So Many Oozes, So Little Time

At length, dinner arrives for the guests of the arcanist's guild. It is simple fare, but reasonable, and Seldan seems quite content to allow Malik and Carissa to eat without requiring anything for himself just yet. The latter is only just starting to stir as the group settles in, Seldan offering the second stool in Malik's cube to Verna and seeming content to lean against the wall for now.

Verna was reading when Seldan first spoke to her; hardly unusual, as she is most always doing so. The wait for the meal is a perfect time to continue, albeit now with more narrowed focus in light of their very recent discussion. She departs briefly to return with a short stack of rather large tomes; a bit of light pre-, inter-, and/or post- dinner reading. None are magical, nor cover topics such as 'How to Escape an Anti-magical Prison.'

Thus, she is perusing and studying, leafing pages and scanning between tomes when their repast arrives. The stool is put to good use for this, and, like Seldan, she does not immediately claim food for herself.

Nalik has made himself comfortable on the little bad that the cell holds, leaning against the stone wall with a knee pulled up to his chest. When Verna arrives with the books, he offers a nod to one of the titles. "I've read that one," he tells her. "The man is brilliant. His theories are sound, and he's willing to push the boundaries and take risks for the sake of discovery, which I approve of. It's kind of a shame that he sounds like such a pompous ass in writing. But I think that you'll find a few good ideas in there. Conjuration magics were never my specialty."

He picks at his food carefully, eating slowly, turning his attention to Seldan. "I don't expect that you would tell me if she had, but -- the fae woman hasn't made another move against you, has she?" Clearly a thing that is on Mal's mind.

"What?" Seldan looks up at the question as it grabs his attention, and shakes his head, smiling. "No. Nothing since. It is my hope that having her prisoner torn from her grasp makes her think carefully ere she moves against me again, and I mean not to give her the time to do so." He pushes that lock of hair from his eyes, then peers over at the cell next door. "Mourner, did you wish to speak to Mal regarding what we spoke of earlier?" he asks quietly, really little more than a murmur. "I would ask her help with our home, but ... once this is seen through."

Verna's eyes may be focused upon the writing, yet her ears, slightly pointed as they are, function quite well, "I would, but a moment, please..." She shifts her focus to another tome completely for a few moments.

Her focus does eventually rise, and she plucks a morsel of bread for herself, consuming it before inquiring, "What aid does your home require? As well," she looks to Malik, "what can you share of Eclavdran and his movements or motivations here?"

Malik nods to Seldan, then sits up a bit straighter at Verna's question, lips pressing together a bit more tightly. "I think he means to prevent travelling spells from functioning, and possibly setting up some manner of ward. I know such things are possible, but I'm not sure that I've studied them sufficiently to present much outside of a general concept. Something tied to a certain resonance, or perhaps frequency." And then, tensing a bit, he offers, "I'm afraid I can offer very little information that may help you in your endeavor to stop Eclavdran." And then, over to Seldan, "but while confined to a prison, I suspect there would be very little I could do to stop someone else from doing so." A subtle hint, perhaps.

Seldan blinks, then nods, as if understanding the subtle hint. "Mourner, the tale is in truth his to tell, so I did not speak of it above, but if he will not tell, then I would have you know." The paladin's eyes drift, not to Malik's eyes, but to his neck, all trace of smile fading. "Eclavdran roams beneath the city, within the sewers. The whole of the sewer plan is patterned as a summoning circle, doubtless engineered by her in distant centuries. She is immortal, and bends time to her whim, so this fact is not so farfetched as it may seem. She certainly knows this, and summons the demon to her whim through its use. The demon openly states, and I do not doubt his ability to do so, murder anyone who ventures into the sewers, and has the ability to see through magical camouflage, including the spell of true seeing."

His gaze goes to Verna now, and there is warning within it. "She may summon him at will, anywhere within Alexandria. Among my chief concerns in storming her tower is the possibility that she will loose him upon the city while we are gone."

