shift garden. Common herbs, spices and vegetables are there as well as other plants whose names escape you at the moment.
Knowledge (nature) DC 20
The door stands open. Entering the shop, Quince could smell the scents of a thousand, thousand different herbs and spices contained in the various drawers of the shop cabinets and hanging from the ceiling, making his nostrils itchy.
A middle-aged bespectacled woman stands behind the counter. Her hair is tied into a ponytail. As she smiles, Quince notices the lines of wisdom etched into her sun-burned face. “Hello. What can I do for you?” She asks.
Meanwhile, Drint, Fjyndel and Girther drag the body of the preacher to the Roots and Remedies whose shallow, labored breathing seem to punctuate each step, drawing the stares of numerous passersby. A group of five human teens has taken an interest in their activity. "Hey, mister! Is that a dead man you're carrying?," asks a teen whose face is covered in grime.
DC 10 Spot Check
Spot 18
"Not yet, girl, but he will be if we do not get him healed from whatever disease that ails him!"
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With a look of disappointment, the girl says, "Oh. Me and the boys were hoping that you are carrying a dead body, 'cause that would be so cool."
Smiling the girl continues, "You guys are adventurers, right? I'm Kimi and my father is Idris Eavewalker also an adventurer. And I'll grow up just like him, an adventurer."
Quince skids to a halt inside the shop. To the bespectacled woman he says:
"Are you the healer? There was a man in the square who suddenly collapsed. We think he may have some disease. My friends are bringing him here now."
Girther enters the shop and looks around for a suitable spot to lay down the prophet. He then returns to the door of the shop. If the group of kids is nearby he glowers at them. He also commits the names Kimi and Idris Eavewalker as well as Kimi’s face to memory.
Knowledge (Nature) +8; Spot +3 (1d20+8=15, 1d20+3=6)
Fjyndel is too occupied draging the preacher to notice the plants and the girl. But he is very interested in the herbs and spices in Laurels shop. Following his profession he forgets the preacher for a moment looking at the various roots and powders.
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Laurel the Healer immediately takes charge of the patient, checking his pulse and temperature. She could be heard muttering to herself words like “jaundiced” and “inconceivable.” Thereafter, she stands up and pulls out a delicate-looking scroll from one of the shelves, “Perhaps, a solution can be found here.”
Turning to Fjyindel, “Master gnome, you appear to be one who knows something about herblore. Perhaps, you can assist me in gathering some of these ingredients.” She hands a list of plants, herbs and roots to Fjyindel which he immediately recognizes.
Meanwhile, the teens hover outside the Roots and Remedies excited by the unfolding life-or-death situation.
"So what's wrong with him?" Quince asks Laurel. "Will he be all right?"
Quince sketches a small bow. "Quince Darkivy, at your service."
Meanwhile, the teens hover outside the Roots and Remedies excited by the unfolding life-or-death situation.** spoiler omitted **
Girther scans the area.
Drint watches, concerned by this struggle that he does not wholly understand.
"I don't know. I am afraid that thissss shall not end well, but...I don't know."
Quince covers his nose and mouth with a handkerchief as the horrible smell reaches him. A disturbing thought suddenly occurs to him.
"You don't think it's...contagious...do you?" he asks Laurel, and looks longingly to where Drint and Girther stand outside, in the fresh air.
Girther waits patiently for his chance to be examined. He stays by the door while he is waiting and keeps an eye on the kids. The thought of a contagious disease being on the loose in Falcon’s Hollow begins to cause him some concern.
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Laurel performs several routine procedures to examine the party and the teens. She pronounces that everyone appear to be in perfect health but she asks that anyone feeling sick within next couple of days should immediately go to her. "That includes you kids."
Laurel continues, "There is nothing more that can be done for this man except to wait. Perhaps, you could escort these kids to their homes. I'm sure their families will appreciate the gesture."
"Well and good then."
Quince turns to the kids, giving them a low bow with a flourish. "I am Quince Darkivy of Riddleport, and this is Risk." He gestures towards the fox at his feet. "If we are to be your escorts home, it is only fitting we know our charges. So introduce yourselves - adventure awaits on the mean streets of Falcon's Hollow!"
Drint still looks concerned. "Do you think he'll be all right? Are you ssssertain nothing more can be done?"
Seeing the others likely confused looks, he adds, "As the dwarf said, losing a life is not something to be done purposefully."