Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 23, 2007 9:31:07 GMT -5
-- Kelay Tavern--
Tenebrae grinned. "Feeling better, pet?"
Jabari shakes slightly, spotting Tenebrae, "Why is... You are just playing games with me..."
Vashun stepped into the tavern, though this time he would not bother with concealing himself through his hood. No, instead he took a seat at the nearest table and waited patiently for the barmaid to come his way.
Tenebrae resisted the urge to ask the stranger what he'd like-- bartending second nature to the Hanging Corpse's owner now. Instead, she offered the man only a brief smile, and turned back to Jabari.
Tenebrae said to Jabari, "I was only saving your pitiful puking life.." She sighed, heavily. "Don't make me wish I hadn't."
Vashun nodded and offered a pleasant smile the way of the familiar barwoman, though it quickly was turned back toward his table and dismissed.
Jabari rubs his forehead, trying to remove the sweat from his brow, however, sweaty palms smeared it more, instead of wiping it away, Jabari fidgeting nervously, "I... Didn't want this.... I am soo thirsty.... It calls to me.... But... I can't take this...."
Tenebrae drew a small flask from her pouch, handing it her janitor. "Take this. It's fresh. It'll help with the pain. And I should tell you, you have to make a choice soon."
Jabari acks, "Always a catch... There is always a catch.... Oi, why did you do this to me?" The janitor apparently having given up, absent-mindedly drinking the flask, making a motion to spit it out as soon as it hits his lips, but his lips remain pressed, not letting a drop escape as he swallows.
Vashun rose to his feet, the barmaid obviously busy, and moved to the counter to stare down at the dwarven barkeep. "Water. Fresh water. Thank you." His words were short, irritated... and even his face could not fully conceal his soured mood. Settling back into his chair, the paladin would again return to sitting in silence and watching those around him.
Tenebrae 's expression was flat. "How many times, Jabari, must I say it? You were clearly dying. You refused all healing, and the little you got was ineffective. Don't ask me again." She frowned. "There's a cure for this, as well. Highly unpleasant. Painful. But you'll live as a man. The only other option is..." Tene would draw her upper lip back, give him a flash of fang. "You know.."
Jabari nods, "Oh, I know.... I know...What's... The cure?"
Tenebrae was watching the human, in her periphery. She'd seen him about her tavern.
Tenebrae spoke simply: "Dragon blood."
Jabari made a face, the idea of blood in general was just bad, "When you give someone an ultimatum, you sure know how to make it difficult on people, don't you?"
Tenebrae remained implacable. "My ultimatums are nothing, compared to the one Death makes. I'll leave it with you, will I?"
Jabari shakes his head, "I can't take this anymore...... I... Haven't slept in the two days since you have done this to me.... I.... Need to get this over with.
Tenebrae shrugged. "That flask will ease you for a day or two, once it kicks in. Take your time. Let me know your choice after that."
Vashun glanced once more towards Tenebrae... a harsh edge to his features for only a moment. They were quickly replaced with curiosity... and eventually even a bit of mirth when his water arrived. Sipping at the glass's contents, he imagined it washing away the taint within him. Cleansing away the dark seed which grew within his chest. When the glass was empty, however, the seed remained. It always did. And now, staring through the bottom and sides of the emptied glass, all signs of fear and uncertainty were revealed in him. His face hid nothing... his stern posture kept no secret. Slouched in his chair, hands shaking... he had all he could do to keep the insane scream of hatred from becoming anything more than the low growl what escaped him.
Jabari sighs and nods to himself, shaking his head back and forth, "I am either lucky to have met you.... Or you shall be my death."
Tenebrae smiled gently. "Yes, that's the way it generally goes." The paladin's guttural growling had her turn sharp peridot eyes his way, a brow arching.
Jabari said to Tenebrae, "So I am finding out."
Vashun coughed, sending a slew of blonde curls wobbling atop his head... but the red substance which marred the corner of his lip was evidence enough that something was not right with the man. Perhaps the dark splotch of skin which the next gut-wrenching cough made visible beneath the collar of his robe. The growl subsided, as did the cough, but the man's eyes still held that same look of distress. His hand shook more violently, and quickly lowered the glass to the table.
You knew the signs of somebody battling an inner struggle-- she had her own to contend with, though not entirely conscious of all of her problem's extent. Still, the bits of it manifesting were enough. The human's expression told her all she needed to know in order to feel justified in asking him, "Excuse me, sweet... are you alright there?" Probably not her business. But then, that'd never stopped her before.
