A woman's scream pierces the din at the western sabban gate. A small cohort of guards struggle to quickly prepare their crossbows and aiming through the gate and down the street, waiting. There's the clapping of shoes against stone and in the distance a woman appears. She's running towards the gate, wearing a look of terror and clutching a baby in a blue silk wrap tightly against her chest. A captain of the guard takes a step forward and with a hand on the hilt of her blade calls out, "There is no one allowed in, or out!" But the woman doesn't hear her and continues to barrel on towards the gate. There's a bang as the doors of storefronts and homes burst open as horrendous figures throw themselves into the street and begin to chase after the woman. Their hideous visages covered with lesions and boils aren't nearly as unsettling as the gurgling screams they release as they lurch in pursuit of the woman. Several of the guards jump at the sound and loose their bolts into the sides of buildings. They rush to reload their crossbows as their captain draws her sword and repeats her warning, "No one is allowed in, or out! Stop where you are!" But the woman again does not stop. She's aware of the horrors that pursue her and she reaches out towards the gate and pleads, "Please help me! Please help my baby!" She's close enough now that the baby's cries are audible. More of the twisted figures join the chase, dashing out from alleyways. The captain stares through the woman and repeats herself a third time, "No one is allowed in, or–" There's a twang. And then another. The entirety of the cohort looses their bolts. The woman crumples onto the ground and then there is silence. The captain's mouth is left agape. Several of the guard wipe their eyes or fall to their knees. The terrible figures stand and just stare at the gate, bile and blood leaking from their mouths. As the wind blows sand around the woman's corpse, they slowly empty from the street, returning to the doorways and alleys. This is Keltar now.
Inside one of the numbers medical tents that pepper the temporary camps outside the west sabban, a young half-elf named Namuk yn Annas el Ilmater is hurriedly making his way around. With him is a loxodon, Akela.
"Well, I just don't know what is to be done. There are broken bones, coughs and corpses," he explains, tightening the bandages around a young boy's leg. "Maybe their cough is really just a cough or maybe they'll turn around, feral, and smash your face in." An older man across the tent cries out in pain and Namuk turns to him. He grips the red thread bindings on his right wrist and utters a word in the local tongue. Almost immediately, the older man is quieted and seems to feel a bit better. Namuk lets out a sharp breath and turns to face Akela.
"Truthfully, we need the help. Without access to the temple, we're struggling. Can you go and see if you can tend to any of the city guard who were injured? We have our hands full here."
The sun shines down brightly on the guardsmen. The area is fenced off and several of the guard are sitting or practicing their swordplay.
"This is surely the end of times. Times are ending surely–"
"Oh shut up, Iman," says a half-orc guard. The man who he said it to flinches and looks down at his feet, whispering, "...You should be afraid too, Durug..." Durug goes back to wiping his blade clean of blood and dust, and calls out, "Vimak! Hey! This is brutal isn't it?" He's referring to the quarantine in the city. Several days ago, the order went around to each sabban that people that were healthy were to be evacuated and the city to be closed off. Simple tasks which became complicated with the added layer of fear and the ferociousness of the ill. Thousands of people made it out of the west sabban gate, thousands more were cut down by frightened guards or simply trapped in the various other sabbans. Durug holds his sword up to better catch the sunlight and blows along the blade, before continuing. "Some of the guard are saying that the call to evacuate wasn't sanctioned. Crazy idea is what I told them, before I clocked them." He lets out a chuckle. "Anyways, you holding it together? We have to go check in on the Guild Arcane members before sundown and I don't want you pissing yourself on the way."
"Oh no, what is this–please move!" The man driving the carriage forward has come to a halt and waves his hands frantically at several cows that stand in the road. "Beasts, devils, move!"
In the back of the carriage, underneath the wonderfully ornate paper roof that blocked only the harshest of the desert sun's rays, sits Niyin and a human man of Tashlutan descent. Despite having been traveling together for quite some time, the man hadn't said even one word. He just stared out into the sandy flats and patted beads of sweat from his forehead. This news of stopping, however, stirred something in him.
"Ne, why are we not moving any longer?" he demands from the driver.
"Cursed cows is why!"
"No, I will have none of this, driver." He mutters something, beats his chest lightly twice, and all of the cows in the road immediately dart into the wastes. "There, now we can continue our journey on." The driver seems confused and maybe a little bit concerned, but he shakes it off and continues on to Keltar.
The carriage arrives soon after to a scene of chaos. Thousands of people are milling around. Some set up tents, others are running around, while others just simply lay on the ground. As the carriage moves closer towards the center of the camp, the overwhelming smell of sweat, sick, and bovine feces fills the air–a far cry from the modest mercantile luxury that Keltar has usually been associated with. The strange man jumps off of the carriage and breathes deeply, before spitting onto the ground and walking off.
"Something's wrong here. I brought you, so get off so I can leave," the driver shouts back at Niyin. And she does indeed hop off of the carriage and is immediately approached by a young girl in a rough-spun dress.
