A pair of large heavily scarred greenish-grey hands grab hold of Daryos once his fingers slide inside the opening. For a moment, the young noble fears that his whole body is going to be ripped through the small hole in the door as he pulls his hands farther beyond the door. He can feel warm moist air coat his hands, and he assumes that they are very close to the mouth of whatever is inside. His hands are rapidly turned over and twisted. After what feels like the longest ten seconds of his life, the person inside releases his hands. As Daryos pulls his hands back out of the opening, he can still feel the points on his wrists where the persons fingers had pressed hard into his skin. "Alright... You can come in... but I need to see yer friends hands too if they want in."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The young white-haired noble warily steps inside the butchery, feeling a bit violated but smiling politely at the butcher, looking around the interior and taking a closer discerning look at the butcher himself.
Kitaer is watching this whole procedure very closely, to jump in if violence ensues but also just curious to see if this is a normal method of trying to detect the disease or not. (Insight? Nat 20 for a 19...)
Kitaer himself is leaning towards waiting outside. Unless he feels differently from the roll this seems like a non hostile situation and he thinks perhaps a big beast like him, all covered in fur and such, is maybe not the best guest for one so cautious as this butcher. Besides, he figures he can get through the door if it sounds like he is needed. Instead he'll stand guard outside and trust Daryos to ask the pertinent questions...
"If you aren't coming inside, Get back from the door... Otherwise I need to see yer hands!" The figure behind the door barks. Anyone else that places their hands inside the door gets the same treatment. The figure isn't violent, but his large hard hands are far from gentle as he pulls you closer for inspection. Each of you feel the warm and wet breath of whoever is inside against your finger tips before he releases you from his grasp.
Kitaer watches this inspection taking place for those wanting to enter the shop and feels very confident that it seems to make sense... although from outside you arn't really sure why the butcher doesn't seem concerned with potentially touching infected hands...
After the butcher inspects those that wish to come inside, you hear a few loud clicks and the sound of a bolt being slid behind the door. The door opens slowly revealing an old half-orc wearing a common clothes mostly covered by a bloodstained white apron. "Get in here then... I don't like keeping the door open." He grumbles as he ushers you inside. Once the last of the party that was inspected steps inside, he shuts to door behind them before locking it.
Inside the shop, the first thing you all notice is how clean and tidy it is inside. Although the dirty windows outside the shop made it difficult to see inside, now that you are inside you can see rows of salted meats hanging from hooks lining the walls in neat rows. The wooden floors creak slightly under your feet but are free of dirt or debris. If you didn't know any better, you would think that you had stepped into an upper-class butchers shop straight out of Waterdeep. The weathered old half-ork has ashy-charcoal colored skin with pale white scarring all around his eyes and covering his hands as well. He pushes past the party and moves behind the counter where he has a variety of seasonings in small containers lined up in front of him. "So... What can I get you?" He grumbles while looking in the direction of the party. As you watchin him, you realize he isn't exactly making eye contact with any of you. Looking closer you can see that his once dark brown eyes appear cloudy.... as though whatever caused the heavy scaring around his eyes may have also damaged his eyesight.
As Daryos looks around the room... He believes it to be a standard butcher shop. Other than noticing all the heavy scars covering the half-orc, he also notices that most of the meat doesn't appear to be beef, pork, or even chicken.... but instead he gets the feeling it is instead giant rat, sea gull, and and any other animals he may be able to trap in the quarantine zone...
