A Shadow Rises In The East

With such a great many unpleasant things occuring in Alexandria, it might be easy to overlook signs of trouble elsewhere. In this case, such signs are not overlooked, as said signs seem far too relevant to the current events to be left to chance.

Still, there is not yet any verification to the rumors and whispers, thus the Vardamen have called for an exploratory excursion. Verna is present as their representative at the gathering called just outside the city gates. A moderate journey lies ahead, there is little time to waste, and, frankly, there is little information to brief all upon before departure. Which she will do so once all gather.

Elena rides along slowly, the half-elf looking tired. In the last few months, victims of the plague have been pouring in like water, mountains have imploded and let loose a horde of demons like some sort of strange egg, archdemons have been making regular appearances and wreaking having in general. And now reports of hordes of undead? The servants of the Temples of the Holy Order have been stretched to their limits. Her robes are clean, if starting to look a bit on the threadbare side, and her hair is pulled back in that same professional bun she wears when performing her official duties, the easy smile she normally wears now a thin press of lips as she focuses on the task ahead.

"You sure about this, Lysos?" A frowning khazad - is there any other kind? - waits outside the temple gates, in full pack and gear and looking more than a little uncomfortable. Asmli wears full plate, except for his right leg, which is gold-plated steel from the hip down. The work is exquisite and detailed, but plenty of room is left for further work and enhancement in its thoughtfully detailed construction. Although the armor that he wears is also of fine and sturdy make, it is of a very different style, and shows a few scrawtches despite having been recently restored and meticulously cleaned. "Ain't a short trip."

Another silent figure follows in Verna's wake, a short-statured Xian man with black hair that falls nearly to his shoulders. His dark eyes take in his companions for this trek, but he hasn't offered much - if really anything - in the way of conversation. Instead he bows in polite greeting to those that join the group, a fluid motion born of long practice and only once greetings are past does a raven alight upon his shoulder. Its own dark eyes watching with far more intelligence than one would normally give even one of those eeriely knowing birds. Karasu is clearly is not prone to conversation.

"I'm sure I'm sure," Lysos tells Asmli, not /quite/ walking behind him.. but looking like she might be ready to step there and give the dwarf some encouraging pushes if she thinks he needs it. "Look. That leg is amazing, but you need to do more." Because, yes, she is such an expert. "Okay, I don't actually know much about it, but if it's anything like learning, and exercising, you need to push it, right? So this trip.. will be good for you."

Darius was here mostly because he was pissed off at having a debt to a Demon and that said Demon having stolen the object of his affections Kira. Any potential scrap of information would be useful in finding her and so here he is.

Pelka has arrived.

"Ain't that one as is likely to give out," Asmli grumbles to Lysos. "Guess you're right," he admits after a few steps. "Ain't gonna make it back if I don't. Hope I ain't make a damn fool of myself." So far, he seems to be trundling along okay, grumbling as he goes, but the armor pieces on the left leg appear to be cinched quite tightly. He walks with just a small hitch in his stride, and in a deliberate way that matches the shininess of the right leg - it's new still.

Pelka is also outside of the city gates, and he approaches the group along one of the faint trails from the mountain to the east. "I heard there was an expedition to...well, ah, to someplace -outside- of the city." The implication being any reason to take a trip far away from the city is a good one, doesn't matter the reason or the location. "Count me in!"

Verna awaits all outside a small, single-steed carriage. A stablemaster is also present with several horses, should any require transportation. All such provided by the Vardaman Temple. Once all appear to have arrived, she greets them.

"Welcome. I am Sage Mourner Verna. This will be brief, as several days' ride lies ahead and time is rather of the essence.

"Reports of note were received from the far eastern Alexandrosian border alongside The Desolation. As these reports involve sighting of undead as well as suggest potential plague, they cannot be overlooked. We travel to a village known as Edge to investigate and confirm or deny these reports. Obviously, the events in the here and now are vile and disturbing, but the possibility that is spreads across the land is infinitely moreso. Riding horses are available for any who wish or require."

