Falcon Hollow as much a home as you've had. With the majority of the town owing their livelihood to Darkmoon Lumber Company and by extension Thuldrin Kreed, your world revolves around his.

The lumber company controls what goods are available and what price it is. The only Store in town , The Goose and Gander, is a company Store...and both low market and high market bazaars are controlled strictly. To say the Lumber Company owns Falcon Hollow is an understatement.

Each of you owe your own livelihood to the company in one way or another.

In fact the only source of fresh water, Brookmans Well, is a Lumber Company Holding.

The rowdy Lumberjacks from camps along the forests edge, with a couple days off come here to enjoy their time off.

The consortiums hand is everywhere you look and on every persons mind.

That changed a day ago. The first to start coughing was Mathilda Dorgars. The elderly mother of one of the lumberjacks. Within half a day 15 more started coughing and hacking. It seemed the elderly, the young, or those less hardy were more susceptable to what folks are calling 'the scourge'.

Here it is the day after the first person caught it and easily 30 people have it. Kreed has locked himself away in his Villa on the Perch and all travel up the hill has been stopped. Lumber Consortium Guards  stop all coming with threat of death.

A line some 20 people long has formed outside the herbalists and any thought of going to the Temple of Iomedae was halted when one of the priests came down with it...

It's a day like any other in early fall...except it's not. A new visitor has come to town and It's taking its toll.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:16, Wed 27 Sept 2017.

Tarack was going about his business when he noticed the line outside the herbalist's. Curiosity got the better of him and having picked up his pet leopard cub, people just seemed to react better to it when it was not roaming around, Tarack approached the group

"What's up? Is Laurel having a sale on laxatives?"

It was a day like any other... one in which a certain gnome would roll from his cot, scratch at a veritable bouquet of hair that never seemed to make up its mind on which side of his head it would be when he awoke, and lazily grab his pole in order to go drown some worms in the nearby River Foam. His room was small, but he was small and so that really was of no large matter to him. On his way out the door, he passed by his adventurer's pack, and he would sigh and wonder if this might be the day when his own adventures might begin, the day he'd start to write tales in which he was the hero, or at the very least a sidekick in the same.

His optimism had grown dullish of late however. He'd scraped up what valuables he could find in his family cabin on the river near Golden Falls, and he'd collected nearly a months worth of tips which he kept hidden beneath a creaky floorboard, to purchase the sort of gear as was available and possibly needful when adventure came knocking. It wasn't much really, but it had been exciting for the little gnome to pack it downstairs, sit it next to his story stool, and just have it nearby for that moment wherein - as all the great stories detailed - adventure would come blustering into the tavern and declare him vital to some quest or other!

"Oh no, get some rest, you've a long journey ahead of you I'm sure," he said to the pack as he passed it by for his late-morning fishing.

As he made his way through the kitchen, he palmed a handful of dough off the kneading board when nobody was looking and sauntered out the back. It wasn't much of a breakfast to be sure, but to one as laid back as this particular gnome was, it didn't really matter that much. He supposed that one day he'd be less inclined to lollygag his way through life, that day when adventure would come knocking, but until then he was content to lounge away the daylight hours under a tree on the bank near a deep pool and daydream about waist-deep snow or torrents of rain out on the trails of adventure...

He'd determined this particular day like any other, to claim a spot just downriver from the Ferry Dock where a few shade trees would keep off the heat of the autumn sun, and where he might overhear conversations of any who might cross hither or yonder bank. He'd just crossed the street leading him to the Low Market when he saw a few local folks making their way up the street in the opposite direction. When the gnome waved and smiled, they merely gave the briefest of nods before hurrying along their way. Wondering if his hair had decided to form itself into something particularly offensive during the night, he glanced over his shoulder, wondering at what might be considered rudeness in this little town.

That's when he noticed the line in front of the Herbalist's shop, and something deep in the pit of his small stomach seemed to tug him in that direction. Confusing this with hunger, he stuffed the remainder of the bread dough into his mouth and kept going, but his stomach was not satisfied! That odd sensation continued until out of irritation he turned himself about to prove to his annoying gut that it was obviously confused!

Amazingly, the sensation did not cease, but rather compelled him to move himself in that direction! Shaking his head at the oddity of the thing, and half-admitting to himself that this might be something interesting enough to postpone his morning nap over, he decided to indulge this bizarre gut feeling and see what the gathering was all about.

"Nomerendal, you're becoming as bad as the Three Blind Witches in your Booger-stories you tell to frighten children!" he chided himself.

Ahead he spotted a dwarf he recognized but had never chatted with much, for he didn't seem to approve of Nom's lazy lifestyle. "Yolla-you!" he called out, "Bullstagen isn't it? What's all the to-do about?"

Varianna had been staying at the cottage Kreed had arranged for her after her help with the gearing of the main mill. Many were distrustful of an elf in the forest, but the people of Falcon's Hollow seemed to be quite pleasant. She has been able to find plenty of work that required her fine motor skills.
She ate her breakfast outside on the porch, hoping to enjoy the sunlight but with the overcast sky she is left wanting. Today she was supposed to fix the lock on Kreed Mansions front door. It had a sticky tumbler which made it relatively easy to pick, at least easier than it should be. He offered to pay her for her services, and she readily accepted.
Setting out that morning she noticed the commotion and disregarded it, she had gold to earn. Sadly this did not happen, even though she had an appointment she was still turned away by the guards. Irritated, she made her way back towards the cottage. Seeing the group even larger than before she held off to the side of the street, noticing the dwarf and gnome standing a bit away from the assembled mass. Wondering why the herbalist was so important, she approached the two, asking "Excuse me, do either of you know why there are so many people trying to see the herbalist?"
This message was last edited by the player at 13:27, Thu 28 Sept 2017.

