The woman looks up, surprised and leery of the kindness.  Something about you convinces her and she decides to trust.  She takes your hand and allows you to help her up.  "He...my baby is very sick.  The Wasting Illness has him." Her voice is a whisper.  She gulps and casts her eyes to the ground before speaking again.  "As it has us all."

She steals a look at you from beneath hear lashes.  Under all the grime and apparent lack of food, she would be a very beautiful young woman.  "Thank you for your kindness.  It is a rare jewel these days."  With that, she shakes a bit of the excess mud from her skirt and turns to leave.

Ourn watches the woman leave, and takes in his surroundings. He decides to try and find an alchemist, or some type of healer, if this town has anyone who can even call themselves such. Given the look of things, he is doubtful.

The town is empty for the most part, not run down by any means, but there is litter in the streets and shops are closed.  It's mid-morning and many should be open.  Something in the air is not quite right.  Though the town feels abandoned, it feels as if it were just abandoned yesterday.

It does not take too long to find a shop with the appropriate shingle swinging out front in the morning breeze.  The shop looks well maintained despite the lack of activity in the town.  This door is open, though there is no one at the counter at the moment.

You ring the bell and a muffled voice calls from the back, a female voice.

After a few moments, the woman from before comes through the doorway into the back, wiping her hands on a towel.  Her dress is still stained with mud.  When she sees you her eyes narrow and she stops.  "You again.  Did you follow me?  What do you want?"

Ourn is slightly taken aback by the chance meeting.

"No miss, I haven't followed you. You spoke of the Wasting Illness. I wanted to find a healer, or someone who might know of the finer details of the illness, and request information..."

"Oh, forgive my poor manners"

Ourn bows.

"My name is Ourn Garamune. I am currently traveling on errand for my liege. My path has lead me here, to where I can plainly see there is a plight at hand. I find no coincidence in the matter, and would like to lend my assistance if possible. My stay must be brief, but if in any way I can assist you, the sick child, or your people, then please let me know"

Ourn mentally kicks himself for giving his real name. He is sure that Haethar would nearly thrash him about being so loose lipped to a stranger.

"I am Mairen, the apothecary for Dunston.  Forgive my reticence but as you have observed, an evil wind blows through our town these days.  Something out of legend."  She sits on a stool behind her counter and invites you to take one across from her.  Her dark tresses are matted with sweat.  Mud splatter has been poorly wiped from her face.  Eyes that have seen much sorrow in recent days are sunken into her head, surrounded by bags so thick they seem bruises rather than exhaustion.

Her voice is weak and soft as if it is a great effort to speak.  However, she presses on, desperate to lift the burden that weighs so heavily on her.  "The Wasting Illness came from the fallen star.  It landed in the spring not far from here.  Men went to investigate and went mad.  Something about the star gives people strength, endurance, a preternatural ability to heal from all manner of wounds, even those that should be fatal.  Others are incapable of feeling pain.  All this comes at a terrible price.  Those who do not share in their power who are in proximity suffer the Wasting Illness.  I have come to the conclusion that they draw their extraordinary abilities from those around them.  The closer in proximity you are, the faster you are drained.  Those fools at the spring won't leave, begging to join the ranks of Faelorn's men, but he only leads them on so they'll stay near."

She pauses, breathing heavily at the effort to speak so many words all at once.  Her eyes close and she gulps as she tries to fortify herself to finish.  "I pray that your quest does not lead you to the spring.  You will only find death and madness there.  They are cannibals, Faelorn and his men.  They say a cook pot large enough to hold an adult is always with them.  There is always someone in it, usually a female.  If I had the strength and the resources to do so, I would move...head east to the duchies there.  Alas, I can not take more than a stroll down the street."  She pauses and lays her forehead on her hands, her elbows on the counter.  "Sorry...I just need...to catch my breath."
This message was last updated by the player at 04:51, Thu 12 Nov 2015.

" That's... well, that's horrible. One thing isn't quite clear to me though. If what you're saying is true and correct, and if this Faelorn fellow and his vile men can be removed from the site of the Fallen star, a balance will be restored and there is a chance that the Wasting Illness can be dispelled?"

