As no one else wanted to join them, Julian and Gina left the tent.

[Continues in another thread.]

Gabriel had made himself comfortable in the tent.

"You have a plan right," he asked Marcus.

Marcus shoots Julian an extremely hostile look for his comments about elves, but doesn't start an argument. He watches them leave, though he knows he should accompany Gina. He suspects that his presence would be somewhat unwelcome, at least to Julian, not that the though displeases him greatly.

He leans back to relax, thinking about their current situation, then answers, "I don't really know enough about what is going on to be able to come up with a plan. Once we have heard more I may be able to come up with an argument that will convince Lord Brightblade. I am sure that the King will understand, as he knows of my dream and believes it is a prophecy from Paladine. But Lord Brightblade is far less likely to allow us to simply leave the caravan and wander around here on our own, looking for a dream."

Not wanting to roam around unfamiliar territory, Peter decides to stay with the others.  "I agree," He says in return to Marcus's comment, "We should have proof somehow of divine need here, lest the Knight Lord think the journey frivolous and without merit."

He shifts a little in his seat, stroking Crymson as the wolf laid beside him panting, "We really can't plan anything until that, otherwise the plan would be to return to Lord Brightblade with what would sound as children's stories, get berated for our foolishness, and sent on some humdrum detail as punishment... waiting is the best virtue here."

"And how do you intend to get such proof," Gabriel asked.

Peter scratched his head in thought, "I don't know really, maybe Shaylin will have something, or at least know of something we can take back."

"Or at the very least, if she can tell us the whole story then it will be more believable than telling him half of the story," Marcus adds, as he prepares his bedroll for one of the more unusual campsites of his life.

Deep green eyes that would have been at home in an Elven forest watched his distant cousin off with Julian as Kris sat in another corner of the tent.  He had taken off the rather large sword whose handle usually poked up over his right shoulder, its blade so long that it looked to be unwieldy for anyone but a person the size of an Ogre.  The weapon in its entirety was probably a little taller than Kris himself and would lend to the meaning of why it was slung diagonally across his back when he walked.  However, at this point in time, it was naked horizontally on top of his knees.

The blade was rather well-polished in stark contrast to its owner's disheveled appearance.  With his rough stubble and long, unkempt hair, the Kris Dragonword before his friends was merely a shade of the prideful, prodigious knight-in-training that they once had known.  If the old adage of the blade being the soul of a knight was true, with the whetstone in his right hand and the keen, gleaming appearance of the blade on his lap, Kris's spirit was more unwavering than it ever had been.

"If you are going to see Lord Brightblade, I won't be coming with you, unfortunately," came the low, masculine voice from his lips.  His words would probably draw attention to the scratched out insignia of the Solamnic Knights that had once been emblazoned over his armor's left breast.  "I have no words left to say to the Order."  His last words were accented afterward by a sharp ringing sound as he ran the whetstone over the blade on his lap once more.

After a few moments, he was finally satisfied with his work and slid home the large sword in its harness once more and lay it next to him.  Shifting slightly, he pulled the ragged cloak around his body slightly, obscuring the armor around him from view, though it was likely just a gesture to ward off the chill.  What had happened to Kris in the years that had passed was difficult to tell, but any one of his friends knew that it could be no small thing that had shaped him this way.

Julian entered the tent with Gina in tow.  Neither looked like they'd manage to get into any trouble at all while they were wandering the elven squatter camp, not even a little.

"Okay, I'm going to have you explain that one a little Kris but first... guess which illicit subterranean settlement is currently afflicted by a contagious disease that can't be cured by magic?  Any guesses?"

He turned his head to the side a little and smiled wide like a carnival barker.

"Turns out that the locals have a serious case of the ick.  So, if someone happens upon some kind of miraculous curing artifact of Mishakal or perhaps a miracle just let them know, kay?"  He rubbed his shoulders and plopped a seat on whatever was close that looked even a little bit comfortable.

