Union! Game Thread

Thia would nod to Wilfred, relieved he was taking over. She would exhale deeply, wiping sweat away from her forehead with the back of her wrist and look back to her hands, realizing she probably just smeared stuff on her face.

Thia did feel a bit deflated from her performance, but it quickly faded away when she'd look up to spot that it was Tarian in the room with them. She'd kind of hop in delight and would go to head towards them, but then stop in her tracks, remembering she should probably clean up. Thia would go to the washing station to clean up thoroughly before approaching Tarian while drying off her hands. "A delivery? Now's fine as any." She'd stand to the side of Tarian so she could still observe Wilfred from where they are. Seeing Tarian pull out the silver thread, Thia would gasp in pleasant surprise, "I wanted to hug you when you came in, but now I could kiss you... This is amazing! I'm happy to pay for your trouble."

Tarian rarely saw a client react so positively to a job well done. Due to the nature of most of her work and clientele, the most common reactions to her reports of completion were anger, sadness, self-satisfaction, and indifference. The most positive reactions typically came with the lowest pay: the scarred man from the Veiled Valour—likely the same who was now conducting the autopsy, if memory matched the man she saw—gave Tarian a similar reaction when she delivered nearly two stones’ worth of sundry natural reagents for poultices, salves, and potions. The same look of joy glittered on his face when he saw plants properly harvested and preserved for the greatest medical efficacy, rather than roughly pulled from the ground or yanked from a branch and thrown into a basket.

The job took five days and paid three gold. Charity cases were rewarding, but not in a way that would pay the rent or fill the belly. With her rapidly dwindling funds, they weren’t anything Tarian could afford to do often.

Still, they were rewarding in a way. “Five yards. That’ll be fair market value plus four silver for time and expenses direcly related to procurement and delivery.” Tarian pressed the skein into Thia’s palm. “Though, truth be told, my source charged me for the thread together with information on a separate case, so I’m not sure what you’d normally pay for this much thread.” Tarian rubbed the back of her head. “So… four silver plus whatever that would be.”

Tarian assessed Thia’s current physical state and figured they were both probably feeling about the same. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m in need of a good night’s sleep. And you seem to have your work cut out for you here. You sure you’ll be ready for a mission out of town? Should I still expect to see you at the Golden Gear tomorrow?”

Arc pours over his prototype, and all of a sudden, the realisation smacks him in the face: Of course! He had not figured that the muzzle of the flamethrower would heat up to the point that the metal would be red-hot. As such, it could easily circumvent the insulation he had put in place, and started to heat the fuel in the small tube leading to the nozzle at the front. The fuel itself could be heated, that wasn't the issue, but due to the heat of the tube, the liquid fuel likely expanded and some of it tried to evaporate, building up the pressure in the tube even more. The evaporated gases then caught fire far quicker than the fuel itself would have, and as a result the entire tube and fuel cannister ignited, causing the fuel to burn off rapidly, causing the lift-off of the prototype, and then ignting the built-up gases, causing the explosion...

Well, he had already decided to try and build a new prototype out of lighter materials, but he would also have to think about a way of keeping the muzzle and fuel tubes cooled during the firing of the turret, as otherwise he would likely again end up with an unplanned fireball. Or maybe he'd have to redisign the feeding mechanism for the fuel, to avoid autoignition.... He had a couple of ideas for the next prototypes, and if anything, he was going to test that one further away, to avoid any damage to the building.

Thia's eyes would widen in excitement looking at the thread in her palm, "I can't wait 'til I can tinker with this..." and she'd tuck it away safely in an inside pocket of her jacket. "Hmm..." She'd reach into a pouch on her hip, feeling around to pull out a handful of coin and drop it into Tarian's hand. "That should hopefully cover it." Thia would smile. Tarian will find an assortment of coin that would add up to 6 gold.

"Well." Thia would look around, her bubbliness fading again to refocus on her task at hand "This is part of the commitment I mentioned earlier today. Turns out things took a turn for the worse while I was away. I intend to assist here as long as I'm needed." She'd look to her pile of books. "I'll have a lot of studying to do tonight if I hope to have a chance to make it tomorrow." She'd look to Corti next, "I encourage you to still go to the Golden Gear tomorrow."