Tenebrae stared, noting the blood flecking the stranger's mouth- hardly a scent she could ignore, either. Her brow furrowed in concern, as a memory of a tavern converstaion came back to her. "Oh. dear gods..." She turned to Jabari. "Get out. Right now- get out of here."
Jabari blinks a moment, asking, "Why?" As he slowly moved towards the door.
Tenebrae canted her head toward Vashun. "Plague. Find me a healer." She paused, adding, "Vampiric. Dragon. Something not.. human."
Adena slips into the tavern with parchment in hand, heading towards the board the feline spears the paper to the board with a thorn before turning to face the tavern with a curious expression upon her visage.
Jabari exits south.
Vashun clenched his jaw... not that he wouldn't gladly have spoken. The pain was now enough that he could barely control himself. When the largest wave passed, he tried again... his voice still whisper soft... heaving breathing causing long pauses between words. "As... I said. We... were... fighting the plague... to the South." Another cough... more blood. Water... where the hell was the barmaid? "Everything... dies. There's... no cure... no stopping it. Everything... is defiled." The barmaid did eventually come refill his glass, and a deep drink was taken. "I really... really... don't want to become... one of those... things..."
Tenebrae stalked to the man, her strides hurried and long, and stretched a hand to grasp his shoulder. "Listen, you must tell me. What races were affected, again?" Letting him go, she reached for her pack, a bottle produced. Setting it to the table before Vashun, she spoke again. "We'll have to quarantine this place."
Vashun shook his head, eyes closing. "Everyone... died. Everyone died... I couldn't protect them... I couldn't save them... like I promised I would. They were... already gone when I got there. Even... Shasku. I'd... have given my life... if it meant I could have saved Shasku. Damn it. Where... is divine intervention when you need it most?" A wry laugh worked its way out his throat, eyes closing again. "... it kills everything living... it warps it. If it lives... it dies... and lives again. I've... never seen anything like it..."
Vashun struggled to his feet, still drinking deeply at his glass of water. "I... refuse... to die like this. I just need... water... and a bit of time."
Tenebrae was frantic. 'Everything', he'd said, but what did that mean, exactly? Vegetation? Animals? All life? She was hoping beyond hope it was a human disease.. "Listen.. try to focus.." Where the hell was that healer? "How long does it take to manifest? How is it spread?"
Vashun turned to face Tenebrae once again. "It... spread through tainted water... grain. Children... contracted it first... died in days. The... priesthood fell victim next... I've no idea why. We think... it's attracted to . It came in... with a group of merchants... I knew the man who led the caravan. He wasn't acting himself... I should have turned him away. Dammit..."
Tenebrae blew a sigh of relief, her warning to Vincent - whom she knew for a vampire - fading on her lips. "So, it's human-only. That's something." She thought of her tavern, a chill shivering her spine. Humans.. who'd been exposed? "We have to quarantine you, 'til we can find a cure." or you die, was the next thought. But what was that he said about.. "What did you say happened? They came back?"
Vashun nodded. "Aye... we were gathering the bodies... outside the hospitals. They... started getting back up again... and attacking the first thing they saw. Damn... festering rotwalkers. More of them than there were of us by the time we realized it."
Tenebrae paled. "Revenants. Undead.. tell me, what was the nature of their attack?"
Vashun paled too... shuddering. "I personally found Bishop Myroken... chewing off the limbs of an altar girl. They... just... attacked anything still living. By then, though... it wasn't much. I... should have turned that damn caravan away..."
Tenebrae shivered in the hearth-warmed air of the tavern, shaking her head gently. "Hells, poor man. What you must have seen... Well, we have to get this under control. Stop the infection spreading, like. So, quarantine it is." She bit her lip in thought. "I have a cage, in my cellar.. but there's a risk, it's too close to people." She blinked, eyes widening. "The prison, in Cenril. Will you come?"
Vashun shuddered again, dropping his glass of water. His hand contorted violently, wrenching a groan of pain from the paladin and dropping him to his knees. "fetch me... a blade... and I'll cut it from myself. I can... feel it... it's core. I can feel it spreading. I will... not... die like this..."
Tenebrae stood back, shaking her head and regarding Vashun warily. "We have to get you out of here! You won't help, by cutting yourself up, it's in your blood, or something. It's a disease, not a demon. Come now, to the cell.."
Tenebrae slid her eyes the way of the newcomer she heard moving though the tavern. Sidonia.. she wondered how the new-sired vampiress was doing. But was a bit occupied, just now, in preventing a plague, if that was possible.