She looks over those present. "Are there any further questions before we depart?"

"You'll do fiiiiiine.." Lysos assures Asmli.. at least when others are concerned, the young tsuran woman seems to have no end of confidence. Then she falls silent when Verna starts to talk... after all, getting Asmli out on an extended mission was only part of the reason for coming out here. So she listens.. and at the end shakes her head, having no questions. Not yet, anyways.

Pelka's beak opens slightly as the lower part drops. After a few moments he snaps it shut. "No, no questions," he manages after a bit. He seems a bit less enthusiastic than he did before. "I'm ready to go."

Elena looks to Pelka, offering a nod of greeting as the egalrin joins, though most of her attention is on Verna as the updates come in. She gives a solemn nod to confirm her own understanding before looking to Asmli. "Well," she says, "on the bright side, you won't have to walk, so your leg might not be as sore. The downside is that something else may very well be by the time we arrive." She gives Lysos a pleasant smile, pointing at her hair with an approving raise of an eyebrow -- for some reason.

Karasu looks at the horses that are provided. He is silent as Verna explains the purpose behind their mission, and his expression shows nothing of his thoughts on the matter. Instead he accepts the reins of a horse and stares into its eyes as if in silent communication with the beast. The horse responds to this by gazing at him and snorting loudly. Their unspoken conversation complete Karasu looks away from the horse and awaits the order to mount up.

Darius just mounts and says, "Let's go..." He's normally more talkative than that, but not after the events of the other day.

Asmli -peers- at Elena. "Me? On -those-?" He looks -up- at the horses provided. "If I wanted to make a damned fool of myself, seems like a fine way to do it." Grumble ragglesnatz pheberkin grump. Much more grumpy than his usual good-natured self. He's almost like - your average khazad. Still, he looks among the mounts and selects the shortest of the lot, but will still need a hand into the saddle, and mounts unconventionally, so that the right leg is providing most of the power. He does, however, flash a grin at Lysos once he's astride.

Lysos's olive complexion turns a shade darker when she catches Elena's gesture. And for good measure, she runs her hands through her hair just to satisfy herself that it's doing what she told it to do earlier today. Then she gives the half-sil cleric a sheepish grin and a wave before she selects a mount for her own use and climbs aboard. Asmli gets an even broader grin, then, her eyebrows going up as if to say, 'See? Not so bad.'. Then she settles in.

Verna's hood dips as there appear to be no further questions. The stablemaster did have the foresight to bring a few examples of smaller breed, for those who may be more grand on adventure and aid than in stature. "Very well," Verna notes. "Let us away."

If it is any consolation to Asmli, the Mourner has issues of her own climbing into the carriage. This may explain why it is a carriage and not a saddle... though there are muttered comments concerning the comfort of and her taste for, or lack thereof, concerning such travel.

Thus, the journey begins. Fortunately for all, the majority is upon maintained roads, save for the final half-day into the frontier. This makes the travel as efficient as it can be, reasonably smooth, and quite uneventful.

Elena doesn't notice Lysos' change in coloration, already turning to look at Asmli as the dwarf talks about making a fool of himself on horses. "Would you ride with one of us, then?" the cleric asks, gently. "I think there room in my saddle for both of us, should you wish." And then, over to Karasu, a warmer smile, recognizing the face. "Well met, once again," she greets. "Though I'm not sure that this qualifies as better circumstances than the last time."

Pelka spends most of his time gliding along above the expedition, occasionally ranging ahead or behind. He's not a trained scout but altitude gives him a good vantage point. When he does return to the group, which is frequently, he often remarks how empty the landscape is all around them.

"Up now," Asmli tells Elena, looking down at the saddle. He is many things. He is not, however, a horseman, but he seems to manage well enough on the pony that he'd managed to sselect, a mount more appropriate to his limited stature and thick build. It's a shaggy and sturdy thing with more hair than good nature, and the two of them appear to have a amusingly adversarial relationship. Not to the point of biting or kicking, but the beast does bite him a few times because it can - that is, until he turns and sticks a gauntlet in its teeth.