Nesyax puts her hands inside to be inspected as well. She talks to the man on the other side of the door the whole time. "This seems an unusual way to check for disease. What are you looking for exactly? Is it something you could teach? I'll bet it's really valuable to know how to identify folks." She tries to see if she can get him to share anything about what he's doing. (Persuasion: 22)
Once inside, she takes a look around, keeping an eye out for anything unusual or of interest. (Perception: 21)
After her unsure inspection of the meats the previous day, Vesna feels like it would be best for her to wait outside and keep Kitaer's company. She casually looks around while waiting for the rest of the group (perception 9 in game log), a bit distracted by her thoughts about the day ahead.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
"You must be new here... Strange for new folks not to be sick.... Makes me wonder what yer doin here..." The figure grumbled as he inspected Nesyax's hands from behind the door. "Folks with Weeping pox are burning up with fever... and on top of that they got blisters and lesions all over their skin. If you were infected, yer hands would feel like they were on fire and would either be covered in sores. You'd be yippin like a kicked dog if you were sick and I grabbed yer hand like that." The figure grunts before opening the door
Once inside, Nesyax fails to see any signs of dust or dirt inside the shop. The meat... although not traditional... seems to be perfectly processed and you imagine fine to eat. You can tell that a great deal of skill went into carving the cuts of meat and that this shop has likely been around for many years. Turning to look at the half-orc when he asks what you want, you notice the scars covering his hands and around his eyes. You also notice the damage to his eyes as he looms over the counter, his head swaying from side to side as though he were looking to each of you.
“Not really our job,” Kitaer says offhandedly to Verna after the others have gone inside. “Making the city better. Helping people. All that… But maybe it is?”
Kitaer pauses for a beat but then continues. “Seeing that girl and her dog in the tavern with the disease. Kind of heartbreaking. Not my problem but still… I’d help if I knew how, yeah?” He says, shifting from foot to foot a bit, uncomfortable. “Been thinking… a company needs customers, yeah? Trading partners. Buyers and sellers. So maybe helping however we can is our job?”
Those standing outside notice a few disheveled looking individuals moving through the streets... you recognize some of them as some of the new arrivals from the day before. A couple of people emerge from inside the Wet Weasel a bit down the road... shielding their eyes as they look around and try to decide how they want to spend the rest of their lives...
Across the street, the old man shouts towards Vesna and Kitaer. "Hey! Hey you! Can I interest you all in some carrots? Perhaps some potatoes? or... I even have some berries..." The old man gestures to his meager cart of goods before sitting down in a flimsy wooden chair nearby.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Well, what kind of meat do you have to offer us?" The young white-haired noble says, moving about slightly, trying to determine if the butcher is indeed blind, or at least have very poor eyesight.
Perception: 16
"And to answer your question, we came here yesterday to hunt monsters. I admit we didn't know about the plague but we will of course do what we can to not contract it."Daryos politely explains, standing to face the butcher now. "I suspect you know more than most about this plague, you have had it yourself but you survived, am I right? We would be very intrerested to hear if you have any theories on why you survived while most others don't. Could it be your orcish heritage perhaps?"He continues in a very polite and sincere tone.
The half-orc takes a step back, his mouth opening in disbelief revealing a set of small tusks. "Well how in the hells do you end up hunting monsters here... In Liesech, the single most Weeping Pox infested city in all of Etharis... without KNOWING about the Weeping Pox..." He shakes his head in disbelief. "Not only are you in Liesech... You are in the section of Liesech where they ship infected folks from ALL OVER the place. Half of em don't even survive the trip here... the other half wander around for a couple days looking for a comfortable place to die... but some... well some folks like myself are too stubborn to give in to the plague." The butcher grumbles before scratching a particularly large scar running along the side of his neck.
As he is talking to Daryos, the noble notices that he is looking in his direction... but isn't exactly picking up on all of his movements. You are fairly certain that he can at least make out the shapes of you and your companions, but probably cannot see much more than that.
With a large sigh, the grouchy half-orc shakes his head once more., "I was one of the first to catch Weeping Pox... not just in town... but in all of Etharis. Weeping Pox started here in Liesech after all. I've always been pretty hardy... Lots of red meat helps keep a man strong... that an a fine woman. "He pauses for a moment, his eyes moving to the floor." We didn't know how the Weeping Pox worked then... and when I got sick my wife helped to care for me. She kept me bandaged to prevent infection when my skin tore open" He says as he gestures towards the scars across his face and hands. "And cool water to help keep my body from burning up from fever. She didn't know that all the while she was helping me... she was dooming herself... but I don't think she would have done anything differently even if she knew it... She was just as stubborn as I am. I could barely lift my head when I noticed that she had caught the pox... I had to watched her die as I laid in bed helpless to help her." The burly half-orc grumbles before scratching a scar on the top of his hand.
