The supply sergeant is looking at Gyselle, out of her uniform apart from the auxiliary corps badge on her arm. "I'm sorry, I've got orders from my captain to hand out rations to the different units as per usual. Not sure if they'd be too happy waiting for you to finish. You can wait here though and tell them yourself, let them decide. As for me, I gotta get the rations ready." With that, the supply sergeant turns around, setting up the units supplies in five stacks, one for each of the units. The amounts of goods on each is pitiable to say the least: 20 pounds of oats, a small crate of carrots, a few turnips, a small sack of potatoes which you estimate around 10 pounds at the most, and about 5 pounds stringy horsemeat, at best suitable for a stew. You see that some of the piles are slightly larger and some slightly smaller, depending on the numbers of the units, you figure. You're somewhat surprised to see no pile for the sick and wounded, or the Marshal.

----------------------------------

Thia, as you get to the Arcanist's tent, Othmar is already there. "Bastard must've acted in haste, most of his things are still here. Didn't even have time to burn his notes properly."  With that, Othmar points out the charred remains of some notes laid onto the big wooden writing table. "It's also coded though." Looking over the rest of the tent, you see that Othmar has already started identifying the different alchemical substances and the various herbs and mushrooms in the vials.

"I know we've not talked much on this, but I've been thinking about a potential cure. As you know, my machine can only delay the inevitable, so we need to find something else. I was thinking we could try a remedy that aims at lowering the fevers, but I'm not sure whether that will work long term, since with a poisoned liver, the body just gets sicker over time. Do you have any ideas what we could try?"

Arc nods, happy to see the Marshal keeping her cool, despite all the obstacles and tribulations being thrown at her. He offered a confident, warm smile at the Marshal before puffing his chest slightly and grinning, "It shall be done, your highness." Feeling a bit good about the fact of being able to work on something familiar after working on the earlier medical device's design, was nice. 

Arc offer a mock bow with an amused look in his eyes, as he raised his head, "Please send the engineers to the gate, I'll set up an example of what needs to be done in the meantime. When I return, I can offer my insights on further logistics, if you'll have me." Eager to leave the tent, Arc doesn't forget his manners, even after dropping his overly formal speech for his more charming and informal actions. However the fact that he was clearly passionate about the current task at hand wasn't something he tried to hide, as he stared intently at the Marshal, waiting for her to dismiss him.

As Arc is heading outside to start setting up a new wagon-prototype, the Marshal looks at Tarian, the last one remaining in the tent. "I thank you. Though reluctant to accept it, you're good at this sort of thing. Perhaps because you're reluctant, who knows. But remember that, these people listen to you not because of your birth or rank, not because you know more then them, or because they owe you allegiance. You lead by your example and your actions. I'd be surprised if you were still running survey missions for the Corphyrean Rail Company in a year. As a leader though, I figure it falls to you now to contact the Council." Her words hang heavily in the air, made more so by the contrast to the sweet words preceding it.

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Thia, as you're looking through Hadrari's things, you suddenly feel something pull on your sleeve. As you turn around, Njalgas is standing before you: "I'm sorry for the interruption, but if we are encouraged to talk to the council, do you want me to set up a connection with Corsyr as well? I know you care deeply about the sick, both here and in Duskrock. Maybe the Magistrate can already start to track down the source of the poison in the city, based on what you found in the letters."

Tarian’s expression soured as she stared at the closed tent flaps. “I’d be surprised if I was doing surveys in a year, too, but maybe for different reasons.” She waved off the thought. “Let’s just say that if they did listen to me then none of us would know Hadrari was still secretly poisoning your men.” Tarian shook her head and sighed, then grumbled an echo of something she said in Duskrock, “And it’s not self-doubt, it’s an assessment.”

With resignation Tarian turned to the Arceneaux. “Nevertheless, Marshal, it doesn’t change the fact that I have a job to do. Not just the survey job. You held my crew hostage, so I think it’s fair if we hold yehrs hostage by denehying any fehrther—” Tarian glanced back at the tent flaps again. “Who am I kidding? I won’t be permitted to just deny assistance like that. But, look, I can ask, but the council is debating a major project involving Corphyrean Rail right now. A lot of funds and workers would be assigned to it. So asking me to divert anything away from the project would be asking me to work against my employer. I’m not so good a person as that.”

Tarian swept a hand toward the tent’s entrance. “Corti, Miss Thia, your Leech and Miss Gyselle—those are good people. I don’t think helping you is in my best interest or those I work for. But… well, if you were willing to be part of the rail project—you have the engineers and strong hands here, as I’m well aware—” she tapped the bandage holding the poultice in place, “as part of the project they would need to send you resources. You would benefit, I wouldn’t feel conflicted: a win for both of us.”

She shrugged. “Just a thought. In either case, I can at least ask.”

Arc arrives at the wagons, and gets to work drawing up the blueprints for what he has in his head, so that when the other engineers got there, they had something to work with.

Investigation: 27

Once that's done, and the engineers arrive, Arcius will look up and begin directing them with the blueprint, on what needs to be done. Having them watch him as he demonstrates. He spends a few hours, whilst explaining what needs to be done and why, to apply the enhancements and enchantments.

