The rocking motion of the carriage changed as the cobblestone streets of the city turned into uneven brickroad of the Kingdom's highway. Somewhere,a voice shouted in panic. "Please, wake up,you have to go now. wake up, there's danger..." Thunder bellowed and lightning flashed over a weirdly clear sky, and then the carriage tilted.


Before the dream could get any worse or stranger, Oliandra's eyes opened to the still unfamiliar blueish light of the magic stone inserted in the ceiling of the cabin. It emulated the day and night cycle outside,and it slowly growing brighter meant the sun was coming up outside. Only very few cabins on the ship had windows - or fisheyes,as the crew called them. They were hard to replace. The merchant couple owning the ship was very well to do, but not that rich.

The rocking motion of the ship was steady, but heavier and somehow different than last evening. That was to be expected, considering the Falling Star was just now taking to the high seas. It was all very new.

Also new was the cabin mate sleeping below her on the bunk bed. The dwarf woman was snowing loudly, what probably accounted for the thunder in the dream. Attina, as she was called, was the ship's windcaller and wavetalker, which was kind of a shaman for the seas - Oliandra couldn't be sure about that yet because everyone had explained it differently,and Attina hardly ever talked unless it was the magic making the wind and the waves go. And that, she was good at.

Just as Attina's snoring got too loud for comfort, a knock sounded at the door. "Mistress Oliandra? Please check on Ludo? He be puking his guts out again." That shouting small voice was Calla, the smutje,the smut's apprentice. She was only about 11 years or so, but having grown up on the sea she was, in addition to learn how to cook for it's crew, also helping put with everything else that needed doing. One of her duties, so it seemed, was to make sure the healer was where she was needed. there were some jokes going on about that being the case because most of the time the cooking was responsible for sick sailors. "Mistress? You awake?"

"Coming!" Oliandra called out softly. Though she doubted that she was going to wake Attina if the Calla's calls hadn't already, she still tried to be as quiet as possible simply out of courtesy.

The healer climbed awkwardly out of her bed, still somewhat unaccustomed to such sleeping arrangements. This was quite different from her cot back home. Mostly because her old cot didn't bob and sway every few seconds. As her feet hit the deck, a swell caught the ship, tilting the floor under her feet. Oliandra swayed and stumbled a bit, still not having quite gotten her sea legs. She was getting better, but she was still somewhat in awe of the lifelong sailors who seemed to be able to adjust their stance without any thought, walking across a heaving deck as though it were steady land.

Since she never knew when she would be called to aid someone, Oliandra had taken to sleeping in her clothes. So, it was just a matter of slipping on her shoes, grabbing her bag of medicines, and she was ready to go. She stepped out of the cabin and shut the door behind her.

"Where's Ludo?" she asked.

"He feeds the fish on deck," Calla said and quickly made her way up through the ship, only now and then making sure the land rat, as non-sailors were commonly called,could keep up.

Sure enough, in the early morning dawn, Ludo was standing aft, retching into the water, away from the wind. The ugly orc's face was greener than usual, and he looked annoyed - no, rightly pissed - at his predicament. Orcs prided themselves on being able to eat about anything, hardly getting poisoned or sick, and best of all, being able to taste if there was any poison or other bad stuff in food. Which was the main reason the big fella had been picked to assist in the galley, as often enough foods taken on for the crew tended to spoil if the journey was long or the weather conditions wrong. And what was worse for Ludo, he was the only one sick, which made one wonder. Was there such a thing as a disease only affecting orcs? If so, Oliandra had never heard of it, but then, there hadn't been that many orcs in the city - or the kingdom,at that. The wars with the savage northern orcs had been only a century ago, and try as they might, the more developed areas of the world still took a dim view on them. Never mind that the reason the orcs had attacked had had a lot to do with colonialism and racism to begin with.

Ludo looked up and managed a grin before he retched again. By now, only bile came out, but amazingly lots of it. Helifted a hand in acknowledgement but was unable to talk. Calla stared in fascination. "If he'll be keeping this up, he'll be poisoning the fish," she grinned.

Oliandra frowned and shook her head, "If he keeps this up, he'll die of thirst, is what he'll do." She had seen it before, when one of the street rats would catch a disease that sent them running for the chamber pots. Unable to keep liquids and food in their bodies, they withered and died, severely dehydrated, starving, or both.