The butcher slaps the counter, and looks away... before wiping his face with his arm. After a few seconds he turns and looks back towards the group. "As for what what kind meat I've got... use yer eyes! I offer the finest meats around... at least on this side of the blockade." He adds with a bit of a frown. "Supply ain't what it used to be. I used to cater meat to royalty! Now I'm stuck catching rats and other critters around here to keep my business going." He balls his large hardened hand into a fist in frustration before taking a few deep breaths. In a few moments he seems to calm down and looks back to the party, when he relaxes his hand, a simple ring made of polished bone catches your eye resting on his finger.
Stasyn is genuinely impressed with the half-orc's gumptions and skill to not only survive but to be able to continue running a business in the quarantined zone. "I would say your stubbornness has served you well as compared to the rest of this place this shop is impressive that you can not only keep it running but do so while staying safe yourself. Since you have been here for so long have you heard of any monsters within the quarantined zone or bizarre happenings?"
From the looks of things, we can indeed shop her for our future meals thought the idea of eating rats is rather distasteful. Oh well at least it is better than starving.
"I presume you are saying that your wife's exposure to you was what doomed her? Or was there something specific she did that she shouldn't have?" Nesyax asks. "And perhaps you recovered because of her efforts?" she tries to clarify. "And do I presume from your concern about those that have the disease that you could potentially catch it again even though you already had it and recovered?"
"Yes, she caught the weeping Pox while caring for me." The half-ork replies. "And as Fer catching it sgain... once you survive the pox once, you are immune... but I don't let the infected for a bunch of reasons. Fist reason being that they'll contaminate my goods if they come in here and start getting hands with the merchandise. Second reason is they got nothing to lose... you cannot trust the infected cause if they want something, they are likely to just try to take it." He shakes his head and gestures to the door. "If yer sick, I deal with you through the opening... you don't get to come inside."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"I am so sorry for your loss, truly..."The young white-haired noble says with genuine concern. "...I suppose it is your strong will to survive and keep your business running that brought you through your sickness. If you think of anything that might have helped you survive the plague please tell us though, it would be in all our interests to find a cure. Speaking of which, what can you tell us about these Morbus Doctore? When did they turn up? Quite quickly after the first appearence of the plague?"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Meanwhile, Vesna looks up at Kitaer, her expression clearly showing her surprise. "You really do think that?" she tries not to sound too sceptical, but truth to be told, she didn't expect the giant intimidating-looking minotaur to be thinking about helping and saving others. Somehow, she had perceived him to be more of the brute-type, but clearly, she shouldn't judge a book by its cover. At the thought, she realises she's being rude and blushes a bit. "I am sorry. I meant to say, my focus to come here was so I could help people. It is what I've done for as long as I can remember. I assumed everybody else had different priorities..." she tries to explain herself nervously as she recalls the previous day's conversation with the Acquisition Inc CEO, and almost jumps up as she hears the old guy calling out to them.
The cleric offers Kitaer an excusing smile, before turning her attention to the old man, approaching his cart a bit unsurely. "Good morning, sir. How's business around here?"
Perception: 20
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
"Not saying help others at the expense of ourselves, exactly," Kitaer answers with an uneasy shrug. "But when you can do both... Help yourselves and others... How can you not?"
Kitaer's attention is drawn to the old man as well, though his hand reaches out in front of Vesna - Not restraining her but close enough so he maybe could if she decided to head right over to the man and his cart. Caution first... As such, Kitaer eyes the man up from his vantage across the street, doing his best to discern if the man is showing signs of sickness or not. ((Perception: 2-1 for a 1...)) Deciding the many must be healthy enough Kitaer starts slowly walking over towards him.
"A good stew sounds like it could be in the making," Kitaer says with a bit of a hungry grin. "Let's have a look at what you've for sale. You grow this yourself, do you?"
Looking back to Nesyax, The butcher continues. "My survival was largely due to the help from my wife... make no mistake. I've seen folks bigger than me die from it... The Weeping pox is nothing to take lightly." He finishes with a huff. "The best way to survive is to find a powerful cleric. Word is that some of the real powerful spells that only the best clerics know can cure it in an instant. Weaker forms of healing can help.. but are no guarantee." He scratches the back of the neck "Although these days just finding a cleric is almost impossible... and well... a lot of the ones that are still around arn't what they used to be."