The biting stops, after that.

He gradually relaxes, showing more of a jovial and easy temperament, and something of a wild one. The one sticking point appears to be that left leg - it seems to not be as strong as it should be given his build and clear martial expertise.

Karasu nods politely once again to Elena before mounting his chosen horse. He doesn't look wholly comfortable with the motion, but rather as though he's possibly only been a horse a few times in his life previously. "Greetings again. It remains to be seen yes?" It's an odd answer perhaps given the circomstances. He proves over the course of the next few days to be a quiet traveling companion. One not particularly given to conversation in the least. His few comments prove however that he is indeed listening to what others are saying, and Wuya - his raven companion - is far more friendly. In fact it's often the raven's antics that draw Karasu into conversation. Whether to apologize politely for the bird having decided that its going to do something it surely should know better than to do, or because he is following it into whatever conversation is going on.

Lysos spends her time... telling stories. She's not the most giften orator. But what she lacks in formal training she makes up for with extensive content. And livliness. Always prefacing it with something along the lines of, "I have an uncle who.." or "My old mother told me..." or some variation of such. She mostly uses it to help keep Asmli's mind off of his leg, but she shares her stories around, particularly with those she knows. Elena gets a story about how one of Lysos's great, great grandcestors tried to court the moon, only to be chased away by a great hound. Pelka gets a story about how a cousin of hers tried to fly once... which is how he ended up with the name one-armed-Owen. She swings by Karasu and Darius as well, though she interprets the latter's relative silence as a general wish to be left alone.. so she does so. As for Verna's carriage.. well, Lysos more or less avoids it for some reason, though she does end up staring at it for minutes on end at various parts of the journey.

Elena spends most of her time watching the changing of the countryside, and at camp reading her holy scriptures, or looking through her gear to ensure that she is prepared for what might come. She's sociable and easy enough to get along with, even if she often seems rather distracted. The already weary cleric seems to be even more tired by the ride, though she puts on a good face about it, the lines of worry only deepening as they approach their final destination.

Verna is available for questions, discussions, or even conversation, though she does not choose to initiate such. Her preferred means to pass the journey is reading, which may further explain the carriage. It possesses the space and stability to make such readily possible.

Just over two days later, the group arrives at ... it may not be appropriate to be dubbed a village. It is more a waystation or gathering spot, not unlike the Wilderness Pointe north of Alexandria. There are no homesteads, and the few structures consist of a trader's post, a blacksmith, and a healer's hut.

The trader's counter is opened and manned, the blacksmith is at work at the anvil, and an elderly woman sits in a chair outside of the hut. This is Edge. Of the Border? Of the Desolation? of Nowhere? Any or all may be applicable.

Pelka makes sure he is walking when the group reaches the waystation. He glances over each structure. His gaze lingers on the blacksmith, perhaps professional interest. Then he looks around at the party. "...I think we're here," he offers.

Karasu slows his horse as they near their destination, and gingerly dismounts. He has well proven over the last few days that riding a horse is unfamiliar to him and thus... it comes with certain pains. Though none of the discomfort shows on his features it shows somewhat in the careful motions of his body as he disembarks from his horse and lets his dark eyes trail over the small 'village'. "Mourner." He lifts his voice somewhat to be heard from inside Verna's carriage. "It seems we may have arrived."

"Good." Asmli's mood does appear to have been lightened by the tales as they rode, but much as yesterday, he slides carefully and with a groan of discomfort off of the pony and steadies himself before moving. Unlike yesterday, he manages to do this without falling on his rear, although the nag rewards him for this by switching its tail at him, an effect much like a whip across his armored side. He simply gives the beast a -look- that says he might be tempted to give it a kick, but laughs instead and turns to look around. "More like a sneeze than a village," he opines.