Not waiting for him to stop puking (because who knew when that would happen), Oliandra reached out and placed a hand upon Ludo's forehead, checking his temperature. However, she did wait for a pause before checking his other vitals... or she waited as best she could. Honestly, if he barfed on her, it wouldn't be the first time she had been covered in filth. It was just one of the hazards of being a healer. But, she'd just as soon avoid it, if possible. Aside from being unpleasant, if he was carrying some disease, she'd like to not catch it herself.

Normally, she'd write it off as Calla's cooking, but the fact that no one else seemed sick gave her pause. Usually, if that was the case, at least two or three of the sailors would succumb to the effects. This was unusual...

No fever, that was for sure. Actually, he seemed a little cold too the touch, and not the sort of cold sweat you'd expect from a fever. He was not sweating at all. His pulses were rather slow, with the exception of in his throat maybe, but that was hard to tell in his current condition.

Abruptly,Ludo stopped retching and belched. This had happened once before,and everyone then had thought Ludo had had too much rum and finally gotten it out of his system. But obviously it had not been the end of it. He was a little grey now, and his breath sounded exhausted. No wonder. Slowly, he sat down on the planks and managed a weak smile. "Feel like a zombie,sister," he whispered. "No good for big strong man like me."

"Maybe yer body finally adapts to yer brain no?" one of the sailor giggled, but it was obvious everyone was worried, and they kept their distance.

"Not been eating any more food," Ludo explained, aware by now what a healer would need to know. "Just bit more watered rum because rum disin.. deson... makes the bad things in food go away sometimes. Also good for small wounds. But not on burns. And water be good for when you can't keep it down." Obviously,the orc was proud of this little knowledge. It sounded like something their former healer had drilled into them. It also sounded like part of a list learned by heart. Most likely, Ludo couldn't read. "Got any bad tasting medicine?" Ludo tried to grin, but he seemed pained. There was a slight tick in his eyes, hardly noticable to anyone not trained to look for it.

Oliandra frowned, becoming more worried. This clearly wasn't a simple case of food poisoning. She gently felt around his neck, near his ears, and under his armpits... places where her teacher had taught her to check for slight swelling that would indicate an internal infection. She also ran a hand across his belly, feeling for tightness and bloating beyond what would be normal for an upset stomach.

"Eh, I'll get ya back on your feet," Oliandra smiled through her concern, trying her best to reassure Ludo even though she hadn't yet come to a conclusion about his condition. "Cap'll kick my ass if you're sitting around on yours all day!"

"Sounds like you're doing what you should," she nodded in approval at the steps he had already taken. "So, let me ask ya... I'm assuming that your stomach hurts. Have a headache? Any other pains? Weakness? Any muscle twitches?"

"Not so much pain as belly making noise. And very stinky farts. Like something died a week ago." Ludo belched again, and that didn't smell pleasant, either. "Feeling a bit weak,too. And yeah sometimes muscles don'tdo as I say. Stiff. Twitchy. But not too much. Helped Jan bring up a barrel of flour earlier."

Checking over the big orc,it was clear he had trouble moving all his joints as fluently as he should be able to at his age. He did not react to being pinched or prodded with a needle and said he could not feel it and his reflexes were slow. This was not something Oliandra had seen before.

There were very few infectious diseases causing a too low body temperature and most of those were magical in origin, except for cholera, otherwise known as run-for-it to the common population. Any of those infections had a tendency to spread very rapidly, and no one else was sick. Poison was most likely here, although it was not blood poisoning - no injury to find but a few non-bleeding scrapes on his hands.

Either someone had given Ludo poison on purpose, or it must have been something he had touched or ingested. Something slow progressing,so maybe it would resolve itself. But looking at the weakened orc, that was not much likely. So what had he been touching no one else had a reason to touch? Or ingested no one else had taken? Everyone shared food resources on the ship.

Tilting her head in thought, Oliandra asked, "What have you been working on, lately? Something that maybe no one else has been helping with?"

"Or... did you maybe have a treat to eat that no one else has had?"

Ludo's forehead wrinkled in an almost threatening looking frown. "Been cleaning the bilge," he said. "Like the work and no one else wants to do it. Caught a few rats and fried them. But Chubbo had a few rats,too." Chubbo, the kobold lookout with only one eye, sort of replaced a ship's cat or rat terrier, which was as well considering the captain was reacting badly to anything with fur, which was one of the reasons he'd taken to the sea. Not that the rest of the crew would not eat rats when necessary, but they did have enough chickens and pigs on board. "And maybe I been drinking more rum than everyone else."

