It was hard work but finally the warforged had a crematory oven big enough for the goliath. Waiting for the temperature to raise as high as possible before putting the bodies in it, he started to strip the unfortunate victims of their possession, thinking that maybe this equipment could be useful to someone living. An hour later, with the infected corpses burning and the equipment all sanitized with water and spells, he looked at what he had gathered. He quickly inventoried the packs, made for exploring outdoors and underground, with climbing gear mixed in and a very fine rope, that he admired a while.  A small painter’s kit was in a wooden box, but there was nothing to paint on, which intrigued him. Weapons consisted of a many notched great axe and a particularly fine greatsword. The leather armor was serviceable, but the large size plate armor was in bad disrepair, not that it would stop the artificier. And a small gem tucked in a leather pouch.

But the most intriguing object was a metal amulet depicting a dragon. Looking at it for a long time, the fog of his memory lifted for a second and, delicately passing his huge finger on the fine engraving, he knew that this was a holy symbol. And he knew who this represented.

Bahamut.

He looked to the funeral pyre he had created and said.

The goliath was a follower of Bahamut.

On a sudden impulse, he got his jade rock out of the pouch he preciously kept the fragments of the smashed… was he trying to recreate a holy symbol? Already he could see that the jade was finely engraved with a pattern he was still not able to decipher.

But why is this significant? Who is this symbol representing? Why must it be repaired?

But he got no answers from either Clacker or Scamp, nor did a divine light shone on him, giving him the insight he was looking for. Slumping his shoulders, his way of doing a sigh, he packed the dragon symbol with his jade rock and stretched his biomechanical arms. He did have a long day and he was now near his rest period, his last one interrupted by fevers and nightmares. He needed to stay close to the pyre to make sure it would entirely consume the infected bodies anyway so he added more wood to the fire and installed himself to rest, like he had done hundreds of time before, his menagerie keeping him safe.

Sand Int roll to pierce the memory veil : 19
Sand Religion roll : 22

Leave Vertigo? When did that get decided? I know these mushroom spores are an issue but that seems drastic. Take a breath, Althaea. Do not say something you will regret.

Seeing a suitable place to sit for the moment, I slowly lowered myself to the ground, before my legs could decide to do so for me. Looking up to Thorn, "I do not remember discussing any plans to leave other than to the Keep or is that what you are referring to?"

My brain was not functioning at its normal capacity due to my symptoms, there may have been conversations I am not remembering. I am sure my jaunt through the forest did not help in my recovery.

"What exactly are we discussing with Thorin and Alicia? Quarantining residents until they have been cleared of contracting the infection? I apologize, my head is cloudy, it is hard to remember recent conversations."

I took a few shaky breaths as the chills settled in again. This day could not be over soon enough.

Rolland struggled with his words, coughing and continuously trying to take deep breaths: The Breach, Andraste.  There is a small fishing village next to the Breach.  The mushrooms...reside there.

We fled the village and the Gnolls picked up our trail.  Been running ever since...
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 13:32, Wed 07 July 2021.

"I see." I offer him some water. "Here this should help." Once he had taken a few swallows and his breathing settled down some I continued, "Did the mushrooms...Were there any survivors in the village? How far away was this?

The town is about one week's travel from here, to the Northeast.  The fishing village was abandoned when I arrived, which is why I holed up there.  I...I just needed to be alone.

Rolland's eyes glazed over for about three or four seconds, before refocusing as if coming back from a dark place.  He looked at Andraste with sudden realization in his eyes:

You can't go there Andraste!  There's nothing you can do to stop them.  Please, promise me you're not going there!

"I am sorry but I cannot promise that but rest easy; I am not going anywhere just yet. Besides if we all believed that then no one would stand against the dark and I do not want to think what our lives would be then." Reaching out I carefully grasp his shoulder, trying to offer what comfort I can. "Who is this them you mentioned?".

The mushrooms, of course!  They aren't all just fungi...some are...well, they are alive.  I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me! They are not only sentient, but demonic in nature.  I only escaped because of my friends.  Without them, I would have already been lost.  Rolland eyes seem to get lost in another place, tears welling up in his eyes.

They saved me and now they are dead.  They didnt deserve what happened to them.  They were good people Andraste, like you.  You have to promise me you wont go there.  I cant let what happened to them, happen to you too!

