Adventure Log VIII.II
TRAIL’S END OUTBREAK
Trail’s End was a stark contrast to the heart of Korvosa. It was a poor and reputedly dangerous area, but it had its own unique character. The neighbourhood felt more like a small town than any district within the city proper. Narrow, winding streets were lined with ramshackle houses, their facades worn and faded from years of neglect. The criminal element was obvious and impossible to ignore. Dozens of toughs and thugs loitered on street corners and in the shadows of alleyways, their eyes sharp and unwelcoming.
Despite the tension, there was a sense of community among the residents. Small market stalls lined the streets, vendors selling their wares to neighbours and passersby. Children played in the dirt, their laughter a rare sound of innocence in an otherwise harsh environment.
As Byron, Trevor, and Grau walked through the area, they couldn't help but feel the eyes of the ‘Bashwater Boys on’ them. Two thugs walked towards them, and the party instantly expected violence. But when they approached they greeted Grau Soldado as a friend, expressing their concern for his niece. Just like Old Korvosa, Trails End, cared for their own.
Grau led the party onwards with determination, his worry for his niece evident in his hurried steps. They weaved through the streets, past crumbling buildings and makeshift homes, until they reached Tayce’s modest dwelling. The small house, though humble, was well-kept, a sign of his sister's care and resilience despite the surrounding hardships.
As they approached, the sound of children's laughter filled the air, drawing their attention to the sight of two youngsters, Charlo and Rello, playing in the front yard. Their unruly black hair danced in the breeze, framing their curious brown eyes and olive skin. When Trevor, the towering Half-Orc, emerged from the shadows, their gazes widened in awe.
"Are those your real teeth?" Charlo blurted out, his voice tinged with both wonder and apprehension.
“Can we touch them?” followed up Rello
Trevor chuckled warmly, his tusks gleaming in the dim light. "Aye, they are. But it's best to ask your mother before touching them. Wouldn't want to startle her. After all, I am a stranger!"
The two children nodded in agreement while still staring in awe at Trevors tusks.
As the party stepped inside the house, they could see, amidst the aroma of cinnamon and anise, a man of Vudrani descent moved gracefully about the kitchen. Dressed in robes of white and gold, he brewed a concoction with practised skill, his dark eyes reflecting a quiet kindness. He was clearly a priest of Abadar. Grau's displeasure at the sight of him was evident, yet he disappeared upstairs without a word.
The party couldn’t help but hear fleeting glimpses of their conversation, laden with worry and urgency. Grau was clearly upset that his sister had gone to the church for help, he promised he would help and he had and asked her to follow him
Grau then descended the stairs with his sister following. Her dishevelled, worried appearance belied her natural beauty. Confusion etched upon her features at the sight of strangers in her home. Trevor tried to reassure her knew her brother from working with in the past. Calli then mentioned they were The Flowers Of Korvosa and just wanted to help. Recognition, amazement and hope sprang to Tayce’s concerned face but she still couldn’t understand what they were here. Calli tried to allay her nerves, saying Grau reached out to them and they were happy to help. After all, a child's life was sake. What was more important than that?
Grau then explained that Calli had offered to help pay for the priest's services, but a horrified Tayce refused. They may be poor but they were not beggars. Calli then pointed out that Grau never asked for the money, she volunteered it. The truth was too overwhelming for Tayce and she still couldn't accept Calli’s money. “Nobody does that,” she protested. Calli said that money came and went, but she couldn’t replace a child once lost. The mother finally relented, but proclaimed that she’d only take it on the condition that she owed Calli, even if just a favour, and she’d repay her one day. Sensing that Tayce’s pride was important to her, she agreed to help ease her anxiety, confirming that if she ever needing something she’d be in touch.
With the money now agreed, the group's collective gaze shifted toward the priest, anticipation and urgency etched on their faces. The child’s cure was now the priest's responsibility. Nodding solemnly, the priest turned and began ascending the creaky, wooden staircase. Just as he placed his foot on the first step, Taylan's voice rang out, firm and insistent.