"But you always do that," somone laughed.

"Couldna be as much rum," the black skinned Tarmani carpenter mused. "This time roun' you ain't be emptyin' all them barrels 'fore we get at em."

"Ya well," Ludo said, almost asleep with exhaustion. "Capt'n warned me not to, she did. Ain't no use if everyone but me is dry or gets sick. Now I'm sick, maybe me needs lots of rum to survive."



"Nice try." More laughter from the crew. Most of them started going back to work as Ludo didn't seem about to drop dead right then.

Oliandra sighed. Rats. She had nothing against the rodents. They had as much right to live as any other creature, but they did tend to be a nuisance for anyone in her profession. The little bastards carried all sorts of disease and were absolutely everywhere. It seemed to her like that was the most likely culprit for whatever ailed the sailor, but it still didn't help her with figuring out a way to fix him.

"Alright, big guy," Oliandra patted Ludo on the shoulder and moved to give him a hand up. "Let's get you back  to your bunk. You need to rest. I've got something I can give you to help you keep down food and water, and help with the pain. It's gonna taste like hot shit, but it should make you feel better."

She pulled the orc to his feet, having to plant her feet firmly and lean back with all her might, the sailor far too heavy for her to move easily. She spoke reassuringly to him as she escorted him back to his quarters, though inwardly she was worried that she would loose him. She needed to go report to the captain, let her know what was going on with her sailor, and then find Chubbo. She needed to see if the kobold was also suffering any ill effects, then perhaps do some rat hunting. Maybe there would be a clue on the rats as to what this was and how to treat it.

Ludo was always sleeping somewhere in the cargo hold,given his tendency to talk in his sleep he would have otherwise disturbed the other crew members. In this case, it was a good thing, because he was away from everyone else already.

Ludo fell into an uneasy sleep very quickly,as usual muttering to himself in his native language. His breathing was slow,too - more like one would see from an old person about to die.

"Eh, yo, happening is?" a squeaky and obviously upset voice came from top of some crates. Nothing to see up there, but the voice was definitely Chubbo's. For a race so famed for mischief, the kobold was awfully shy. "Ludo him better?" The blue scaled Chubbo now peaked a snout out,sniffing the air. "Still smell bad, like no good eat. Not that me want eat Ludo, just am saying."

"No, I'm afraid he's not better, yet," Oliandra sighed, still seated beside the now sleeping Ludo. Her hand rested on his chest, silently monitoring the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Worry fluttered in her stomach, but she couldn't let that distract her from trying to figure out what was wrong.

She frowned in thought, looking to the kobold who was still mostly hidden, "Ludo said you both ate some rat. Have you been feeling okay? Did the rat taste funny, to you?"

Oliandra wouldn't be surprised if the kobold was suffering no ill effects, even if the rats did carry something. The tiny lizard-folk were built differently than an orc or human. They could withstand different things. But, it could be that his senses had noticed something amiss that he may not have realized would be a warning sign to anyone else.

"Rat taste fine to me," the kobold said, creeping out from behind the boxes now. He tried very hard to be understandable and spoke slowly. "Not sick, no poison, some fleas. Good rats on ship. Keep good rats, bad rats no come. We fry them good, fire kill bad." He put his snout in the air and sniffed. "Ludo smell weird. Like things we fight last summer."

Curious, she asked, "Last summer? What happened last summer?"

OOC: How far back would last summer be? When is it, now?

(Late Spring)

"Get attacked by big smelly monsters from under water. Not-living things. Sneak up ship. Some long rotten, some fresh." The kobold shuddered. "But all run away from bright light some god-man make. We be bad but light all make them run away. Clean ship for days, still smell bad weeks." Chubbo looked at Ludo thoughtfully. "We not have Ludo then. Ludo would have smash all of them overboard. Ludo has protection thing from his tribe." He pointed to the orc's chest where a simple medallion hung over what looked like a slight black rash. It was made of wood and twine formed a spider web pattern. A common thing to enchant to catch curses. "Says not-living can't get him."