"As fer the Morbus Doctore... the're bad news. The Morbus Doctore appeared shortly after the the Weeping Pox showed up. Wearing strange coats and masks meant to protect them from the disease, they wander the city looking for newly infected people. But only a fool would submit to their treatments.... they're known to conduct unbearable experiments on their “patients”. They seem to be convinced that the Weeping Pox actually is a blessing that must be studied, exploited, and controlled to bring humanity forward to a new level of existence. like the Weeping Pox themselves they spread over all of Etharis building bases to help the people for exorbitant prices, as they were the only ones seemingly possessing a cure for the terrible illness." The half-orc rants... leaning heavily on the counter.
Outside, Vesna and Kitaer approach the old man and his vegetable cart. As they get closer, they notice his skin looks much like an old leather glove covered with a thin layer of white hair. "OH Hello! Business is... well Slow. Can I interest you in some of my harvest?" he asks with a mostly toothless grin while leaning forward across his cart. As he looks you up and down, he stands a little straighter... "Strange... you folks don't look sick. What are you all doin here? You two criminals?"He points a boney finger towards vesna and then towards Kitaer. "You're a big fella arn't ya? you ever kill anyone?"He tilts his head and looks up at the minotaur for a few long awkward seconds before turning to look at Vesna. "There are only three types of people stuck here in the quarantine The currently sick.... the was sick... and criminals. It's cheaper to send prisoners here than to care for them in a prison you know." he then lifts his three fingers and counts them before raising a forth finger. "Oh, almost forgot... and the dead. Lot's of them here."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
With some hesitation, Daryos shows his hands to the man behind the door, hoping he will get them back too.
A pair of large heavily scarred greenish-grey hands grab hold of Daryos once his fingers slide inside the opening. For a moment, the young noble fears that his whole body is going to be ripped through the small hole in the door as he pulls his hands farther beyond the door. He can feel warm moist air coat his hands, and he assumes that they are very close to the mouth of whatever is inside. His hands are rapidly turned over and twisted. After what feels like the longest ten seconds of his life, the person inside releases his hands. As Daryos pulls his hands back out of the opening, he can still feel the points on his wrists where the persons fingers had pressed hard into his skin. "Alright... You can come in... but I need to see yer friends hands too if they want in."
The young white-haired noble warily steps inside the butchery, feeling a bit violated but smiling politely at the butcher, looking around the interior and taking a closer discerning look at the butcher himself.
Insight: 8 + Guidance: 4
Perception: 10
Seeing Daryos hands remain intact Stasyn steps forward and raises his hand up high ready for inspection.
Kitaer is watching this whole procedure very closely, to jump in if violence ensues but also just curious to see if this is a normal method of trying to detect the disease or not. (Insight? Nat 20 for a 19...)
Kitaer himself is leaning towards waiting outside. Unless he feels differently from the roll this seems like a non hostile situation and he thinks perhaps a big beast like him, all covered in fur and such, is maybe not the best guest for one so cautious as this butcher. Besides, he figures he can get through the door if it sounds like he is needed. Instead he'll stand guard outside and trust Daryos to ask the pertinent questions...
"If you aren't coming inside, Get back from the door... Otherwise I need to see yer hands!" The figure behind the door barks. Anyone else that places their hands inside the door gets the same treatment. The figure isn't violent, but his large hard hands are far from gentle as he pulls you closer for inspection. Each of you feel the warm and wet breath of whoever is inside against your finger tips before he releases you from his grasp.
Kitaer watches this inspection taking place for those wanting to enter the shop and feels very confident that it seems to make sense... although from outside you arn't really sure why the butcher doesn't seem concerned with potentially touching infected hands...
After the butcher inspects those that wish to come inside, you hear a few loud clicks and the sound of a bolt being slid behind the door. The door opens slowly revealing an old half-orc wearing a common clothes mostly covered by a bloodstained white apron. "Get in here then... I don't like keeping the door open." He grumbles as he ushers you inside. Once the last of the party that was inspected steps inside, he shuts to door behind them before locking it.