Elena pulls her horse up as well, glancing at the -- not-quite-a-village. She looks to the few sparse buildings that are there, frowning. "It seems we're too late," she says, not-very-seriously. "It appears they've already taken most everything." But she's already working on dismounting, working to secure both the mount and her gear as she waits for the others.

"Huh." Lysos tries to hide her... lack of enthusiasm at the sight of the waystation, though truly.. should she have been expecting anything different from the description they were given? She slides out of her saddle, leading her horse over to a hitch as well to secure it. "Oh, it isn't so bad," she forces herself to admit to everyone. "I mean.. consider what the night life here must be like."

"Indeed," Verna concurs as she disembarks with care. The drop to the dusty ground is a controlled one, as gravity makes egress somewhat easier than the reverse. She takes a moment to ensure all of the caravan arrived, chafed, dusty, or otherwise, as well as brush dust from her robes.

"Now, we shall begin our investi-"

"If'n yer lookin' fer Yenkins, he's in ma hut!" The crone in the chair calls out. "'N ye best be hurryin. T'weren' nothin these hands could do. Sickness'll be takin' 'im soon."

Karasu looks at the old woman, and a moment of consideration passes over his face like a cloud stealing over the moon in the dark of night. Then it is gone and he is bowing politely to her. "The Dread Lady comes for who she will, and not even the most talented of hands can stop her." He says this respectfully, turning his dark eyes on Verna. "Is this Yenkins the one that we have come to see?" He has perhaps, asked far to few questions about their actual mission, but such is what comes of being someone who keeps their own council.

"I'd say you're right," Asmli tells Elena with a bright-eyed laugh, "but where would they take it to?" He ties his reins off, loosens the girth, and turns the pony loose to graze. The question steals the mirth, though. "Seems like a good place to start, anyway." He hasn't spoken to Karasu more than about five words, but does so now, and takes a few tentative steps towards the hut.

Elena is just grabbing her pack off the horse when the old woman speaks, really before Verna has a chance to even get her question in. The cleric moves forward, retrieving a clean cloth from the bag and tying it around her face as her eyes search for the hut in question, steps already taking her in that direction.

Elena turns over her shoulder, face covered but eyes bright, answering the dwarf. "Only the gods can say for sure," she calls. "Us mortals can but speculate, I'm afraid. I only hope it's in a better place!"

"Sickness?" Pelka blurts. Then more slowly, "Um...that is, what kind of sickness?" He steps towards the hut, but rather than enter he tries to find a window he can peer through. Without going through the entrance.

Lysos decides to hang back just a little, sticking to the tail end of the group. "Not a healer," she informs with a raised hand, the other shouldering her own pack. "So I'll just stay out of your way."

Verna pauses and turns. Perhaps a portion of this will end before she even officially begins it. "If he is the one infected, yes," she then adds, as she considers the setting, "and, yes, The Dread Lady judges all when it is their time."

She begins to step for the hut, as well, noting to the others, "Given the population density, the possibility that this Yenkins is, indeed, the one we seek are inordinately high."

This may be confirmed by the crone's response to Verna. "Y'all see any -other- old farmer's lyin 'roun' dyin o' consumption after chasin' vampires outta 'is cabbages?!"

The hut is barely large enough to encompass a room with space for a doorway. Windows were not included.

"Oh great," Pelka mutters under his breath after completing a circuit around the hut and having failed to find any windows to peep into. "Now it's vampires too." He reaches for the projectile weapons slung over his back. His hand goes to the larger, artifice-laden one first. Then towards the other, that looks much more like a 'common' thunderbelcher with a few hints of artifice. Then back to the deathray. "It's hard to keep track of who's invulnerable to what," he laments. Then he unclips the deathray, hefts it to make sure he remembers the weight after days without wielding it. And finally says, "Is there room for -all- of us in that little hut? Maybe some of us should stay out here..."

Karasu nods again to the old woman, then moves to follow Elena. He moves carefully at first, but with grace toward the hut. "I know little of the healing arts myself, but death..." His voice trails off and he makes his way into the room to see what it might hold. "I will go." In fact he's already gone.