Tinker's Tools: 27
Arcana: 19

Once he's done with his model, he'll get to ordering the engineers to repeat the process on the remaining carts, spending the remaining of his time, supervising and managing their progress. For those that peered over at the young man during this time, he had no smile, but the energy around him seemed to come alive. Where for the past few days he had been in a form of slump, or brood, this kind of work seemed to invigorate him again.

Gyselle makes her way over to the piles of supplies. “I can help you bring them to where they need to go. Or do it for you to give you a break.” She proffers hoping to have some time with the supplies without being observed by the supply sergeant. 

Tarian, after your counterproposal, you see the Marshal look at you with a hint of displeasure, while already processing the new information. After a short moment, she says: "Alright, bring your telelith here, I'll be able to remove that listening device, so you can communicate with the Council. I'm not happy about this, but if it gives my troops and I an out of this whole situation, I'll take it."

Assuming you go and get the telelith, she quickly disables the listening device, making it abundantly clear that she was likely behind planting it in the first place. "Please, go ahead."

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Arc, having already mulled over this design and given the experiences you made with your own prototype, you quickly develop a way to turn planks from empty crates into makeshift treads. You do so with simple tools, easy enough for the engineers from the support batallion to pick up and follow. As a last thing, you design a glyph pattern to increase the speed of the vehicle, which you then trace out onto some parchment, before going on to etch it into all the planks. Thanks to your diagrams and template, the other engineers follow suit and within a few hours, you have successfully turned all the provided waggons into treaded vehicles that should in theory be able to more easily deal with the muddy terrain.

--------------------------------------------

Gyselle, the supply sergeant just gives you a smile: "No need to bring them to anyone, they usually send people to pick these up right here, but I wouldn't mind a quick latrine break. Just make sure to have them sign the reception form here, when they get their things." With that, the supply sergeant turns and heads off in the direction of the main gates to head to the latrines outside of the camp, leaving you alone with the supplies.

Gyselle begins the process of purify food and drink starting with the largest of the piles and moving towards the smallest. Hoping there’s enough time to get all of them before the supplies get picked up. 

Arc, his work done, returns to the Marshal to report the completion of the wagons. "With this, we should make good time and have a large turn out, provided the villagers are kind enough and we have enough to exchange. Thankfully, my party and I know the village and windmill in question, so getting permission and trade shouldn't be an issue. With your leave, I'll take the engineers and some goods to get the windmill's repair underway, and trade for some clean food."

If the Marshall actually wanted an honest opinion from Thia, she could come speak to her one on one. But Thia was done with being a puppet in her show. It was exhausting. One thing the artificer did agree with though, was the capture or death of the poisoner. She believed if he wasn’t stopped, their work to try to reverse the poison would be a never ending chase. He was working to perfect it. If the strain changes, so could their chance of curing it. Would things have been different if I just spoke up the moment Ishmael released me from his hold? It truly didn’t matter though. What’s done is done.

Thia had a sense of autonomy about her, moving through the motions as she headed towards the Arcanist’s tent. But as she caught sight of it on the approach, she’d pause, remembering Corti had followed directly behind her, just like times before. The medic would blink. She’d turn to face Corti and her face would finally soften. Thia would let out a soft exhale, feeling a bit ashamed for some of her behaviour, again. She’d reach for Corti’s hands. “Thank you...” She’d give them a soft squeeze. Corti didn’t have to follow Thia or support her through some of her impulses, but she did. Her presence was always appreciated and her actions even more so. Thia would take a deep breath, squeezing Corti’s hands once again, giving herself the push to get back to work. The artificer would turn back to face the tent, lift her chin a little bit as she’d correct her face and enter.

Seeing Othmar there brought its own wave of relief. He had already been hard at work, wasting no time. When he’d point out the charred remains of the notes, Thia would look to Corti. “Do you think you could decipher what remains of them?”

And the dwarf wouldn’t skip a beat. He’d continue on directly to the point. The potential cure. Thia would look to Othmar, she was almost lost for thought, let alone words. He was right, they did need to find something more permanent. She’d open and close her mouth a couple times trying to formulate some thoughts, hoping to find a way to get herself back on track. But then she’d stop and take a moment to rub her forehead. KISS Thia... Keep It Simple Stupid... Then she’d remember something, jogging a thought process.

Thia would pull Stewart from her pocket and place him on the table. An antitoxin could be made within an organism in response to toxin exposure... It could be a risky and arduous process... but effective long term. And Thia knew what it meant if they wanted to avoid serum sickness. “Introduce a passive immunity.” She’d mutter. Her eyes would meet Othmar’s letting those words settle. “Develop an antitoxin.”

She’d feel a tug on her sleeve. She’d turn a bit abruptly in surprise, not expecting someone. Her eyes would fall over Njalgas and she’d relax a little seeing that it was him. “I- uh- um.” Thia would start to stammer before stopping herself. Yes she cared... But was she really the best person to present this information? They could trust the Corsyr with this information for the better? The medic would shift uncomfortably. Corti and Tarian had deciphered the letters. They knew the information best. And perhaps there was new information on the charred notes... She’d look to Corti. “Should we present your findings?”

