No one had said anything for a good long while, and all the time Schnickle considered the deed he had offered to perform. He liked the Drowish lady, and he really didn't want to have to kill her.

"Shaman you must fetch!" Schnickle ordered of the minotaurs. Perhaps he might know some cure, but Schnickle doubted it.

There was one other thing he could try, but...

Stunned by what he's heard Deepwalker replies, I can't believe you want to kill someone simply because of this.

Illianka puts her hands down and looks at him clearly. "If this is a true curse, then there's no other way... probably. We don't have a priest here who might intercede to remove it, so.."

"Ask she did." Schnickle protested weakly. He certainly didn't want to, but if it had to be done...

Deepwalker looks at the gnome and replies, She may have asked but there must be another way.  Stepping into a protective position by Illianka Deepwalker adds, Either we find another way or you'll have to go through me.

"That I could."

Schnickle turned back to the minotaurs. "Come!" he called again for the shaman.

"Why are you protecting me? It's for your sake that I would do this... why would you fight for me?" Illianka seemed genuinly confused by Deepwalker's actions, frowning and looking puzzled.

The Minotaur shaman lumbers up to Illianka.
"You have suffered the unfair hand of your godess, small one. Now, it is time for those who are hale and hearty to seek help while those who are unwell seek rest. You may find yourself capable of fighting such a curse off, if you have strength - and that you have defeated a drider in single combat is proof enough of your strength to me.

We carry enough supplies to look after the injured - I shall remain here alongside you. Everyone who is still healthy and unmarked should leave for now, however - we cannot afford to have this disease spread through us all.
The rest of you, we have sleeping mats and herbs - a few days of rest should cure all that ails you.

Schnickle conferred with the shaman. "More than a simple disease it is, I think. Mark of the spider is most unusual. But agree I do, the army we should split to save as many we can."

Once done, the little gnome crept away, deep in thought.

Time passes slowly, as you lie feeling ill.

How many people here have ranks in heal and feel like trying to tend to the others?

None of you, that's how many.

As the worst cases, the shaman tends primarily to the three of you. Unless any of you are going anywhere for four days or so, you recover, healing up to 10 points of ability damage and 10 hp/level.

The spider has faded from most of the minotaurs faces as well as Illiankas, but remains on Deepwalker and Schnicklegulp's face, and one of the minotaurs has small patches of hairy chitin all over his body.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:31, Wed 18 Oct 2006.

Schnickle waited and rested, but the disease or curse or whatever it was clearly wasn't getting better. The minotaurs and Illianka seemed to have improved, though Schnickle didn't trust that diagnosis. Deepwalker and himself hadn't improved, and one of the minotaurs had gone all strange. Schnickle could care less about the minotaurs, but it wasn't a good prospect.

He at last came to a conclusion. He had to take the risk, else his whole mission would be ruined.

So silently one night, Schnickle crept away, down a dark and lonely tunnel, without a word to his fellows.

When he goes off down a corridor, you assume he just wanted a few minutes of privacy, but as time passes, you begin to wonder where he could have gone. While still waiting for the main group to return, you can't afford to run off looking for him - or at least, that's the view of the shaman.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:32, Wed 18 Oct 2006.

Illianka scowled a few hours later, and realised that what she felt was the need to know that he was alright, that he hadn't abandoned them - rather than as she first thought that he had gone to betray them. It was a new feeling - she was actually worried for someone, rather than about them.

Without a word to the others, she slipped away in the darkness in the same direction he had gone, kneeling a short way away and stroking the ground as she attempted to track the gnomes' course. A moment later, she was off, following the trail. She knew that she was at least twice as fast as him unenhanced, and so took the time to ensure that she did not lose the trail.

[Private to DM Daniel:
11:30, Today: Illianka rolled 24 using 1d20+7. Track vs DC 21.
Moving at half my normal land speed to avoid accruing penalties.]

Illianka returns to the group, but there is still no sign of Schnick.

Schnickle finally returned a few days later, slinking back into the cavern much the same way as he had left, through from an entirely different direction.

Behind him a small troop of deep gnome warriors, silent and deadly. They took up positions and waited.

Schnickle whispered something to their leader, and wandered towards his fellow adventurers and the minotaur leaders. "Reinforcements I bring, skilled deep gnome soldiers from Blingdenstone. Also a priest to heal and un-curse us." he announced, with a sheepish look to Illianka.

"I had not heard that the little ones can fight - but then, one sees them so rarely. Your assistance is welcome, although it will not be needed."

"None hear of the svirfneblin warrior, because none survive." Schnickle shrugged. "But want not, waste not."

"Thankyou, Schnicklegulp..." Illianka smiled at the gnome. It was an expression she'd been practicing, and it showed. As she'd recovered, it wasn't the only thing she'd been practicing with - she wore her sisters' harness over her tunic and chain shirt, the driders' large daggers sheathed crossways at the small of her back. For the moment, her Piwafwi was on a rock nearby - she had been in the process if shadow-duelling when the gnome had returned, and though she had sheathed both weapons quickly upon realising that he had returned, she had yet to conceal the harness - or the spider markings on the hilts of the blades.

Hearing the comment about how none survive the svirfneblin Deepwalker smiles to himself.  Thinking, The little one is talking like a drow to make his people sound tough.  Hope they're better fighters than he is cause his fighting skills are pitiful.

Schnicklegulp wandered over to the svirfneblin priest. "Earthblood most honoured, cure you can this curse-disease?"

"I can try. Those who are hurt, gather about me, and do not be alarmed."

The priest waves his hands back and forth once the spider-marked people are close to him, and a glow appears between them. Then he claps his hands together, and there is a thunderous roar. The chittering sound of giant spiders is barely heard in the background when a flash of light is accompanied by a massive shockwave that blasts all of you into nearby walls.
When your eyes recover, there is no sign of the spiders.

After a moment, Illianka prizes herself from the wall with a groan.

"Ssussun pholor dos! What in the god's names was that spell?" the curse was heartfelt, though translated it roughly meant 'light upon you'.

The small Schnickle was well battered by the spell, and he picked himself up with a groan. "Thanks to you, most honoured, but so painful did it have to be?"