The hut is just large enough to hold a worn cot, a small stool, and a cabinet. Upon the cot lies an elderly man who looks, at first glance and even to the untrained, ill. His brow is covered in perspiration and his complexion quite pallid. He still breathes, though not easily.

There is only enough for one, perhaps two if friendly, to squeeze into the hut without sitting or stepping upon the patient. For this reason, Verna waits outside for the moment.

Elena is now in fully serious mode, looking over her shoulder to Pelka as she walks with Verna toward the hut. "If you're going to be that distracting," she tells Pelka, voice firm, "perhaps it's best if you do wait outside." Though as she looks into the hut, she turns to the others, holding the door open so they, too, can see. It seems that she's already decided thats he's one of them, stepping inside deftly, letting the others decide for themselves who else follows as she bends to examine the man.

Asmli peers inside, looking around, then shakes his head and steps out. "Don't think our healer would take kindly to me poking her in the ribs with Grosh here." He points at the handle of the double weapon across his back. "I thought vampires drank blood," he mutters to Lysos. "Since when do you find blood in a cabbage patch?"

GAME: Elena rolls Heal: (14)+10: 24

"Blood cabbages..." whispers Lysos back, then she grins. It's not that she isn't taking this seriously.. well, okay. She could be a little more serious. But it seems that actually being out and about travelling puts her in a good mood. "Sorry. I'm just amazed nothing bad has happened yet... something usually does, by now," she admits to Asmli. "Chances are it's not really vampires, I think." Not that she's an expert.

Karasu steps closer to the man, lacking any sign of fear from the illness that the man seems to have or any other fear. Instead he goes to him and allows his eyes to trace over the farmer. From the outside he didn't really realize how small the hut would be, but he easily makes space for Elena. "Do you know what ails him?" Karasu asks quietly, his fingers slipping to his side.

Elena examines the man carefully, looking up to Karasu when he enters. "Not the Alexandrian plague," she informs in a voice loud enough to carry. "And most certainly not vampires." She pauses a moment, the most barely perceptible shakes of her head noticable to the sharp-eyed as she continues, voice level. "Not that the news is overly cheerful." She's already opening her bag, taking out several small vials of herbs, along with the mortar and pestle. "He's been afflicted by Zombie Rot. Treated, he might make it. Or so we should hope," she adds, "for if the Gray Lady takes him, his corpse will shamble right back up to its feet and inflict the same malady on others." Glancing up at Karasu, and then out to the others, she asks, "I assume you've read the market stories about cities overrun with the undead from just one bite? They aren't entirely fiction."

Asmli hehs. "I wouldn't know." When the person who would know starts speaking audibly from outside. "Good, sounds like she knows. I sure don't." He shakes his head. "Zombie rot? That don't sound good, either."

Pelka swivels his head to peer at the hut at the pronouncement of 'Zombie Rot'. Then he turns towards the elder. "Zombies? Does that sound like what he was chasing off?" Pelka shakes his head slightly. "Maybe we should take a look at this cabbage patch for ourselves. Which way is it?"

"That is ...unusual," Verna offers at this news, hood dipping in a nod. It is both good news in one sense and not in others. "Can you remove the disease, Seer? The cause remains to be addressed, as well." She turns to Pelka and her hood dips anew in agreement.

The crone resident healer points a gnarled finger to the east. "Follow the trail, then the creek. Hour's walk or thereabouts."

Lysos makes a little bit of a face, sticking her tongue out briefly before checking to make sure she has her staff beside her. "I hope they can cure it. I don't think I'd want to die like that. Well, I don't want to die. But also not like that." She pushes away from the outer wall of the hut when Pelka makes the suggestion, and she adjusts her pack on her back. "Sounds like a good idea."

