[Open Adventure] A Gift for the Queen

[Erasmus]

Erasmus was a fish out of water, and he couldn’t help but worry this strange unidentified sickness might perhaps still be contagiously roaming the air. He was far too occupied with his current obsession of ‘finding himself;’ therefore, should he be weakened by an illness, he would lose valuable time due to recovery. If he died, he wouldn’t really have to worry about it… unless his restless spirit became a ghost instead. With his luck, that’s probably exactly what would happen. Draping Vorador’s arm around his shoulder to better support the older male’s weight, Erasmus, without thinking twice, also plucked the basket from the ground that had once held the little toys for symenestra children. He set the basket decisively into Vorador’s hand, just in case the poor man really was about to vomit. Better in the basket than on Erasmus’s only set of good clothing. His dark red eyes avoided the now unclothed queen out of respect. Besides, he wasn’t a doctor; he wouldn’t be able to help with any sort of diagnosis. His brow narrowed, and he patted his new buddy on the back. “Well, who gifted her with the veil?” He asked in a quizzical, hushed voice. It was more of a mumble really, as if he wasn’t quite sure how idiotic he might sound. He gave Vorador a reassuring smile, genuinely praying the man wouldn’t suddenly die in his arms. Ha, what a day wrecker That would be.

OOC: I wanted to post just in case this thread still has a possible heartbeat! =)

[Poison]

Fortunately Vorador didn’t seem to have any interest in dying just yet. He was sick, his eyes hurt, his stomach hurt, he was dizzy, and truth to be told he just wanted to lie down somewhere and pass out for a while, but unlike Selaria’s his life didn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. With Erasmus now helping him, he even managed to stay upright.

He accepted the basket from the other Symenestra, looking a little confused. What was he supposed to do with it? His stomach answered the question. He looked very uncomfortable for a moment as he tried to force his mouth to stay closed, and then he just vomitted right into the basket. Erasmus could immediately notice a sour, severely unpleasant smell.

As Erasmus patted him on the back, Vorador coughed. „I don’t have any idea“, he answered and cast a worried glance at Selaria who was still being treated. „I don’t know the man. I think he was one of the silkworm breeders. Selaria seemed to at least have seen him before, but she found it a little strange that he was giving her a gift …“ He looked at Erasmus, still holding onto him for support. „Do you … do you think he could have poisoned her? Why would anybody poison her? She is just a girl and has never done anything wrong!“

While the attempts to save Selaria’s life continued, a man neared the gathering hall and forced his way through the crowd. He seemed nearly in panick, but he was still too far from Erasmus and the others to be noticed …

OOCErasmus, since nobody else seems to be interested in the thread anymore, I’ll continue it with you alone so that you can find out who poisoned Selaria and why!

[Erasmus]

Erasmus didn’t know whether to laugh or take the question of his sick ‘patent’ seriously. The younger man honestly had no idea why fate had brought him here. In his mind he himself was quite useless. In every scenario he could offer only so much before his meager fountain of knowledge ran dry. Surly he didn’t look like a symenestra who held any sort of answers, right? On second thought, he probably seemed perfectly normal to these people. Well, he was normal, normal on the outside, nothing to distinguish him from any other able-bodied symenestra. So suppose he knew anything useful about poisons, or reasons why someone would poison a young innocent girl, or anything else he could offer in this situation besides becoming a living crutch, he’d be obliged to share it. He had, indeed, asked a question that might lead to and support such horrendous accusations. These festivities were proving to be more than he had anticipated. The odor in the air was repulsive, and the many wide-eyed people making up a useless crowd graded at his tolerance. Could they not be doing something better? By now he’d be safely out of the way, hours away, had not this sea of citizens lobbed him into the epitome of chaos. With a glance to the ‘Symenestra Ocean,’ he decided to keep his voice down and not draw attention to his little party of two. Erasmus slightly shrugged. “Well, I’m kind of... ‘New’ to Kalinor. I’m not really accustomed to all its happenings. But I’m sure there are many reasons of which to poison anyone in the world. I cannot think of a ‘good’ and ‘practical’ rationale, in this case especially. Nevertheless, in any case when one arrives to murder, it is extremely seldom the slayer will ever have a lucid excuse, no? Perhaps it was nothing personal. This is a rather large gathering… perfect for getting a message across? There’s been some fights today, some ill-tempered guests, or so I’ve noticed.” He reminded himself that the young moth queen was currently still alive; therefore it was not a ‘murder.’ Not yet. “The possibilities are endless though, so it seems.” Another thought struck him. “Does she have a brother? Or… well, any family for that matter?” If she did, he would expect them to be rushing in by now. Selaria had seemed like such a pretty and pleasant specimen. Surly she belonged to someone other than Vorador and the team of devoted healers. Because someone Erasmus had met the first day of his arrival back to Kalinor could possibly be the brother of Selaria, Erasmus also held on to an inkling of sorrow. In an awry perspective, it would be nice to see the fellow again… but under such circumstances Erasmus clearly hoped that wasn’t the case. Because Erasmus was too preoccupied with imagining ways and reasons a person might do such a thing as this, and due to his location, he didn’t notice the parting of the crowd a long ways off as someone hurried to get away. Instead, with his brow dented in contemplation, he looked around to spy a chair or something else that would make the ailing man more comfortable.