Inside the shop, the first thing you all notice is how clean and tidy it is inside. Although the dirty windows outside the shop made it difficult to see inside, now that you are inside you can see rows of salted meats hanging from hooks lining the walls in neat rows. The wooden floors creak slightly under your feet but are free of dirt or debris. If you didn't know any better, you would think that you had stepped into an upper-class butchers shop straight out of Waterdeep. The weathered old half-ork has ashy-charcoal colored skin with pale white scarring all around his eyes and covering his hands as well. He pushes past the party and moves behind the counter where he has a variety of seasonings in small containers lined up in front of him. "So... What can I get you?" He grumbles while looking in the direction of the party. As you watchin him, you realize he isn't exactly making eye contact with any of you. Looking closer you can see that his once dark brown eyes appear cloudy.... as though whatever caused the heavy scaring around his eyes may have also damaged his eyesight.
As Daryos looks around the room... He believes it to be a standard butcher shop. Other than noticing all the heavy scars covering the half-orc, he also notices that most of the meat doesn't appear to be beef, pork, or even chicken.... but instead he gets the feeling it is instead giant rat, sea gull, and and any other animals he may be able to trap in the quarantine zone...
Nesyax puts her hands inside to be inspected as well. She talks to the man on the other side of the door the whole time. "This seems an unusual way to check for disease. What are you looking for exactly? Is it something you could teach? I'll bet it's really valuable to know how to identify folks." She tries to see if she can get him to share anything about what he's doing. (Persuasion: 22)
Once inside, she takes a look around, keeping an eye out for anything unusual or of interest. (Perception: 21)
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
After her unsure inspection of the meats the previous day, Vesna feels like it would be best for her to wait outside and keep Kitaer's company. She casually looks around while waiting for the rest of the group (perception 9 in game log), a bit distracted by her thoughts about the day ahead.
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
"You must be new here... Strange for new folks not to be sick.... Makes me wonder what yer doin here..." The figure grumbled as he inspected Nesyax's hands from behind the door. "Folks with Weeping pox are burning up with fever... and on top of that they got blisters and lesions all over their skin. If you were infected, yer hands would feel like they were on fire and would either be covered in sores. You'd be yippin like a kicked dog if you were sick and I grabbed yer hand like that." The figure grunts before opening the door
Once inside, Nesyax fails to see any signs of dust or dirt inside the shop. The meat... although not traditional... seems to be perfectly processed and you imagine fine to eat. You can tell that a great deal of skill went into carving the cuts of meat and that this shop has likely been around for many years. Turning to look at the half-orc when he asks what you want, you notice the scars covering his hands and around his eyes. You also notice the damage to his eyes as he looms over the counter, his head swaying from side to side as though he were looking to each of you.
“Not really our job,” Kitaer says offhandedly to Verna after the others have gone inside. “Making the city better. Helping people. All that… But maybe it is?”
Kitaer pauses for a beat but then continues. “Seeing that girl and her dog in the tavern with the disease. Kind of heartbreaking. Not my problem but still… I’d help if I knew how, yeah?” He says, shifting from foot to foot a bit, uncomfortable. “Been thinking… a company needs customers, yeah? Trading partners. Buyers and sellers. So maybe helping however we can is our job?”
Those standing outside notice a few disheveled looking individuals moving through the streets... you recognize some of them as some of the new arrivals from the day before. A couple of people emerge from inside the Wet Weasel a bit down the road... shielding their eyes as they look around and try to decide how they want to spend the rest of their lives...
Across the street, the old man shouts towards Vesna and Kitaer. "Hey! Hey you! Can I interest you all in some carrots? Perhaps some potatoes? or... I even have some berries..." The old man gestures to his meager cart of goods before sitting down in a flimsy wooden chair nearby.
"Well, what kind of meat do you have to offer us?" The young white-haired noble says, moving about slightly, trying to determine if the butcher is indeed blind, or at least have very poor eyesight.
Perception: 16
"And to answer your question, we came here yesterday to hunt monsters. I admit we didn't know about the plague but we will of course do what we can to not contract it." Daryos politely explains, standing to face the butcher now. "I suspect you know more than most about this plague, you have had it yourself but you survived, am I right? We would be very intrerested to hear if you have any theories on why you survived while most others don't. Could it be your orcish heritage perhaps?" He continues in a very polite and sincere tone.