Elena shakes her head. "All I can do is try to treat his symptoms with the standard healing arts, and hope that he pulls through on his own. I have not yet been awarded the Mysteries of Medicament. My service to her is too short, and my understanding too limited." She takes a cool cloth and lays it on his forehead, already attempting to prepare the herbs.

Karasu catches Elena's eyes and for a moment a flicker of something like embarassment floating through his black eyes. His hand falls away from his side and he bows his head respectfully to her. "If you can heal him..." But her words suggest that she can not and Karasu falls silent, brooding. "If you can not heal him... then he will die. I must ask - if he dies from the illness he will become an abomination. Will the same hold true if he dies by other means? And... How quickly will the transformation to a creature of undeath be?"

Verna's hood turns to Karasu and she holds up a gloved hand. "You question, and the option I presume you to suggest, are valid, should it be warranted. However, I do not believe it so as of yet. I can, under The Lady's Watchful Eye, take the sickness from him, but it will take time to prepare to do so. If the Seer believes that he is strong enough, I can tend to it after we address the source, lest others become afflicted." She then turns to Elena.

"Yeah." Asmli looks off in the direction the crone points. "I ain't know nothing about this stuff, and I ain't much use standin' around here. Let's go check out this cabbage patch." He hefts his pack, shifting it on his back, and seems quite ready to go.

Elena prepares a simple tonic as the others speak, helping him to drink it. "He has some time in this world yet. His spirit is strong, and his body hardy enough. He'll see another sunrise, at least. Maybe several." SHe stands, looking down at the sleeping man with a sad smile, though she glances up to Verna and Karasu. "Let's hope that he'll see many more, if the gods are merciful." She starts to pack up her things, stepping outside as she pulls the cloth from her face, taking a breath of fresh air, away from the smells of sweat and sickness, nodding her agreement to the others about discovering the source. "The sooner we can get this contained, the better." Though she unhooks the shining silver mace-thing from her belt, reaching for a vial of water from her bag and seemingly preparing something.

Karasu nods. It is enough that the man will live for now, perhaps longer if Verna's words can be held as true. "The Dread Lady takes where and where she will. I will remain here with this man in case she comes for him before you predict. That he might find the mercy of death rather than spread his illness to others." Karasu's voice is soft and certain. "I wish you a quick journey."

Lysos gestures grandly in the direction pointed out to them by the old crone, the trail... she squints at it. "I suppose you can call that a trial..." When it seems like everyone is on board save for Karasu, she starts leading the way. Perhaps eager to be away from the sick fellow inside the hut. She uses her quarterstaff like a walking stick, occasionally knocking small stones out of the way. "So.. is he going to be okay?" She asks. She heard the evaluations earier.. but maybe now, away from the other people of the waystation, there might be a bit more information forthcoming.

"Let us make haste, then," Verna dips to Karasu, then she turns to follow Lysos. Verna is no pathfinder.

Fortunately, there proves to be no need of one. Not to locate the homestead of Old Man Yenkins, that is.

The trail is not broad, but routinely travelled, perhaps over generations. It leads to and parallels the stream referenced, until they arrive at a cottage. A cottage with a large garden. A garden that appears predominantly cabbages.

Or so it did at one time. They, too, appear casualties, and were not as strong-willed as their caretaker. Rather than eaten, they look to be trampled carelessly, with others crushed. There may well have been a struggle. One was indicated by the healer, though some presumptions already proved incorrect.

Asmli is visibly limping by the time they reach the cabbage patch, but once he can stand still and put his weight on the artifice leg, he crosses his arms, surveying the place, then looks over at Lysos. "Cabbages put up quite a fight, looks like. Don't see any zombies, though."

Elena walks along, surveying the scene, answering Lysos. "We can but pray. His fate is in the hands of the gods," she answers, though there is real hope in her voice -- and no small amount of fear. But she looks over the land, shaking her head. "So much waste, in a place that already has so little. We should see what we can find -- and if anything can be salvaged. If we heal him of sickness only for him to die of starvation come winter..."