OOC: Thanks Poison!

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

The proffered water was impatiently taken and more was asked for. Duvalyon tilted the girl's head up and instructed her to drink some water, swish it around, then spit it out. A common treatment if something poisonous was recently eaten. After this exercise, she could sip the water slowly. Considering the crowd and his motley gathering of assistants, Duvalyon chose to narrate his diagnosis lest they misunderstand and botch his efforts. "A mutual onset this suddenly is either a perfectly tandem manifestation of an illness," a rarer notion, "Or a shared external taint." Duvalyon briefly glanced to the swooning Vorador and watched calmly as he vomited into a basket. The medic's expression didn't alter in the slightest, but he made a sloping "hm" sound. "Considering the pair of them have been together all day and no one else shares the symptoms…" His nose twitched, not entirely immune to odor despite his eras at the Purging, "… And that noxious smell, they ought to be treated for poison." When Erasmus asked about the veil, Duvalyon's interest piqued. That smelled of foul play not spoilt food. As a medic, Duvalyon had been trained to entertain the most logical possibilities first. Nine patients out of ten, suffered from common ailments. He didn't wander into the fantastic until reason compelled him to. That was the realm of grandmothers and healers. But he didn't want to fail for lack of creativity. Duvalyon poured some of the water over her scalp and brow, washing where the veil once sat. He was going to need more water between the moth and the queen.

[Poison]

As Erasmus started talking about „murder“, Vorador’s eyes widened, and he looked even paler that before if that was at all possible. „Do you … do you think she’s going to die?“ he asked, hoping that Erasmus would say no, that he would reassure him, comfort him. „A message …“ he murmurred, and then he shook his head. „But why?“ He nodded as Erasmus said that the possibilities were endless. He didn’t even have the smallest idea as to who had done this to her.

„She has a brother. Demyan“, Vorador replied. „He works as a guard at the gate. He was supposed to join us. He should be here by now …“ He looked around, but the young guard was nowhere to be seen. „And a mother.“ He pointed an older, grey haired woman that tried to force her way to the crowd, towards the unconscious Selaria. The people that were still standing there complained at first, but upon recognizing her, they let her pass.

Not paying attention to Duvalyon’s attempts to save her daughter, the woman knelt down besides her and tried to wrap her arms around her lifeless body. Meanwhile the gathered Symenestra watched Duvalyon with the utmost attention. Some even went as far as trying to give him helpful advice. „Coal“, somebody suggested. „You need to feed her coal.“ „No, you should just make her vomit.“, somebody else said. „She needs crushed moth wings and spider legs. My mother always gave me crushed moth wings and spider legs, and I’m nearly seventy now!“ an old woman insisted and glared at anybody who dared to argue with her.

One of the few truly helpful people handed Duvalyon more water.

And then a scream rang through the gathering hall. „The Rose Cavern!“ a voice called out. „There’s something happening at the Rose Cavern. The silkworms …“

[Erasmus]