Persuasion: 10
Insight: 16 + Guidance: 2
The half-orc takes a step back, his mouth opening in disbelief revealing a set of small tusks. "Well how in the hells do you end up hunting monsters here... In Liesech, the single most Weeping Pox infested city in all of Etharis... without KNOWING about the Weeping Pox..." He shakes his head in disbelief. "Not only are you in Liesech... You are in the section of Liesech where they ship infected folks from ALL OVER the place. Half of em don't even survive the trip here... the other half wander around for a couple days looking for a comfortable place to die... but some... well some folks like myself are too stubborn to give in to the plague." The butcher grumbles before scratching a particularly large scar running along the side of his neck.
As he is talking to Daryos, the noble notices that he is looking in his direction... but isn't exactly picking up on all of his movements. You are fairly certain that he can at least make out the shapes of you and your companions, but probably cannot see much more than that.
With a large sigh, the grouchy half-orc shakes his head once more., "I was one of the first to catch Weeping Pox... not just in town... but in all of Etharis. Weeping Pox started here in Liesech after all. I've always been pretty hardy... Lots of red meat helps keep a man strong... that an a fine woman. "He pauses for a moment, his eyes moving to the floor." We didn't know how the Weeping Pox worked then... and when I got sick my wife helped to care for me. She kept me bandaged to prevent infection when my skin tore open" He says as he gestures towards the scars across his face and hands. "And cool water to help keep my body from burning up from fever. She didn't know that all the while she was helping me... she was dooming herself... but I don't think she would have done anything differently even if she knew it... She was just as stubborn as I am. I could barely lift my head when I noticed that she had caught the pox... I had to watched her die as I laid in bed helpless to help her." The burly half-orc grumbles before scratching a scar on the top of his hand.
The butcher slaps the counter, and looks away... before wiping his face with his arm. After a few seconds he turns and looks back towards the group. "As for what what kind meat I've got... use yer eyes! I offer the finest meats around... at least on this side of the blockade." He adds with a bit of a frown. "Supply ain't what it used to be. I used to cater meat to royalty! Now I'm stuck catching rats and other critters around here to keep my business going." He balls his large hardened hand into a fist in frustration before taking a few deep breaths. In a few moments he seems to calm down and looks back to the party, when he relaxes his hand, a simple ring made of polished bone catches your eye resting on his finger.
Stasyn is genuinely impressed with the half-orc's gumptions and skill to not only survive but to be able to continue running a business in the quarantined zone. "I would say your stubbornness has served you well as compared to the rest of this place this shop is impressive that you can not only keep it running but do so while staying safe yourself. Since you have been here for so long have you heard of any monsters within the quarantined zone or bizarre happenings?"
From the looks of things, we can indeed shop her for our future meals thought the idea of eating rats is rather distasteful. Oh well at least it is better than starving.
"I presume you are saying that your wife's exposure to you was what doomed her? Or was there something specific she did that she shouldn't have?" Nesyax asks. "And perhaps you recovered because of her efforts?" she tries to clarify. "And do I presume from your concern about those that have the disease that you could potentially catch it again even though you already had it and recovered?"
Rabbit Sebrica, Sorcerer || Skarai, Monk || Lokilia Vaelphin, Druid || Britari / Halila Talgeta / Jesa Gumovi || Neital Rhessil, Wizard || Iromae Quinaea, Cleric
Meira Dheran, Rogue || Qirynna Thadri, Wizard || Crisaryn Melkial, Sorcerer || Bronnryn Hethgar, Cleric
"Yes, she caught the weeping Pox while caring for me." The half-ork replies. "And as Fer catching it sgain... once you survive the pox once, you are immune... but I don't let the infected for a bunch of reasons. Fist reason being that they'll contaminate my goods if they come in here and start getting hands with the merchandise. Second reason is they got nothing to lose... you cannot trust the infected cause if they want something, they are likely to just try to take it." He shakes his head and gestures to the door. "If yer sick, I deal with you through the opening... you don't get to come inside."