GAME: Elena rolls Perception: (12)+6: 18

GAME: Asmli rolls survival: (20)+5: 25

"So... uh... with all respect... I'm not sure I would trust eating any of this," Lysos says somewhat guardedly. She gets close enough to prod at one of the cabbage casualties with her staff, almost as if expecting it to explode. Or start walking around. "I'll admit.. the last time I was in a garden in the middle of nowhere, the plants there had a particuarly aggressive form of diplomacy.." More careful words. "But if that man back there is going to turn into a zombie.. what's to say that it isn't in the plants, here?"

GAME: Asmli rolls perception: (3)+3: 6

While the others poke around the cabbages, Asmli starts into the soft dirt, putting one foot carefully in front of the other. He seems to be utterly ignoring the cabbages - unless it's an emePelka turns his head to look at Verna again. "YOU'RE a necromancer? But you always seemed so...so you."

Now really doesn't seem like the time to say anything, but Asmli shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably, and looks over at Lysos with wide eyes. Then back to Verna, with even wider eyes. "That's why you ain't look at Yenkins," he drawls.

Elena looks around at her companions, shaking hear head as she looks at Verna sympathetically. "Necromancy is not inherently evil. It can be used for great good," she tells the others. "It is how the magic, the disciplines, are used that matter. Whether they are used to corrupt and befoul," with a pointed glance at Verna's mother, "or in the ways of the Vardamans, ensuring that death is respected." She glances to Verna again, offering the woman a small smile, though her eyes eventually move back to Varyssa. "I suppose it's no secret that we disagree with your -- business practices."

Lysos opens her mouth to say something, raising a finger as if to make a point, or perhaps to point at someone. But her gaze moves from Verna to her mother. Back to Verna. Back to her mother. Then to Asmli. To whom she shrugs, spreading her arms and raising her palms as if to ask, 'what the stars...'

Verna looks to her gloved hand as it starts to rise towards her face again, as if she must will it to stop. She exhales a sigh. "I specialize in Necromantic magic, yes. Just as an Enchantment specialist is termed an Enchanter, so am would be termed a Necromancer. -However-, this is not the same as the common term for ..." she turns to eye Varyssa " one who desecrates the remains of the fallen by empowering them into unholy abominations."

Verna finally convinces her hand to lower to her side, albeit clenched in a fist. "Nor did I take up the business of procuring, training, and selling slaves. Much to my mother's dismay."

Speaking of, Lady Varyssa rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "Not all children grow as parents wish, despite our best efforts, my dear."

Verna turns to look at Asmli, scowling. "I am -also- a priestess of Vardama. I can, and will, treat him." Lastly, she exhales another sigh, nodding to Elena. "Thank you, Seer."

For answer, Asmli folds his arms across his chest. "I ain't get involved in magic if I don't have to, an' I ain't gonna tell you your business. So, one of your -things- got into that farmer's cabbage patch?" Now he directs a frank stare at Varyssa.

Pelka also turns his attention on Varyssa. But only for a moment. He spares quick glances at the Oruch and the other Mul, trying to keep track of what they do. He watches the hill where the zombie was led off. The feathers on the back of his neck and he turns his head slowy to look behind the party as well.

Lysos listens to the talk of zombies being used as.... tools. She can't suppress a shudder. And a grimace, like she has a bad taste in her mouth. "But.. Asmli has the right of it. One of them did get away.. and now we have a fellow sick and dying because of it. Seems like that might be something you need to address, Lady Varyssa.."

GAME: Elena rolls Diplomacy: (6)+8: 14

Elena watches the proceedings carefully, contemplative. "Well, I mean, it would just be good business practice," she says, following up on Lysos's comment. "Now that it's clear where this particular -- stock comes from, tracking them would be little trouble, and others are on their way, the last I checked. A lucrative enterprise only stays lucrative so long as the overhead remains reasonable. Given general attitudes, however," she adds, "it would be unwise to continue relying on this source of labor. It would upset the locals, resulting in potential losses, and investing even more resources would be counterproductive at this point. Best to take what has already been earned, and invest in something that won't cause as much commotion, yes? There are spells that can move and sort large quantities of resources in very little time, much faster than even these creatures, resulting in much larger gains. As you surely know," she offers, glancing at Varyssa once more, the suggested course of action on the table now -- with the subtle implication that it might come to pass exactly like that, were -someone- to say something to the right people.

