Gameplay thread here.
.
yo
OK. Now that everyone is here who will be joining us, let's plan on starting the story this weekend.
Plague has come to the lumber town of Falcon's Hollow. Many residents have been afflicted with a hacking cough. Several of the elderly and very young have already died, and many more are sick. The village herbalist, Laurel, showed the town leaders that the sickness was coming from one of the springs that residents were getting drinking water from. The sheriff and his helpers have forbidden the use of that water. Since then, no one else has gotten sick, and a few have gotten better, but many elderly and young are still dangerously ill. The usual remedies aren't helping, and magic from the town's cleric, Lady Cirthana, also seems useless against Blackscour Taint.
Riwaka doesn't have a lot of friends in the town, he lives a bit on the outskirts. But he is fond of one of his neighbors who works a small mill, a halfling named Lenny who lives with his wife Dess. Riwaka found it a bit funny that the little fellow worked such a physically demanding job, but the halfling was talented at more detailed work, and often was contracted for ornate carvings for use in higher end furniture.
Lenny and Dess both came down with the plague, completely bedridden. Riwaka helped care for them, mostly unaffected with only a very mild case. Lenny recovered, but Dess passed away, and Riwaka feels like he failed his friend, though Lenny tries to assure him that he bears no blame.
Tsaer Greycloak has noticed that some of the animals have gotten sick with a strange disease. It's not nearly as fatal to animals as to people, but Tsaer is concerned that people may be in danger, and so has come into town to investigate.
Pokey and Shanko have also come into town to investigate the plague, because they want to be sure they are not being blamed.
Riwaka is concerned, because his friend Dess died from the plague, and Lenny is still ill. He is trying to find a cure for his friend.
All of you know that Laurel, the herbalist, is the one most likely to know what to do, because the local cleric has said she can't help. You have all just approached her shop.
Creeping ivy and full window boxes cover the facade of the rugged-looking, two-story shop bearing the faded sign "Roots and Remedies." A line of about twenty somber townsfolk- some with pale, wheezing children, others seeming to be precipitously near tears- stretches from the open door.
Riwaka is annoyed and yet unsurprised to see such a long line. He smells something rank, and looks down to see Pokey and Shanko. "Ugh I thought I smelled the dump. Shouldn't you two be hiding lest the townsfolk take up their torches and pitchforks against you. I suppose they probably only need a table fork." He begins to smirk at his own clever joke but catches himself and asks "Apologies, but why HAVE you come?"
Riwaka glares at the rodents. "No blood of a demon, just a fallen angel. Just like how you resemble a rat, and not some more pleasant creature. But if you do want to help then come along with me. I'm trying to save a friend."
He notices Tsaer as he gets into line. "Hail hunter, any news from the forest? Are you here for a root or a remedy?"
Riwaka also starts to listen in if the surrounding townsfolk say anything out of the ordinary.
Tsaer hung a bit away from the crowds, simply watching things, though he did allow a smirk to settle on his lips at the Aasimar and two rodentfolk taking snipes at each other. But while the trio were mildly amusing, the ranger had come here for a specific purpose, and not listening to the petty squabbles of the townsfolk. No, he had come to find out answers about what was causing the animals, and others, to be sick.
He was slightly surprised to have the Aasimar speak to him and he took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Neither. I'm here to find answers as to what is causing the woodland creatures, and everyone else, to be sick.”
Riwaka approaches the older man in front of the group. "Excuse me sir, I overheard you say that the herbalist managed to locate a stream that she thinks is to blame for the plague. Do you know where the stream is?"
The old man turns to look at Riwaka. He has what appears to be his grand daughter coughing in his arms. "It's Brookman's Well, on the edge of town. That's why they're not letting anyone near the stream. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask Laurel."
All the people in line in front of you turn around, glaring. One or two who have walking sticks or other things that could be used as weapons grip them more tightly. Then they all go back to what they were already doing. You get the impression that unless you want to hack your way through desperate villagers, you'll have to wait your turns.
After Pokey announces his intended ascent to hero status, Riwaka has an idea. He leans down ans whispers to Pokey "Play along..."
Riwaka then grabs Shanko roughly and starts to drag him toward the door. Listen to Pokey everyone! This other rat is patient zero! We have to take him to Laurel so we can find the cure."
Slowly, all the villagers in front of you in line move off to the side to let you past.
Riwaka releases his grip on Shanko when they get inside the store, and glances back to see if any of the others have followed. He tells Laurel that he and the rat are hoping to help find the cure. "... And so we've heard that Bookman's Well is the where you found to be the source. I know you are very busy trying to keep up with treatments in town, but if you can share what you know, then maybe we can pick up with the investigation of the origins of the plague."
Tsaer blinked down at the commotion before him though he knew that speaking to Laurel would be the wisest course of action. He just wasn't sure that how they did it was the best way of doing so. But he wasn't about to let the opportunity to help pass him by so he followed after the trio, muttering apologies as he went.
He nodded his agreement to what both the of the rats and the Aasimar said, adding, ”It is also affecting the nearby animals, just not to the same extent.” Maybe this bit of knowledge would help them figure out what exactly was happening.
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 purpose. 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, a rail-thin woman with severe-looking spectacles and hair pulled back tightly busies herself between an overpacked rack of herbs, a table covered in stray powders and measuring equipment, and a pot loudly bubbling over with a thick gray froth. Over the din of her work and without looking up, the woman impatiently shouts "And what's your problem?" when you enter the room.