Verna considers this, eyes following Seldan's briefly to Malik. She regards him a moment, nods, and returns her attention to Seldan. "Are you certain that the circle is her work? I have an alternate hypothesis which may offer some insight into related events and abides other previous observations. I have come to realize that many of Eclavdran's actions are atypical for one of his kind and station, and have been so for some time."

"I am absolutely certain that the circle is Salina's work," Malik says. So he can't comment on Eclavdran. But nothing prevents him from commenting on Salina, it seems. "I had time to study it intimately. Every intersection, what materials it is made out of. Even the rune pattern it draws, strange as it seems. I understand exactly how it was constructed, and how it is used." The statement is matter of fact, but the words chosen are careful.

Torn between the two, Seldan blinks at them both, gaze going between them. "I would hear both of your thoughts. Does that understanding grant you any insight into her work, and how it may be undone? And if it is not hers, then whose might it be?" He does afford Malik a very small smile that suggests understanding of something unspoken. "I had noted in my previous encounters with him that his behavior is atypical for a demon of his station, especially in that he has been known to affix Salina's mark to those he cures."

Verna's brows arch as she turns to Malik. "I would very much wish to learn of its construction and use. The more known of her works, the better we can strive to undo them." She pauses a moment before expouding. "He purportedly has great interest in our plane, and our existence; far more than a fiend, much less a lord among them, would have cause. Whether this is due to his own whims, or those forced upon him, I cannot say. Such activities span centuries, leaving his duchy in comparative squalor in Hell. Though, as you noted, she can bend time to her whim and is immortal, so may have bound him long ago.

"He possesses a rather large cult of devoted mortal followers, by all accounts. My thought was that they had spent months or years under the city, in attempt to pull against her control. I do know, as fact, that, if the circle is how he travels, its reach extends miles beyond the city. We were far into the wilds when he appeared to us, likely at her whim."

Malik considers the words. "I can tell you... that the summoning circle running under Alexandria most certainly does not extend miles beyond the city. It covers almost the entire city, though possibly not quite all of it." Given that it's Salina's work, in his mind, it's safe enough to talk about. "I cannot ... say more on its use. But he made it very clear that -no- mortal was to go into the sewers. And from what I saw, his wishes had been respected to that point."

"The use of it seems plain enough," Seldan remarks, still looking between them. "I would not think it possible to use such a thing without venturing into the sewers, though, a risky undertaking. Perhaps she has more than one circle? When first we ventured into the tower, a summoning circle existed on the ground floor of the tower. Perhaps it is no longer there, but it most certainly once was so. There can be no doubt, for I saw it with my own eyes." His gaze rests on Malik. "You will not remember this, but it was so."

Verna nods. "Then it seems his cult is not present there, unless..." She taps her chin with one gloved finger several times, then looks to Seldan. "I may have an alternative we may wish to consider, though it may be best discussed elsewhere." Her eyes return to Malik and Carissa. "So that we do not interrupt their meal."

"Yes," Malik agrees. "It seems I find many gaps in my memory lately." He leans back against the stone wall. "It's a primary reason that I started writing everything down. Not that I didn't keep extensive notes before. But in recent days, it's felt especially important." He gives Verna a nod, something of an understanding passing between them at that, offering her a smile. "I am feeling -mighty- hungry."

Seldan straightens, nodding. "I should seek my own dinner, and I would not trouble the guards to partake of yours. Shall we find dinner and converse elsewhere, Mourner? I would drop my Her holy Temple as well." He strides over to Malik and drops a quick kiss on the top of his head, then turns to exit the cell, gesturing Verna to follow.

Verna nods, rising. "Enjoy your meal and, again, inform me of any needs or concerns for either of you." She then moves to follow Seldan to his choice of conversation destination.