The rash catches Oliandra's eye. She moves the amulet aside so that she can examine it further. Her stomach drops and inwardly, she repeats please don't let it be rot, please don't let it be rot like a mantra. Chubbs has already told her that he smells like the dead. Once a living person's flesh starts to die before the soul has fled, well... usually, the soul isn't far from departing.

But, if it is a rot of some kind, then at least she has a starting point. She doubts that it is leprosy. That doesn't include stomach troubles as a symptom. Gangrene is created a by blood supply being blocked, so it's probably not that. But, dying flesh can be caused by untreated wounds that could cause an infection that might trigger other symptoms...

Of course, it may not be rot, at all. It could be some kind of infection, like a fungus. She carefully begins pushing aside clothing, looking for other places where the rash may be.

On closer inspection, the rash looks like a bad reaction to a substance, or a sensitivity to the material, but Ludo had worn this along time now. The amulet itself looks ages old and about to break.

Oliandra considers the rash, chewing at her bottom lip as she thinks. She continues to look for other patches to see if, perhaps, it has spread to other places on his body. Clearly, there's no way the amulet would cause the rash if he had been wearing it for so long... unless something was changing about Ludo.

The amulet was supposed to protect him from undead things. If he was becoming like those undead, then he would start to react to it. But, the attack was long ago and Ludo wasn't even there for that.

The healer shook her head at herself, tossing the idea aside. No. No, that didn't seem right. There must be something else causing his illness.

No rash anywhere else on the body, but it seemed to be spreading from where the amulet was hanging. So if this was a reaction to Ludo becoming some kind of undead, then there must be a source on the ship. Ludo had been fine at the beginning of the journey, after all.

As far-fetched as it seemed, Oliandra couldn't help but think that all signs were pointing to Ludo changing. If that was the case, who knew how long he had? And, she wasn't even sure that she could stop it, if she was right. After all, she was no priest. But, she had to try!

"Okay, Chubbs. I need your help," she looked to the kobold, her voice tight and serious. "I need for you to find a smell like Ludo, somewhere on the ship. It'll probably be somewhere dark and hidden, somewhere that others don't go very often. Maybe even hidden under something else that might disguise it. Can you do that, for me? I need to go talk to the captain."

As she stands, she adds, "If you find the smell, don't mess with whatever is making it. Leave it alone and come tell me where it is."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:46, Tue 06 July 2021.

"Yes, I can do!" The kobold grimaced in what passed for a smile with him. "Anyone can find,it be me!" Immediately, he turned around 3 times almost like a dog and ran off into the hold.

"Never heard him talk so much," the croaking voice of Brisco, one of the older sailors, was heard from the door to the crew quarters. "He must be really worried about Ludo."

Oliandra sighed and nodded, "I'm worried, too. This isn't something I have seen, before." She glanced back at Ludo's sleeping form, her brow furrowed in worry as she noted how shallow and slow his breathing was. "I'm sorry, Brisco. I can't talk, right now. I need to hurry..."

She started to brush past the old sailor but, then, pulled up short. She stopped, standing at Brisco's side, once again nibbling at her lower lip in thought. After a second of hesitation, she said, "Something is happening to Ludo that I'm not sure I can explain. I'm afraid that he might become a danger to the crew if his illness progresses. If you stay here with him just... be wary. He might reach a point where he's not the Ludo that we know, anymore."

OOC: Pausing here in case Brisco wants to talk some more. But, Oliandra is pretty intent on getting to the captain to warn her of her fears.

Brisco nodded and now he held up a fishing net. "I'll throw this on him if he makes any trouble. But I hope it won't be needed." The old man watched her rush by and went over to the sleeping orc.

Nodding to Brisco, Oliandra quickly departed, leaving the older sailor to watch over Ludo. As she made her way back out to the deck and towards the captain's quarters, the healer found herself quickly running through the orc's symptoms again. She wanted her assessment to be wrong. Oh, how she dearly hoped she was wrong! If she was right, then she had no idea how to cure Ludo. There were no herbs that she knew of that would reverse undeath. Hell, not even most priests knew how to reverse that, as far as she knew. Every priest she had ever talked to only spoke of destroying the undead.

Reaching the captain's quarters, she rapped on the door and waited.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:47, Wed 07 July 2021.

"Come," the captain's voice, which always sounded as if she had just drowned a bottle of rum, called. "I hope it is not any more bad news."