Rennick had been guarding the Paper Mill during the night and was tired. However, he decided that he would go to the Sitting Duck
tavern to get a mug of ale before turning in to bed. He wanted to hear some stories of the locals. Moreover, he wanted to see if there
were any adventurers in town. He hadn't come here to stay as a guard for a long time. His purpose had been much more exciting.
But his friends had left on family business, so their plans to explore some ancient ruins had come to naught.

Rennick entered the Sitting Duck tavern, which was frequently used by the Lumber Consortium employees, went to the tavern owner
Ergin Tock and ordered a mug of ale. He asked Ergin Tock or his barmaid for news. He looked around to see if there were interesting guests in the inn.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:01, Thu 28 Sept 2017.

Arell awoke with the sun.

He felt his bones protest as he stood up (when had THAT started happening?) begging him to return to bed for another hour, for another day, forever...

That wasn't happening.  He had work to do.

Abadar was not a terribly demanding god, a number of practices others might consider vices, Abadar saw as a matter of course.  But there was one thing Abadar insisted on that barely registered elsewhere in the pantheon.

You took care of what was yours.

Arell's morning prayers included sweeping and dusting his small room (and no, not a "ritual" sweeping either).  The room was his, granted him by the town, he should take care of it.  Followed by a long hour of exercises and drills instilled by years practice--his body was his also, it must be taken care of.

By quarter to the eighth hour, Arell was washed, dressed smartly, and at his desk ready for the first tenants of the city needing to speak with either him or Varmos.  He made sure he had enough forms, and enough ink.  Even the small things were important to Abadar.

Except as the day went on, Arell was increasingly aware it would not be a normal day of making sure the wheels of bureaucracy spun.  Sickness.  Sickness spreading like wildfire.  Sickness that incited panic and drove citizens to desperate acts.  Sickness that undermined the tenuous tenuous veil that separated the civil from the barbarous.

He asked Varmos for the afternoon off and went out looking for someone who knew more about this than he did.  The people were suffering, and if he did nothing, they would suffer more.

And you took care of what was yours.

Ergin Tock was a Big Man, with short stubble growing on his face. He looked at Rennick when he asked for some news and shrugged. ehh. Couple of the Lumberjacks came down with that cold thats been popping up since yesterday. Hacking and coughing up vile stuff. Its spreading like wildfire. Hell, Kreed has put the Perch on lockdown. noone from dow here can go up there. Heard even one of the sword priests got it. Folks are calling it the scourge. Mostly kids and older folks. but a few others. Heard several folks saying they were going to the herbalist looking for cures.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Line at the Herbalist wasnt moving very fast. One person exited holding a bundle of herbs to take home nodding at the herbalist as he left saying Thank you Laurel. Ill use this in the tea as you say. and make a salve for his chest.

When Tarack asked what was going on...several people looked at him like he had no clue. One said Hey Tarack, I know you spend a good amount of time in the woods trapping game for low market, but aint you heard about The Scourge? maybe 20 folks ...kids mostly...and older folks...have caught this horrible coughing disease since only yesterday. Its spreading quick. Im coming to see what Miss Laurel can give me to keep my family from getting it.

Both Nomerendal and Variana were close enough they heard the exchange.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arell came walking down the street seeing the line outside the Herbalists and the three folks standing near by looking on. strange...an Elf, a Dwaf, and a Gnome...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 14:48, Thu 28 Sept 2017.

Still at the Sitting Duck, Rennick wondered how this could happen so quickly. 'The scourge', already it had an evil name.
People were obviously very concerned.
He answered Ergin, "Thuldrin is scared, right? He's not the type to risk getting infected with an unknown disease.
But now that the Perch is on lockdown, I think we may be free to look after this town.
I wonder about this sickness. It is strange that even one of the priests got it.
I mean, if the scourge is something out of the woods, did the priest go there too?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:11, Thu 28 Sept 2017.

There was quite a line at the herbalists.  Small wonder.  Arell doubted their stock of herbs included stuff to handle new and unknown maladies quickly.  Still it couldn't hurt to ask...

Yes, it could, blundering in there like a bull wouldn't solve anything, and only scare everyone more.  Might as well see who else was around that might know something.

The songsman would do.

"'Rendal, what in the seven hells is going on?" Arell's voice cracked like old wood breaking.  Usually he tried to keep his voice pleasant--today was not the time for it.

A woman came in to the little house that Lorn called home and knocked on the wooden door. Lorn opened the door disheveled, he had spent the whole night reading up remedies, both magical and mundane to try to find a cure for this plague. He might not be as skilled a healer as the herbalist with potions, herbs, ointments and salves but there was perhaps some knowledge in the books that he had stowed away over the years.

"Yes Sara? What can I do for you"? she asked. It was obvious she had been crying. "It's my Jonathan.. he doesn't stop crying.. he doesn't eat.. and the herbs I got from Laurel aren't working. Is there anything you can do?" her tears welling up again. It's a rare thing for some one to ask healing of Lorn since he was the man to go to to bring life into the world or when it left. But these were different times, desperate times. He had himself brought this infant into the world barely a year ago which was born weaker than normal but with Lorn's help, the boy grew stronger. Perhaps this is why Sara was at his doorstep asking for help for his son.

"I can come look at him but I can't promise anything. I do not think I'm as skilled a healer as Laurel. I will meet you at your house soon. Let me gather my things." with that he closed the door and got the little supplies he had and put them in a satchel he wore and looked in the mirror a quick moment to make himself at least a little bit more presentable. Went out to the yard where his horse was grazing, got his saddle and quickly saddled the horse before riding at a trot to the Bridges' house. Leaving his travel gear and armors behind but he always had his dagger.

At the house he opened the door and walked in unceremoniously, going straight to the nursery. There he found the young couple, trying to console their baby. They backed away when they saw Lorn, giving him room, and he immediately and quietly went to examine the sick child.


17:12, Today: Lorn rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Heal; figuring out this disease.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:47, Thu 28 Sept 2017.

Nomerendal jumped, "I didn't do- Oh, its you Arell, gave me a bit of a start!"