Sitting up, Rolland begins sobbing uncontrollably, and slumps into Andraste's embrace.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:19, Thu 08 July 2021.

The construct had a much better rest period than the last one and no nightmares came to trouble him. As his biomechanical systems came back to operational status, Sand rose from his lotus position he rested in and looked at his crematory oven. The bodies inside were barely recognizable as such and he nodded, satisfied. It would be improbable that the fungus had survived that.

Leaving the oven alone for now, he had a second look at the possessions he had taken from the deceased. The rope and the box were certainly magical, but he wasn't sure what they did. And that sword intrigued him, it was in much too good repair compared to the armor the goliath was wearing. In no hurry, he started the slow version of his identify spell, taking the full half hour it needed for three casting of the spell.

The magic having given him the answers he sought, he then he turned his attention to the plate armor. It would be way too big for any of his companions to wear without massive modifications and repairs. Nodding as a smile, he thought that this was not an issue at all, as this was what he liked to do, provided he could be given access to a forge. And he knew just where to find that. He wondered if his friend Andraste would want him to size the armor to her slender frame, she seemed to like wearing a lot of armor. If not... he had his little idea on what to do.

Ready to move on, he used his water and earth magic to extinguish and collapse the oven, burying it under tons of soil. Ritual casting his floating disk again, he dropped the items on it, keeping with him the magic rope, paint, holy symbol and sword, the scabbard on his back. Sending Scamp as a scout, he started his slow walk back to Vertigo, his mission accomplished.

"I have been presumptuous," Thorn murmured bowing her head lower in apology. "I had not thought you intended to stay in Vertigo indefinitely. As to Thorin, a quarantine will need to be organized. The disease is spreading with alacrity and brings quick death of a sort will only cause more to become infected. And I have reason to believe that Alicia may have valuable information about this phenomenon."

She hoped that would be sufficient to spur the Eladrin to action so Thorn wouldn't have to explain matters multiple times, but if she knew anything about nobility, it was that they did exactly as they wished insofar as they could get away with it. So she stood submissively before Althaea and awaited her response.

Looking to Thorn, "My mother sent me specifically here, so in Vertigo I will stay until such time as I am no longer needed. If you believe Alicia has information that will benefit us, then we shall speak to her. I just need a moment to regain my footing."

After a few minutes, the chills I had been experiencing subsided enough that I would be able to walk. I stood up and motioned to Thorn to proceed. On our way to Alicia's quarters we spotted Thorin and Sebastian, so we stopped to speak to them before we spoke to her.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:04, Wed 14 July 2021.

Her mother, some sort of queen of the Feywilds, had sent her to Vertigo? As a punishment, it seemed extremely indulgent, but Thorn could think of no other reason. Unless the significance of this place had escaped her entirely. But clearly this was not the time to press Althaea for answers.

As they approached Thorin and Sebastien, a newcomer drew her attention. The woman's manner and appearance were sufficiently striking to cause all of Thorn's carefully-prepared words to fly from her head and she looked at Thorin uncertainly.

Insight (Blackweather): 15
This message was last edited by the player at 13:07, Mon 12 July 2021.

Thorn and Althaea found Thorin and Sebastian in the inn, where a make-shift quarantine area had been set up for the infected.  Thorin, hearing their approach turned to face the pair, and that's when they saw her.  Standing behind Thorin, across one of the beds of the infirmed, was a woman never seen in Vertigo.  Her hair was a dull silver, her eyes a piercing green.  Even inside the inn, the woman had her hood drawn up and around her head.  The most noticeable thing however, was the large scar underneath her left eye.  The wound itself looked fresh and extremely sore.  The woman wore a scowl on her face and looked jittery and anxious, but not in a nervous way.



Hello there Thorn, Althaea.  It's a pleasure to see you both again.  Great news!  This woman here, Victoria Blackweather, says she has a cure for the mushroom plague, coupled with Erik helping us to determine who is sick, so we may be on the road to recovery!  We've already administered the first dose to one of the infected, and it seems to be working quite well.  We have enough ingredients to make a batch large enough for the entire population.  I'm leaning towards doing that.