Afraid I'm going to have to disappoint, Oliandra thought sourly as she pushed the door open. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door behind her and stepped further into the cabin.

"We have a problem," she said, her tone grim. She didn't waste time pussyfooting around. "Ludo is sick and the symptoms he has are like nothing I have seen before. At first blush, it looked like simple food poisoning, but that's not the case. Nothing is adding up. On top of that, I don't think he's going to last long. He's fading fast."

"But, here's the really crazy thing," she shook her head, a hint of incredulousness slipping into her voice. "I don't think he's actually sick, like with a natural disease. Chubbs has commented that he smells like the dead things that ya'll fought last summer. And, Ludo has an amulet that is supposed to protect him from undead. He has a rash on his chest, where that amulet touches... and nowhere else on his body that I can find. So, that amulet is reacting to him."

She shook her head, "I know it sounds far-fetched and I seriously hope that I am wrong but... it seems to me that maybe Ludo is becoming undead. If he was just plain, ol' dying, there would be no reason for that amulet to suddenly react. And, he's had that amulet forever. The rash is new."

"I asked Chubbs to find see if he can find a smell like Ludo's here on the ship, but to not do anything if he found anything. I'm hoping that he finds nothing. If he finds no smell, then that probably means that I'm wrong."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head, "I'm still going to assume that I am wrong and keep trying to figure out something else. But, nothing fits. The black rash doesn't fit any rotting disease that I know (which would account for the dead smell.) He's not running a fever. In fact, he feels cold. He's lost some feeling in his limbs, he's weak, he's got some muscle twitches..."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Wed 07 July 2021.

The tall, dark skinned,wiry  woman with the graying black hair and piercing green eyes looked up from a set of maps and books spread out on a table bolted to the planks. On a small brass plate there were writing utensils and parchment. On an altar to Mhyess, goddess of the seas, an everburning candle illuminated a statue of the goddess, and a bit of incense was filling the room with a sweetly scent.

Captain Karr though about the new information fora moment. "I was told Ludo was sick," she said thoughtfully. "But the rest of the crew is fine?"

Her eyes went to the chart on the wall where the cargo and its destination and estimated arrival times were pinned up. "I can divert us to the Jahar if necessary, but I'd rather not jeopardize our deliveries."

Jahar, one of the City of Temples, would accept even quarantined ships,as they all did,and they would certainly be equipped o deal with undead problems,

"Yes, as far as I can tell, everyone else seems okay. No one else has been vomiting or feeling bad. Or, at least, no one else has come to me. It's possible that someone is ill and is just being a stubborn ass, trying to tough it out," Oliandra replied.

"I don't know if that's necessary, yet," Oliandra said, regarding the diversion. She walked over to look at the map, standing before it with her arms crossed. She heaved a deep sigh and turned to look at the captain. "I don't know if I'm right. But, I wanted you to know my fears, just in case. We'll see what Chubbs turns up."

She shook her head, shoulders slumped, "At any rate, I don't think Ludo is going to live. I'm going to keep trying to do everything I can for him but... " Oliandra's voice was soft and sad. She never liked losing someone, but it was inevitable, as a healer. It was a lesson that she had to learn, just as all healers do. You can't save everyone, every time. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try or how much you want to help, they are simply beyond your help.

Lifting her head, the healer squared her shoulders, "I should get back to him. There could be some symptom I missed, a piece of the puzzle that I haven't found."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:33, Thu 08 July 2021.

Captain Karr tapped her chin in thought. "If Ludo's life is in danger and the priests could help him... it would take us a week to Jahar, a few days less if we use up all our stored magic." Her eyes went to the shrine in the corner. "I'll ask Mhyess, but as I am not one of her clerics, I doubt I will get an answer." Then she turned around and reminded the healer. "Chubbo is a kobold, a good-natured one,sure, but he's easy to distract, and on the other hand quick to follow his own tail instead of a trail. Her sees shadows where they are none, and ignores the darkness in front of him. But i have to admit, his nose was always good."

Oliandra nodded in agreement with the captain, "True. But, he's also worried about Ludo. I'm hoping that that worry keeps him on track, because gods know I don't have his nose. If I could sniff this thing out myself, I would."

"Even so... I may still take a look around, myself. I hate to leave Ludo alone but it might be good if I work with Chubbo on this. Maybe I can keep him focused."