"Yes," Varyssa nods to Asmli, "and it was promptly retrieved. I am prepared to compensate the owner for any crop damage." At the mention of the fellow and his condition, she pauses to consider. "Ah, I see. How tragic. In that case, I am further prepared to compensate the family for the loss... with an additional bonus if they wish to sell the remains."

"No," Verna interjects, looking between her mother and Lysos adamantly. "I will see to it that he recovers." She pauses and attempts to unclench her fists.

She listens to Elena's suggestion, as does Varyssa. When she begins to rebutt, however, and for once, Verna manages to get in the first words. "We resolved the mystery that was laid before us. I believe that it is time that we depart. A debate on efficient business practices with my mother could span decades."

Pelka turns to face forward again. He looks at the other party members and then lowers his deathray. He seems to have a sudden thought and glances quickly between Verna, and Lady Varyssa. "That sounds like a good idea," he says in a small voice.

Asmli's arms do not unfold as he stares at the woman, then at her companions, then back to her. "Yeah. We got what we came for. Let's get out of here." Before he does something inadvisable. He turns around and starts back in the direction of the tracks, with no further comment.

Lysos holds up her hands, palms forward, in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay! I agree! We're done here. Mystery solved. No new impending plague or invasion.." Lysos even takes a step back. "Still. I agree with Seer Elena. Because this is also kind of gross. And the smell."

Elena seems like she's about to say more on the subject, but Verna interjects. It takes a second of debate, but eventually the Seer nods to the Vardaman, deferring to her. "You are the expert in these matters," she says, though whether referring to the undead or her mother, or both? That's anyone's guess.

The return trip to Edge may well seem longer, thought obviously the distance is the same. The silence, at least from Verna, may add to this. Naught transpired as she expected nor intended, certainly.

Upon their return, she does remain for some time to beseech Vardama for the proper curative spells to treat Yenkins and utilizes them to do so. Whether others wish to remain for this or rush to return to Alexandria, Verna does not judge them for their preference. She does wish all, whether alongside or separate, a safe journey. Verna also expects that some may have questions, concerns, or comments, and acknowledges this, but asks that they seek her out after she returns to the city. She despises the travel, afterall, and her mood is hardly its best before she even sets foot in the carriage.

Asmli waits around for Verna and to see the man put back together, but hangs back, staying out of the way. Indeed, he spends a lot of time seated either on the grass, or somewhere else if it's available, stretching out his left leg, which seems to be bothering him a good bit.

Elena, of course, stays to help where she can, attending to the ill man while Verna prepares -- and offering Asmli what relief she can offer. There may be questions later, but for now, she seems content to offer what aid she can, sometimes glancing darkly in the direction of the trail, clearly unhappy with events not far away -- but taking no action as of now.

Lysos spends the entire trip trying to figure out how to apologize for the shadow elf comment. A few times she even considers asking someone's advice on it.. but each time she approaches one of her companions, she ends up changing her mind. Likely she keeps losing her nerve. It just makes her more and more miserable as the journey home goes, though she does at least put out effort in commenting to Asmli on how well things seem to have went for his leg. "All good fun, right?" she keeps telling him. In the end, by the time they reach the city, all she can do is offer Verna a quick apology.

Pelka seems to be a bit subdued for the trip back. He casts many thoughtful looks at the carriage where Verna rides. When he's on his forays into the air he spends more time behind the party and sometimes on the flanks. And he seems to fly quite a bit higher than he did before on the trip -to- the Desolation. Once they are within sight of the city he makes his goodbyes and then takes flight again, this time for the Spire.