"I’m coming with you."
The priest halted mid-step, turning back with a raised eyebrow, curiosity mingling with suspicion. "And why is that?" he queried, clearly taken aback by Taylan’s unexpected assertion.
Taylan squared his shoulders, a hint of the hard life he had led flashing in his eyes. "I’ve lived my whole life on the streets," he began, his voice steady and resolute. "I’ve seen every kind of disease and plague you can imagine on my travels. I might recognize the symptoms better than most."
The priest hesitated, scrutinising Taylan’s face for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive. After a moment that felt like an eternity, he gave a reluctant nod. "Very well," he conceded, turning once more to climb the stairs. "But stay outside the room," he added with a stern glance over his shoulder. "For your own safety."
Taylan followed, his mind racing with thoughts of the child’s condition, determined to offer whatever aid he could in this desperate situation.
As Taylan reached the top of the stairs, the priest's warning echoed in his mind, but his curiosity and concern overpowered caution. He cautiously approached the doorway and peered inside. His heart sank at the sight before him.
A young girl with auburn hair lay in the bed, her tiny frame swallowed by an assortment of pillows, afghans, and quilts. This was Brenna Soldado. Her face and arms were marred by splotches of an angry red rash, the irregular shapes and sizes creating a patchwork of suffering. The girl’s restlessness suddenly erupted into a violent fit of hacking coughs, her frail body convulsing with such force that she was lifted off her pillows. Taylan winced in sympathy, knowing that such spasms offered no relief, only further weariness.
The priest was already at her side, his hands moving with practised efficiency as he examined her. His face was a mask of calm concentration, but Taylan could see the flicker of concern in his eyes. He then looked towards Taylan and indicated they needed to return to the party downstairs.
As the priest and Taylan descended the stairs, a heavy silence hung over them, each lost in their own thoughts. Taylan's mind raced, trying to make sense of the strange symptoms that afflicted the girl. Buboes were unfamiliar to him, and seeing them on her body sent a shiver of unease down his spine. The priest, too, seemed troubled, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. This was something new and unfamiliar to them.
While Taylan and the priest were upstairs, the others tried to determine where this strange illness may have been obtained. Calli looked to the two boys playing and asked Tayce and Grau to busy themselves in another room while she questioned them, explaining sometimes children sneak off and don’t want their parents to find out. They readily agreed and stepped outside with the rest of the Flowers.
Calli crouched down, her gaze soft yet probing as she met the eyes of the two young souls burdened by the weight of their sister's illness. She knew that every word she spoke was a delicate thread in the tapestry of their trust, and she treaded carefully, mindful of the fragility of their situation. She began by talking to them about the simple game of pick-up-sticks they were playing, and asked them to let her have a go. Once she felt them distracted by the game, she turned the conversation towards the previous day.
"Hi guys," she began, her voice a soothing melody against the backdrop of their anxious hearts. "I need your help with something very important. Can you share with me where you've been spending your time lately?"
The boys exchanged a fleeting glance, their expressions a dance of uncertainty and apprehension. After a moment of silent deliberation, Charlo's voice broke the silence, tentative yet earnest. "We've been down by the shoreline," he confessed, his words carrying the weight of hidden secrets.
Calli's heart sank at the revelation. The shoreline. It wasn't far from where the pirate ship had met its end, a recent event that still lingered in the minds of the townsfolk- ‘Yellow Lights” Could there be a connection?
"What drew you there?" she inquired gently, her eyes searching their faces for the faintest flicker of insight.
Rello explained the family went together to see the strange ship coming down the river, and how they’d watched it get destroyed when it failed to heed the watch. The boys were as impressed by the fiery attack as the rest of the people in town seemed to be.
Calli absorbed their responses with a careful attentiveness, each word a breadcrumb leading her closer to the truth. "Did anything unusual catch your eye while you were there?" she pressed further, her curiosity a beacon in the sea of uncertainty. "Anything out of the ordinary wash up from the wreckage?"