Seldan waits until they are out of the dungeons altogether, and he has resumed all of that armor and gear, and walking out of the Arcanist's Guild. "He is under the terms of a deal with Eclavdran, made to save his life when Eclavdran caught him in the sewers." Concern, discomfort, and dislike settle onto his features. "He may not speak or work against Eclavdran directly, but he is telling me that his notes should have information that will help you. I have removed those to Her Holy Temple, that a thief seeking coin not find such magic as he researches."

Verna nods. "I presumed that there was some ...limitation, given his depth of knowledge yet hesitancy to be forthcoming. Eclavdran is well-known, I discovered, at bargaining for favors from mortals. One more oddity, but one to an end, I must expect. Given that and his cult, he may well seek deification of some form."

"That ... would fit with what I have seen of him thus far." What Seldan has seen to make him think that, he does not say, but he continues walking, slowing his pace courteously to match hers. "Think you that he believes Salina capable of granting it, or that he means to use her to gain it?"

"Such is possible," Verna admits, "though, from what I am aware, his relationship to her is servile, but also adversarial. This suggests to me that he serves her less than willingly. She may have bound him to her service, but he does not appear to relish it. His apparent eagerness to bargain could be the weakness she exploited."

Verna pauses a moment before offering, "The other possibility, I believe, based upon her actions, is that she used his associations against him. She holds interesting in Cryosanthia, and then took her mate." She glances to Seldan. "Likewise, she holds you of interest, and held your mother, then appeared to turn her eyes to Malik. Do you think this coincidence, or intent?"

"There can be no doubt that it is by intent," Seldan says immediately and without hesitation. "It is then in your mind that she holds Eclavdran in thrall, by the terms of a deal possibly, and by force where needed. Were he to be freed of the terms of that deal, think you that he would turn on her? Perhaps is it possible to ask him what the terms of that deal are?" He clearly thinks quickly as he talks.

"By terms of a deal, or perhaps hostage," Verna nods. "There is one who leads his cult that he appears to favor far more and far longer than a fiend would tend to do so. Perhaps, by some chance, his centuries dealing with mortals and our custom or law have somehow affected him... and she holds his consort against him? If she does not, she would be a wealth of information, and possibly more easily retained than the duke, himself."

"Maraiel?" Seldan sounds surprised, but the name comes easily to him. "Would you venture such a thing?"

"You know of her," Verna notes the obvious. "It is an option to consider, at the least, and it does not preclude more direct action. We do not know her curernt disposition or activities. Scrying is possible, but would require a likeness or effigy. There is mention of statuettes, but they would be in possession of cult members."

"The town of Maridran ... as it chooses to call itself." Seldan and Verna are talking in low tones as they approach the Temple District, their pace that of the shorter Mourner. The Silver Guard wears simple shirt and trousers beneath an open-front robe, the entire affair loose and comfortable, the holy symbol of Eluna prominently hanging around his neck. "I know not whether the town yet lies bare, but the last I had heard, all of its people had vanished. Perhaps in that town might be found the means to do such a thing, would you do so."

"I see," Verna nods and makes note of that information. "Whether I do so, or when, may be contingent on what is contained in the notes mentioned."

Halani is sitting cross-legged outside of the Dreamer's Temple with her eyes closed and her hands resting palm-down on her knees. Her breathing is even, measured, though it carries a certain raspiness to it. Not quite a wheeze, but definitely a mild case of a partially obstructed airway.

"Even so. I hold them within my belongings, for I would not have a thief break in while we are gone and find such things, and though Mal be a man of many talents, runes of protection are not his gift. I doubt he uses them at all." Seldan's expression takes on a fond smile. "Of us, I am far and away the better evoker, and the better abjurist, although his skill with illusions and with transmutation far outstrips me." He and Verna are walking, at Verna's pace, across the Temple District, in the direction of the Temple of Eluna.

Pelka steps out of the Temple of Daeus. Or he steps halfway out, that is. He turns slightly to one side and cants his head back, and to one side to look up at the sky. The he twitches his head to it's normal angle looking forward, followed immediately by another twitch to look at the ceiling of the temple. After blinking a few times he turns and emerges fully from the temple, and into the plaza.