“The heat is what’s brutal, Durug,” Vimak says. Vimak wears a poorly tied turban on his bald head. Stripes of bright red sunburn cover his arms and chest, though he is learning to wear the long cloth clothing common here. “What do you mean the call to evacuate wasn’t sanctioned? Who said that?”
Vimak stands, slinging his shield onto his back while watching the other guards drill. Their footwork is sloppy enough to raise clouds of orange dust. Knowing how they fight, who twitches how before they swing, for example, is valuable. It never hurts to watch and learn, pick up strategies and moves. If the guard’s orders are based on rumor, the government is as sick as the people here. If the government is sick then the guard’s pay may be rumor soon too. The guard’s loyalty, even to each other, may not last if they aren’t being paid.
Iman stands as well, and then, grunting, Durug climbs to his feet. “You told the sergeant we were going to the Guild Arcane, right Iman?” Vimak says. “Durug? You were saying?”
They step out from under the canopy and the mild shade it provided into the flaming sunlight.
Niyin had a brief moment to take in the scene around her, to feel the aura of disease and death moving in to choke her, when a small voice stole her attention. She looked down at the girl, studying her: her eyes and how they shone, her hair and how it moved in the breeze, the texture of her flesh and the color it absorbed from the sun. The changling committed chosen details to memory as she looked down at the child... and smiled.
"She's going to die." The smile faltered as the scratchy, sandpaper-like voice whispered in her ear, the imp's hot breath an uncomfortable temperature in the desert sun. "They'll all die."
"Not if I can help," she snapped at her own shoulder. To any other, she was talking to air and the glowing flints of the imp's eyes moved with laughter. Niyin looked quickly to the girl and sighed with a new smile. "Sorry dear, the long journey has given me a bit of a headache and my words got confused. I'm here to help, if I can. What does your Babaye look like?"
Akela's large ears flapped slowly, acting as fans to help keep herself cool in the Keltarian heat. It seemed hotter inside the tents than outside if that was at all possible. What she wouldn't give for a nice cooling mud mask right about now. But there were more important matters that needed her attention at the moment. Akela looked around at the full cots around her as she followed the half-elf Namuk, watching as he tended to the people.
"Just a cough," Akela muttered almost as if talking to herself. She gave a heavy sigh. There were so many sick and just as many, if not more, that were dying. When Akela first arrived she assumed that it was some random illness that was spreading through the city, that would come and go much like a flu or a cold. Something that consisted of a cough the reports said. But this was far more than just a simple cough. There was something more serious going on here. Akela turned to Namuk.
"Of course," she said with a slight bow of her head. "I am more than happy to help however I can." She turned to start gathering what supplies she might need to take with her, but hesitated and turned back to Namuk. "What is being done as far as treatment? Is anything working even a little bit?"
"A few of those cowards. Claimed there wasn't any order with the Sultan's seal–the disrespect for command!" Durug wrinkles his face and spits on the ground. He throws a fist into his palm and adds, "Hiding out with the injured now that they've got a few more bruises."
As Vimak and Durug make their way out of the impromptu guard post, a trainee jumps to his feet to feign vigilance. Durug grunts and answers Vimak's question. "Indeed. Order to check in came from the sergeant along with where to head. Those wizards are holed up in the watchtower–the old one outside the gates." He points out over several tents to a old sandstone tower. What was a wooden roof back in the early days of its construction is merely four sun-bleached wooden supports at each corner and a bluish smoke rises up between them.
"Damn it all!" A dwarf runs out of a nearby tent marked with both the emblem of the Keltari guard and of Ilmater. You can tell that she's dressed in the simple robes of a priest of Ilmater, despite the front of her garb being covered in vomit that surely is not her own. She begins to move her fingers and mutter something and the wet spots begin to disappear. Durug lets out a chuckle and asks, "Shall we move on?"
The girl's lip quivers as she looks up at Niyin's smiling face. She starts to try and say something, but chokes it back several times, before being able to say, "He's really old. Papa says he came out before we did, but I can't find him." She wipes her face with her sleeve, the tears leaving streaks in the dirt on her face. "He lets me feed his cows and give them water. He has a pretty blue ring that makes water appear for them."
There's a whistle from nearby and a man stands up from a carpet laid outside one of the various tents. "Zhida, leave that woman alone. Come here." He motions towards the girl who looks towards him. She sniffs and starts to walk slowly and solemnly towards him. A woman who sits on the carpet opens her arms, awaiting the return of Zhida.
Namuk turns his head to face Akela as he dips his fingers into some sort of ointment. "Sleep. If they're asleep they won't lash out. And with the fever at bay, the madness won't set in as quickly. The Guild Arcane have been crafting spells to try and flush whatever this is from the body, but I'm not sure whether or not they've done it–certainly haven't thus far." He spreads the dark brown paste under the eyes of a woman whose sweat has left a dark imprint on the cot beneath her. Wiping the remainder under his own eyes, he adds, "If you want to speak with them, they're toiling away in the old watchtower. It's the only tall stone building that's not attached to the city walls."
Akela watched Namuk as he pulls out the ointment and apply it to a woman before doing the same to himself. She lifted her trunk slightly and sniffed at the ointment in his hands, breathing in to catch what scents that came from it.