Thorin stepped forward, leaning in closer to the two so as if not to be heard, and whispered, I know it's a little strange that she just showed up out of nowhere, but she says she heard of our dilemma and came immediately.  I made sure to thoroughly test the concoction to ensure it was not only safe, but pure in its ingredients.  I tried it myself, even though I'm not infected, to make sure there were no ill side effects or that there was magic involved in its making.  To be honest, I don't know why she's helping us or how she even got inside our gates.  Maybe we didn't notice with all the chaos.  There's something off about her, but our people are recovering, and quickly.  I don't want to look this gift horse in the mouth, when we are in such a dire situation.

Thorin steps aside, showing one of the guardsman that was manning the wall, laying in bed asleep.  He seems to be breathing normally and without discomfort.  Sebastian grabs a chair and sits backwards on it, his arms laying on the chair's back. He sits next to the guard, focused on being at his side, leaving Thorin to do the all the talking.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:49, Mon 12 July 2021.

As their decision to admit Thorn had made abundantly clear, the people of this settlement were far too trusting. But this was absurd. And welcome, as it reminded her of one of the fundamental laws of nature: the weak and foolish perished while the strong and cunning survived. That was the crucible which had forged her. She would not forget again.

As far as Thorn was concerned, no further action was necessary. Vertigo would live or, infinitely more likely, die by its own choices. But if her companion disagreed, she would abide. She glanced over at Althaea to see how the female would react.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:20, Mon 12 July 2021.

As I walked into the inn, walking being a bit of a stretch as it was more of a stumble, I saw a new face standing behind Thorin and Sebastian. The woman had her hood drawn, even inside. Even with her hood drawn, a few of her features were noticeable; bright, green eyes, dull silver hair, and a fresh wound under her left eye. It was difficult to tell with her hood up but her features appeared human. Victoria, as Thorin called her, kept fidgeting as I watched her. It made her seem very antsy as if she was in a hurry to leave, but something else was keeping her here.

As Thorin spoke, I felt such a rush of relief. "That is great news! I was worried about how we were going to deal with this. I was not infected, but the exposure took its toll on me nonetheless. Knowing that it is being taken care of, I can relax and focus on my continued recovery. I, for one, did not see her slip inside, but I was not fully in my senses last night. She does seem a bit odd. Did she say where she got that wound, it still looks sore."

While waiting for Thorin to respond, my gaze kept being drawn back to Miss Blackweather.

Insight: 20 (1d20+3)
Perception: 20 (1d20+5)

When I first saw this unfamiliar woman standing inside our walls, I was a little worried as well.  While she seems nervous about something, she explained that she is here to help.  I did ask her if there was anything I could do for her sore, being skilled in the magical arts of healing, but she said that she was fine and that I shouldn't trouble myself with such things.

I pressed further of course, but she grew quite dark, adamantly saying that there was nothing I or anyone could do for her and that the people of Vertigo should be what I am concerned with, not her.

I let it go at that point and that's when I brought her here and begun the testing of this cure.  It really is quite remarkable and yet so simple, once you understand it Kali.  Victoria and I had a long discussion about it.

It seems the cure is just highly purified water mixed with some herbs that are actually quite common.  Apparently, this engineered infectious disease uses the mucus of an aboleth in its creation, that causes an internal suffocation to the host.  The highly purified water is what dilutes the mucus and allows the host to breathe normally again.  The mushrooms that we saw growing inside the bodies aren't what killed them.  This disease just creates the perfect environment to accelerate the mushroom's growth, so we THOUGHT that is what killed them.  It's quite fascinating, isn't it?  While the cure might be simple, whomever engineered this disease...is a diabolical genius.

"I am not much of a healer, knowing only basic remedies, so I doubt I would be much help to her. I was just curious if she had received any treatment for it.

An aboleth, you say? They are not native to the Feywild, so I do not know much about them. They sound like nasty business. It is curious how one would engineer a disease from its mucus, but that has never been my area of expertise. Hopefully, I never meet the person who did. You seem to have this situation fully under control. Any word on how the hunters are doing? The curse they are under has to be taking a toll on them.

Intelligence: 9 (1d20+1)

Not knowing whether Victoria could hear you the whole time, or if suddenly your words peaked her interest, but she closes the short distance between you quickly and says, You have MORE injured here? She says with an exasperated tone.

What have they been cursed with?  You know what, it doesn't matter.  Just show me where they are and I will see if I can help them.  Victoria pushes past you to the door and looks back with annoyance.  Are you going to show me the way or not?