Verna may be substantially less vertically-gifted than most, she moves along at a moderate clip with Seldan. Given the length of her volumous robes and penchant for hovering tomes, one may wonder if she, herself, floats along without need, use, or presence of legs. "I find most evocations too inefficient, and illusions too unreliable, for my own tastes. I understand, and am now most grateful for, your precautions with his belongings." She may take passing note of others, but is quite focused upon the topic at hand.

The people present in the plaza get a brief, polite nod from Seldan, and even a brief smile. Certainly he looks more relaxed, if more focused, than he has in previous days. "Mal says that my magic looks to him as a wizard three hundred years ago." He chuckles and shrugs. "He may theorize all he wishes, but the practice is eminently sufficient. Perhaps it is strange to some, and yet can I not explain why it makes sense to me to do so in that way."

Pelka is drifting aimlessly in the direction of the fountain. He returns Seldan's nod and then nods to the person walking alongside. Then he does a double-take. "Verna," he says slowly. "...how are you."

Halani proves to be, in fact, not asleep as her head tilts, maybe picking up on the voice of the man she's been waiting for. Her eyes open then sweep about the plaza to confirm what she heard, and it's not too hard to pick Seldan out among those milling along. It would be easy enough otherwise, but his two companions make it even easier. So she nods to herself, then unfolds and rises, giving her red-raw nose a swipe with her arm before she starts walking towards him, and thus Verna and Pelka as well. "There are many means to manipulate mana," Verna notes, rather familiar with varying disciplines and methodologies, herself. "That they differ does not make one method superior to another." Her eyes pan to Pelka at the greeting and she returns it with a nod, slowing. "I am as well as can be expected. Yourself?"

Seeing Verna distracted by the greeting of another, Seldan turns, but inclines his head at Halani. "Halani," he greets, studying her critically and with some concern. "It is good to see you out and about." The Myrrish-accented words are clear and focused, and just a little bit driven.

Halani regards the trio from slightly sunken eyes, then closes them, puts one hand in her other fist in front of her chest, then bows her head for a second over the gesture before releasing it. "This.." She turns her head to clear her throat, blocking it with her arm. Then she takes a deep breath. "I am still kicking, as people here like to say," Halani agrees, and even smiles a little bit. "Almost wish I was dead, though. I was looking for you, Seldan.. but you probably guessed that, yeah?"

Verna is turned from Pelka's greeting followup and to Halani at her comment. "That is not a state one should take lightly, much less wish for."

"With due respect," Halani dips her chin again, though only a fraction of what she did before, "maybe you haven't had this sickness, yeah? And I'm not taking it lightly. Been dead before... there's a peace there. But I got better." She rubs her forehead when she says this, though there's no mark there. Her eyes drift back to Seldan. "You told me you didn't want anyone carrying this plague around after I told you... well..." Halani takes a few slow breaths. "If you have time, ser, I'm ready to stop carrying it."

"I'm well," Pelka replies to Verna. "As can be expected," he adds and then looks at Halani. When she mentions being dead he can't help but cast a quick glance at Verna and then back. "You...you have the plague?" He sounds mystified. But then he goes on at a normal volume. "But you can be cured!" He looks at Seldan. "She can be cured, right?" he says in a much lower voice.

Seldan nods, understanding of what is needed dawning over his bearing. "Yes, it can be done, although it is no easy task. I will attempt it, as far as my strength may hold, although I do not promise that I will be successful. This will not be pleasant for you, Halani, and perhaps we should seek somewhere more isolated to make the attempt, for should I fail, it will make you ill. Knowing that ... would you have me do what I may for you?" His gaze is steady on hers.

"I have not, though I am very familiar with its effects, and some of its source," Verna returns the nod. "I only intended to note that there are more beneficial options, such as treatment." She then defers to Seldan as the one more experienced with such treatment.

