Session 4b
Session 04b (Narrative Intermission)
Road to Port Maraisa
After a day of hard travel and the violence of Grottio’s, capture a proper rest is in order. The members of Sling Company draw the slaver’s wagon to a clear glade with a gentle stream near the road. It is an ideal place to make camp for the night, and judging by the tracks and fire-pits left behind they are not the first travelers to find comfort here.
The night air is warm and clear, and the first scent of fall is in the air. A campfire and a bubbling pot of fresh-caught game, foraged vegetables, and Kira’s uncanny ability to find delicious herbs yields a fine and filling dinner. Bikke, expectedly, breaks out the ale and Barrick finds a fine bottle of Luskan rum among Grottio’s supplies. Good food and drink and the satisfaction of having put an end to the slavers sets a merry mood where the work ahead feels safely distant. With only a bit of prompting from Hugh and a token, performative refusal, Gavin shares the first few verses of a song he’s been composing about the company’s exploits. Surprising only Gavin, it prominently features the breadth of Rowan’s chest.
Grottio’s complaints are fully silenced by the padded wagon, and he is nearly forgotten until Bikke mentions the bastard should be fed at least enough to keep him alive forMagistrato Falcone’s judgement. Kira prepares him a small plate and it is pushed through a narrow door on the wagon built for that very purpose.
Despite the long day, sleep is fitful as each member of Sling suffers stomach cramps and nausea through the night, coupled with a cold sweat. Though it’s surely the familiar sickness of bad food - which all soldiers know well–intrusive thoughts of the rotting disease play on their fears.
Kira wakes first with a sense of misgiving, immediately followed by the foul stink of shit and vomit. The odor and noise of retching bring everyone to their feet. Bikke is sick, writhing in pain, with his dinner, drinks, and perhaps very soul flowing out both ends. Kira snaps instructions to the party and sets about tending to him. He is fevered, slick with oily sweat, and passes in and out of miserable consciousness. The road is no place for his convalescence, and after some discussion it’s decided to lash Grottio’s hands and make him walk so that Bikke can make use of the wagon for the return to Port Maraisa.
Setting this plan in motion reveals the day’s second shock - Grottio’s stiff, dead body. The smell alone is enough to tell the tale; he suffered the same sickness as Bikke and drowned in his own vomit. Any thrashing or call for help was silently absorbed by the confines of his slave wagon.
Bikke alternates between delirium and comatose sleep for the trip back to Port Maraisa. There the party learns Magistrato Falcone’s complacency ends at disease. He is sympathetic, concerned, and completely unwilling to risk the panic of a sick traveler being seen in the city. Arrangements are made, and in short order Dander once again ferries the party to the south shore where the Lazaretto can aid Bikke’s recovery.
The Lazaretto
Mother Verduna proves herself to be an excellent healer - kind, gentle, knowledgeable, and fully capable of marshalling the Lazaretto to his aid. She and her nurse, Sister Nightsong, quarantine Bikke in the Lazaretto’s clinic where he will be tended to and kept safe from pests and the threat of further disease. She tends to him as the party waits and frets, emerging in the evening with her verdict. He is stable, he will recover, but he is very weak and will need time. Given the risk of the Rotting Disease, and uncertainty about its spread, Bikke must be kept isolated for his own safety. She hopes that will be measured in days, not weeks, but it is ultimately his fortitude and Ilmater’s grace that will decide.
With Bikke stable, and the party already gathered on the southern shore, the decision to proceed to Bad Doric is an obvious one. Mother Verduna presses Lepett to lead the party through the swamp to its eastern edge and to the foothills of the Omlarandin Mountains.
Road to Bad Doric
On the road that final morning of travel, Barrick approaches Kira and tells her that he had some strange dreams last night. When he woke, he noted that a network of thin, green roots had grown out of the mucky soil and curled around his fingers. Those weren’t there when he went to sleep. The roots themselves are young and though Barrick can’t identify the plant specifically, they look native to the swamp. Fresh and bright green, perhaps a vine. He shows a sample to Kira to see if she’s seem them before or if she knows anything about them
Gavin: Oh crap Barrick has the ick. 😨
Barrick also waves over Lepett and asks him as well about the roots
Lepett gives Gavin an unkind look at his comment about the sick, but focuses his attention on the roots. “Common [[swamp ivy]]. It’s harmless.”
When Gavin jokes about Barrick getting the Rotting Disease, Barrick says, “I don’t feel any worse than I did yesterday when we were all getting over that stomach bug. I feel better in fact.”
Barrick asks Lepett, “does common [[swamp ivy]] grow around your fingers while you sleep? Is that normal? It can shroud a corpse in a few days time, but I’ve not measured it on the living.” He doesn’t seem particularly interested - perhaps the subject is mundane, the pain of traveling too distracting, or the apathy of the swamp is working on him. Hard to say.
Kira: “The stomach bug was minor. Bikke’s just being overly dramatic. I assume he made himself ill in an attempt to bed one of the sick in the Lazoretto.” Looking at the roots Barrick pointed to, “I’m surprised by how fast this [[Swamp Ivy]] is growing. The skin is cracked. It hasn’t had time to adjust for its increased rate of growth.” She looks at Lepett. “I’m surprised you don’t find it interesting that this grew as much as it did in only one night.”
“Something is affecting how fast it’s growing. Unfortunately I’m unsure what that thing is.”
Hugh: “Strange. I was sleeping near Barrick, but the ivy didn’t grow over me,” he says. Then he chuckles to hide his anxiety and claps Barrick on the shoulder, “Frideric always said you’d grow moss if you didn’t show a little more hustle. Guess he was right!”
Barrick shares the good natured chuckle and refocuses on the road ahead.