Erasmus, when questioned by Vorador, reassuringly shook his head in variance. “No, no,” from the corner of his eye, he watched Duvalyon instruct Selaria to drink. “Mind you, I’m not a physician, or... anyone useful, in all truthfulness. You shouldn’t take my impractical words to heart, and you shouldn’t worry. She is still alive, my friend, and everyone is doing the upmost best they can to keep her that way. I should have warned you about my overactive imagination… I was simply thinking aloud. I don’t catch myself doing it often, but my apologies are sincere in that I didn’t mean to frighten you, not any more than you already are. I do hope it’s just some spoiled cuisine that’s not agreeing with you two. After all, the stomach can be our largest weakness.” His smile was weak, but he attempted to contribute a little optimism in the man’s mind. Anyone with common sense knew, perturbing the ill only made their regressive physical condition decline ever more quickly. Erasmus silently rebuked himself for speaking so liberally. He listened to Vorador answer his question about the Moth Queen’s family without interruption. “How unfortunate,” he whispered with a frown. He didn’t recognize this guard’s name, however. His friend had been ‘Avadon,’ if he remembered correctly. Though he made certain his distasteful emotions couldn’t be detected, he was exceptionally pleased with this news. Gazing at the mother pushing through the herd, he noticed the increasing participation amongst the bystanders. This concluded that he was, in the shadow of insensitivity, blameworthy. He had labeled the people’s initial astonishment as a sign of uselessness and refusal to cooperate, when really it was just a mutual reaction. These symenestra had probably witnessed Selaria grow up before their very eyes, they had an excuse to go numb for a few seconds… it would be the expected response for any gathering such as this, no? And the community of Kalinor was so interwoven, everybody connected with one another in some way… he felt pity for them all. He wished he could‘ve been as disturbed as they were. Erasmus supposed it just wasn’t in him… in his thinking, if the situation didn’t directly affect his own self, then it wasn’t worth a second thought. He took in Duvalyon’s words attentively, moving Vorador closer in case the man needed to treat him as well. It seemed as though this holiday welcomed confusion with open arms, embracing the uncertainty of its celebrators without the least bit hesitation. The Rose Cavern? The silkworms? What more could happen! The cave ceiling is collapsing down upon us, the surrogates have escaped with deadly weapons, the creatures are crawling up from the depths of our trash to eat us alive! Perhaps, thought he, this question was better left unspoken… as things could be much worse. He waited to hear more, but the voice trailed off abruptly, leaving suspense to hang mockingly in the air. What was messing around with the balance of Kalinor? It was the first holiday he would remember; couldn’t fate have allowed him the enjoyment of his first traditional holiday? Was that too much to ask? He didn’t feel the satisfaction of being on the right track with the veil accusation, but his thoughts had already connected the silkworm breeder to the veil to the rose caverns. In a calm manor, he asked with a level tone, “Where do you think this thought-to-be-a silkworm breeder would have gone, after giving her the gift? Did you see him leave, Mr. Vorador?”

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

The role of medic was a difficult one when faced with uncertainty. You had the responsibility of care and were asked to perform god-like miracles without god-like knowledge. The chorus of suggestions threatened to rattle his demeanor, but Duvalyon made a swift decision to let them join the inarticulate clamor. Further complicating matters, the young woman's mother had thrown her arms around his patient. He couldn't do much if her mother was intent on smothering her. Duvalyon briefly let his mind flicker to a place of understanding. It was her child, the dearest thing she possessed. This was the only sympathetic thought he allowed. When in an attitude of physician he was more golem than Symenestra. A broken heart fractured one's judgment and turned nimble hands sloppy. Duvalyon was imperfect, but he was never sloppy. "Mother," an honorific he gave all mothers, "Please move. You may hold her hand, but I need access to the patient." It was a clear, firm command. He'd prefer the quiet and tools the Purging offered, but had best make do. Luckily, Erasmus was wrangling Vorador and plucking at him for information. One less concern to soot the air. Another scream heightened the chaos, drawing attention to the Rose Cavern. Duvalyon was partially relieved. It could be a disaster, but at least it was a distraction able to draw attention away from him. "If you want to be useful," he crisply told the mother, "Clean her skin with water." In the meanwhile he had one risky option to glean what had happened. Silakrov could be hampered by her limited consciousness and the pollution to her blood, but the patient wasn't talking. "Think of your morning," he told the girl, though he feared the instruction fell to pieces in her ears. Duvalyon didn't bother asking. He used his claw to draw a speck of blood, and performed the brief ritual of his gnosis. A clue might be tangled in there somewhere.

[Poison]

Vorador nodded curtly as Erasmus explained that he had an overactive imagination, although it didn’t really comfort him. His gaze was firmly focused on Selaria again who hadn’t said a single word or even moved for a while. His fists were clenched. As Erasmus moved him closer to Duvalyon, Vorador didn’t protest at all. He wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening to himself at the moment. He was mostly worried about her.

As he heard the scream, he turned around abruptly though. So did most of the other Symenestra that were still in the Gathering Hall, leaving Duvalyon a little more room. A man stood there, in the entrance. He looked exhausted, as if he had been running. One of the people that stood nearby rushed to his side. The man always repeated the same thing. There was something wrong with the moths …

„Do you … do you think …“ Vorador wondered. His eyes were wide as if he had just realized something. „Do you think this has something to do with Selaria as well?“ A moment passed as he considered Erasmus‘ question. „If he were a normal silkworm breeder, he would probably go to the Rose Cavern. Or maybe to the Weft and Warp“, he decided. „No, I didn’t see him leave. We were all here. I only saw him go out of the door, but I don’t know where he went!“

~~

Selaria’s mother looked at Duvalyon as if she didn’t understand a thing, as if he were speaking a foreign language. Her arms were still firmly wrapped around the girl, but a moment later she reluctantly withdrew so that he could continue his treatment. Once more water had been brought, she took a handkerchief and began to clean her child, occasionally casting a glance at Duvalyon as she did so to see what he was doing.

