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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 5, 2021 19:12:40 GMT
Ceutinde nodded. "I'll receive him in my office. Please take him there." She finished her drink and headed for the office herself, where she sat down behind her desk and fixed a nice slightly-angry expression on her face.
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 5, 2021 19:29:16 GMT
A minute after she settled in a middle aged man entered, clad in a dirty white tunic and with black trousers. “Ma’am,” he said politely, “I’m Brother Ishmael. I thank you for the inconvenience I’ve imposed upon your evening but this matter couldn’t wait.” He apparently was a blunt man; little of a vicar’s rhetorical flair displayed itself in his words.
“A few hours ago a dozen villagers arrived at my temple, afflicted by some illness I’ve never seen before. My healers applied the usual potions and spells, and for an hour or so they felt some measure of relief, but within another two hours ten of them had perished. One of the two survivors is in a coma that I suspect he’ll never awaken from, and the last is a child who can’t be right yet.” He shook his head. “I had hoped you may have some insight I lack into the matter.”
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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 5, 2021 19:44:43 GMT
Ceutinde leaned forward, her brow wrinkled. She opted to follow him and go with bluntness. "What symptoms, other than the coma? Where is your temple? What village did they come from?"
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 5, 2021 20:13:26 GMT
The priest shook his head. “They said they were from Plover’s Cliff. I had to look it up, it’s apparently a fishing village near the border of the storm giant’s mountains. The villagers had chills and their skin was tinted a strange shade of ...almost blue, no appetites, they must have lost twenty pounds coming all this way. I quarantined them of course. When they died...their organs had a strange consistency to them, and their blood had already begun congealinging inside their veins. I’ve never seen anything like it. I worship at the House of Mythan by the West gate.”
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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 6, 2021 18:07:02 GMT
"Dreadful." Ceutinde rose from her seat and made her way to one of the bookshelves in the office, pulling down a few tomes on various diseases and their symptoms. As she cracked one open, she asked, "The survivors - could they be moved? My own facilities here are best suited for observation and treatment."
(Medical 70 to figure out what the disease is)
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 6, 2021 18:45:45 GMT
“I believe I can get them here, ma’am,” the priest said respectfully. “Wo hom the hour.” He watched Ceutinde flip through her book. There are diseases that match symptoms for the mysterious affliction, but none combine the effects he described to any understandable degree.
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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 6, 2021 18:55:09 GMT
"Hm. Doesn't make sense." She looked up from the books, annoyed. "I'll send a carriage to collect them, then." She tugged on a pulley for a bell and passed on the order to the servant that responded. "Could be a combination of things, could be something new...Gods help us, in any case."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 6, 2021 19:09:40 GMT
Brother Ishmael nodded. “I hope they remain on our side,” he agreed. “Thank you so much for your assistance. No one knows more about this than you. If there’s anything we can offer to assist you please don’t he so state to ask.” He rose and bowed.
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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 6, 2021 19:15:25 GMT
She answered with a curtsy. "Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Brother. If they can be saved, we will do it. I know not everyone approves of my enterprise, but you made the right choice."
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Post by The Forgotten God on Feb 6, 2021 19:27:27 GMT
The priest nodded. “We all have our own paths in life,” he said. “I’ll have them here as soon as I can,” he turned and departed.
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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 6, 2021 20:15:12 GMT
Ceutinde returned to the party, though she did not pour a new drink and concern knit her brow. She gave instructions to be fetched when the invalids arrived, and did her best to enjoy herself in the meantime, walking back up to the ladies she'd been talking with.
"Terribly sorry for that, everyone. Urgent matter that I'll likely have to get back to before long. Bit of sickness at one of the temples, the victims should be on their way here. So unfortunately, Thalia, I'll have to keep a clear head for the immediate future."
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Post by Silvia Raizer on Feb 6, 2021 20:36:39 GMT
Silvia returned from the bathrooms in time to hear Ceutinde's announcement (she had been delayed by a minor epiphany regarding some new song lyrics that she had been mulling over for the past week). So she listened to Ceutinde in case there was likely to be an interesting tale in the offing.
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Post by Tehol Nookington on Feb 6, 2021 20:51:04 GMT
Cyntheria pecks Tehol on the head enough to wake him from his peaceful nap, grumbling slightly he looks at the faery dragon as it's thoughts permeate the haze of his still slumbering head. "I'm sure they have enough healing abilities between themselves to take care of this illness. But i'm sure we can help if they need any." He says with a half-annoyed sigh.
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Post by Justine-Juliette de Vair on Feb 6, 2021 20:52:45 GMT
Justine frowned. She’d seen epidemics spread through the hospital. The conditions hadn’t exactly been conducive to staying well. “Do you think they’ll be curable? Is it catching?”
She put down her drink, not really feeling so merry anymore.
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Post by Ceutinde on Feb 6, 2021 20:55:56 GMT
Ceutinde shook her head. "I don't know yet. The symptoms don't match up with anything I'm familiar with. Apparently it was a group that came from a fishing village west of here. Most didn't make it."
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