Vashun couldn't have moved if he wanted to... his legs had already ceased functioning. In fact, most sensation in his outer extremities was failing. It was all he could do to hold himself upright. In fact, that too faltered, and the man lay face first upon the floor, writhing.
Sidonia gives Tenebrae a half-smile, the new fangs showing in the gesture. Moving inside the door, it could be seen that the girl was weak but doing well, all things considered. She needed blood-- real blood-- but bought several bottles of blood wine from the Hanging Corpse until she could find one to help her. Noting that Jolie was busy, she falls into a seat near the door and sighs, taking another sip of red liquid.
Tenebrae stepped back a little more, toward Sidonia's table. "We've got to get a pyre going, quickly, outside. A big one." Her voice'd drop, as she gestured to the dying man. "That man will need to be killed, before he dies. And burned." She didn't stop to consider that what she'd said might seem nonsensical. "Help me gather wood, outside. After I lop his head off."
Sidonia stands rather shakily, setting the wine down on the table with an impossibly pale hand. Her mouth drops open at Jolie's words, and she stammers, "Why are you going to kill him? What's... what's wrong with him?"
Tenebrae said to Sidonia, "Plague. Human plague, but the dead rise and eat flesh."
Sidonia 's eyes widen, and she quickly goes outside to gather wood. Stacking it rather haphazardly, she shouts inside the door, "And there's no cure?"
Tenebrae shouted, "Not according to him. Make the pile high."
Vashun had already ceased writhing, and indeed moving altogether. He remained that way for quite a long moment too... until he pushed himself up into a kneeling position with one hand. A large spatter of blood remained across the floor, probably marring it no worse than any other had. His other hand, however, was what might be noted. The blood had come not from his mouth, but rather the large hole which had been clawed into his own chest by his fidgeting hand. Glaring at Tenebrae, the paladin hissed in pain. "I told you... I won't... die like this." His spasming hand again moves to the wound, digging in through torn muscle and flesh and grasping firmly around something. "I... said... I can feel it. I am sworn... to uphold truth and honor... I wouldn't lie. It's... here... and I can't remove it... without a blade."
Tenebrae notes with relief that the new person entering was of elven heritage..
Tenebrae had been heading back to the sick man, sword in hand, his mercy-killing just moments away. But on his words, the wound in his chest, she'd pause. What if he was right? Hesitantly, she lowered her weapon. Reaching to an item strapped to her pack, she unsheathed it, stretching a dagger toward Vashun. Should he prove merely insane with his fever, she still had that sword...
Sidonia continues piling the wood, aided by the gift of new vampiric strength and speed. Stacking the branches and boughs higher and higher until the newborn can't reach to add more, she peers inside the tavern. The pale blue eyes become sad at the paladin's noble struggle, and something inside her aches at the idea of such a person dying in such a way.
Sevian awakes groggily from one of the many shadowed enclaves of the tavern, wiping away the vestiges of sleep with a clothe swathed hand while a rather loud yawn draws from those ashen lips. Casting his tempestuous gaze about the place, as customary, he lofts a brow at the proceedings, presumably a man, his pool of blood and Jolie. With a loft of his curious brow and shift of his seat to a perch, he asks, "Good day, madam. . Something I can do to help?"
Tenebrae didn't turn her gaze from the stricken human, while answering. "Sevian, this man has a plague, a terrible disease. If he dies, he'll rise a flesh-eater. And the disease spreads.. he must be burned."
Tenebrae heard the door open, looked-- and paled. "Leslie, run! Get out, you must run!"
Leslie glances way of the board before speaking, speech directed towards Tenebrae. "You are in need or more staff? Did you have to let people go or realize you did not have enough?"
Tenebrae stared at the human woman, horrified, hoping Leslie would not hang about to ask questions.
Leslie entered only to here speech, head snapping in that direction as she is able to let out words. "What?"
Tenebrae shouted, "Plague! Get out, woman.. human plague."
Vashun was a zealot... true... and even delusional... but he had been struggling with the growing void inside him for quite some time, now. Since before he had manifested any symptoms at all, he had felt the thing growing. Staring at the dagger, he wondered if it was truly madness. He wondered if the woman were right... if it was better he died before he could spread it to anyone else. Enough people had died because of his negligence already. Still... he took it, and wielding the thing like a medical blade began cutting away at the binds holding the strange hardened sphere in place. He'd set the weapon aside and try ripping it free again... to no avail. The dagger went back in... severing more of the ever-expanding ties. He felt the thing writhe, now, too. Definitely pain. The numbness in his legs faded... sensation returning. "It's... working. It's lodged in there... but... I can get it out. Just need... some water... and time..."