"So.  Brightblade.  Lord Brightblade.  What's up with that guy, anyway?"

Some time later Shaylin returned ready to answer the group's questions.

"Hiyo, your highness."

Julian gave a friendly wave.

"What's up with the plague around here?  I think we've just about used all your hospitality, what with the virulent unstoppable contagion ripping its way through your little community, so uh... what's that all about, anyway?  We really should be going - I mean, we really should - but we'd like to help, too."

"If you know that much," Shaylin said, "you likely know as much as we do. I don't know much more than that. And if you can help, we would appreciate that a lot. Though I'm not sure where you can go to find such a cure. But we can at least show you a safe way out of town to begin that search."

"Do any of you have any other questions," Shaylin asked.

"Where did you think we'd be looking?  Just curious."

Julian smiled wide and idly imagined what Shaylin would look like naked... then, what she looked like dressed like a harelquin and riding a small dog.

"I don't know," Shaylin said. "We don't know what's wrong, so its difficult to know where to look for a solution. And our clerics haven't been able to do anything about it eihter."

"Ah.  No ideas then.  Okay."

Julian let the awkward silence linger in the air for a few seconds.

"I guess if we hear anything we'll be sure to, uh.  Right.  Write it down, I guess.  Make sure it doesn't become lost knowledge."

"Thank you," Shalin said. "Is there anything else we can do for you?"

Julian looked around at his mostly quiet companions.

"Nope... I think we're good."

He idly kicked a small stone.

"So, uh... what now?  I love what you've done with the place but if its all the same I'd really like to get up to the surface again.  Soon."

As if spending the night in a sewer was not troubling enough, the unidentified pestilence that hung around the place really put Julian into a 'sleeping in an inn far from this place' kind of mood.

"With what has happened Pashin will no longer be safe for you," Shalin said. "But we know of a secret passage and when you're ready to leave, we will show you the way out."

Peter stands proudly, "Is it better to travel your route during night time hours, or day time?  If it is safe during the day, I think we should finish the night's rest before heading out, we don't know when the next time will come to rest."

"You can spend the night with us if you like," Shaylin said.

"In the morn then, before daybreak we should head for your path," Peter said.  He propped himself up against the wall and closed his eyes, drifting into a slumber shortly after ...

The night ends and the morning comes. The elves give you a meager breakfast. Which you shared with Shaylin, who seemingly spent the night with Digorye.

After you've finished your breakfast and it was time to leave, a familiar black dressed elf approached. Shaylin bowed her head towards the group of heroes.

"I believe you already know Naelathan," she murmured softly to you. "He will guide you safely to the passageway that leads both out of these sewers and out of Pashin."

The heroes noted a faint smirk before Naelathan bowed with respect towards Shaylin. "I shall guide them safely Lady Shaylin," he said.

Shaylin offered him a soft smile, before turning back to the heroes. "Naelathan has helped us grately and he will now help you. And so will this." She brought out an ivory scroll tube from a pouch attached to her belt and gave it to one of the heroes.

She then placed her right hand in the palm of her left hand and bowed to the heroes. "Your journey will be difficult and long, but the gods never present us with difficulties we cannot resolve. Have faith, both in them and in yourself. As your focus determines your reality, you will know that it is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness."

As Shaylin turned away, Digorye remained with her. "I will stay here," he said.

"Come on," Naelthan said to the rest of the heroes. "Time's wasting. Let's get out of town before you cause any more problems."

"Hey, I've been completely out of trouble since we got here, thanks to my deft manner and habit of killing evil-doers.  You know, as long as you get all the right people you can stay out of trouble almost indefinitely."

Julian didn't bother elaborating on it since it was clear no one was paying any serious attention to him, so he shrugged and followed their guide hopefully out of the sewers.

Peter took the scroll case with wonder from the elf, before turning to follow Naelathan and Julian, "I have caused no trouble here, I have been wandering seamlessly in the sewers, I haven't harmed a fly."