The gnome drew close to his friend, sensing the unease. "I'm not sure exactly, I just got here myself," he said quietly as he observed the line of folks over his shoulder. "Something about an illness I believe. Looks serious however, a few of them didn't even wave at me as they passed by. When's the last time that happened in Falcon's Hollow? Isn't that how us locals spot a stranger? Anyway, old chap, these folks look like they could use a little distraction. Join me in a hymn? How's that one go you're always singing?"

Tarack scratched his head. He has been out for a while trapping and what not. He has heard of the sickness that has been going around, but did not think much of it. He had no 'family' in town and being a dwarf, was not too susceptible to diseases in general, so he general did not pay attention. But, it did appear that a lot of folks were sick and worried about getting sick. He greeted the others who gathered and replied to the bard.

"Chearing people up is good, but perhaps we should check to see if we can help instead."

With that Tarack proceed inside.

Arell's expression didn't falter at the halfling's exuberance, but it did become slightly more wooden.  There were several things he wanted to say (most of which started with "call me 'old chap' again and I'll...") but he took a deep breath and saved that emotion for later.

'Rendal was just trying to help after all.

"I can see people are sick," he said evenly, "I was hoping you had a clue why.  I'd pester Laurel about it, but..." he gestured to the line, "See seems a bit busy for the likes of us."

As the dwarf ran off to ask her anyway, Arell just sighed, "Let us know what you find out." he called after the man.

Ergin looked at Rennick in an odd manner who said it came outta the woods? i havent heard that. you know somethin i dont?

--------------------

As Arell, Variana, and Nomerendal stood looking at the line and the gnome started to strum his lute bring just a few scowls from the line of people.

Tarack approached the front and several people began saying

hey no cutting the line

who do you think you are?

go wait in.the back like we did

And other things. It was obvious folks didn't want to let him in

------------------

Meanwhile Lorn visited a family he'd helped before and began checking their child out he'd helped deliver. The young one was very sick. Some fungal infections of the lungs. It could be highly contageous. How and why escaped him..but this type of malady would best be known by Laurel....

Rennick looked at Ergin with a sly smile, answering: "No, you didn't say that exactly, but I can think for myself. I thank you for your information. I think I'll have a chat with a few others. Thanks for the drink, man."

Rennick left a silver coin on the bar and exited the Sitting Duck.
He walked up the street towards the people in front of the herbalist shop, and noticed Arell, Rendal and Tarack there.
He decided to approach quietly, so that he listen and observe what was going on, while standing at the back.
Meanwhile an idea was forming in his head. He was considering (in his mind) whether he should go to the priests now or after a good 8 hours of sleep.

"There is nothing I can do here. But I might be able to help Laurel, help you. Keep him fed and warm and hopefully he'll survive. He has seen tough odds before." Lorn says to the parents before grasping his necklace and say a prayer to Pharasma to stave of death for this little being, if only for a little while.

With that he nods a solemn farewell to the parents before going out to his horse and riding in the direction of the Root and Remedies shop. Lorn arrived just in time to see Tarack, one of the few dwarves in town, being shouted out for cutting the line. The generousity of the towns people not showing today.

Lorn dismounted the horse and walked up to the line. "People, will you let me in to speak to Laurel about finding a remedy for this disease in unison, as I'm pretty sure is Tarack's goal as well. He doesn't seem sick to me, nor does he have family here in town, which some of you know full well." he says loudly in stern voice.

Arell's hackles raise as Tarack is rebuffed.  Yes, the queue is a time honored tradition of bureaucracy, and he was loathe to subvert it.  However in this instance it was also inefficient.

"Right," Arell growled, then raised his voice, "Okay folks!  You all know me, and you all know what I do.  And right now I'm going to say something a little strange.  What you need right now, more than Laurel's herbs or tisanes, is information.  This...sickness, whatever it is, floating around here right now is new and scary, and I get that.  But before we can fix it, we need to learn about it.  I'm going around and talking to folks who might know something about it: Laurel, Lorn, Cirantha...hells, I'll even check in with Kabran just in case, and once I find something, I'll post a notice back at the magisters and you ALL can learn about this thing, and protect yourself all at once.

He paused a moment, letting that idea sink in, "But before all that can happen, you gotta let me and mine through to talk to Laurel."

He gestured for the queue to stand aside like it should be the most obvious thing in the world.


14:24, Today: Arell Kirkwood rolled 18 using 1d20+8.  Diplomacy; cut in line the nice way.

Tarack nods as Arell speaks and adds his own voice "Come on, you know us. I am not trying to cut the line, but rather see I'd Laurel needs help. Heck, she may need someone with herb knowledge to measure and distribute.
Let us in and you'll probably get your stuff faster."

17:56, Today: Tarack Bulslagson rolled 11 using 1d20+1.  Diplomacy aid to Arell

Varianna watched the townsfolk heckle Tarack as they moved past the line. It was curious to see how the humans dealt with such issues. Where she grew up, social standing took precedence to how long one had been waiting. She was used to the waiting.
The older looking one had made it clear that they should go first. It reminded her a bit of home, but she couldn't find any fault with his logic. She also began to think of her day and realized that something needed to be done or a disease, or the fear it brought, would make it quite difficult to find consistent work here.
She recognized the older one, but couldn't remember speaking to him. Someone had called him "Arell".

"Arell!" she says loudly. "Would you mind if I accompanied you? Mr. Kreed has holed himself up and I won't be able to do any work for him until we get this sickness under control." she explains. She hadn't yet seen an elf with the sickness, though there were not many here in town, so that did not prove they were not susceptible.

The line of citizenry became subdued at the words spoken by Lorn and Arell and Tarack.

And they made room for this motley collection of individuals to push into 'Roots and Remedies' to see a very messy shop with books open and bottles uncapped everywhere.