Tarian’s eyes widened a moment when Thia dumped the pile of coins into her palm. She quickly assessed the coins’ worth. Six denars.

“I can’t accept this.” Tarian fished out the two golden coins and enough of the rest to add to a third. Now, with three denars’ worth of coin in one hand, she thrust the other half back at Thia. “If word gets out that I accepted six denars for one night’s work getting some thread for a student and charity volunteer, either I’ll be seen as dishonest or you’ll be made for an easy mark. Maybe both. At least with three we can say part was for tonight and part was to finish paying for a job I took for the Veiled Valour a while ago.”

Tarian peered out across the chapel, saw the dead and the dying side by side, some already covered in sheets and moved to the floor, some quietly groaning in the pews. She turned back to Thia. “Whatever these folks have, studying all night won’t help them. Rest. If what they have is catching, you’ll catch it if you’re weak from lack of sleep. And a sleep-addled mind is no welcome home for new knowledge, anyway. Know your limits. I know mine, and that’s why I’m headed to bed.” Tarian put her payment in her coin pouch. “Corti. Thia.” She nodded farewells to each in turn.

Tarian carefully chose her path to the door, taking the shortest path that was the furthest from any of the patients.

The cab home was blissfully quick. When she trudged into her room at last, Tarian unbelted her sword and laid it on the floor next to the bed, then struggled out of her chainmail and laid it over the back of her chair instead of properly arranging it on the stand. That done, Tarian opened the window and finally crawled into her bed.

Marius Villamov, is it? I think he’ll be my first stop in the morning. I have other things to get in the Souk, anyway. It’ll be nice to finally have a lead on that locket. Maybe it’ll give me better questions to ask Davin Pendrell, should I get the chance.

Corti says goodbye to Tarian and waits for her to leave before responding to Thia's mention of the Golden Gear. "And I do intend to! I agree with what Tarian said about your health, but right now I'm here to help you with whatever I can."

Thia frowned when Tarian would hand back the pieces. “You worry too much. It was a gesture of thanks. I know you’re working towards a crossbow replacement and I would rather have you with one sooner than later.” She’d shrug and place the 3 donair on a table for Wilfred and Alexis to take for supplies.

”Perhaps that’s what you believe and I will respect that.” It would feel like Tarian just slapped her in the face. It may not be intentional, but Thia respectfully disagrees with her statements. Each point Tarian made, where things Thia already considered. She had rested earlier that day and is in better shape than the others. If it was infectious, she’d have it already from the first treatment, same with wilfred and Alexis, they’d have it by now. Most importantly Alexis tracked Thia down for her studying, and it’s the only thing Thia felt valuable for. Her face would harden, feeling anger bubble up a little from Tarian’s blatant disregard for these sufferers “I know my limits and now’s not the time to abandon these people.” Thia would shake her head, as if trying to shake her negative thoughts out of her head. Let’s hope none of us ever ends up in their predicament and left for dead. Tarian may have some medical skills, but clearly for her own gain rather than compassion. She’d go to her books, sort them and open up the book Alexis requested to begin studying. Without taking her eyes off her pages, “You made my choice easier. Go without me.” And she’d fall silent, focusing on her texts, more determined to solve this riddle. She won’t look up or say anything else.

After Tarian leaves and Corti pipes up, Thia takes a deep breath and looks up from her page, "I apologize Corti, I suppose I let myself get a little upset. And I'm starting to sound like a broken record. I do really appreciate your help." She'd pat another book on the table. "We're looking for diseases with the following symptoms: fever, sweating, cramps and fatigue. Possibly bleeding sores, but that could be bed sores. We originally considered and treated the first patient for the Sewer Plague. We ruled out poison originally due to lack of motive for ill intent. Has that changed?" She thought back to the list of poisons she had from the original inspection.

Thia would look over her shoulder to Wilfred, "Anything new to report from the autopsy?"

Corti stands perfectly still during Thia's outburst, confused at the sudden change in mood, What just happened? Was that protectiveness? Pride? Dang it all, three years and I'm still slow to this. She relaxes a little when Thia starts to talk again, and places a hand on her arm, "That's all right, Thia, you're entitled to get upset." Corti places herself across the table from Thia and picks up a book, opening it to the first page. "Fever, sweating, cramps, and fatigue. Maybe sores. Got it." She flashes her grin and then starts scanning through the book.