Sevian , with his interest more than piqued, rises up out of the corner and makes his way to Vashun. With swathed arms swaying, he pauses for a moment, hues flickering towards the sanguine and exposed tendons, when in a very much impassive tone, he flicks his head towards the fireplace and says, "We can always throw him in there."
Tenebrae gaped at the grisly 'operation' Vashun was performing on himself. She'd heard of no plague that had -that- as a symptom. Things were definately getting odder. To Sevian, she nodded. "If he proves wrong about that.." She pointed to Vashun's chest. "He'll burn. But the hearth.. it can't burn hot enough to consume a body quickly."
Vashun cut the last of the tendrils he could grasp, tossing the blade to the ground. Reaching in again, he wrapped his fingers firmly about the sphere and gave a titanic pull upon it. The pain was enough to nealy take him down, but the round object was now exposed to the light. Gangly tendrils followed after, the process of drawing them out earning another prolonged groan of pain. When finally it was removed, the entire thing was immediately hurled with all of his strength at the fireplace... gasping breath not allowing him to speak as he slumped against the table leg beside him.
Tenebrae 's upper lip was drawn back in utter disgust. The vampiress had seen a lot in her more than three centuries of bloody existence, but that.. took the cake. "What the hell -was- that thing?" she asked, when finally able to speak. And was that the end of the 'plague'? Time would tell..
Vashun stared at the squealing, black... thing... for quite some time. When he could speak, his exhausted voice was hardly audible. "In the name... of the Holy Divine... you are found... unworthy. My brothers... of the Hakkatonen... will know now how to kill you." It would seem he spoke to the burning entity, rather than anyone around him.
Tenebrae just stared at the man.
Vashun struggled to his feet, still bleeding profusely. His eyes met Tenebrae's for a moment, his soft smile returning. "It... feels good... to have that thing out of me. I believe... we have an answer... to whether the plage was natural or not."
Tenebrae nodded dumbly. It took her another full minute to speak. "Magical plague, then. What if it's gotten into the water here?"
Tenebrae watched the .. whatever it was pop and crackle in the fire, its bubbling mass soon reduced to ash.
Vashun glanced towards the barrels of water gathered outside the storeroom door. "I cannot tell... how far it has spread... but if it has reached the water and grain here... we'll see it manifest itself soon enough."
Leslie enters the tavern once more, a cloth tightly wrapped about her mouth and nose. She enters cautiously, hand over her mouth and nose even though the cloth is wrapped tightly, and doubled over, as to keep from anything happening. The woman speaks, her voice muffled. "Miss, I know I shouldn't be here but I can not help but try and...well help."
Vashun continued to bleed... the self-inflicted wound quite large. "I... would hate... to remove that fiend from my chest... only to die of blood loss."
Tenebrae snapped her gaze toward Leslie, frowning deeply. "You shouldn't have come back. But as it is, we think the 'plague' is dead." The stink of the black sphere still wafted on thin ribbons of smoke drifting through the air. "Still, keep your masks on. He needs help."
Parash glances at the woman wondering why she eyes him. "Am I making you nervous?"
Vashun coughed and shook his head, the slow numbness in him now from the exceptional amount of his blood which resided upon his ruined robe and the tavern floor. "Well... it seems I've become... the center of attention this morning. I try... to avoid that sort of thing usually."
Tenebrae braved a wan smile at the self-wounded man's jest. "At least it's a fame that doesn't involve you eating anybody." Parash would have her turn to him, with an apologetic look. "There was a fear of disease. It's passed now." She hoped.
Vashun nodded, that sentiment shared wholeheartedly. "It would... be a fate... too ironic even for me to appreciate. Of course... I would have been too dead to appreciate it."
Leslie said to Tenebrae, "I know, you can't blame a nurse really though. What exactly do you know to be wrong with the man?"
Tenebrae said to Leslie, "Well, apart from the fact he's dehydrated, it seems, and otherwise poorly from the illness that's been, he has that gaping hole in his chest." She'd point at it. "Listen, can you cope here, for a while? I'll leave my crow, in case I'm needed." Maladroit shuffled in the rafters, malignantly, at the mention of his name. "I just have to.. get some fresh air." In truth, the stink of the fire was making her feel nauseous.