"Is that what helps them sleep?" she asked. Her great ears flapped again as she let what information he gave her mull in her mind. When he suggested that she go the Guild Arcane, she nodded her head. "I will see about doing that. How long has this been going on for?"
“Shall we take a cleric with us, Durug?” Vimak says. “No knowing what we will find in the tower.” Vimak nods down at the dwarf. “If your commanding officer is comfortable with it,” he says to her, “of course.”
Getting to the tower means crossing through the camp. Such a swarm of people. Such a swamp of smells. He understands there can’t be much organization, given Keltar’s situation, but chaos worries him. Too many surprises. The trip through the camp always makes him want to wear his shield and hold his ax.
Even now, right in front of them, a little girl walks like a reluctant dog at a man’s whistle. Should she be with a man who treats others this way or with the woman behind her? The woman with a pattern of yellow diamonds in the light blue stripe along the edge of her hood?
Niyin adjusted her bag, grasping at the strap that crossed her body as a way to hold herself, an unconscious movement of security she had adapted shortly after leaving home. Watching the little girl be beckoned back to her parents released a bit of the homesickness she kept locked away in her heart and it beat hard once. For the briefest of moments, she wondered how her mother fared; but, then she recalled her mother's own illness years ago that she had survived and Niyin remembered why she had traveled to the diseased city.
The child now safely back with her parents, she took that moment to take in what was around her. Many others sat or lied waiting for something to happen; for the guards to move, for the sickness to take them, for the sun to fall and hide the deeper shadows looming over them. The heat of the sun was avoidable by some, many of them had adapted, but there were others that that stood out differently and had obviously done the same as she. One particular tall, overseeing set of eyes caught her glance and she returned the stare. She had not seen many Goliath's, not had the chance to study them, though how fruitful the information would be was unknown, as she was a runt at 5'1" compared to their kind. Who had ever heard of a Goliath so small? Maybe a half breed?
There was a sharp tug on her hair, and she scowled. "He could squish you like a bug," cackled the little imp. "Do you want to be like him? Big and strong? Ha! You can't! Stupid girl!" She waved her hand over her shoulder, knowing she missed the agile little pest and turned away from the guard's sight. The imp skittered across her bag onto her other shoulder, still cackling.
"Do not cause trouble for me here," she warned.
"I would never dream of it," said the imp with feignedinsult.
Towards the child, to Zhida, she turned and found her smile once more and walked through the tents and people. How long had they lived like this? How far had the disease spread? What had been done to keep it under control? She had gained bits of information, hastily spit rumors of travelers or those who had heard it from one who had heard it from another. She needed a source of information to know the truth of it. "Zhida, is that your name?" She smiled first at the girl and then to her assumed parents. "Good day to you. I hope I'm not being a bother. May I sit?" Tucking the back of her dress against her legs, she sat on her knees and rested back on her ankles. "My name is Niyin and I've come to offer what aid I can. Your little one asked for some help, saying she was looking for her Babaye. Do you need help looking for this person? When did you last see them?"
Hmm, Vimak thinks. That woman sitting on the carpet welcomes the girl with open arms. And now the woman with the blue stripe along the edge of her hood walks toward them, speaks to them. She must be friends of that family. Certainly an innocent enough scene.
He looks beyond them, over the crowded tents. Blue smoke rises from support beams on the top of the wizards’ watchtower. “Has that smoke always been there, Durug?” Vimak points.
They may not have time to wait for this priest of Ilmater, even if she can go to the tower with them.
There's an indistinct smell to the paste. It seems like it could contain some sort of mint, pennyroyal or wormwood, but you really can't quite tell.
Namuk notices your sniffing at the air and your inquiring eye and tosses a small ceramic jarto you. It looks as though it contains enough of the paste for five uses.
"Be careful not to use too much or you'll have the patient's eyes watering." He then waves you on before looking down to your legs as a small dwarf woman in priest's robes scoots around your side.
"Ay, Namuk. Living my best life," she says, greeting the half-elf.
"And living mine. What do you need, Didna? Are there scorpions in the tent again?"
"No, no. I'm needing a short break from all this. To get my head on–it's a bit, you know."
Namuk sighs and nods. "Yes, yes. Just don't sleep or run off. There are a limited number of us and we're struggling as is." Didna pauses, seemingly mulling over what Namuk said. She nods and offers a wave, and trots out of the tent again, swinging around Akela's leg.
The dwarf woman looks up at you with a grim expression on her face as she wiggles her fingers to get the last bit of vomit off of her robes. "A wee break from this might do me well," she says. She speaks with an accent that gives her away as a foreigner. "They mightn't hold back a red cord from me for resting a bit after some spittle. I'll see what the physician at these tents says." She walks away from you and into another tent, having to scoot around a loxodon who stands at the entrance.
"No," Durug says, answering Vimak's question about the tower. "It's been a hot pile of stone at least as long as I've been a guard. A while I mean. Guild members must be burning something fierce in there, though, to get that much smoke in the air. Wonder why it's blue..." He scratches at his head.