This time Halani dips with her whole body.. some sort of mishmash of Myrrish courtly etiquette with.. well, with something else. "This one will follow your lead, Ser Knight. And if it is a chance of getting rid of this state... I'll suffer whatever I have to." When she rises she has to give her nose another wipe, then she grins slightly at Pelka. "I don't recommend it, to be honest. Unless you really want to hate being conscious." As for Verna's clarification, Halani falls silent, rubbing at the back of her shoulder as if reminded about something, then she shrugs. "It's why I'm here."

"I was infected with the plague," Pelka says in a small voice. "It was a while back. Maybe it was even a, I don't know, a lighter strain. But still not pleasant. Getting cured wasn't very pleasant either. I didn't know there was anyone in the city who could do it." His eyes roll to Seldan and then back. "That's good that you can do it. It's, ah, fitting."

"Very well." Seldan draws a deep breath in, as if to settle himself, but Pelka's comment draws a blink, a measure of confusion. "Would only that I had known it a season past." then looks over at Verna. "Mourner, ere I attempt this, I would ensure that you have that which you need. Halani, I owe the Mourner something, which is in my cell. If you will forgive me, I shall return directly, and we shall begin."

He takes off at a quick jog towards the temple, returning in good order with a pair of tomes, which he offers to the Mourner. "You may need to decipher them, and I would have them returned unharmed."

"I do not envy either of you, Verna notes to Halani and Pelka as Seldan departs momentarily, "but I am pleased to know that you were cured, or shall soon be. Far too many are afflicted and far too many of those have passed through our care to The Lady's Hall."

Halani waits patiently. Not that she really has much choice if she truly intends to go through with this, but she doesn't display any overt signs of impatience. But neither does she have much else to say, though she does tilt her head in acknowledgement to Pelka's experience. She doesn't ask how he got rid of it.. perhaps because she knows that some such methods are best not spoken of. And Verna.. well, for Verna she offers a small smile. "Apologies, Mourner, if I sounded.. um.. testy." When Seldan returns, however, the patience seems to melt from her as she straightens. "Where do you want to do this?" she asks plainly.

Pelka edges back, the impression is almost like he's giving up the floor to the others. He never takes his eyes off of the proceedings though, and one taloned hand opens and closes while the other folds as if pinching something stylus-shaped.

Verna also defers, carefully stowing the tomes. "If I can assist in any way, Silverguard, I am at your disposal."

"Not here, certainly." Seldan's eyes go from Halani to Pelka as he edges back. Something in the egalrin's body language gives him whatever information he was asking for. "Very well. You may help me best by crushing an ooze, should one appear. Have you any suitable weapons?" He seems to think for several breaths, then leads whoever wishes to follow around the back of Eluna's temple, away from prying eyes, and on the way ducks into a small side door, holding up a hand that they should wait. He returns momentarily with an empty bucket, and this he sets down in the grass, praying over it to conjure water into it. "Should you be ill, I would have you do your best to get it into the bucket," he tells Halani. "You may wish to sit."

Halani folds down easily into a cross-legged seated position once again, putting her hands on her knees as well. She keeps her eyes open, however, watching Seldan, nodding as he gives his intructions.

Verna offered to assist and so she shall. She accompanies Seldan to the lee of the temple, noting, "I do not expect so, unless my charming wit could be considered such. I have no intention to blugeon any possible animated mana-formed mucosal monstrosities with a tome."

Pelka follows around to the back of the temple. He looks at Verna and then nods towards the corner of the building. Taking a few steps from the wall, he looks around and then nods. Easy access to the sky, a wide path to run. This should do. Next he unclips a thunderbelcher from the back of his armor. He twists off a protective cap on the front of a long spyglass-like scope and a similar cap from the end, and quickly peers through it, angling it until he can see the bucket centered. Then he places the stock against his shoulder and lowers the barrel of the rifle to point at the ground. He rolls his shoulders once and then settles in to watch and potentially fire if any ooze is to emerge.