Laurel stops what she's doing putting an herbal back together for a distressed woman holding a sick child and says plainly...

yes? how can i help you

Rennick was still standing outside. He saw a few people get into the herbalist cabin, apparently to devise a cure.
He thought that it would be better to ascertain the cause of the scourge first,
so he walked on and went towards the temple of Iomedae.

Before doing anything, Rennick would observe the temple cautiously, to see if people were entering or exiting the temple.

Rennick saw absolutely noone entering or exiting. He knew from the few weeks here that the followers of Iomedae were few in Falcons Hollow and it was a tribute to the beliefs of the clergy that they kept trying to bring folks to the vleief in.The Swordmaiden

Arell gives the elf a once-over.  Since she answered directly to Kreed, she hadn't needed to bother with the magisters--and so they'd never spoken before.  That said, if Kreed was going to be useless...again, Arell might as well take advantage of his bored employees.

He motions for the elf to follow and nods to Lorn as they all go in.

"Laurel," he nods to the tired woman, "We're trying to get your workload lightened.  What can you tell us about this bug floating around?  If I can get notice up, maybe we can get people protecting themselves rather than flocking to your doorstep."

The herbalist looked at Arell with tired eyes.

ive been trying hard to identify it. It has all the signs of being Blackscourge. Which is a fungal infections from ingesting the Blackscourge Mushroom.
But most people know what that looks like and wouldn't even begin to eat it. It grows in Darkmoon Woods so I'm not sure how so many folks could ingest it so quickly. If I knew for certain what is is then I could do more than treat symptoms. Any of you have ideas?
 

As often was the case, as soon as the gnome stopped drawing attention to himself, most of the people simply ignored the smallish fellow. He scampered along behind the others as they made their way into the Herbalist's and slipped through the door hardly noticed. The smells and sights in the shop were intriguing, especially the books, scrolls and parchments that were laying scattered about. Nomerendal made a mental note to come back here when things were less hectic and see if he couldn't borrow some for reading material while he fished.

"Darkmoon Woods? Blackscour Mushrooms? Sounds like something out of a story..." he mused quietly, thinking.

"Excuse me, but may I ask, who was the first to take ill? Surely, you've already thought of this, after all, you're certainly more knowledgeable than most folks about such things... but that might help you track back to the source... maybe."

Nom realized he was still holding his fishing pole as he stood behind the others and peeked around to make his inquiry. He awkwardly fidgeted with it a moment, but there's really no hiding a fishing pole.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:30, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

Laurel glanced down at the Gnome and said Mathilda Dorgars, one of The Lumberjacks mother. She lives in town.and her son hadn't visited.

Tarack tries to remember if he knows anything about these mushrooms their properties and where they would be likely to grow.

14:14, Today: Tarack Bulslagson rolled 25 using 1d20+8 Knowledge Nature

Tarack considers what Laurel said

Tarack chimes in after giving the matter some thought "If it is Blackscour, then the people could have easily ingested the spores by drinking contaminated water near a mushroom patch. This will would not cure anyone who is affected, but I would suggest boiling any water before drinking it, or at the very least mixing it with alcohol, like beer or wine. Remove Poison spells should be effective as well.

Hmm, would a Detect Poison spell reveal the contamination?

And, if your guess is correct, what you need to treat the infected Laurel?"

With his thinking that on, Tarack seem to become oblivious to everything and everyone around him especially the cub near his feet until it started to treat his leg as a scratching post which brought about a loud "Ouch!" which was sure to scare the people outside.

Lorn watched as the troop of various species went into the hut before entering himself. Surprised at the number of people that are after the same quest as him.

He lets them asks their questions. Listening and contemplating the situation.

Rennick thinks that it is even more quiet at the temple than usual, but that suits his purpose.
He walks to the front of the temple and knocks on the front door.
He asks to see one of the priests, if possible.

Laurel pauses at Taracks thoughts and remarks everyone in town drinks from the same source. Bleakmans well. we've been drinking from that our whole life. 

------------------------------

Rennick hours to the temple and grabs ahold of the large bronze knocker of the symbol of Iomedae and knocks with it


A few minutes later a thin pinch faced woman with priest robes answers and says hello sir. what can this servant of the Swordmaiden help you with

Rennick answers the priestess, "I'm Rennick Hitman and I work at the Paper Mill. However, today I'm investigating the cause
of the affliction that the common folk call 'the scourge'. I've heard that one of the servants of the swordmaiden has fallen ill and I
would like to speak to her about that. It would help me to determine where this affliction has started. I have some ideas about that
already, but it would help if I could gather some more testimonies by people who've been afflicted. Is it possible?"

Arell is conflicted as he listens to the various "experts" that have gathered.  One one hand, it's useful that progress is getting made.  On the other...

"And...that well is drawn from an aquafier right?  No chance these spores wafted their own way into the drinking water, in sufficient quantity to make people sick, all by themselves. Right?"

you dont think...no...but that would be the only logical explanation

She looked very fretful and said Arell. we need to look in the well. inside. for black capped mushrooms.
Someone may have tried to poison the town. And while you're gone checking it I'll see if i.can find a cure

The priestess looked at the guard and sighed alas sir she has fallen into a deep slumber that we are unable to wake her from. She is older though. She had gone out to one of the farms out by the well to help one of the members of our congregation last night who had fallen ill with this scourge. Very quickly.she took I'll and now we can't wake her up

Arell strokes his chin with his hand completely covering his mouth.  If his eyes are any indication, he's probably hiding a rather ugly frown.

His eyes fall on the gnome...with a fishing pole.

Hmmm...

"That's it then?" he asks the herbalist, "Just lower someone down there and hope to the gods they spot mushrooms?

"That sounds like a good plan Arell, I would wager there are any number of youngsters around town who would love to be lowered down a dark and scary - possibly deadly - well. Shall I go recruit one?"

Tarack shrugs "You may not find anything. The infection is from the spores. There maybe no mushrooms there."