Thia nad Corti spend most of the evening studying, and comparing the symptoms with their notes. But after five hours, they had gotten about as far as they were when they started. The sewer plague was a fit for the cramps and fatigue, but it didn't explain the severity of the disease, or the fever. Plus, they had checked several of the patients, and none of them had exhibited any bite marks that would have been necessary for an initial infection. Cackle fever didn't make sense with the cramps, and the patients weren't laughing or shrieking. Sight rot wasn't likely either, since the eyes of patients were fine. Towards the end however, Corti did find something that made her curious- the Shivering Disease.

She had heard it mentioned once or twice during her studies, and after reading a bit further on the topic, she remembered some pretty nasty cases of soldiers returning with the disease from the Cyrean jungles and marshes, still occasionally falling into shivering fits and fevers. Could the solution really be so simple? The affected people were practically all from Cyre, and an insect bite might be too small or long gone to notice when examining the patients...

Thia still couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. She took a look at some known poisons and poisonous substances, to read up on their effects. It was true, they were no closer to any motive, but perhaps it wasn't a poison adminstered on purpose. She had seen the conditions of some of the camps...

She returned to Wilfred, who has by now finished with the autopsy, and, exhaustedly, is washing his hands. "And, did you and Corti find anything? All I know is that there are no injuries on this man, and his last meal was a mixture of goat milk, bread, and some kind of stew. Nothing unusual there. His teeth were pretty rotten, and some of his joints were swollen, but its hard to know whether that's the result of him being close to fifty... We might have to do another one, to see whether we can find some more information. Or we might need to head back to the camp were we first treated that boy, and see whether we find a clue as to the start of this disease there..."

Corti edges up behind Thia clutching the notes she took in one hand, "Wilfred? I don't suppose his," she pauses, triple-checking her notes, "liver looked strange? Covered in white spots? I found something called the Shivering Sickness. I'm not sure that all the symptoms match up, but the location it originates in does. The Cyrean jungles. I think I've seen cases of it."

"Are there any other commonalities between them besides being Cyrean? The same water source? The same meal source?" She'd ponder aloud.

Thia would smile encouragingly at Corti. She too wanted to know about the liver. "I think Corti is on to something. Anything worth noting on the liver?"

Wilfred raised his eyebrows: “ Yeah, as a matter of fact, the liver was tainted. There were white streaks in it. It could fit, but it’s probably best if you had a look at it yourself...”

What's going on with Brandt?

OOC: I wanted to get the autopsy bit first, but it took longer than expected, sorry.

Brandt headed back to Medraxes, his head icy calm. He had been momentarily surprised by the fact that the kobold had attempted to threaten him, but it was clear by the two bumbling idiots he sent, that he was at best an amateur at this. Brandt had remembered the rough layout of Mendraxes' store, and started to plan on the different eventualities, if the mandrake should attempt more underhanded business after he was there. If he entered from the street side and kept to the right of the room, he should be able to keep the street and the back room in his eyes, and at any rate, he'd have his gun and blade at the ready.

As he arrives at the small shop in Uptown, Brandt has restrain himself from kicking open the door. He enters bruskly, and with a booming voice demands: "Mendraxes! I'm here to see you!" 

The kobold behind the counter, with his foppish cap and the overly wide sleeves jerks with surprise, and he drops the firearm he had been tinkering with with a loud clatter. "Wha-what are you doing here?! I thought I had been clear on my demands! Take out that filthy mongrel, and we're in business!" The kobold's voice was shrill, laced with panic. Brandt knew immediately that the kobold in front of him was used to bullying others into doing what he wanted them to, and he was now completely out of his depth.

Thia, you look at the slices of the liver that Wilfred had prepared. There was no doubt about it, the liver was marmored by white streaks. These refugees weren't ill, they were posioned. She still didn't have a good explanation as per motive, but the fact that a poison was chosen that would give very similar effects and symptoms to the Shivering Sickness seems far too coincidental to not have been planned.