"Then you may have the use of mine." Without hesitation, Seldan removes the heavy mace at his right hip from his weapon belt and hands it to Verna, handle-first. Once she takes it, he turns his attention to Halani, eyes resting on her for the space of a breath or two before he drops them to the grass at his face, closes his eyes, and takes several deep breaths, steadying and centering himself with the help of murmured rote prayers. Gradually, he stills, and raises a hand, tracing several sigils side by side in the air. To those versed in magic, the method is very, very old, but an effective one. He speaks an arcane phrase to it, and the sigils he just drew burst into violet fire before him. He speaks one final words, of negation, of reversal, and draws a slash through all the sigils at once, much like a sword slash. They at once turn back, and -reverse-, pulling at the magic within Halani.

GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+13: (1)+13: 14 (EPIC FAIL)

Halani just blinks at Seldan for a moment. As if she's waiting, watching him for some sign. The sign comes, alright. Suddenly her stomach gurgles. Then again, and she convulses slightly. Foolishly, she fights it, like giving in would be admitting defeat... but for her, there's no defeating this particular foe and in short she's falling forward on her hands, face over the bucket as her entire body gets into the process of purging her insides. A gagging, coughing, choking hybrid of a sound ensues as ooze gets vomitted into the bucket.

Verna is... marginally prepared for negative outcome, or so she believed. She takes at least a step rearward at the wretching. While she has not personally witnessed this, she has witnessed a rather distressing engulfment from the engulfee's perspective.

Pelka's feathers stand up just a little. He raises his rifle and sights at the bucket again, finger on the trigger. But he hesitates. Halani and Seldan are so close, and he's never been entire comfortable firing into a crowd. Lowering the rifle and shifting to hold it with one hand, he suddenly flaps his wings and launches himself towards the bucket. A large wrench appears in his hand, one that no doubt originated as a pipe-like construction implement but has since had it's grip wrapped in layers of padded tape and some sort of heavy casing mounted over the head to give it more mass and therefore more momentum when swung. It appears at just the right time - namely as Pelka's flight takes him above the ooze, and he smashes the wrench down as he passes to pound the ooze inside with the force of a giant's club.

Halani isn't... finished. Even as Pelka prepares to give the goblin end his wrench to the ooze as Halani 'births' it, she keeps convulsing. More ooze, more than should seem possible to fit in a small woman's stomach spews forth. As if she can't expell it fast enough, more ooze starts leaking from her nose, from the corners of her eyes. The monk would probably be screaming if there was any breath.. and any room in her throat... for such. As it is, the 'hyurk' sounds are probably unsettling enough. It's a wonder Halani has managed to keep herself on her hands and knees rather than collapsing outright.

Similarly, Seldan staggers as the magic in the spell goes awry, but his head quickly snaps up and he drops to a ready stance, even as Pelka's wrench comes into play and an ince pick of pure evil lances itself from temple to temple. Uh-oh. Verna's got his mace. Frantically, he looks around for a tree branch of sufficient size with which to defend himself and take the resulting ooze out.

Verna is holding his mace, but she has no illusions that she can wield it better than he. "Silverguard! Here!" She offers it to him, tossing if need be.

The ooze itself is quickly boiling outwards from the woman it was birthed from. It moves with surprising speed toward the nearest person - namely Pelka who was so convieniently trying to bash it in with his weapon. One quick wiggling motion from the ooze has Pelka enveloped in the black sludge. Wet sucking noises echo in the small room, alongside the sound of Halani being overwhelmingly sick.

GAME: Pelka rolls fort: (18)+10: 28

"Why does this keep happening to me?" comes a muffled squawk from inside the ooze. Pelka thrashes and tries to swing his titan wrench.

Halani's arms do finally give out as she collapses beside the bucket.. not that the bucket is serving much purpose anymore. She still convulses, though now in shorter, more spaced out jerks as her body tries to make sure it has expunge every trace of the spawned ooze.. and anything else that was in there with it.