Parash turns and exits the way he came, trying not to become overwhelmed with the sight of blood.
Tenebrae grinned. "Feeling better, pet?"
Jabari shakes slightly, spotting Tenebrae, "Why is... You are just playing games with me..."
Vashun stepped into the tavern, though this time he would not bother with concealing himself through his hood. No, instead he took a seat at the nearest table and waited patiently for the barmaid to come his way.
Tenebrae resisted the urge to ask the stranger what he'd like-- bartending second nature to the Hanging Corpse's owner now. Instead, she offered the man only a brief smile, and turned back to Jabari.
Tenebrae said to Jabari, "I was only saving your pitiful puking life.." She sighed, heavily. "Don't make me wish I hadn't."
Vashun nodded and offered a pleasant smile the way of the familiar barwoman, though it quickly was turned back toward his table and dismissed.
Jabari rubs his forehead, trying to remove the sweat from his brow, however, sweaty palms smeared it more, instead of wiping it away, Jabari fidgeting nervously, "I... Didn't want this.... I am soo thirsty.... It calls to me.... But... I can't take this...."
Tenebrae drew a small flask from her pouch, handing it her janitor. "Take this. It's fresh. It'll help with the pain. And I should tell you, you have to make a choice soon."
Jabari acks, "Always a catch... There is always a catch.... Oi, why did you do this to me?" The janitor apparently having given up, absent-mindedly drinking the flask, making a motion to spit it out as soon as it hits his lips, but his lips remain pressed, not letting a drop escape as he swallows.
Vashun rose to his feet, the barmaid obviously busy, and moved to the counter to stare down at the dwarven barkeep. "Water. Fresh water. Thank you." His words were short, irritated... and even his face could not fully conceal his soured mood. Settling back into his chair, the paladin would again return to sitting in silence and watching those around him.
Tenebrae 's expression was flat. "How many times, Jabari, must I say it? You were clearly dying. You refused all healing, and the little you got was ineffective. Don't ask me again." She frowned. "There's a cure for this, as well. Highly unpleasant. Painful. But you'll live as a man. The only other option is..." Tene would draw her upper lip back, give him a flash of fang. "You know.."
Jabari nods, "Oh, I know.... I know...What's... The cure?"
Tenebrae was watching the human, in her periphery. She'd seen him about her tavern.
Tenebrae spoke simply: "Dragon blood."
Jabari made a face, the idea of blood in general was just bad, "When you give someone an ultimatum, you sure know how to make it difficult on people, don't you?"
Tenebrae remained implacable. "My ultimatums are nothing, compared to the one Death makes. I'll leave it with you, will I?"
Jabari shakes his head, "I can't take this anymore...... I... Haven't slept in the two days since you have done this to me.... I.... Need to get this over with.
Tenebrae shrugged. "That flask will ease you for a day or two, once it kicks in. Take your time. Let me know your choice after that."
Vashun glanced once more towards Tenebrae... a harsh edge to his features for only a moment. They were quickly replaced with curiosity... and eventually even a bit of mirth when his water arrived. Sipping at the glass's contents, he imagined it washing away the taint within him. Cleansing away the dark seed which grew within his chest. When the glass was empty, however, the seed remained. It always did. And now, staring through the bottom and sides of the emptied glass, all signs of fear and uncertainty were revealed in him. His face hid nothing... his stern posture kept no secret. Slouched in his chair, hands shaking... he had all he could do to keep the insane scream of hatred from becoming anything more than the low growl what escaped him.
Jabari sighs and nods to himself, shaking his head back and forth, "I am either lucky to have met you.... Or you shall be my death."
Tenebrae smiled gently. "Yes, that's the way it generally goes." The paladin's guttural growling had her turn sharp peridot eyes his way, a brow arching.
Jabari said to Tenebrae, "So I am finding out."
Vashun coughed, sending a slew of blonde curls wobbling atop his head... but the red substance which marred the corner of his lip was evidence enough that something was not right with the man. Perhaps the dark splotch of skin which the next gut-wrenching cough made visible beneath the collar of his robe. The growl subsided, as did the cough, but the man's eyes still held that same look of distress. His hand shook more violently, and quickly lowered the glass to the table.
You knew the signs of somebody battling an inner struggle-- she had her own to contend with, though not entirely conscious of all of her problem's extent. Still, the bits of it manifesting were enough. The human's expression told her all she needed to know in order to feel justified in asking him, "Excuse me, sweet... are you alright there?" Probably not her business. But then, that'd never stopped her before.