Tarack rubs the area where he was scratched before turning to Laurel "We may already be infected, but have not shown any signs. From what I gather it is affecting the less hardy, the old, the young and the weak. It may not even affect everyone, or at least the strong would be able to fight it off.

In any case, we need to treat the water, but just as important we need a cure. Laurel, do you have something that can cure this?."

i may. im going to look through my mothers journal. it be helpful Tarack if you could adminster herbal packets to those in line while i research and Arell goes to the well. you Elf. you should go to the Sherrif and tell him to get the word out about boiling the water from here on out so we can at least stop anyone else from possibly getting it.

She turns back to Tarack saying actually most everyone probably isnt infected... yet...most of us bring small cadks to larger barrels of water at a time and only go to fill another up when we get close to running out. I'd wager that the folks infected drank well water that was obtained recently. Don't you think?

"It's certainly possible, but why take a chance? Let's boil it, or treat it with magic to be sure." Tarack nods in agreement with himself. "Now where are those packets you wanted me to give out?"

"The water in the well is a likely candidate. But I'd like to remind you that spores are light as air and travel far with wind. They are also small enough to be mistaken for dust if seen at all. Lorn says stopping for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Have we searched under the trees or in any other damp, dark place? It could help us in our search to know where the victims of this plague live and work. If we had a map and pinpoint every outbreak, a pattern might emerge." he suggests.

After some quick identifying of where the infected people are...it seems as if there is no pattern for location being through out the town and some outside of it in outlying farms

Arell gives the little man a flat look,

"If there are spores down there, I'd rather not expose someone so young." he says, "Come on, 'Rendal, let's get some rope."

He heads outside, arm firmly around the gnome's shoulders if he senses any resistance.

Once outside he addresses the crowd, "Okay folks.  After chatting with Laural and Lorn, we think it's a problem with the well.  We're pretty sure boiling it before drinking should at least stop anyone new from getting sick.  Me and Rendal are heading to the well to confirm, but if we're lucky this won't be too hard to fix."

He seriously doubted they'd be lucky, but the town didn't need to know that yet.

"Tarack will be out in a few minutes with herb packets for anyone that needs it, just wait patiently and we'll get you sorted out."

And so saying heads off to grab rope before heading to the well.

Varianna listens to the exchange. She waits until they are done, then follows to the well. "I know of no one who might cause this much chaos living in town. I assume either this is occurring because of the forest or someone who hates the company, town, or someone inside it. Have you heard anything?" the elf asks quietly. She had done various jobs around town, but the fungus would hinder things at a minimum. "Let me know if I can do anything to help." she offers.

Lorn stays behind to ask Laurel;"Do you need any help restocking of herbs and ingredients, miss?"

"Well then who did you..." the gnome's voice trailed off as he realized Arell didn't have local kids in mind.

"I suppose that makes sense. But let's not get hasty, why don't we use our heads?" As he trotted behind the swiftly walking human, he rattled off a handful of other ideas, but by far his favorite was this:

"Why don't I just fish for some spores? If I rig my hook a little differently, I believe I could possibly snag a mushroom with it, and then I wouldn't be forced, erm... I wouldn't need to go down there... gulp. Besides, I'm much smaller than almost all of these rough-housers around here! Aren't you afraid of losing me down there? Or maybe I'll find some frog princess and will be ensorcerelled by her beauty and never return? I heard a tale along those lines once..."

The prattling and wheedling continued as they made their way.

In reply to DM Dread (msg # 36):

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she gets a medicine to make her recover soon. But thanks for telling me where she went. It appears that this scourge is somehow connected to the well."
Rennick went back to the place on the street outside herbalist shop to see what was happening there.

Rennick turned and headed back to the herbalist in time to see Arell, the clerk he'd registered with; a gnome minstrel he'd heard play at Jak'a'napes, and the locksmith heading out towards the gate leading to the well.


The well was just a short distance from the city gate, a few hundred yards. A few farmsteads were nearby.

It was well made with about a 2' wide circular opening about 3 feet off the ground made of brick and mortar. A well constructed roof supported by 2 4x4 posts sheltered the winch and bucket used to get water.

Two Lumber Consortium Guards stood nearby crossbows held loosely in their arms.

"Goodmorning, dear clerk. Heading out the the well? I'd like to join you. It appears that the well has something to do with the scourge." While saying that, Rennick followed the three to the well.

Arell was about to say something along the lines of "no need to trouble yourself, it's a two man job..." but then he noticed the pair of guards.

Had the well always been this closely watched?  He knew the lumber consortium ran everything around here, but he'd never heard them being picky about water.  Arell's hopes of just finding a mushroom infestation were dwindling

In any case the additional man along suddenly made more sense.

"Afternoon gents," he said conversationally, "May I ask, why the crossbows?  It's not like the well is going anywhere...

The Guards scowled at Arell's words its been awhile since you got out clerk. Ever since Old Man Brookmans died Kreed's owned the well. Why wouldn't he guard it?

They looked at the motley group of people there. One of the guards recognized Rennick hey Rennick what brings you here? youd do better drinks with from the barrels at the mill
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:40, Sat 30 Sept 2017.

Rennick fixed the one guard with a stare and answered him: "Interesting, your suggestion. Since when does water from a barrel taste better than
from a well? I came here because I want to taste the well water, see if it is fresher than the barrel water or not."

word came down from Payday this morning. dont drink the well water.

"Really..." Arell said, "I don't recall seeing a note of transfer, but then, I don't see everything that passes through the office."

However it did stand to reason that rights to entire town's drinking supply being transferred ought to have raised a stink.  The clerk was certainly smelling it now.

Especially with mention of "barrels at the mill."

"Anyways, I was, on behalf of the town mind you, going to inspect the well for damage and/or tampering.  Are you boys going to let me do it, or do I need to get a warrant first?

It was usually the best option, in Arell's opinion, to open with asking nicely.  The impetus was now on them to either play nice and stand aside.  Or let him walk away and come back better prepared for rough housing.

you can most certainly look. payday just said 'noone drinks from the well boys'. That noone means anyone.