The boys exchanged a hesitant glance, their brows furrowing in concentration as they sifted through the fragments of memory. After a moment's contemplation, Charlo shook his head. "No, nothing strange," he replied, his voice tinged with a sense of resignation. They also denied going in the water when asked, saying it was too muddy.
Calli nodded, masking her disappointment behind a facade of understanding. She probed for insights into hidden coves or secret boltholes the kids might have, but hit only dead ends. With a gentle smile for the boys, she thanked them for their honesty and bid them go play.
She called back in the adults from outside as Taylan and Ishani came back down the stairs. Once they were all together again in the main room, the tension in the air was palpable. Taylan could feel the weight of their expectations bearing down on him as they looked to him and the priest for answers.
The priest finally introduced himself as Ishani Dhatri, and then apologized. "I'm sorry," the priest began, his voice thick with regret. "But I've expended all my powers for today. I cannot help her with magic."
The room erupted in a chorus of outrage and disappointment, their voices blending into a cacophony of frustration. A child's life hung in the balance, and here they were, powerless to save her.
"I understand your anger," the priest said, his tone sombre. "But I have my limitations. I've tended to many sick today, and my powers are drained."
Accusations continued, their disdain evident as they voiced their disgruntlement at having entrusted their money to the priest, only to be met with empty promises. Nightingale in particular called out the injustice, asking how much the priest would have to pay to be cured himself. Understanding their outrage was stemming from a place of concern for Brenna, the priest made a solemn vow to stay the night at Soldado's house, promising to cure the girl when his powers were restored. Reluctantly, the party agreed, realising the gravity of the situation.
As night fell, Trevor pointed out that they too had to stay. Calli questioned why this should be the case, but Trevor indicated the danger their people of Korvosa faced if they returned to the city. For they may have, unbeknownst to them, have contracted the plague. Trevors words hung heavy in the air. Calli, though hesitant to sleep on the ground outside, conceded to the logic, knowing that to do otherwise would be to risk the lives of everyone they held dear.
The night passed slowly, the party restless and anxious, each haunted by the spectre of the disease that lurked just beyond the walls. But when dawn broke, hope dawned with it as the priest emerged from the sick room, a smile playing on his lips.
"She's cured," he announced, his voice filled with relief.
Tears of joy flowed freely as Tayce and Grau embraced, their hearts overflowing with gratitude and relief. In that moment, all the trials and tribulations they had faced melted away, replaced by the simple joy of knowing that a life had been saved.
The priest turned to the group, his expression thoughtful. "I couldn't possibly take the money," he began, his voice steady yet humble. "Your words about the church's practices have resonated with me. It is wrong to charge such large sums of the less fortunate, especially when a child's life is at stake. You are right." He passed back the bag of gold to Calli, who removed her 50 and gave the original 100 back to Grau.
Calli stepped forward, a warm smile on her face. "Thank you, Father," she said sincerely. "We appreciate your understanding. But we don't want you to get in trouble with your superiors or your god. Perhaps you could accept 50 gold pieces as a generous donation to the church?"
The priest hesitated for a moment before nodding gratefully. "Thank you. That is more than generous."
As the exchange concluded, a gasp rippled through the room. Calli turned to see the source of the shock: Taylan, his skin now marred with the same pockmarks that had afflicted the child. Horror and alarm spread among the party, and everyone instinctively stepped back from him.
The priest's eyes widened with concern. "Stay calm," he urged, raising his hands to signal for calm. With a few swift movements, he began to chant softly, his hands glowing with a faint, golden light. The magic enveloped Taylan, and moments later, the pockmarks faded away, leaving his skin clear once more.
"You're cured," the priest announced, though his voice was tinged with worry. "But this is disturbing. The speed at which this disease spread is alarming."