Seldan doesn't hesitate, grabbing the mace from Verna, even as he grimaces as the stab of pain such abrupt movement produces. Too late, Pelka is in there! He plunges his free hand into the heart of the ooze, looking for something of the egalrin that he can grab and pull free.

Verna was recently asked to make educated observations on the ooze and formulated some strong conclusions. Now she has the opportunity to put one theory to the test: namely its consumption of mana and possible instincts to follow its sustenance. She utters a quick incantation, forming mana, and a portion of her life-force, into a hovering, ghostly hand. One that she can control and is, of course, not physically attached to her person. While not as tasty as pieces of Rees, perhaps it might be enough to draw it away? To where, precisely... she has yet to determine. ' The ooze quivers in place and then scoots closer to Verna's spectral hand. With a gross wobble and stretch it reaches out and lobs its form over the spell as if it were a person that could be consumed. The spell fizzles out immediately, seemingly consumed by the ooze and the ooze itself... grows. Expanding rapidly as it feeds on the magic that Verna cast.

Pelka spreads his wings and then flaps them, trying to get bits of ooze off. His wrench is nowhere to be seen. Whipping his wings doesn't work as intented but he manages to lift slightly into the air, and deems himself high enough to raise his thunderbelcher and fire into the midst of the ooze.

Halani staggers to her feet, looking almost drunk. Certainly light headed. As she does she wipes at her mouth with her arm, scraping at least some of the drool and bile and ooze remnants from her lips. Then her lips curl into a snarl and she steps forward, putting everything she has behind her punch as she drives it into the wobbly mass.

"Mourner, do -not- use magic with this!" Seldan fairly shouts as the thing grows bigger still, and shifts his grip on the mace, laying into it with multiple quick strikes. No magic, no prayer, just several good, hard, well-placed blows. It is quite plainly obvious that he is accustomed to dealing with these things, for it splatters messily all over the grass, himself, and anyone unfortunately enough to be within range. His clothes are a -wreck-, or appear to be so.

Mace still in hand, he raises the free one to his temple. "The fault for that was mine," he tells her, wincing. "Are you able to continue?"

Halani just... stands there. Now covered in the ooze that was spawned inside her own stomach. Her eye twitches a few times.. then she just falls to her bottom and breathes for a few moments. Eventually, though, she nods to Seldan. "Please.." she says hoarsely. "Get it out of me."

Verna scowls. Not at Seldan, but at her own misjudgement of the creature's reaction time. "My intent was to lure it from victims, not feed it. Apparently, it held a differing opinion on the matter. Regardless, I will not attempt that again." She looks to the others, in turn, appraisingly, though does not go so far as to ask if all are well. Watch System: Malik has disconnected.

Pelka's breathing slows to normal. It takes a while. "I think we're getting the hang of this," he admits. Then he moves back out of splatter range. Although at this point he admits to himself it's becuase he likes the running start, and not because he is planning to stay away from any ooze sightings.

Seldan's hair is now slicked back with grayish-block goo, and he blinks a couple of times, but simply nods. "Would that such experience were unnecessary," he nods to Pelka. Verna gets a simpler nod. "Arm with what you may," he tells her. "The greater the spell, the more it will feed. I shall ... begin again." Again, he closes his eyes and draws several deep breaths to steady and center himself. This time, it takes a little longer to center, but when he looks up, he casts the same spell again, in the same way. Again with the violet fire, again with the negation and reversal of the sigils, again the same target.

GAME: Seldan casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 13 DC: 19
GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+13: (15)+13: 28

Again, Halani just stares at Seldan expectantly... then her throat constricts and her stomach lurches. She aims for the bucket again, though after the mess the last ooze made it might serve little purpose. At least this time it all comes out with one heave.