"I am so sorry for your loss, truly..." The young white-haired noble says with genuine concern. "...I suppose it is your strong will to survive and keep your business running that brought you through your sickness. If you think of anything that might have helped you survive the plague please tell us though, it would be in all our interests to find a cure. Speaking of which, what can you tell us about these Morbus Doctore? When did they turn up? Quite quickly after the first appearence of the plague?"
Insight: 5 + Guidance: 3
Meanwhile, Vesna looks up at Kitaer, her expression clearly showing her surprise. "You really do think that?" she tries not to sound too sceptical, but truth to be told, she didn't expect the giant intimidating-looking minotaur to be thinking about helping and saving others. Somehow, she had perceived him to be more of the brute-type, but clearly, she shouldn't judge a book by its cover. At the thought, she realises she's being rude and blushes a bit. "I am sorry. I meant to say, my focus to come here was so I could help people. It is what I've done for as long as I can remember. I assumed everybody else had different priorities..." she tries to explain herself nervously as she recalls the previous day's conversation with the Acquisition Inc CEO, and almost jumps up as she hears the old guy calling out to them.
The cleric offers Kitaer an excusing smile, before turning her attention to the old man, approaching his cart a bit unsurely. "Good morning, sir. How's business around here?"
Perception: 20
Aeran Dormaris - L2 Paladin on his way to Phandelver
Vesna March - L1 Cleric in Etharis
DM The Missing Farmer
"Not saying help others at the expense of ourselves, exactly," Kitaer answers with an uneasy shrug. "But when you can do both... Help yourselves and others... How can you not?"
Kitaer's attention is drawn to the old man as well, though his hand reaches out in front of Vesna - Not restraining her but close enough so he maybe could if she decided to head right over to the man and his cart. Caution first... As such, Kitaer eyes the man up from his vantage across the street, doing his best to discern if the man is showing signs of sickness or not. ((Perception: 2-1 for a 1...)) Deciding the many must be healthy enough Kitaer starts slowly walking over towards him.
"A good stew sounds like it could be in the making," Kitaer says with a bit of a hungry grin. "Let's have a look at what you've for sale. You grow this yourself, do you?"
Looking back to Nesyax, The butcher continues. "My survival was largely due to the help from my wife... make no mistake. I've seen folks bigger than me die from it... The Weeping pox is nothing to take lightly." He finishes with a huff. "The best way to survive is to find a powerful cleric. Word is that some of the real powerful spells that only the best clerics know can cure it in an instant. Weaker forms of healing can help.. but are no guarantee." He scratches the back of the neck "Although these days just finding a cleric is almost impossible... and well... a lot of the ones that are still around arn't what they used to be."
"As fer the Morbus Doctore... the're bad news. The Morbus Doctore appeared shortly after the the Weeping Pox showed up. Wearing strange coats and masks meant to protect them from the disease, they wander the city looking for newly infected people. But only a fool would submit to their treatments.... they're known to conduct unbearable experiments on their “patients”. They seem to be convinced that the Weeping Pox actually is a blessing that must be studied, exploited, and controlled to bring humanity forward to a new level of existence. like the Weeping Pox themselves they spread over all of Etharis building bases to help the people for exorbitant prices, as they were the only ones seemingly possessing a cure for the terrible illness." The half-orc rants... leaning heavily on the counter.
Outside, Vesna and Kitaer approach the old man and his vegetable cart. As they get closer, they notice his skin looks much like an old leather glove covered with a thin layer of white hair. "OH Hello! Business is... well Slow. Can I interest you in some of my harvest?" he asks with a mostly toothless grin while leaning forward across his cart. As he looks you up and down, he stands a little straighter... "Strange... you folks don't look sick. What are you all doin here? You two criminals?" He points a boney finger towards vesna and then towards Kitaer. "You're a big fella arn't ya? you ever kill anyone?" He tilts his head and looks up at the minotaur for a few long awkward seconds before turning to look at Vesna. "There are only three types of people stuck here in the quarantine The currently sick.... the was sick... and criminals. It's cheaper to send prisoners here than to care for them in a prison you know." he then lifts his three fingers and counts them before raising a forth finger. "Oh, almost forgot... and the dead. Lot's of them here."