Arell nods, "Thank you kindly, gentlemen."

And so saying unslings the rope he grabbed from the office off his shoulders and turned to the gnome.

"Whatdya think, Rendal?  Loop for your foot?  Or Ralla's special?"

The fact that he didn't suggest "a bunch of times around the waist" bespoke of highly specialized knowledge of ropes that his acquiring of was (perhaps) too horrible to contemplate.

Varianna looked with a bit of confusion at the armed guards. Listening to the exchange, she though it odd that the well was guarded, especially by two people. Her suspicions were lowered slightly when they allowed the men to inspect the well, but the whole thing was still a bit odd. It was a little relief that there seemed to be water stored for an occasion like this, and she hoped that it could be easily distributed.
She stood a bit away from the well and guards, watching them closely.

Meanwhile Tarack is busily selling herb packs and putting more together as he goes. It takes about 3 minutes to handle each customer. And Tarack is going through them as fast as possible.

Laurel sits at a desk pouring through books and cross referencing material.

From the counter Lorn asks how he can help and Laurel looks up, pushing her glasses up on her nose and pushing back a widow of grating hair and says in a friendly manner Lorn. good to see you. no. i think Tarack is doing ok. however what i could use help with is looking up where Rats Tail can be found in this book of herbal remedies. I think I'm close to figuring out a possible cure, if we are right, but there's a couple herbs I don't have and this one is important.
 

"Rats tail.... it rings a bell but not a loud one...." he says as he pulls up a chair to sit opposite Laurel. He picks up a likely book and begins to read. "If you're not sure of this herb and where to find it, then i assume it isn't  easily found. Do you know where to begin to look?" he ask after a few mintues of reading and thought.

Nom finally got the subtle hint - that Arell was a smooth one - that he was actually going to be the bait on the end of the line. Now if this would have been the River, then he'd have immediately declined. He'd had too many prize bluegill snatched from his line by something very large out in that water. Going down into the well was something different, and that something was oddly tantalizing to the little gnome. He set his pole aside and got ready with the rope.

"Well, I daresay it might be deep down there, and spending a really long time upside down doesn't sound very appetizing to me at the moment Arell. I'd rather have my hands and feet free for maneuvring and so forth... besides, I'm not much of a climber, and I'm certainly not much for swimming in icy dark water. What about just wrapping a bunch of loops around my waist? Wouldn't that work?"

While Arell was working his rope-magic, Nom said to him quietly, "Did I miss something, or did that guard say nobody was supposed to drink out of the well? Granted I'm not the sharpest dagger in the targetboard, but.. isn't that why we have the well in the first place?"

"Ralla says that's a really good way to break your spine...especially if you're hanging there for a while."

Arell then begins a rather crazy assortment of loops that not only go around Rendal's waist, but also incorporate his shoulders, chest and legs too.

While he works, he goes sotto voice, Yeah, I noticed that too...We'll confer with the guys once we're done here, but I'm thinking Kreed--or someone in his company--has gone full baby-eating evil while no one was looking."

By the time he's done, Nomerendal looks like he's wearing an outline of a rope suit, with the remaining cord jutting from the small of his back.  He'll be going down like a spider--which should keep him out of the water unless it becomes necessary.

"You gonna need a light?" Arell asks.  He knew the gnome probably had a trick or two, but it was polite to ask someone those things before chucking them down a deep dark hole.

The Herbalist noticed Tarack was about half done with the line as Her and Lorn looked through Books for the herbal remedy and where the items could be found. Every so Often Laurel gets up...goes to her shelves and nods and takes a jar down and puts it on the table her in front of her. She answered Lorn No Lorn I cant say that I do. Its something that grws in meadows, near the edges of the forest in the Vale...but which meadow inside the forest to attend? I have no idea.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:19, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

Rennick watched as Rendal was bound with the rope.
He understood what they were trying to do, but he thought it would be simpler to just climb down a rope.
"Sorry to interrupt, dear clerk, but wouldn't it be safer if one of us just climbed down a rope?
I'm quite good at climbing myself."

Arell sighed, he really wished the other man had said something before now, "Not a bad idea, until you have to figure out how to see in a pitch black cave full of water with your hands tied up with keep you attached to the rope.  This way Rendal has his hands free for a torch or something.

Or a tricksy spell that made lights...sometimes stereotypes had some truth behind them.

"Or you accidentally inhale deadly fumes and pass out, and we have to figure out how to get you out of there before your corpse makes the water worse.  And honestly, Rennick, you're big guy.  and I don't relish the idea trying to haul you anywhere...meanwhile I could probably juggle Rendals."

He tries not to dwell on the idea of more than one of the little guy.

"Well we are not gonna find out from sitting. Can you tell me what it looks like and we'll see if I can find it. Ride between between meadows until I find it. Thought it might take a few days to search them all. So if there's anything you or I can do to narrow the search. I'm listening." Lorn says to Laurel.

Lets wait til Arell returns from the well to decide what to do. And perhaps Tarack has ideads where it can be found. He goes into the forest trapping frequently. He finds Herbs for me at times.

"Sounds reasonable." Lorn says before going back to reading the book he had in front of him.

The 2 Guards watch as Arell, fits a rope harness to Nomerendal while Rennick stands close by. Varianna stands further away watching the two guards who seem oblivious.

The gnome was quite the little sport about the harnessing... at first. By the time the intricate knots, wraps and safety-hitches, were in place, he felt somewhat like a bundle of kindling all a-twine for vending at the Low Market! "I'm still not convinced this is any better than a half-dozen wraps around my middle friend Kirkwood, but I'll trust your skill, after all, these knots are truly a beautiful work of art."

Nomerendal waddled over to the edge of the well and prepared for his excursion into the depths. He still had a smile on his face at the thought of Arell trying to juggle him, and had even begun to formulate an act he could try at Jak'a'names with some straw-stuffed dummies. Looking into the darkness, that smile seemed to slip.