Pelka blinks and then peers at the bucket, trying to see inside. Is it water? More ooze? Or just regular human vomit? And how ironic that of the three options, the ooze would be the only unwelcome outcome.

Verna readies a more suitable weapon, this time. It is not quite as bulky as a club, though neither is she as bulky as most others. Thus, the Tindertwig must suffice. It's an ooze that Halani vomits, but only a small one, and this time, Seldan is prepared. It's nowhere near the size of the previous one, just a baby really, and the paladin wastes no time in dispatching it. When he is done, the grass is such a mess already that it is impossible to tell that such a tiny thing once existed, and he turns back to her, setting himself and his expression both. Again the deep breaths to center himself, again the spell, so oddly cast, and yet it seems to work for him.

Well, mostly, anyway.

GAME: Seldan casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 13 DC: 19
GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+13: (14)+13: 27

Again Seldan tries it, but the result is the same, and the last one, he botches entirely, shaking his head slowly and rubbing at his temple, the mace hanging from one hand at his side. "Forgive me, Halani. I ... that is all I have." He lowers his eyes. "I will attempt again on the morrow, but for now..."

Verna eyes Seldan. "You did well, and made every effort." She considers noting that she could have offered more aid than, for example, warming his mace for him, had she more details on his methoed of treatment prior. Instead, however, she merely offers, "I hold a few equivalents prepared."

She does not fair much better against the resilient regurgitations, however. Not until her final effort is spent, if just out of sheer counter-stubborness, might there be some success? The third-no, sixth-no, eighth time is the charm?

By the time the castings are done, Halani, while no stranger to physical hardship, is little more than a quivering mess on the ground. Exploded slimes are littered all around her. She'd been sure to insist that the cure attempts keep coming while she still had sense to do so.. by the end she's doing her best impression of a worst-case fever victim. At least, until the final one. The last attempt Verna makes seems to at last bring some peace to the islander... the breathing comes smoother, the twitching ceases. Though at this point Halani is mostly unresponsive, she seems at least to be existing a little bit easier.

"Is it done...?" Pelka seems amazed. "How do you feel Halani?" He examines her for a moment and then says, "Ah, I am guessing tired. You could use some rest." He looks at the others. "You all could."

Seldan, who had stepped back with a nod to let Verna try, spent the time watching Halani closely, and swiftly dispatching oozes. Only on the last one does he nod, letting out a breath. "Mourner, I think that has done it." With a wince, he drops down to one knee next to her, touching the back of his free hand to her face, listening to her breathing. "You should rest," he tells her quietly, blinking his eyes hard, then closing them.

"I believe that we all could use some rest," Verna notes, not winded, per se, but drained somewhat, herself. "That was far more strenuous than I would wish upon any," the last added as she looks to Halani. "Would either or both of you allow, I can, at the least, assist in reaching a suitable place to do so."

Halani's lips move fractionally. A person might be forgiven for thinking they're just some sort of reflex, but the sharp of hearing would instead make out a faintly whispered, "thank.. you.." Otherwise, she does not move. Looks like the islander monk might just be perfectly happy remaining where she is. The grass is so soft, after all.

Seldan shakes his head, gathering Halani into his arms. With a distinct effort, he pushes himself to his feet, the monk in his arms, and nods to Verna. "I will see her to the healers, and then seek my own meditations and rest. "It is not easy, and the spell must be well-placed, that it get all of it at once." He shifts her just a bit, then adds with lowered eyes. "I have had the spell go awry as that once before, and the last patient to whom it happened went berserk and attacked me."

He nods then to Pelka, looking him over as well. "Thank you both, very much, for your help. Do not delay in cleaning your gear, for the ooze is acid and will damage it if it is left on." His eyes are on the egalrin's wings. "I fear that you have quite the cleaning job ahead of you."

Pelka nods. "Don't I know it," he remarks, but most of his attention is still on Halani. "Well, I this was certainly educational." He spreads his wings and then lifts off. "I'll see you all later. Stay safe everyone!"