"I can come along for a bit of a stroll," the dwarven woman says, having returned from the tent. "They won't miss me too much. Name's Didna by the by."
Having returned to her mother and now sitting on her lap, Zhida looks up at Niyin. "Yes, I'm–"
"Yes, she is Zhida. I am Pedar. Who are you?" says the man who beckoned the girl over. Suspicion flashes across his face, but it's soon soft again. He holds a small red clay cup filled with water out to his daughter, who accepts it and drinks from it greedily. He smiles and turns back to Niyin. "I am sorry. I do not mean to lash out. It's been a difficult time. Zhida's babaye, my father is hiding somewhere."
"He liked to take naps!" Zhida adds. "But babaye wouldn't have slept through the noise." Her father shoots her a look and says, "I'm sure that your babaye is just fine. He's probably with the Guild in their stone tower, teaching them to use that blue ring of his." Zhida looks discouraged. Pedar again addresses Niyin. "I talked with my father the morning before we had to leave the city. I'm sure he'll be joining us soon."
Akela caught the ceramic jar he had tossed to her and gave low rumble as her curiosity intensified. She had always found new objects to be fascinating. Hmmm. Namuk said it had come from Chult. Perhaps she could see about getting some more somewhere. If it helped with the symptoms, perhaps more of this paste would help buy them some time while they tried to find out what was causing this plague and how they could cure it.
Akela carefully tucked the small jar away for later use. She have to use it wisely. She moved to follow Namuk when a dwarven woman darted around her. Loxodon's weren't as clumsy as many would think, but given the size difference between them, Akela stood still so not to accidentally step on Didna.
She watched the exchange between the dwarf and half-elf. When Didna waved as she turned to leave, Akela gave her a happy wave back. She stared after the dwarf before turning back to Namuk.
"I suppose I should see to the city guard you had mentioned," she said. She wanted to go to the Guild Arcane, but perhaps she could help ease some of the burden Namuk and the others had trying to help these poor people.
"Is there anymore information you can give me about this illness? Any extra supplies that I can take with me?"
“Greetings, Didna. I am Vimak Stormforged Katho-Laga of the Keltar Guard. This is Durug.” Vimak gestures toward the half-orc. Durug smiles, but as usual it is a scary sight. “We’ve been asked to check on the Guild Arcane. Thank you for being willing to join us.” He knows his voice carries, but there's no reason to keep these orders a secret.
Vimak turns and walks toward the tower. “What can you tell us about the plague, Didna? We know it can lead to fighting. A cough and fever are involved. Also, apparently, puke.” He doesn’t want to shame the dwarf, but they need to understand the sickness. “What seems to be the cause? How close is the city to a cure?”
A few tents to their left about form a line pointing toward the horizon. Facing those tents were more, also in a row. Almost an orderly street. If things don’t change soon, the guard might be asked to dig gutters, set up privies. Many of them had already been tasked with collecting the bodies. Dividing the guard up this way is not a good idea, especially now.
“How can we keep more people from getting it?" Vimak asks. "Is magic the cause?” As he speaks, Vimak watches the crowds around them. He listens for shouts or loud noises. The blue smoke might be a bad sign, but as his old mother said, nothing panics a panicky tribe like a running guard.
Nodding as Pedar spoke, Niyin took note of what he said while keeping the mischievous little imp in her sights as he climbed down from her back and walked around all of them on the blanket. At mention of the stone tower, she turned her sights upon it, noting the blue smoke currently rising from it's vicinity. Since there was no panic raised, she didn't give it much more thought than it was a curious color. She made it her goal to work towards the tower, to see what the Guild had learned. But first, she wanted to know what the
Zhida's young innocence made her smile, even with the imp coming so near the little girl should have seen him as he stood up on his tip toes to look into her bowl. "I'm sure your father is right and your babaye is fine. In fact, I'm on my way to the tower now. If I see him, I will let him know his family is waiting for him, especially you, Zhida." She stood slowly. The imp took the subtle sign and quickly climbed her cloak to ride her shoulders. Gods forbid the little brat use his own legs to walk, or his little wings to fly ahead for her and scout.
"Before I go, I was hoping to ask some questions. What can you tell me about what happened here? How long has it been going on? When was the evacuation? Has anyone been able to figure out the source of the outbreak? Who are the ones overseeing the population? Who is in charge?" She stopped a moment, having rambled on quickly before thinking. "And... how is morale?"
"I'm afraid not. You're welcome to take a spare healer's kit should you need to stabilize someone," Namuk offers, testing a man's temperature with his wrist. His attention fixes on the man whose head he holds up so that he can offer him a drink of water, while other priests hold their cords and chant prayers.
Despite the chanting and the coughing, the volume in the tent grows relatively low. But it sounds like something is beginning to stir outside...