"Well, I suppose this is it then. Nowhere to go from here but... down."

He cleared his throat and said, loudly enough that the guards would surely overhear and be curious.

"But I shan't be going alone, come little friends," Nomerendal gestured to a spot near the well where there was a slight seep of water. There, several large butterflies were sipping at the moisture and sunning themselves, wings gently moving back and forth. The colors were brilliant and vivid, any color imaginable could be found in dozens of hues. Four of them suddenly fluttered and flitted toward the gnome's outstretched hand, landing in a dazzling flash of color.

Nomerendal brought his hand closer toward his face and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the guards to make sure he had their attention now. Upon each of the butterflies were tiny riders, delicate feylings with hair to rival the colors of their mounts. "Would the four of you mind lighting the way for me down into the well? You must be very brave, and you musn't forget about me and wander of..."

Each of the tiny riders raised a minuscule sceptre and all at once they began to glow! Blue, yellow, green and red, each a different color, but each very bright to the point where the butterflies and riders could no longer be seen, simply four floating orbs of light. "Ok then, lead the way little friends!"

Nom winked at Arell and stepped over edge like a tiny gnomish spider with half his legs torn off.

OOC: Prestidigitation to create the butterflies and riders, and Dancing Lights to set them a-glo!

Arell holds firm to his end of the rope, lowering the other person with a strength an old clerk probably ought not to have.

"Why am I surprised at the butterflies?" Arell says in Rennick's direction, "I've known that cabbage-head for years, I shouldn't be surprised at the butterflies."

He shakes his head then calls out to his victim, "See anything yet Rendal?"

Nomerendal is lowered down into the depths of the well. The Guards indeed get curious and move to the edge and look down chuckling at his odd lights. Variana can see no sense of hostility just curiosity.

As The Gnome reaches the 30 foot mark, near the water line, he can see several bundles of black capped mushrooms tied together and floating in the water. The budles seemd to be secured to the side of the well so if they got into the bucket the wire securing them to the rocks would pull them out of the bucket as they went forward.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:59, Mon 02 Oct 2017.

The sensation of spider-like descent was quite enjoyable and exciting really. Nomerendal was grateful after all that Arell had insisted on the elaborate knotting scheme. He willed his floating fairy-lights down the well before him, awed by the effects of their reflections in the water and the stone walls. He was also a little surprised that the water level wasn't much further down. Not knowing the depth, he'd expected it to be much deeper.

And then he saw something that made his little heart skipped a beat. Up to this point, this little outing had been something to pass the time and stave off a little daily boredom. Now... Well this certainly doesn't seem natural! He thought. Oh dear! Now what shall I do?

He heard his impatient friend hollering down to him, but Nomerendal needed a moment to think! He sent the butterflies to chasing each other in a whirlwind just over his head in order to hide him from the top while he took that moment to gather his wits.

He concentrated for a moment and then whispered as quietly as he was able, projecting a message entwined with fey magic up and out of the well!

"Trouble. Keep an eye on those guards! Best tie me off to something just in case..." his magical Message said to the man lowering him down.

Careful use of Message cantrip to Arell...

"Hey Arell, there's an old boot or something, send down my line and I'll try to hook it so you can reel it back up for me!" Came the little gnome's shout from down below.

His gulp seemed to echo as the gravity of what this might mean began to sink in...

While he waited for his companions to sort themselves out up there, Nomerendal summoned one of the butterfly riders to hover near the surface of the water to illuminate the scheme which was used to secure the mushrooms in place...

Taking 20 on Perception: total 25. Could I cut them loose without risking unbundling them?

Arell frowns, more at something buzzing in his ear than the gnome's request, "Rennick, grab his fishing pole...might as well do what he wants.  He's the only guy who knows what's going on down there."

He feels his arms start to twinge.  He could hold the weight for a while yet, but even the lightest burden strains with time.

Rennick accepts the fishing pole and checks if the line is fastened to it.
If it seems a decent construction, he'll lower the line into the well, but he doesn't look down,
he looks at the two guards to see what they're doing.

The guards watch on in a curious manner with totally relaxed mannerisms. there is no tension in their stances at all as The fishing line is lowered. Nomerendal studies the line's affixing the 3 bundles of mushrooms to the walls of the well and see's thats its a simple amber like substance 'glueing' the lines to the walls. and the lines are made from a strong fire as are the bundle works everything is natural and without technology. He realizes with a knife and a little work he could scrape the glue and pull the mushrooms away. How long it would take to purify the water afterwards he has no idea.

Rennick says to the guards: "Now that people can't get their water here anymore, perhaps Payday's going to sell water at another point in the village? And he's going to ask a good price for it, too, I'd wager."

The Guards look at Rennick like he's grown antennae.

Then one shook his head. Rennick. youre new sos i dont think you understand. Payday works for Kreed. if Kreed said charge the people for the well water, he'd charge the people for well water. The consortium owns the well. They don't need a reason to do that. If Payday thinks there might be something wrong with the water then it's probably for some reason.

Rennick answers: "Excuse me, I've been thinking in the wrong direction. But now I know that we can exclude the Kreed and Payday when looking for the ones who've been meddling with this well. I just wanted to be sure about that, and I think the clerk as well."

The Gnome went to work scraping the natural glue away from the well side and taking the fiber bound bundles of black mushrooms and putting them in the fishing line for Rennick to pull up.

gradually they retrieved all three bundles and the gnome was pulled back up from the depths.

Getting back to the top The others saw what had become toxic within the well.

The Guards said Whats that? as they both looked at the waterlogged fungus.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile Tarack finished the last of the packets and there was no-one else at the door and he turned to go back in the study of the small dwelling where he could see The Herbalist amidst a pile of books and many bottles of herbs and Lorn paging through a book titled Herbal Lore In The Vale

"We should probably go to the herbalist to identify it"

Rennick tries to identify the properties of black mushrooms with his knowledge nature.
OOC: 15:18, Today: Rennick Hitman rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  knowledge nature.