Tenebrae stared, noting the blood flecking the stranger's mouth- hardly a scent she could ignore, either. Her brow furrowed in concern, as a memory of a tavern converstaion came back to her. "Oh. dear gods..." She turned to Jabari. "Get out. Right now- get out of here."
Jabari blinks a moment, asking, "Why?" As he slowly moved towards the door.
Tenebrae canted her head toward Vashun. "Plague. Find me a healer." She paused, adding, "Vampiric. Dragon. Something not.. human."
Adena slips into the tavern with parchment in hand, heading towards the board the feline spears the paper to the board with a thorn before turning to face the tavern with a curious expression upon her visage.
Jabari exits south.
Vashun clenched his jaw... not that he wouldn't gladly have spoken. The pain was now enough that he could barely control himself. When the largest wave passed, he tried again... his voice still whisper soft... heaving breathing causing long pauses between words. "As... I said. We... were... fighting the plague... to the South." Another cough... more blood. Water... where the hell was the barmaid? "Everything... dies. There's... no cure... no stopping it. Everything... is defiled." The barmaid did eventually come refill his glass, and a deep drink was taken. "I really... really... don't want to become... one of those... things..."
Tenebrae stalked to the man, her strides hurried and long, and stretched a hand to grasp his shoulder. "Listen, you must tell me. What races were affected, again?" Letting him go, she reached for her pack, a bottle produced. Setting it to the table before Vashun, she spoke again. "We'll have to quarantine this place."
Vashun shook his head, eyes closing. "Everyone... died. Everyone died... I couldn't protect them... I couldn't save them... like I promised I would. They were... already gone when I got there. Even... Shasku. I'd... have given my life... if it meant I could have saved Shasku. Damn it. Where... is divine intervention when you need it most?" A wry laugh worked its way out his throat, eyes closing again. "... it kills everything living... it warps it. If it lives... it dies... and lives again. I've... never seen anything like it..."
Vashun struggled to his feet, still drinking deeply at his glass of water. "I... refuse... to die like this. I just need... water... and a bit of time."
Tenebrae was frantic. 'Everything', he'd said, but what did that mean, exactly? Vegetation? Animals? All life? She was hoping beyond hope it was a human disease.. "Listen.. try to focus.." Where the hell was that healer? "How long does it take to manifest? How is it spread?"
Vashun turned to face Tenebrae once again. "It... spread through tainted water... grain. Children... contracted it first... died in days. The... priesthood fell victim next... I've no idea why. We think... it's attracted to . It came in... with a group of merchants... I knew the man who led the caravan. He wasn't acting himself... I should have turned him away. Dammit..."
Tenebrae blew a sigh of relief, her warning to Vincent - whom she knew for a vampire - fading on her lips. "So, it's human-only. That's something." She thought of her tavern, a chill shivering her spine. Humans.. who'd been exposed? "We have to quarantine you, 'til we can find a cure." or you die, was the next thought. But what was that he said about.. "What did you say happened? They came back?"
Vashun nodded. "Aye... we were gathering the bodies... outside the hospitals. They... started getting back up again... and attacking the first thing they saw. Damn... festering rotwalkers. More of them than there were of us by the time we realized it."
Tenebrae paled. "Revenants. Undead.. tell me, what was the nature of their attack?"
Vashun paled too... shuddering. "I personally found Bishop Myroken... chewing off the limbs of an altar girl. They... just... attacked anything still living. By then, though... it wasn't much. I... should have turned that damn caravan away..."
Tenebrae shivered in the hearth-warmed air of the tavern, shaking her head gently. "Hells, poor man. What you must have seen... Well, we have to get this under control. Stop the infection spreading, like. So, quarantine it is." She bit her lip in thought. "I have a cage, in my cellar.. but there's a risk, it's too close to people." She blinked, eyes widening. "The prison, in Cenril. Will you come?"
Vashun shuddered again, dropping his glass of water. His hand contorted violently, wrenching a groan of pain from the paladin and dropping him to his knees. "fetch me... a blade... and I'll cut it from myself. I can... feel it... it's core. I can feel it spreading. I will... not... die like this..."
Tenebrae stood back, shaking her head and regarding Vashun warily. "We have to get you out of here! You won't help, by cutting yourself up, it's in your blood, or something. It's a disease, not a demon. Come now, to the cell.."
Tenebrae slid her eyes the way of the newcomer she heard moving though the tavern. Sidonia.. she wondered how the new-sired vampiress was doing. But was a bit occupied, just now, in preventing a plague, if that was possible.
