"So where do you want to go," Gina asked Julian after they had exited the tent.

"I have no idea.  I must have missed the tourist map at the entrance."

Julian swiveled his head around to take in the majesty of the elven sewer empire, nodding appreciatively.

"Let's go, uh... that way."

He pointed in a random direction with a wave of his hand.

As you wandered the elven camp, you saw more of the same. Tents, lean tos, elves going about their daily lives. No exitement. No alcohol.

"Well, that's about the saddest group of elves I think I've ever run across.  Unfortunate, really.  I had hoped for a realization of the legends of happy, joyful people."

A morose look crossed Julian's face and he was genuinely sad.  So, he pointed at a random, nearby collection of rocks and turned them a bright array of wild colors.  Amused, he blasted a few more piles of stones and then finally Gina's boots for good measure.

"Never say I've never done anything for you."

Gina looked at her boots.

"Nice," Gina said. "This will be the height of fashion at the Yule ball. And you have to dance with me of course," she added and fluttered her eyelashes very femininely.

"Now you realize that obligates you, right?  Dancin' ahoy.  Don't try to back out of that, even when I show up in my fancy Paladine-the-Giftgiver outfit.  Let's get back to the others before Marcus makes a move on the knight.  Squire.  Whatever."

He winked at Gina and made his way back to the lovely tent they were supposed to occupy, only occasionally marring the dreadful blackness of the place with a splash of color.

As you were on your way back to the tent where the others waited, an elderly female elf approached you.

"Are you adventurers," she asked.

"I prefer to think of myself as a legendary hero of legendary blood, but yes, adventurer is the common shorthand.  Gina here is my lovely companion-in-arms."

He put an arm around Gina and with his free hand made what he felt would be an appropriately heroic fist to complement his heroic pose.

"Why?  Need someone to heroically splash some color around here?  Or just need some adventurin'?"

"A sickness has come over us," she said. "One we cannot heal. If you could return with something that could help us, we would be in your debt."

"A sickness?  I'm not much of a healer, but I'll help out if I can.  If I could make a suggestion, maybe you'd be healthier living somewhere other than the sewers?  I mean, I'm sure the rent price is right and you're always assured of conveniently short trips to the bathroom late at night but still, living down here has gotta carry a toll."

He looked around the place.

"Painting everything black probably doesn't help your mood either.  Have you tried a soft pastel instead?"

"Indeed," the elderly elven woman said. "Just look around." As Julian and Gina looked around, they noted that the elven population did indeed seem afflicted by something.

"But we have good healers among us. I'm one of them. But we have't found anything that will work. Not even the powers of the gods. It's like the War of the Lance all over again."

"And regarding our accomodations, we don't have much of a choice."

"Well, you could leave Pashin.  Are you really stuck on staying here?  It hardly seems like a good place to call home... within a week on a barge you could be upriver to Hatl or Ak-Krin, though I'd choose Ak-Krin.  Hatl is bound to more similar to Pashin if not less accommodating."

He paused to consider the plight of the elves.  All joking aside, they really were in a bad spot and Julian was essentially a good soul.  It was hard to ignore the woman's request.

"So you're saying that magic healing doesn't do anything?  I guess that rules out the surroundings as being the source.  Have you somehow offended the gods maybe?  Does your magic still work on other things and just not this disease?  Have you seen other elves from elsewhere with the same disease?  Maybe its related to being away from the forest."  He leaned in a little and dropped his volume.  "Maybe you pissed off Morgion somehow?"

"Our magic doesn't help," she said. "And we really don't want to leave Pashin, as that would spread the disease. Not that we actually know how it spreads. And other than this disease, our magic is fine."

"As if Morgion actually needs a reason to dislike us."

"Well, if I find something, I'll be sure to bring it back here.  Any idea what I'm looking for?  If not, I'll just try my best.  In the meantime I'd do a real accounting of all the gods you've made angry recently since it sounds to me like that's where your problem is.  If your magic works in general but not on this specifically, then its got to be a really unique spiritual problem rather than just some kind of affliction," Julian added in an astoundingly lucid monologue for the otherwise rakish traveler.

"Like, when did this start?  Or at least when did you notice it starting?  Have you divined that?  Maybe the fact that you don't have a cure for it comes from not knowing its source.  I assume its unlike any more normal diseases you've heard about?"

"Thank you," she said. "Unfortunately we do not know. But one could only assume that there is some artifact of Mishakal out there that could help us. Or a cleric more powerful than I to cast the necessary spells. And we are who we are, the gods doesn't change their opinion of us any faster than we Silvanesti change. And we haven't changed."

"We're not sure when it started. But some feel that it is an after effect of the Shield. And if that is so, we can only blame ourselves for falling to the glamors of Cyan Bloodbane."

Julian thanked her for her time and beat a hasty exit.

"I will do everything I can, your grace."

When he made it out of earshot he leaned in to Gina and whispered.

"These people are screwed.  Let's get back to the others and try to leave as quickly as possible.  DISEASE!"

He shuddered emphatically for added emphasis.

"I agree," Gina said.

[OOC: You can join the main thread now if you like. And to make things interesting we might say that you hear what Kris says when you enter the tent.]