Ourn's brow furrows as he tries to take in everything and make sense of it, while trying not to think of the horrors of cannibalism.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:01, Thu 12 Nov 2015.

"I don't know that such is the case.  It sounds logical, but something about this is beyond knowledge and reason.  It reminds me of the old legends of magic and wizards and such."

There is a muffled coo or cry from the back.  "Ah, that would be Daven.  If you need a place to stay that you can trust, I have an upper room.  I won't charge you for the night-" she hesitates, then makes a choice to trust further.  "It's not a long term offer, but a few nights I can spare.  The door is on the outside and has no access to the first floor or the shop, which will be locked at night.  I don't have the food to spare to offer you meals, even if you could pay.  The town is drying up and no one is doing their job any more."

Mairen heads to the back to see to her son while you make up your mind about staying.  When she returns, she is visibly saddened.  Daven is nursing and barely moves.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:58, Thu 12 Nov 2015.

Ourn avoids making eye contact with Daven's nursing, and instead focuses his view to parts around the shop.

"I will stay for a night or so. Only long enough to gather the proper information I need for this ordeal. Is there anyone in town who might have known this Faelorn before he took to his new life of savagery?"

Mairen thinks for a moment.  "He had a wife.  I don't know if she is still alive.  I haven't seen her since Faelorn left.  His father is still alive, though.  He lives on a farm about a day to the south of here."  She sketches out a rough map on a small parchment of where to find Faelorn's house.  There is indication of a wagon-worn road leading out of town to the south which she indicates runs near Faelorn's father's farm.  "You can see the farmhouse and barn from the road in the distance, but you have to keep an eye out for it.  It's hilly in that region.  His name is Vanter."

She heads to the back and returns without the baby, who makes no sound of protest the entire time.  In hand she has a small lock box, which she opens and retrieves a key.  "Here.  This is to the room upstairs.  I'm sorry I cannot help you more."

Ourn takes the key, and then starts looking at the crude map.

"Do not be sorry, you've done quite enough as it is. Not only have you pointed me in the right direction for my own affairs, but you've given me warning of a danger that I'd have never known of and walked right in to. To cap off the generosity, you've offered me a place to rest. I am in your debt, and I should hope and pray that by The One, my actions in the coming days will be some form of repayment."

Ourn smiles, in an attempt to show graciousness.

"I do have another question for you though. The wife of Faelorn, assuming she's still alive... were they citizens here in town as well?"

She nods.  "Yes.  All of the men with Faelorn originally were citizens here.  He has since likely taken others who have wandered in from afar."

The conversation has left her exhausted and she is visibly shaking, though she tries to present a brave front to you.  If you continue the conversation, she's going to have to do it lying prone on the floor from exhaustion.

Ourn notices how tired Mairen looks.

" Please, go and rest now. I'll leave you be. Thank you again for your hospitality "

With that, Ourn excuses himself and heads back out into the street. He tries to find what would be a main road, in an attempt to find an inn or a tavern, with the hopes that it will still be staffed. His intentions are to question at least one other on the matter to try and verify his current information, and see to it that any potential missing pieces are found.

There is a tavern/inn.  Inside is as empty as the streets save for one young man lethargically cleaning the bar.  It's not that he is lazy.  Gaunt features and swollen bags under his eyes indicate the same Wasting Illness has him in its grips.  He looks up at you with surprise, then his eyes narrow, probably at your relatively good health.

"Leave now, stranger.  There ain't nothin' but sickness and death here."  His voice is a rasp, only heard because the room is otherwise completely silent.

" I'm well aware of the unfortunate circumstances your town faces, sir. I have come seeking information, and if you'll be kind enough to share it with me, I'll be on my way and leave you be. I wanted to inquire on the known location of the man called Faelorn's wife. I'm also well aware of the nefarious deeds he carries out with his men. If you can share any knowledge of him, his spouse, or even the strength of his numbers, I would be forever in your debt "

Ourn prepares himself to make an exit if the man is uncooperative, as he doesn't want to cause any stir or ruckus.