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A woman's scream pierces the din at the western sabban gate. A small cohort of guards struggle to quickly prepare their crossbows and aiming through the gate and down the street, waiting. There's the clapping of shoes against stone and in the distance a woman appears. She's running towards the gate, wearing a look of terror and clutching a baby in a blue silk wrap tightly against her chest. A captain of the guard takes a step forward and with a hand on the hilt of her blade calls out, "There is no one allowed in, or out!" But the woman doesn't hear her and continues to barrel on towards the gate. There's a bang as the doors of storefronts and homes burst open as horrendous figures throw themselves into the street and begin to chase after the woman. Their hideous visages covered with lesions and boils aren't nearly as unsettling as the gurgling screams they release as they lurch in pursuit of the woman. Several of the guards jump at the sound and loose their bolts into the sides of buildings. They rush to reload their crossbows as their captain draws her sword and repeats her warning, "No one is allowed in, or out! Stop where you are!" But the woman again does not stop. She's aware of the horrors that pursue her and she reaches out towards the gate and pleads, "Please help me! Please help my baby!" She's close enough now that the baby's cries are audible. More of the twisted figures join the chase, dashing out from alleyways. The captain stares through the woman and repeats herself a third time, "No one is allowed in, or–" There's a twang. And then another. The entirety of the cohort looses their bolts. The woman crumples onto the ground and then there is silence. The captain's mouth is left agape. Several of the guard wipe their eyes or fall to their knees. The terrible figures stand and just stare at the gate, bile and blood leaking from their mouths. As the wind blows sand around the woman's corpse, they slowly empty from the street, returning to the doorways and alleys. This is Keltar now.
Inside one of the numbers medical tents that pepper the temporary camps outside the west sabban, a young half-elf named Namuk yn Annas el Ilmater is hurriedly making his way around. With him is a loxodon, Akela.
"Well, I just don't know what is to be done. There are broken bones, coughs and corpses," he explains, tightening the bandages around a young boy's leg. "Maybe their cough is really just a cough or maybe they'll turn around, feral, and smash your face in." An older man across the tent cries out in pain and Namuk turns to him. He grips the red thread bindings on his right wrist and utters a word in the local tongue. Almost immediately, the older man is quieted and seems to feel a bit better. Namuk lets out a sharp breath and turns to face Akela.
"Truthfully, we need the help. Without access to the temple, we're struggling. Can you go and see if you can tend to any of the city guard who were injured? We have our hands full here."
The sun shines down brightly on the guardsmen. The area is fenced off and several of the guard are sitting or practicing their swordplay.
"This is surely the end of times. Times are ending surely–"
"Oh shut up, Iman," says a half-orc guard. The man who he said it to flinches and looks down at his feet, whispering, "...You should be afraid too, Durug..." Durug goes back to wiping his blade clean of blood and dust, and calls out, "Vimak! Hey! This is brutal isn't it?" He's referring to the quarantine in the city. Several days ago, the order went around to each sabban that people that were healthy were to be evacuated and the city to be closed off. Simple tasks which became complicated with the added layer of fear and the ferociousness of the ill. Thousands of people made it out of the west sabban gate, thousands more were cut down by frightened guards or simply trapped in the various other sabbans. Durug holds his sword up to better catch the sunlight and blows along the blade, before continuing. "Some of the guard are saying that the call to evacuate wasn't sanctioned. Crazy idea is what I told them, before I clocked them." He lets out a chuckle. "Anyways, you holding it together? We have to go check in on the Guild Arcane members before sundown and I don't want you pissing yourself on the way."
"Oh no, what is this–please move!" The man driving the carriage forward has come to a halt and waves his hands frantically at several cows that stand in the road. "Beasts, devils, move!"
In the back of the carriage, underneath the wonderfully ornate paper roof that blocked only the harshest of the desert sun's rays, sits Niyin and a human man of Tashlutan descent. Despite having been traveling together for quite some time, the man hadn't said even one word. He just stared out into the sandy flats and patted beads of sweat from his forehead. This news of stopping, however, stirred something in him.
"Ne, why are we not moving any longer?" he demands from the driver.
"Cursed cows is why!"
"No, I will have none of this, driver." He mutters something, beats his chest lightly twice, and all of the cows in the road immediately dart into the wastes. "There, now we can continue our journey on." The driver seems confused and maybe a little bit concerned, but he shakes it off and continues on to Keltar.
The carriage arrives soon after to a scene of chaos. Thousands of people are milling around. Some set up tents, others are running around, while others just simply lay on the ground. As the carriage moves closer towards the center of the camp, the overwhelming smell of sweat, sick, and bovine feces fills the air–a far cry from the modest mercantile luxury that Keltar has usually been associated with. The strange man jumps off of the carriage and breathes deeply, before spitting onto the ground and walking off.
"Something's wrong here. I brought you, so get off so I can leave," the driver shouts back at Niyin. And she does indeed hop off of the carriage and is immediately approached by a young girl in a rough-spun dress.
"Have you seen my Babaye?"
“The heat is what’s brutal, Durug,” Vimak says. Vimak wears a poorly tied turban on his bald head. Stripes of bright red sunburn cover his arms and chest, though he is learning to wear the long cloth clothing common here. “What do you mean the call to evacuate wasn’t sanctioned? Who said that?”