"I will have people watch over Ludo,"the captain said. "Yes, better help Chubbo to stay on track and,even more important,to stay out of trouble." With that,the captain returned to her charts, grabbing chalk to redo course calculations, just in case.

"Thank you. Have them come find me if anything changes. I'll go find Chubbo," Oliandra nods to the captain before slipping out of the cabin and starting her search for the kobold. Fortunately, the ship is only so big. So, finding him shouldn't be too much of an ordeal.

She pauses and thinks for a second. She did tell Chubbo that what he was looking for would most likely be in the dark, hidden... So, the most logical place to start would probably be the hold. Thus, she sets off.

The crew, while pretending not to care too much, was throwing looks in Oliandra's direction as she proceeded back down into the hold. Here and there, sailors were whispering to one another.

In the main cargo hold, Ludo was half awake again, talking in an exhausted, but still rumbling voice with Brisco. Apparently, Brisco was interrogating the orc about what he had been doing before he got sick. But Ludo kept insisting he had not done anything he'd not normally do, and he sounded sincere enough.

"Chubbo's been here," Brisco called out as he saw the healer. "He says the whole hold smells like death sipping in, and he has gone to put on some sort of gear or the other. He claims to have been an adventurer once." The old man chuckled. "That, I cannot imagine."

"Ah! I was just looking for Chubbo. I'll wait for him to come back, then," Oliandra nodded and moved to sit beside Ludo.

"How ya feeling, big guy?" She had only been gone for a few minutes, but she still reached out to touch him again, her eyes flicking over his form, looking for any signs she may have missed.

"Could use some rum," Ludo said with a weak smile. "But the old fart here refuses to give me any."

"Not true," the old sailor shouted. "I just said I'd need to ask the healer first!"

Oliandra chuckled, despite herself. She patted Ludo's shoulder and shook her head, "I'm afraid rum would be no good for you, right now. The alcohol dehydrates you. It's why you wake up after drinking a bunch feeling like shit... thirsty and and headachey. With the way you've been throwing up, it's just water for you, for the time being."

Ludo looked crest fallen, but before he could try to persuade anyone, something came thundering down the ladder, Ludo's mouth fell open, and the old sailor seemed to want to force his eyes out of his head.

There was Chubbo, all dressed in well oiled, snug fitting leather armor  and too big helmet held up by a pair of pinkish glasses - also too large and fixed with leather bands to his head. His boots would have fit any of the sailors, and he had stuffed them with old clothes to make them not fall off - one could not really consider them fitting. The kobold was obviously not used to wearing them but not new to doing it,either. His hands had been fitted with artificial claws gleaming in the lamp light. In the same hands he held a small hammer, of the type used to tender meat in the kitchen, with him it looked almost comically oversized. He noticed the looks he was getting and tried to explain. "If it's skeletons, you need smashing, no scratching."

"Was more wond'ring what the smutje'll say you abusin' his hammer," Brisco said.

Chubbo knocked his tail on the planks, his way of shrugging. "He no complain we brake not-living things, yes?" He turned to Oliandra. "Be smelling non-dead stink here in hold all places. Got eye-window.Eye-window only show good stuff. So what you not see with eye-window is evil"


"So," Brisco said after a moment's pause, "you'd walk right into a necro 'tending ta kill ya. Ca't see how that's all helpful."

The kobold looked at the human with what might have been a condescending look, but the pink glasses negated any such effect. "That's why me peek over them so can see both."

Oliandra nodded at Chubbo's assessment of fighting skeletons, "Fair enough. Fortunately, I use a rod when I fight. Give me a minute to go grab it." She snorted softly and added, "I grew up in the slums. Tight quarters. You need short weapons if you are going to be fighting in alleys. My brother used to call it 'the beaty stick.'" The corners of her lips quirked up in a sad, wistful smile for a moment before fading to be replaced with grim determination.

Looking to Brisco, she said, "Chubbo isn't going alone. If there is something there, we'll fight together. If not, then he can help me track down the smell. I'm hoping that whatever we find will be able to help us heal Ludo. I just... I need answers."

"I'll be back," Oliandra said to Chubbo before quickly making her way to her quarters and grabbing her faithful stick o' beating. She hefted it in one hand, mentally preparing herself for what might lay ahead, and returned to the kobold's side.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:24, Mon 19 July 2021.