Vashun couldn't have moved if he wanted to... his legs had already ceased functioning. In fact, most sensation in his outer extremities was failing. It was all he could do to hold himself upright. In fact, that too faltered, and the man lay face first upon the floor, writhing.
Sidonia gives Tenebrae a half-smile, the new fangs showing in the gesture. Moving inside the door, it could be seen that the girl was weak but doing well, all things considered. She needed blood-- real blood-- but bought several bottles of blood wine from the Hanging Corpse until she could find one to help her. Noting that Jolie was busy, she falls into a seat near the door and sighs, taking another sip of red liquid.
Tenebrae stepped back a little more, toward Sidonia's table. "We've got to get a pyre going, quickly, outside. A big one." Her voice'd drop, as she gestured to the dying man. "That man will need to be killed, before he dies. And burned." She didn't stop to consider that what she'd said might seem nonsensical. "Help me gather wood, outside. After I lop his head off."
Sidonia stands rather shakily, setting the wine down on the table with an impossibly pale hand. Her mouth drops open at Jolie's words, and she stammers, "Why are you going to kill him? What's... what's wrong with him?"
Tenebrae said to Sidonia, "Plague. Human plague, but the dead rise and eat flesh."
Sidonia 's eyes widen, and she quickly goes outside to gather wood. Stacking it rather haphazardly, she shouts inside the door, "And there's no cure?"
Tenebrae shouted, "Not according to him. Make the pile high."
Vashun had already ceased writhing, and indeed moving altogether. He remained that way for quite a long moment too... until he pushed himself up into a kneeling position with one hand. A large spatter of blood remained across the floor, probably marring it no worse than any other had. His other hand, however, was what might be noted. The blood had come not from his mouth, but rather the large hole which had been clawed into his own chest by his fidgeting hand. Glaring at Tenebrae, the paladin hissed in pain. "I told you... I won't... die like this." His spasming hand again moves to the wound, digging in through torn muscle and flesh and grasping firmly around something. "I... said... I can feel it. I am sworn... to uphold truth and honor... I wouldn't lie. It's... here... and I can't remove it... without a blade."
Tenebrae notes with relief that the new person entering was of elven heritage..
Tenebrae had been heading back to the sick man, sword in hand, his mercy-killing just moments away. But on his words, the wound in his chest, she'd pause. What if he was right? Hesitantly, she lowered her weapon. Reaching to an item strapped to her pack, she unsheathed it, stretching a dagger toward Vashun. Should he prove merely insane with his fever, she still had that sword...
Sidonia continues piling the wood, aided by the gift of new vampiric strength and speed. Stacking the branches and boughs higher and higher until the newborn can't reach to add more, she peers inside the tavern. The pale blue eyes become sad at the paladin's noble struggle, and something inside her aches at the idea of such a person dying in such a way.
Sevian awakes groggily from one of the many shadowed enclaves of the tavern, wiping away the vestiges of sleep with a clothe swathed hand while a rather loud yawn draws from those ashen lips. Casting his tempestuous gaze about the place, as customary, he lofts a brow at the proceedings, presumably a man, his pool of blood and Jolie. With a loft of his curious brow and shift of his seat to a perch, he asks, "Good day, madam. . Something I can do to help?"
Tenebrae didn't turn her gaze from the stricken human, while answering. "Sevian, this man has a plague, a terrible disease. If he dies, he'll rise a flesh-eater. And the disease spreads.. he must be burned."
Tenebrae heard the door open, looked-- and paled. "Leslie, run! Get out, you must run!"
Leslie glances way of the board before speaking, speech directed towards Tenebrae. "You are in need or more staff? Did you have to let people go or realize you did not have enough?"
Tenebrae stared at the human woman, horrified, hoping Leslie would not hang about to ask questions.
Leslie entered only to here speech, head snapping in that direction as she is able to let out words. "What?"
Tenebrae shouted, "Plague! Get out, woman.. human plague."
Vashun was a zealot... true... and even delusional... but he had been struggling with the growing void inside him for quite some time, now. Since before he had manifested any symptoms at all, he had felt the thing growing. Staring at the dagger, he wondered if it was truly madness. He wondered if the woman were right... if it was better he died before he could spread it to anyone else. Enough people had died because of his negligence already. Still... he took it, and wielding the thing like a medical blade began cutting away at the binds holding the strange hardened sphere in place. He'd set the weapon aside and try ripping it free again... to no avail. The dagger went back in... severing more of the ever-expanding ties. He felt the thing writhe, now, too. Definitely pain. The numbness in his legs faded... sensation returning. "It's... working. It's lodged in there... but... I can get it out. Just need... some water... and time..."