The priest turned to the group, his expression serious. "Part of the reason I’ve agreed to return the money is that my god is one of civilization, and the deeds The Flowers are doing are helping to maintain that. Come with me to the Church of Abadar. I may have need of your services to investigate and contain this threat."
The party exchanged glances, their resolve solidifying. The Flowers had their next mission. They turned to Grau Soldado and his family, who stood nearby, tears of relief and gratitude in their eyes.
"Thank you," Grau said, his voice thick with emotion. "You have saved my niece’s life. We owe you everything."
The party offered their farewells, each member sharing a moment of connection with the grateful family. With a final wave, they followed the priest out of the house, their hearts heavy with the knowledge of the new challenge that awaited them. Together, they made their way to the Church of Abadar, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
The city of Korvosa was a bustling hive of activity as the party crossed back over the bridge. The midday sun cast a warm glow over the grey-veined white marble of the Church of Abadar, reflecting off its surface like a beacon. The grand building, with its steep stairs and ramps leading up to the great bronze doors, loomed ahead. But the square in front of the temple was a scene of chaos and desperation.
Dozens of citizens, mostly from the working class but with a few merchants mingled in, crowded the entry, all seeking the church’s help. The throng was barely held back by a group of gold-armoured Abadarian clerics. The desperation in the air was palpable, and it became clear why so many were being turned away as one unfortunate soul, covered in violent red sores, was denied entry. They were all either infected, or there on behalf of an infected loved one.
To reach the church meant navigating through the throng. Trevor, with his imposing half-orc stature, seemed to part the crowd effortlessly, the mass of people stepping aside as he strode forward. The rest of the party took a more tactical approach. Using the summoned horses provided by Nightingale, they pressed through the crowd. Byron even swung the priest up behind him, and together they rode up the stairs to the church’s entrance.
As the party approached, the guards prepared to push them back. However, recognizing Ishani, they allowed the group entry. Inside, the temple was a stark contrast to the chaotic scene outside. The airy hall with its marble floors offered a brief respite from the tension of the streets.
Once inside, Ishani rushed off to confer with his superiors, and returned before much time had passed. Ishani faced the group, his demeanour sombre. "You've seen the crowd outside; the severity of our predicament is obvious. The symptoms are unmistakable. I hoped the Soldado case was an isolated incident, but it's evident we are facing a much larger crisis. I'm very worried for Korvosa and my fellow clergy. This morning, three of my colleagues fell sick. The same pok marks you have seen marked their bodies too. And yet the strange thing is that none of them had any dealings with the sick. I’m told more of our staff, including vault keepers, guards, and acolytes have also fallen ill. And as you can see, people from all over Korvosa are coming here seeking help."
He paused, the concern evident in his features. "They're calling the disease 'blood veil,' The illness is spreading rapidly and we don’t know how it’s being transmitted. What we do know though is that most of our patients are from North Point and Old Korvosa, mainly the lower class.”
Byron, Taylan, and Trevor immediately stiffened when they heard this. The thought of those close to them from these areas becoming sick, especially their friends and loved ones at Ruby's Rest, Nabootique, and The Cracked Weasel was deeply, deeply concerning.
Ishani continued ”Our resources are limited. We can only heal so many. We need to mobilise all the city's resources, including the faiths of Sarenrae, Pharasma, and even Asmodeus. I have been informed that we are already working to form alliances with these other faiths, but it won't be enough. We also need the Korvosan Guard."
Ishani's eyes met theirs, filled with urgency. "This is where I need your help. The city has never been so dangerous. With so many sick and desperate people, it would be impossible for me to move anywhere in the city without being surrounded and possibly abducted. I need to talk to Field Marshal Cressida Kroft and I have come to understand that you have a good relationship with her. Can you escort me to Citadel Volshyenek and introduce me?
The party nodded in unison, understanding the urgency of the situation. "Of course," Calli said, speaking for the group. "We'll take you to Citadel Volshyenek. The city needs us all now more than ever."