"What am I doing here? Well, let's see. You hire a pair of cutthroats to come threaten me and my friend and if I might add, they were incompetent cutthroats who not only got themselves shitfaced before noon, they told me who hired them without me even having to do anything to obtain it. I imagine that I'm not the first person you've tried to intimidate, Mendraxes, but judging from your reaction, it looks like I'm the first person that hasn't soiled themselves when you've done so. So let's make two things very clear right now. One: I did not make any commitment to doing your job for you. I didn't sign a contract or make any other commitment saying that I'd do it for you, so don't pretend that I made some big breach of trust. Two: I don't appreciate threats towards me or the people I choose to affiliate myself with. At all. Now you're going to call those drunken dumbasses back, as well as any other drunken dumbasses you've hired and you're going to tell them that they're going to stay away from me. You're going to tell them that they're going to stay away from my associate. Hell, you're going to tell them to stay away from the Velvet Glove." Brandt remains incredibly cool during this, but he slowly pulls out his rifle. "Because if my friend has so much as a hair out of place, "the mongrel" is going to have one fewer competitor. Do we understand each other?"

Thia's face would harden with the confirmation of her suspicions. Her eyes would begin to dart side to side as she'd begin compiling her thought process, but then just turns around to their make shift study stable. She'd begin pulling books, her notes, Corti's notes and a fresh piece of parchment to begin jotting things down as fast as she could before she would lose her train of thoughts. She'd compare notes of Shivering Sickness symptoms with those of the Pale Tincture poison side by side, then branch off additional thoughts as she went along. "I wanted Corti to be right..." Thia would mutter as she circled some key words before finally looking up to Wilfred and Corti, "It's poison... a strong one. And it's no fluke." She'd sigh, "I believe this is a thoroughly thought out and targeted attack against these people." In fact, from a poisoner's perspective, it was brilliant. From a medical standpoint though... a literal nightmare. After a breath Thia would continue with what she did know, "When you compare the symptoms of the Shivering Sickness beside those who suffer from ingesting Pale Tincture, they are almost one in the same." She'd point to her circled notes, "There are two defining factors in their differences that confirms this conclusion. They both affect the liver, but present differently." She'd gesture to the liver, "Shivering Sickness results in a white spotty appearance. Our patients liver, is marmored, which is the result of Pale Tincture poison."

Thia would fall silent again for a moment, biting her lip a little. "The second factor is that we have the ability to heal Shivering Sickness. The salves... the tea... the care provided to our first patient..." She'd gesture to all the others, "All of these patients... would have been and would be enough. Our medicine, would work..." Going back to her notes, she'd tap her quill a couple times on the page, "It didn't work because the damage caused by the poison ravaging through their body cannot be healed. It's Pale Tincture's signature." She'd sigh. "The poison itself would need to be cured, not healed."

Thia would then draw two lines branching off from her Pale Tincture notes, "Naturally, I have two schools of thought from the knowledge I do have." As an alchemist she's studied poisons, even for her own use... It's important for any alchemist, and medical professional to know how poisons could be neutralized. Thia would hesitate a moment before putting up a finger and continuing out loud "Magic. We know that the days of Paladins and Clerics are but a distant memory and their magics are much harder to come by... but there have been cases of Artificers being able to replicate Lesser Restoration. But they are documented to not have as much success at mastering it..." She'd look to Corti, "When compared to talented and unique bards."

"Though, at this scale..." They would need more than a couple people, let alone one gifted individual. Thia would jot down Lesser Restoration under the one line and then write Antitoxin under the other, "An Antitoxin may be our best approach." She'd nibble her lip a little harder. She was a little nervous knowing she's yet to be proficient with her herbalism kit... this came with her mastery of Alchemy. Normally this proficiency is required in order to create an Antitoxin. I'm so close though... Maybe I can try anyway... She'd look over all of her equipment. "We'd need the herbs..."

One of the nearby orderlies approaches Thia: « I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve heard some of the patients talk about a cleric who’s been taking care of some of the sick, with some measure of success. They call him Brother Kobe, and he sounds like a community leader. I... I thought it might be helpful... » she trails off, looking at the floor. Before deciding to head off, she lifts her head: « or...or I could help find those herbs, but I’d need to know which ones... »

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As Brandt levels his gun at Mendraxes, he swears he can see the kobold tremble : « Y-you won’t get away with this! I am an upstanding businessman, a-and I won’t be threatened by the likes of you. These accusations are ludicrous. Now leave, before I-I need to make use of m-my own merchandise ! » Brandt does notice the Kobold’s hands reaching for something behind or underneath the counter.