Arcenaux is happy about the quick progress on the waggons. "Alright, the lancers should be ready to accompany you, the engineers, and any further people willing to come along with you. I've instructed my troops to listen to your advice on engineering matters, and follow your lead on the negotiations with the locals. Should something go awry though, promise me to stick to the carts and let the troops handle things. I can't afford to be blamed for the death of a Cannith, while negotiating with the Corphyrean Council."

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Gyselle, you manage to purify 2 stacks before the first group of soldiers from Legio IX Ferro Armatus with their steely grey shoulder patches arrive to grab their pile. You haven't gotten to their pile yet, but might be able to give them another, and claim you didn't know any better when the supply sergeant gets back.

Arc gives a small smirk, "Careful Marshal, you almost sounded like you were worried for me~" With that small quip, Arc chuckles and gives a slight bow, before heading out of the tent, gathering up the people and resources they'd need to head out. Once he has handed out orders to get things packed, Arc will spend a few moments to go back through the camp and look for the rest of the party, letting them know that he will be heading to the windmill/village to enact his earlier plan. While passing this information along to them, he would ask if anyone of them had request of him for when he returned, or as he passed by the village.

Tarian frowned. “I’ve never been shown how to use the telelith. Give me a moment to pen a report, and then I’ll fetch Mister Njalgas.”

Her note complete, Tarian fanned the ink dry, scooped up the now-bugless telelith, and set out to find Njalgas.

When she at last arrived at Hadrari’s tent, she pulled the tent flap back a bit and saw Njalgas beside Thia and Corti. Tarian took a short moment for a calm breath before she marched toward the gnome and proffered the telelith and her note. “The Marshal removed her listening device, and I have a message for the Magistrate, if you please, Mister Njalgas.”

As Njalgas gingerly took the telelith with a slightly confused look on his face, Tarian added, “I… don’t know how to use this thing. I’d probably break it if I tried.”

Gyselle studies the form the units are to sign and the piles. Trying to make sense of which pile is for the unit that just showed up. ‘Hopefully it’s one of the ones I’ve already finished’ she thinks to herself while smiling at the arrivals. 

2

On the walk to the tent Corti stops short when Thia turns to her. She smiles as the artificer takes her hands, "Always." She walks with Thia into the tent and nods in greeting to Othmar.

She frowns at the notes, "I... can try," She walks over to the charred pile and gets out a piece of parchment to begin decoding as much as she can. (ooc: nemo do you want a roll for this?) As she works she listens to Thia discuss, happy to hear her getting down to business. As Njalgas speaks up Corti jumps, she hadn't heard him come in either. She watches Thia stammer and rises from where she had sat to decipher the notes. "Sure, Njalgas is right," She nods to the shorter man, "The Magistrate will have more resources than us, and maybe he could get some people to help you with the cure." Corti looks back to Thia then, smiling. 

Brandt had smiled when Thia told him that she wanted to come with, if he headed out to hunt down the Arcanist: "Thanks kid, but I got nothing I can help you all with here, out there I got something I'm good at. You on the other hand- they'd still get sick if it weren't for you and Corti. I'll make sure to make him talk though, if we find him."

Arc quickly briefs Tarian, still discussing matters with the Marshal, before heading towards the arcanist's tent to say goodbye before he'd be heading off to the village.

Arcenaux didn't look happy at Tarian's note, but she didn't say anything- perhaps the first sign of a gradual capitulation towards the situation, perhaps because she had other more important worries. As you go looking for Njalas, you find him with Corti and Thia, discussing whether you should let the Magistrate know what you found out. Seeing your note, Njalgas nods and takes the telelith, setting it up in the previous private quarters of the tent, and beginning the transmission.

Corti, please give me an investigation check at disadvantage.

Gyselle does her best to direct them to the correct pile of supplies and has them sign the document indicating they picked up their rations. (Would her knowledge of the rest of the units in camp be able to help give them an appropriately sized pile? Ideally one of the two that are done. 🤞🏻)

Corti, many of the burnt pages are covered in alchemical symbols, but the fragments are too small to decipher anything properly. You find a page towards the end of the stack though that had only laid at the edge of the brazier and has been less burnt than the rest. You quickly determine that the text is encoded with the same cypher, and that this was likely a draft for a further letter. WIth your mechanically assisted mind and your human-like creativity, you quickly cycle through the permutations to translate the visible letters on the page:

...oll root makes the poison less potent, but touch
… …fices for effects to …ke root. Be careful not to get
 … … …ny open wound... … …ne of your own gets sick,
… …em with a tonic … … …ilverbark.

… the pulp, before filter… … s the substance can
 …wise act as a potent poison on its own.

Corti glances down at the paper in her hands with the translated half-message. "Speaking of the cure," she hands the paper to Thia, "This is what the burned papers said. Some kind of root could help? And there's something about, ehm, -ilverbark." She looks back at the paper in Thia's hands to confirm. "Silverbark maybe?" She finishes with a shrug as Njalgas goes to set up the telelith.