Looking back to Sebastian, "She may be speaking to me, but the question Miss Blackweather is asking is directed at you, Sebastian. I have been in quarantine for the past day, I do not know the current whereabouts of the hunters."

Turning back to Victoria, "Miss Blackweather, I do not mean to dismiss your abilities; however, how much do you know of the Feywild? The curse they are suffering from is caused by ingesting food native to my home plane. In my many years of life, a cure has not been known to counteract the effects of eating the food while on the material plane."

Sebastian looks up from the body of the guard, when hearing his name.  The hunters were relocated to the room where the Drow elf's body was...disposed of.  Sebastian says, looking at Thorn.

Sebastian puts his head back in his hands, his full attention now back with the infected guard.


I know a bit about the Feywild, Althaea was it?, but even more about curses.  Just show me where this cave is, and I'll see what I can do.  How long have they been afflicted?

Victoria sways from side to side,  unable to keep herself still, as she waits for you to begin moving, so she can follow.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:44, Wed 14 July 2021.

An aboleth? Thorn knew something of the aberrations, but that did not quite fit the facts of this case as she understood them.

While she may be personally indifferent to Vertigo's fate, it seemed to matter to Althaea and Thorn had a vested interest in proving herself to the Eladrin, so she patiently awaited an opportunity when everyone else was distracted and gently nudged the female, quickly tapping her own temple. Should they continue traveling together, they would need to establish a proper system of silent communication, but she hoped for the moment this would indicate that she wished to speak telepathically to Althaea.

A moment later, she felt her companion initiate the link. Suppressing her discomfort at the unwelcome intimacy, she briefly conveyed the relevant facts:

Aboleths do produce mucus that can cause victims to be capable of breathing only under water or to suffer acid burns if not submerged. But I am unaware of any racial connection to mushrooms. Or necromancy, she added darkly. And their psychic powers can enslave.

There was more, and worse, but that should suffice for Althaea to determine whether she wished to pursue the matter.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Thu 15 July 2021.

I have no desire to be enslaved. Solving the matter in its entirety can be someone else's problem.

As I lead Victoria to the cave, I answer her query. "Yes, my name is Althaea. The hunters have not been infected for long, between three and five days. The exact time, I am not sure. They were held captive by a Satyr before we freed them.

Althaea's appearance always had an ethereal presence around her, but at the mention of the Satyr, a dark look crossed her face. Her features twisted maniacally for a moment, which would give pause to even the most brave-hearted. There was a deep-seated hatred there, that much was clear to anyone watching the exchange.

If it wasn't for Thorn slipping to the back of the group, the coincidence might have been lost, as at the exact moment when Althaea said the word Satyr, Victoria stumbled, falling forward with her hand grabbing the only purchase she had, which was Althaea's shoulder.

When Althaea turned around and Victoria saw the darkness and anger in her face, she immediately thought it was directed at her.  I'm sorry, I..uh...tripped on a rock or something.  Didn't mean to startle you.  Are...are we um...almost there?

At Victoria's words, the look of darkness and anger left Althaea's face, almost as quickly as it came. "It is quite alright, Miss Blackweather. Are you hurt?" As Althaea helped Victoria to regain her balance, she pointed to a cave on the right. "We are close. The cave entrance is just ahead."

As the group was finally reaching the cavern where the hunters were, as Althaea pushed aside the curtain on the cave entrance, Victoria, a bit more careful about her actions, softly pushed past Althaea, seemingly in a rush. Strangely enough, after just pushing past, she turned to both Althaea and Thorn and said without emotion:

If you both would be so kind as to each bring me a bottle at least as tall as two stacked apples?  I'll need these in order to draw their blood and the curse, out of their system.  Please only one bottle carried by each of you; it is important to the process.

With that, Victoria turned back around, and marched over to Althidon's bed, sat down, and began whispering to him, her hand on his shoulder.

The hunters both briefly looked up, in hopes to drink in Althaea and all her wondrous beauty, however seeing the wood elf who brutishly roughed up Darcassan standing there with her, they both averted their eyes to just about everywhere else in the cave, BUT the direction of where Thorn and Althaea stood.

That is an odd request.

No matter how odd the request sounded to Althaea, she nodded and left the cavern. Making her way back to the inn, she quickly found the item Victoria asked for and returned to the chambers the hunters were in and waited.