"Huh, that's interesting.. not relevant.. but interesting." Lorn muttered to himself halfway in the Herbal Lore In The Vale.

OOC: Next time i get a successful lore check on nature i'll know what to reference. :D

Arell's face twists into a snarl, "That..." he growls, "is what I was worried about."

Once he's sure all the cages are up he hauls up Rendal, hand over hand like he weighed nothing and turns back to the guards, "If you two are going to be standing here anyway, you might as well tell folks the well is quarantined until further notice.  And tell your boss when you see him that someone tried to poison his well." he smiled then, mostly teeth, "But not to worry.  We'll find whoever did this and ensure Swift Justice falls upon their heads."

He turned and stalked off toward the herbalist's fully expecting the rest of his group to follow in kind.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 18:15, Thu 05 Oct 2017.

"I think that's all of it," Nom said to Arell when he was finally hoisted over the lip of the well. "I wonder if the water can be cleansed?"

He began to help get himself untied and found that the many knots and hitches came easily apart! Though certainly more elaborate than something he would have attempted on his own had not Arell been here, the little gnome had to admit he was impressed. His mind briefly wandered to his cabin, far upriver, and the prospects of having Arell rig something that would allow him to cross the river near the Golden Falls. There was a particularly interesting looking fishing hole on the far bank, but it was a long way to hike down to Falcon's Hollow to take the ferry across and then hike all the way back to a place he could nearly sling a stone across the river and hit his own roof!

Arell's gruff comment and sickeningly fake smile yanked Nomerendal from his daydreaming. This was serious, or seemed that way. Nom took a moment to wipe his dagger on the grass lest any stray spores might have gotten on it, and then snatched his pole from Rennick and began to hasten his trot after the purpose-driven clerk.

"Your job just got a lot more interesting sirs," he said to the guards in parting. "Please keep a close eye out!"

Once they were out of earshot, Nom asked the ranger, "What do you think Rennick? They're awfully soggy, but they look sort of like the poisonous ones do they not?"

Rennick followed Arell and Rendal, saying: "I can't say for sure, but I do think this is the poisonous kind.
This must be what made the elderly and the young ill."

Once all of the packets have been distributed, Tarack heads back inside.

"That was the last of the herbs Laura. And, to tell you the truth, I am not sure those will help much. Its true the herbs will boost their natural immunity and defenses, but for those that are already sick we need something else. Did you find anything that may help?"

The herbalist sighed wearily. If it's blackscour scourge then my mother had found a cure...she said she'd bought it at a stiff price from the Witch Ulzmilla.

I have all the ingredients except three. Lien was trying to find where Ratstail could be found.

Then Eldermoss and Ironsoot Stools. With those I could cure everyone. The bad part of my research is Blackscour Scourge is lethal. According to her notes it starts causing death in 3 to 5 days, So in 2 days we could start seeing the first of the townsfolk dieing if we do not obtain things quickly
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:34, Thu 05 Oct 2017.

Tarack thinks for a moment

19:45, Today: Tarack Bulslagson rolled 13 using 1d20+11.  Survival.
19:44, Today: Tarack Bulslagson rolled 28 using 1d20+8.  Know  Nature.
19:44, Today: Tarack Bulslagson rolled 25 using 1d20+7.  Know Local.
19:44, Today: Tarack Bulslagson rolled 9 using 1d20+6.  Know Geography.

"I'm pretty sure whatever they are, I don't want to drink anything laced with them." Arell says, very obviously restraining his temper to a low boil.

He walks past the line and into the herbalist's without ceremony.

"Rendal found these down in the well, hanging there like bags of tea." he holds up the cages for all to see, "What do you want done with them?"

There's a rather unpleasant light in his eyes, one maybe Lorn, or possibly Variana would recognize...one that usually didn't come attached to magisters' clerks.

Tarack ponders the specific herbs Laurel mentioned and thought using his knowledge of the Darkmoon Woods

as Arell enters and Taracks thinking, Laurel jumps up and runs over to examine the Mushrooms saying Yes Yes indeed these are Blackscour Musrooms. And from the look of these bundles, someone went to an awful lot of trouble to place them in the well.

Tarack glances at the bundles as hes thinking

After the description given by the herbalist "Those will not be easy to find, but I think I know where to look." Tarack looks over the others gathered in the small house before adding "Could use some help if anyone wants to. We would need to get going right away."

Looking at the bundle Arell brought makes Tarack frown "Hmm, whoever did this ... they knew exactly what they were doing and how to do it. Th is is not someone who just threw one in for revenge."

"True, it is also someone who is not dependent on the well for water or is otherwise not subject to the fungus. It rules out a large portion of the town. It is a despicable act to say the least. You can count on my help to cleanse the well, aid the sick, and bring the cretin responsible to justice." the elf says. In truth, the fact that something like this was happening unsettled her a bit. The spring was not in her steps and she seemed distracted.

Rennick says: "I offer my help as well, to find whoever did this. However, if some of you think that Kreed did this, I must say I would not act on that suspicion. I have asked the guards at the well and they told me that Kreed owns the well and that he could ask a good price for the water anyway. So it would be illogical for him to poison his own well. I think someone else must have done this misdeed."

"First things first, I am heading to my cottage to gather my things and heading out. First stop is Ulzmilla's Cottage. There is a chance that she may have more than one ingredient.

Anyone who is coming, Meet me there in an hour. Laurel, do you have anything that can help us on our journey? Or anything else you want to add or say before we head out."

"Whoever did it, they can wait until after everyone stops dying." Arell sighs, "I'm in."

Rennick's defense of his boss was admirable.  But Arell wasn't convinced.  There wasn't enough to go on yet to convict anyone, but he wouldn't put it past Kreed to try something like this.

mis post
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Sat 03 Mar 2018.