As Duvalyon tasted Selaria’s blood, everything around him disappeared for a moment. Gone was the unconscious girl, gone was her mother, gone were Erasmus and all the others that were in the Gathering Hall. For a moment all he could feel was excitement, Selaria’s excitement as she realized that she had been chosen as Moth Queen. And then there was confusion, then again surprise. The girl’s feelings were nearly overwhelming.

There was the face of a man, a Symenestra, but not one that had been born in Kalinor. He didn’t belong to any of the known Webs. There was something slightly off about him. Duvalyon could briefly see a package, then there was overwhelming nausea, and then surprise again, and then the girl’s feelings changed so quickly that it was impossible to make sense of them, and then there was nothing, and Selaria’s eyelids fluttered, and her mother tried to get Duvalyon's attention.

[Erasmus]

Deep concern for the lady tainted Vorador’s every action, and though the answer he gave was not exactly what Erasmus had been looking for, the sensible words were taken into consideration.

Where was this going to lead him, if he just stood with this man the entire time, awkwardly asking all the wrong things and stumbling over his phrases like a drunk stumbles over his feet? Resolution roosted on his shoulders now, the answer to his problem, the premium solution to it all. Why hadn’t he taken the golden opportunity before? He’d find the silkworm breeder, the one who had given Selaria the veil, bring the chap back if he could (or ‘send’ him more likely), and he would have helped and been exempt from the sea of gawking people, while still making himself useful.

Never mind the fact that he didn’t know who he was looking for, or the possibility that this man had taken himself to a far better, more un-obvious location, or perhaps that this silkworm breeder was, indeed, innocent after all… it would still serve them, would it not? Vorador could sit beside the girl, comforting the mother and what not, and Erasmus could disappear into the practically now deserted woven city in search for the needle in this haystack. What are the odds he would run in to a criminal at all? Nearly zero, which were odds that Erasmus favored.

With that objective in mind, Erasmus took note that all the other moths were female, probably not strong enough to comfortably support Vorador’s weight on their own. He could always just gently set the man on the floor… but Erasmus wasn’t that insensitive… not always. He was about to give up his plot to depart, when someone kindly handed him a chair and another bucket from the crowd. He set the small wooden piece of furniture close to Duvalyon Hellebore, but out of the way enough that if the healer didn’t need Vorador, his work would not be affected by the placement. Erasmus still made certain the moth had a good view of her. He owed Vorador that. With a simple motion he slid the man into the seat, handing him the bucket and getting rid of the other (by setting it aside, disdain for its contents noted, again, in his usually quite expressionless face). “I’ll look for the silkworm breeder. First to the Weft and Warp, and if I haven’t found any useful information, to the Rose Cavern, see if I can’t try to understand what the problem is there. Even if it’s not by his hand that you both have fallen ill, I’m sure a man such as he could give us some insight to what’s going on. I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Vorador.”

Nevertheless, Erasmus stopped to peer at Duvalyon when Selaria’s mother started to panic again. This sudden change did not seem good, not at all, and he waited by Vorador, held with the same curiosity that all the others were now suspended in.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Returning from the visions of the gnosis felt like waking up underwater. Both the location and activity of the mind had to float upward to resume a normal cadence. Duvalyon loathed being out of control, the disorientation made him especially irritable. Selaria's mother had done nothing but hamper him, he was not inclined to pay her attention, even as she was making sounds to beg his attention. "Package," he snapped at the moth attendant, "What was in the package?" Looking for the closest responsible seeming figure, he latched onto Erasmus, thinking idly: you'll do. "She was given something poisonous. I didn't recognize the face. A Symenestra, but not one of the Kalinor born." If he was, Duvalyon would have recognized some aspect of his features. The race was small and cloistered into the same corners of the half empty city. Names might have been unknown, but there was a mild familiarity among Kalinor's permanent inhabitants. Finally able to withstand, Selaria's hysteric mother, Duvalyon looked towards her and the patient she held with fiendish stubbornness. He saw the moth queen's eyelids flutter. Whether it was an omen fair or foul, he wasn't certain. "I want both of them at the Purging," he announced to anyone he could persuade to help him. He needed better medicine than water and more ministrations than the physical adjustment of their bodies. OOCShould I use this as the opportunity to duck out so I don't slow Erasmus down any further?