Vimak stands, slinging his shield onto his back while watching the other guards drill. Their footwork is sloppy enough to raise clouds of orange dust. Knowing how they fight, who twitches how before they swing, for example, is valuable. It never hurts to watch and learn, pick up strategies and moves. If the guard’s orders are based on rumor, the government is as sick as the people here. If the government is sick then the guard’s pay may be rumor soon too. The guard’s loyalty, even to each other, may not last if they aren’t being paid.
Iman stands as well, and then, grunting, Durug climbs to his feet. “You told the sergeant we were going to the Guild Arcane, right Iman?” Vimak says. “Durug? You were saying?”
They step out from under the canopy and the mild shade it provided into the flaming sunlight.
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
Niyin had a brief moment to take in the scene around her, to feel the aura of disease and death moving in to choke her, when a small voice stole her attention. She looked down at the girl, studying her: her eyes and how they shone, her hair and how it moved in the breeze, the texture of her flesh and the color it absorbed from the sun. The changling committed chosen details to memory as she looked down at the child... and smiled.
"She's going to die." The smile faltered as the scratchy, sandpaper-like voice whispered in her ear, the imp's hot breath an uncomfortable temperature in the desert sun. "They'll all die."
"Not if I can help," she snapped at her own shoulder. To any other, she was talking to air and the glowing flints of the imp's eyes moved with laughter. Niyin looked quickly to the girl and sighed with a new smile. "Sorry dear, the long journey has given me a bit of a headache and my words got confused. I'm here to help, if I can. What does your Babaye look like?"
Akela's large ears flapped slowly, acting as fans to help keep herself cool in the Keltarian heat. It seemed hotter inside the tents than outside if that was at all possible. What she wouldn't give for a nice cooling mud mask right about now. But there were more important matters that needed her attention at the moment. Akela looked around at the full cots around her as she followed the half-elf Namuk, watching as he tended to the people.
"Just a cough," Akela muttered almost as if talking to herself. She gave a heavy sigh. There were so many sick and just as many, if not more, that were dying. When Akela first arrived she assumed that it was some random illness that was spreading through the city, that would come and go much like a flu or a cold. Something that consisted of a cough the reports said. But this was far more than just a simple cough. There was something more serious going on here. Akela turned to Namuk.
"Of course," she said with a slight bow of her head. "I am more than happy to help however I can." She turned to start gathering what supplies she might need to take with her, but hesitated and turned back to Namuk. "What is being done as far as treatment? Is anything working even a little bit?"
(Sorry this is late)
"A few of those cowards. Claimed there wasn't any order with the Sultan's seal–the disrespect for command!" Durug wrinkles his face and spits on the ground. He throws a fist into his palm and adds, "Hiding out with the injured now that they've got a few more bruises."
As Vimak and Durug make their way out of the impromptu guard post, a trainee jumps to his feet to feign vigilance. Durug grunts and answers Vimak's question. "Indeed. Order to check in came from the sergeant along with where to head. Those wizards are holed up in the watchtower–the old one outside the gates." He points out over several tents to a old sandstone tower. What was a wooden roof back in the early days of its construction is merely four sun-bleached wooden supports at each corner and a bluish smoke rises up between them.
"Damn it all!" A dwarf runs out of a nearby tent marked with both the emblem of the Keltari guard and of Ilmater. You can tell that she's dressed in the simple robes of a priest of Ilmater, despite the front of her garb being covered in vomit that surely is not her own. She begins to move her fingers and mutter something and the wet spots begin to disappear. Durug lets out a chuckle and asks, "Shall we move on?"
The girl's lip quivers as she looks up at Niyin's smiling face. She starts to try and say something, but chokes it back several times, before being able to say, "He's really old. Papa says he came out before we did, but I can't find him." She wipes her face with her sleeve, the tears leaving streaks in the dirt on her face. "He lets me feed his cows and give them water. He has a pretty blue ring that makes water appear for them."
There's a whistle from nearby and a man stands up from a carpet laid outside one of the various tents. "Zhida, leave that woman alone. Come here." He motions towards the girl who looks towards him. She sniffs and starts to walk slowly and solemnly towards him. A woman who sits on the carpet opens her arms, awaiting the return of Zhida.
Namuk turns his head to face Akela as he dips his fingers into some sort of ointment. "Sleep. If they're asleep they won't lash out. And with the fever at bay, the madness won't set in as quickly. The Guild Arcane have been crafting spells to try and flush whatever this is from the body, but I'm not sure whether or not they've done it–certainly haven't thus far." He spreads the dark brown paste under the eyes of a woman whose sweat has left a dark imprint on the cot beneath her. Wiping the remainder under his own eyes, he adds, "If you want to speak with them, they're toiling away in the old watchtower. It's the only tall stone building that's not attached to the city walls."
Akela watched Namuk as he pulls out the ointment and apply it to a woman before doing the same to himself. She lifted her trunk slightly and sniffed at the ointment in his hands, breathing in to catch what scents that came from it.
"Is that what helps them sleep?" she asked. Her great ears flapped again as she let what information he gave her mull in her mind. When he suggested that she go the Guild Arcane, she nodded her head. "I will see about doing that. How long has this been going on for?"