Sevian , with his interest more than piqued, rises up out of the corner and makes his way to Vashun. With swathed arms swaying, he pauses for a moment, hues flickering towards the sanguine and exposed tendons, when in a very much impassive tone, he flicks his head towards the fireplace and says, "We can always throw him in there."
Tenebrae gaped at the grisly 'operation' Vashun was performing on himself. She'd heard of no plague that had -that- as a symptom. Things were definately getting odder. To Sevian, she nodded. "If he proves wrong about that.." She pointed to Vashun's chest. "He'll burn. But the hearth.. it can't burn hot enough to consume a body quickly."
Vashun cut the last of the tendrils he could grasp, tossing the blade to the ground. Reaching in again, he wrapped his fingers firmly about the sphere and gave a titanic pull upon it. The pain was enough to nealy take him down, but the round object was now exposed to the light. Gangly tendrils followed after, the process of drawing them out earning another prolonged groan of pain. When finally it was removed, the entire thing was immediately hurled with all of his strength at the fireplace... gasping breath not allowing him to speak as he slumped against the table leg beside him.
Tenebrae 's upper lip was drawn back in utter disgust. The vampiress had seen a lot in her more than three centuries of bloody existence, but that.. took the cake. "What the hell -was- that thing?" she asked, when finally able to speak. And was that the end of the 'plague'? Time would tell..
Vashun stared at the squealing, black... thing... for quite some time. When he could speak, his exhausted voice was hardly audible. "In the name... of the Holy Divine... you are found... unworthy. My brothers... of the Hakkatonen... will know now how to kill you." It would seem he spoke to the burning entity, rather than anyone around him.
Tenebrae just stared at the man.
Vashun struggled to his feet, still bleeding profusely. His eyes met Tenebrae's for a moment, his soft smile returning. "It... feels good... to have that thing out of me. I believe... we have an answer... to whether the plage was natural or not."
Tenebrae nodded dumbly. It took her another full minute to speak. "Magical plague, then. What if it's gotten into the water here?"
Tenebrae watched the .. whatever it was pop and crackle in the fire, its bubbling mass soon reduced to ash.
Vashun glanced towards the barrels of water gathered outside the storeroom door. "I cannot tell... how far it has spread... but if it has reached the water and grain here... we'll see it manifest itself soon enough."
Leslie enters the tavern once more, a cloth tightly wrapped about her mouth and nose. She enters cautiously, hand over her mouth and nose even though the cloth is wrapped tightly, and doubled over, as to keep from anything happening. The woman speaks, her voice muffled. "Miss, I know I shouldn't be here but I can not help but try and...well help."
Vashun continued to bleed... the self-inflicted wound quite large. "I... would hate... to remove that fiend from my chest... only to die of blood loss."
Tenebrae snapped her gaze toward Leslie, frowning deeply. "You shouldn't have come back. But as it is, we think the 'plague' is dead." The stink of the black sphere still wafted on thin ribbons of smoke drifting through the air. "Still, keep your masks on. He needs help."
Parash glances at the woman wondering why she eyes him. "Am I making you nervous?"
Vashun coughed and shook his head, the slow numbness in him now from the exceptional amount of his blood which resided upon his ruined robe and the tavern floor. "Well... it seems I've become... the center of attention this morning. I try... to avoid that sort of thing usually."
Tenebrae braved a wan smile at the self-wounded man's jest. "At least it's a fame that doesn't involve you eating anybody." Parash would have her turn to him, with an apologetic look. "There was a fear of disease. It's passed now." She hoped.
Vashun nodded, that sentiment shared wholeheartedly. "It would... be a fate... too ironic even for me to appreciate. Of course... I would have been too dead to appreciate it."
Leslie said to Tenebrae, "I know, you can't blame a nurse really though. What exactly do you know to be wrong with the man?"
Tenebrae said to Leslie, "Well, apart from the fact he's dehydrated, it seems, and otherwise poorly from the illness that's been, he has that gaping hole in his chest." She'd point at it. "Listen, can you cope here, for a while? I'll leave my crow, in case I'm needed." Maladroit shuffled in the rafters, malignantly, at the mention of his name. "I just have to.. get some fresh air." In truth, the stink of the fire was making her feel nauseous.
Parash turns and exits the way he came, trying not to become overwhelmed with the sight of blood.