Laurel listens carefully as you explain the situation. "What I can tell you is this. The illness is caused by a fungus called blackscour. It's hard, bitter, and sharp. It likes the water and gets you sick if you drink it down. Never heard of it growing around these parts before. If you drink water with the fungus, it starts growing inside you, and your body nearly turns itself inside out trying to hack the stuff up. The coughing just ends up cutting up your insides. More than thirty people from the village are ill, and many more imagine they are. We don't know of any cure, but I'm doing what I can for folks to ease their symptoms, so some can get better."
Laurel looks at you speculatively. "Actually, there might be another possibility. My grandmother's remedy book mentions a formula that it claims is good for this sort of thing. It's a weird concoction, and doesn't sound like any medicine I've ever heard of. However, if you would be willing to go find the ingredients, it might be worth a try."
"My friend is sick, and I fear without a real cure will soon follow his wife to the grave. If you think there's a chance for this cure, let me help you find it."
"If you can bring me elderwood moss, a pickled root called rat's tail, and seven ironbloom mushrooms, I can mix up the cure."
"If rats like you are able to help, our town would be glad of the help. I didn't name the rat's tail, so I can't rename it for the sake of one sensitive rat."
He couldn't help the grimace at hearing exactly what the fungus did to a person. But he held back commenting for Laurel to finish explaining about it. He had never heard of blacksour but then again he was not an expert on such things. But he nodded in agreement to helping find the ingredients. It sounded like something right up his alley. ”Of course.”
The names of the ingredients however were unfamiliar to him, though he might know what they look like just not the name of them. His brow furrowed. ”I have not heard of those plants before. What do they look like?”
"Elderwood moss I've never heard of before, but Granny's book says that it grows on the oldest tree in the forest.
The rat's tail is something else I've never heard of, but if anyone would know about them, it's the mean old witch Ulizmila. My granny traded her sight for a few formulas with Ulizmila years ago. She might know where rat's tail is, or even have some.
The ironbloom mushrooms are stunty little things that only grow in dark places thick with metal, and are favorite foods of dwarves. A bunch of dwarves used to live way north toward the mountains. They're not there anymore, but their forges probably are. If you can find ironbloom anywhere around here, that's your best bet."
Tsaer knowledge geography:
Tsaer knowledge nature:
Ratz knowledge nature:
Tsaer, you know where Ulizmila's hut and the eldest tree are. Rat Boyz, you know where the Dwarven Monastery is located. Ulizmila's hut is closest, so since time is an issue, if there are no objections, I will assume you go there first.
Riwaka agrees with the course of action. "Do you all need any preparations? We could leave to find the witch in the morning"
It's still pretty early in the morning, and there's something else going on mechanically that you guys should be warned about. Each day before you get back with the ingredients, I roll to see how many townspeople die. I also roll to see if Riwaka's friend has died. I won't get into all the details, but it is to your benefit to go as far as you can each day.
Erm if it's early then Riwaka didn't say that.
"Do you all need any preparations? We should leave to find this witch as soon as possible."
You spend most of the day journeying to Ulizmila's hut. On the way, you see a snake slither past. He disappears into the woods, and you get to Ulizmila's hut in the late afternoon. The sounds of the forest become suddenly distant as the trees part, opening into a small, almost perfectly circular glade. The nearest stands of pine, eyln, and darkwood—all
typically sturdy woods—twist away from the clearing, as if bent by some impossibly strong wind or seemingly in an attempt to flee despite their paralyzed roots. At the glade’s center squats an ugly cottage, little more than a pile of twigs, shoots, and ivy stacked upon mud walls. From the thatched roof dangle bundles of gnarled roots, old dried beast carcasses, and knucklebone bangles, all clattering together like gruesome wind chimes. A dozen small thatched fetishes—each shaped like
a tiny man, imp, or rearing serpent—stand propped in the yard, keeping guard before a rickety plank door.
The snake was a giant moorsnake. It's harmless during the day, and only attacks at night. The fetishes are harmless scarecrows.
"This place so far is more bark than bite. Let's enter and see about this witch. Hopefully she'll be at least somewhat cooperative."
Inside, the cottage is dank, reeking, and filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung shelves line the walls, covered in all manner of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a museum of other crude curios and remnants of a bone grinder’s artifice. A rusted iron cauldron, with a mouth nearly 5 feet wide and a depth of at least 3 feet, dominates the hut’s single room, its ash-covered surface shaped with a relief of capering fiends and leering devils. Across from the door, against the far walls, stands a highbacked chair made of wicker, the gigantic curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and thousands of human teeth. In the chair sits what looks like a corpse wrapped in filthy burial linens, its form padded with pungent herbs and sprouting patches of thick white mold.
The corpse is actually a bundle of sticks, mud, and linen. (I'm assuming that you look at it carefully to see this.)
A quick glance doesn't reveal the rat's tail. There are just too many piles of things all around the room. I'm assuming that you guys will look around carefully for it. Do you want to take longer but avoid touching anything, or go fast?
You take 20 minutes to look carefully at all the piles of stuff, and find a jar labelled 'RATS' TAIL.' It's on a shelf with nothing piled on top or leaning against it.
"Should we take this and get out of here or try and find the witch? Some of the implements here make me think we don't want to meet her if we can help it."