"Beaty Stick, me like." Chubbo looked at Ludo, who had fallen asleep again,and as soon as Oliandra was back, he led the way into the maze of crates, sacks, barrels, tools and tall, big bellied wooden jugs.

At the moment,the Falling Star was loaded to capacity,everything carefully stacked and roped so that while the ship was deep in the water, nothing would shift when the waves got high. Nothing except a small crate with chicken feed. That was the "luck crate" as the sailors called it. Superstition made them think that if they left one crate untied for any klabauterman or ghost to play with, such beings would not untie the load. Sailors had all sorts of superstitions,all the while faithfully praying to the gods. None of the gods would condone such behavior, but maybe such small traditions were important for a crew.

Chubbo, shoving his glasses around on his nose,stopped between barrels of wine, beer,rum, whiskey, gin and vodka. They were stacked in the middle of the loading dock, in the largest room, and when listening carefully, one could hear the liquids sloshing around inside. "This is where stink come from me think. Can see no evil. Yet." The place did smell like all the alcohol,soaked into the barrels during decades, if not centuries,of use. It also smelled slightly like Healer Banja's classroom about anatomy,where she had kept all the prepared body parts to show her students.

"Alright. Well, let's start looking closer, then," Oliandra's grip tightened upon her rod, her lips set into a grim line of determination. "I'm going to be depending on you to let me know if the smell seems stronger anyplace in particular. I can sort of smell the stink, but I can't pinpoint it. Especially not with the all this alcohol smell."

Carefully, the healer started moving through the crates. She tried her best to tell if the scent of death was getting stronger as she moved, but she knew that her senses were not up to the task. As she passed boxes, she tapped her rod against them, trying to get an idea of what they may contain. Were they filled with something solid? Liquid? Did any of them sound hollow, as though they were mostly empty?

Indeed, one of the large barrels sounded as if it was half empty. It was labeled "Rum."

Oliandra eyed the cask suspiciously. Surely, were the crew using this rum, the cask would've been moved to the galley. It wouldn't make any sense for the cooks to make trips down to the hold every time it was needed. Either something was fishy about this cask, or there were crew who were tapping it secretly... which, honestly, wouldn't surprise her. Still, it merited checking.

"Hey Chubbo... does this one smell any different from the others?" she turned to the kobold, pointing with her rod to the offending cask.

Chubbo jumped down from a crate he had been checking and came running over. His glasses were pushed back and he scratched his ears as he started sniffing. "Bit stronger here but also can smell more rum." He sniffed again and turned around a few times. "Is Ludo's barrel. that why he sick?"

"Maybe," Oliandra's brows furrowed. "Let's get this thing open and see what's inside."

Chubbo blinked."But all the rum will spill. Waste of rum."

"Not if we open it from the top. Let's see if we can find a crowbar or something to jimmy off the lid," Oliandra turns in a circle, looking around for something that might help. Surely, the crew has some tools like that stashed around somewhere.

A crowbar was easy to find,although the tool had seen better times it was very usable. As Chobbo considered himself the stron hero he tried to open it himself, but his skills really were in speed and maneuvers, not strength. Together, it was easy enough to open.

As the top came off, the smell was that of rum and... something rotten. There was some sloshing movement, and the two of them had just enough time to see the undead creature kept from rotting further by the alcohol rising up. It was a corpse with half the flesh fallen off, but the cause of death was still easy enough to see. Someone had carved his belly open and the intestines were still hanging out.

"Eeech!" Chuoobo screeched and fell backwards to avoid the grasping hands.

As a healer, Oliandra was no stranger to death. However, this was something else entirely different from a simple corpse. A dead body, no matter how mangled and grotesque, was not a danger (outside of possible disease and contaminants.) Seeing something like this moving around like a profane parody of life was stomach churning.

She stumbled back a step, lips and jaw clenched against the natural urge to vomit at the smell and sight. Still, she did not retreat. Despite the twisting in her gut and the fear that danced at the edges of her consciousness, Oliandra hefted her rod and swung at the creature. It could not be allowed to exist. It had to be destroyed, for the safety of everyone on the ship and she would not put anyone else in danger if it could be helped. with any luck, she and Chubbo could kill this thing...

OOC: 15:09, Today: Oliandra rolled 1 using 1d6.  Attack. (Brave but ineffective...)