He shrugs.  "Your pyre.  I know Faelorn.  He leads the Star Bones, the group that found the fallen star out at the spring.  Supposed to heal the Wasting Illness or whatever the thing is called.  That's where most of the town is.  Looking for healing." He scratches his nose idly and continues wiping laconically at the bar.  "Don't know much about his wife.  Heard she got sick early on.  May have died from it."

"As for the numbers, Faelorn took near twenty men with him to find the star.  Numbers might have grown since then considering he has the star and controls the healing."

"Thank you for your time."

Ourn exits the tavern, and takes a look at the sun to get a bearing on what time of day it is.

Thinking to himself, he summarizes details. Faelorn, with the rumored number of men - even 20 would be too great a threat - and their supposed healing and vitality powers, will prove to be a superior opponent to meet head on. Using a loved one in person, such as Faelorn's wife or father, is out of the question at this point. What with the sickness that's plaguing the area, finding one is sounding impossible, and if the other is elderly, bringing him along is also a poor idea. If the old man isn't already infected with illness, bringing him closer to the affected area would be a terrible thing to do; baring he'd even agree to come along or humor a request for information. Still though, he may know something or have something that could snap Faelorn back into a reality that's palatable to the average man. The odds aren't in favor of this outcome, but then again, strange things like stars falling and spreading plague whilst granting healing powers is a reality after all. Ultimately, and somehow, the obstacle of Faelorn and his cannibalistic band of fiends will have to be dealt with. Force isn't an option, and there is much doubt that he can be reasoned with beyond joining his ranks. This would provide a good cover, but then what? He'd notice the lack of sickness firstly. He'd also notice the revulsion to cannibalism. His suspicions would lead him to expose me.  There's the chance for whatever madness has a hold on them to spread to my person as well. Gathering my own group of men wont do either, on account of a severe lack of able bodied people here.

Ourn lets out a long sigh, and leans against a post outside of the tavern, and speaks quietly to himself.

" I suppose my only real option is to seek out Faelorn's father. But do I have enough daylight to make the trip..."

Ourn frowns. Then his eyes widen.

" I can't rule out yet the possibility that Mairen is connected to Faelorn in some way either. Though the bartender didn't seem to mention anything about the two, I need to also find out who exactly is the father of Mairen's child... Haethar would kick me in the stomach if he knew how much this town's woes were racking my thoughts. ".
This message was last edited by the player at 07:38, Fri 13 Nov 2015.

The sun has reached its zenith in the sky.  It is the beginning of the afternoon.

Ourn decided it best to travel out to Faelorn's father's farm in the early morn. In the mean time, he intended to assist Mairen and to rest before the coming trials.

Back at the shop, Mairen doesn't have anything for you to do.  There really is no business.  Instead, she closes the shop with the sun going down and goes to bed.

The room upstairs is clean, but sparsely furnished.  Rest is fitful and in the morning you wake feeling more tired than when you went to sleep.  It's a chore just to get out of bed.  Breakfast doesn't appeal to you, but you force yourself to eat anyway, knowing its necessity.  Dressed and locked up, you find yourself at the bottom of the stairs, looking wearily at the day ahead.

Ourn heads out to his horse, and makes for the road that will take him to the farm.

The road is in open country, rolling low hills and grasslands.  There are a few farms at first, then no civilization except for the occasional sign post.  Late afternoon brings you to a well worn side path and off in the distance an large homestead.  Smoke rises from the chimney while cattle lo in the fields.

Ourn rides up to the house, in search of its owner.

"Hail!" he calls out, waiting for a reply.

An elderly man walks out of the house.  He nods your way and closes the door to the house behind him.  "Evening, stranger.  What can I do for you?"  He seems weathered with age, but otherwise healthy.  His voice is strong and even.

"I wish to speak with you about your son, Faelorn."

The man frowns and his eyes narrow.  "Who might you be and what do you have to do with my son?"  His body language adjusts slightly to prepare for fight or flight, but there is nothing of real training in his movements.