The ointment carries a strong smell, fitting for something of its color and texture.
"In a way. It's imported from Chult. Not sure what's in it, but it's rather cooling, which we need under this roof–what a trade; shade for more heat."
Roll for Medicine if you'd like to try and identify the components in the paste by scent.
“Shall we take a cleric with us, Durug?” Vimak says. “No knowing what we will find in the tower.” Vimak nods down at the dwarf. “If your commanding officer is comfortable with it,” he says to her, “of course.”
Getting to the tower means crossing through the camp. Such a swarm of people. Such a swamp of smells. He understands there can’t be much organization, given Keltar’s situation, but chaos worries him. Too many surprises. The trip through the camp always makes him want to wear his shield and hold his ax.
Even now, right in front of them, a little girl walks like a reluctant dog at a man’s whistle. Should she be with a man who treats others this way or with the woman behind her? The woman with a pattern of yellow diamonds in the light blue stripe along the edge of her hood?
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
(Okay bare with me. I'm a little rusty when it comes to rolls and this is the first time I've used the rolling system on dndbeyond)
23
:(
Niyin adjusted her bag, grasping at the strap that crossed her body as a way to hold herself, an unconscious movement of security she had adapted shortly after leaving home. Watching the little girl be beckoned back to her parents released a bit of the homesickness she kept locked away in her heart and it beat hard once. For the briefest of moments, she wondered how her mother fared; but, then she recalled her mother's own illness years ago that she had survived and Niyin remembered why she had traveled to the diseased city.
The child now safely back with her parents, she took that moment to take in what was around her. Many others sat or lied waiting for something to happen; for the guards to move, for the sickness to take them, for the sun to fall and hide the deeper shadows looming over them. The heat of the sun was avoidable by some, many of them had adapted, but there were others that that stood out differently and had obviously done the same as she. One particular tall, overseeing set of eyes caught her glance and she returned the stare. She had not seen many Goliath's, not had the chance to study them, though how fruitful the information would be was unknown, as she was a runt at 5'1" compared to their kind. Who had ever heard of a Goliath so small? Maybe a half breed?
There was a sharp tug on her hair, and she scowled. "He could squish you like a bug," cackled the little imp. "Do you want to be like him? Big and strong? Ha! You can't! Stupid girl!" She waved her hand over her shoulder, knowing she missed the agile little pest and turned away from the guard's sight. The imp skittered across her bag onto her other shoulder, still cackling.
"Do not cause trouble for me here," she warned.
"I would never dream of it," said the imp with feigned insult.
Towards the child, to Zhida, she turned and found her smile once more and walked through the tents and people. How long had they lived like this? How far had the disease spread? What had been done to keep it under control? She had gained bits of information, hastily spit rumors of travelers or those who had heard it from one who had heard it from another. She needed a source of information to know the truth of it. "Zhida, is that your name?" She smiled first at the girl and then to her assumed parents. "Good day to you. I hope I'm not being a bother. May I sit?" Tucking the back of her dress against her legs, she sat on her knees and rested back on her ankles. "My name is Niyin and I've come to offer what aid I can. Your little one asked for some help, saying she was looking for her Babaye. Do you need help looking for this person? When did you last see them?"
Hmm, Vimak thinks. That woman sitting on the carpet welcomes the girl with open arms. And now the woman with the blue stripe along the edge of her hood walks toward them, speaks to them. She must be friends of that family. Certainly an innocent enough scene.
He looks beyond them, over the crowded tents. Blue smoke rises from support beams on the top of the wizards’ watchtower. “Has that smoke always been there, Durug?” Vimak points.
They may not have time to wait for this priest of Ilmater, even if she can go to the tower with them.
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
There's an indistinct smell to the paste. It seems like it could contain some sort of mint, pennyroyal or wormwood, but you really can't quite tell.
Namuk notices your sniffing at the air and your inquiring eye and tosses a small ceramic jar to you. It looks as though it contains enough of the paste for five uses.
"Be careful not to use too much or you'll have the patient's eyes watering." He then waves you on before looking down to your legs as a small dwarf woman in priest's robes scoots around your side.
"Ay, Namuk. Living my best life," she says, greeting the half-elf.
"And living mine. What do you need, Didna? Are there scorpions in the tent again?"
"No, no. I'm needing a short break from all this. To get my head on–it's a bit, you know."
Namuk sighs and nods. "Yes, yes. Just don't sleep or run off. There are a limited number of us and we're struggling as is." Didna pauses, seemingly mulling over what Namuk said. She nods and offers a wave, and trots out of the tent again, swinging around Akela's leg.
The dwarf woman looks up at you with a grim expression on her face as she wiggles her fingers to get the last bit of vomit off of her robes. "A wee break from this might do me well," she says. She speaks with an accent that gives her away as a foreigner. "They mightn't hold back a red cord from me for resting a bit after some spittle. I'll see what the physician at these tents says." She walks away from you and into another tent, having to scoot around a loxodon who stands at the entrance.
"No," Durug says, answering Vimak's question about the tower. "It's been a hot pile of stone at least as long as I've been a guard. A while I mean. Guild members must be burning something fierce in there, though, to get that much smoke in the air. Wonder why it's blue..." He scratches at his head.
"I can come along for a bit of a stroll," the dwarven woman says, having returned from the tent. "They won't miss me too much. Name's Didna by the by."
Having returned to her mother and now sitting on her lap, Zhida looks up at Niyin. "Yes, I'm–"
"Yes, she is Zhida. I am Pedar. Who are you?" says the man who beckoned the girl over. Suspicion flashes across his face, but it's soon soft again. He holds a small red clay cup filled with water out to his daughter, who accepts it and drinks from it greedily. He smiles and turns back to Niyin. "I am sorry. I do not mean to lash out. It's been a difficult time. Zhida's babaye, my father is hiding somewhere."
"He liked to take naps!" Zhida adds. "But babaye wouldn't have slept through the noise." Her father shoots her a look and says, "I'm sure that your babaye is just fine. He's probably with the Guild in their stone tower, teaching them to use that blue ring of his." Zhida looks discouraged. Pedar again addresses Niyin. "I talked with my father the morning before we had to leave the city. I'm sure he'll be joining us soon."
Akela caught the ceramic jar he had tossed to her and gave low rumble as her curiosity intensified. She had always found new objects to be fascinating. Hmmm. Namuk said it had come from Chult. Perhaps she could see about getting some more somewhere. If it helped with the symptoms, perhaps more of this paste would help buy them some time while they tried to find out what was causing this plague and how they could cure it.
Akela carefully tucked the small jar away for later use. She have to use it wisely. She moved to follow Namuk when a dwarven woman darted around her. Loxodon's weren't as clumsy as many would think, but given the size difference between them, Akela stood still so not to accidentally step on Didna.
She watched the exchange between the dwarf and half-elf. When Didna waved as she turned to leave, Akela gave her a happy wave back. She stared after the dwarf before turning back to Namuk.
"I suppose I should see to the city guard you had mentioned," she said. She wanted to go to the Guild Arcane, but perhaps she could help ease some of the burden Namuk and the others had trying to help these poor people.
"Is there anymore information you can give me about this illness? Any extra supplies that I can take with me?"
“Greetings, Didna. I am Vimak Stormforged Katho-Laga of the Keltar Guard. This is Durug.” Vimak gestures toward the half-orc. Durug smiles, but as usual it is a scary sight. “We’ve been asked to check on the Guild Arcane. Thank you for being willing to join us.” He knows his voice carries, but there's no reason to keep these orders a secret.
Vimak turns and walks toward the tower. “What can you tell us about the plague, Didna? We know it can lead to fighting. A cough and fever are involved. Also, apparently, puke.” He doesn’t want to shame the dwarf, but they need to understand the sickness. “What seems to be the cause? How close is the city to a cure?”
A few tents to their left about form a line pointing toward the horizon. Facing those tents were more, also in a row. Almost an orderly street. If things don’t change soon, the guard might be asked to dig gutters, set up privies. Many of them had already been tasked with collecting the bodies. Dividing the guard up this way is not a good idea, especially now.
“How can we keep more people from getting it?" Vimak asks. "Is magic the cause?” As he speaks, Vimak watches the crowds around them. He listens for shouts or loud noises. The blue smoke might be a bad sign, but as his old mother said, nothing panics a panicky tribe like a running guard.
Death on the Water and Baldur's Gate Bodyguard
Nodding as Pedar spoke, Niyin took note of what he said while keeping the mischievous little imp in her sights as he climbed down from her back and walked around all of them on the blanket. At mention of the stone tower, she turned her sights upon it, noting the blue smoke currently rising from it's vicinity. Since there was no panic raised, she didn't give it much more thought than it was a curious color. She made it her goal to work towards the tower, to see what the Guild had learned. But first, she wanted to know what the
Zhida's young innocence made her smile, even with the imp coming so near the little girl should have seen him as he stood up on his tip toes to look into her bowl. "I'm sure your father is right and your babaye is fine. In fact, I'm on my way to the tower now. If I see him, I will let him know his family is waiting for him, especially you, Zhida." She stood slowly. The imp took the subtle sign and quickly climbed her cloak to ride her shoulders. Gods forbid the little brat use his own legs to walk, or his little wings to fly ahead for her and scout.
"Before I go, I was hoping to ask some questions. What can you tell me about what happened here? How long has it been going on? When was the evacuation? Has anyone been able to figure out the source of the outbreak? Who are the ones overseeing the population? Who is in charge?" She stopped a moment, having rambled on quickly before thinking. "And... how is morale?"
"I'm afraid not. You're welcome to take a spare healer's kit should you need to stabilize someone," Namuk offers, testing a man's temperature with his wrist. His attention fixes on the man whose head he holds up so that he can offer him a drink of water, while other priests hold their cords and chant prayers.
Despite the chanting and the coughing, the volume in the tent grows relatively low. But it sounds like something is beginning to stir outside...