Diseased (for Lilthis and anyone else who wants to jump in)

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casual posting order.

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The air was thick with a fog of war.

The sky was darkened with the clouds of hell.

The water was blackened with a dusty palour.

The ground was covered in a thin grey snow of terror.

And this death was nobody's fault. At least that was what she presumed.

She strode down the street, her eyes darting left and right as she held her naked blade in hand. Lips pursed she was alert and watching, taking in the information as best as she could. Chest rose and fell beneath her tight drakescale corselet, that was as much protective as it was provocative. The chainmail beneath swung and clinked gently to no particular rhythm, but her feet at least stomped out their own.

Her feet. Or her hooves. They strode over the grey ground, looking like a winter's day but it far from the throes of the later months. Instead the fog, the dark sky and the ground was all linked, being that of ash from a great volcano that the rumours had said had exploded very many miles south. Scara Brae, some said, others mentioned Terrinore. A great wind seemed to be pushing the cloud north, right into Corone, where there was a war ongoing, and mass exodus taking place.

Philomel Van Der Aart, matriarch and leader of the Guilded Lily had been on her way to partake in that war, on the road from Underwood to Radasanth, when she had come across this town. It was eeriely quiet, lost and seemingly forgotten. She had halted her faithful friend and steed, the wingless dragon Delath, to begin to walk through here. The long main road was like a graveyard, littered with abandoned pots and pans, toys and blankets.

As the fog grew thicker she sliced a strip of fabric from her trailing, ragged skirt and tied it stiffly around her mouth. It was not too late, for soon she heard the sounds of coughing. Eyes narrowing she scanned the area of sight once more before she saw a man, sallow faced and hunched against the wall. He held a heavily-stained handkerchief to his face and looked as gaunt as death itself.

Immediately she turned and began to stalk over to him, a strong, proud creature in this horrible place. It would be so different to Radasanth, who beat back the dark fog with bright lamps and shouting couriers. Instead this was a place of nightmares. Indeed, she had already been to Underwood, who survived through keeping indoors and their small, strong militia of rangers. Here the most itself seemed thicker and the ground seemed more scorched. Perhaps it was because the town was in a valley, or maybe it was just cursed.

"You alright?" she asked in a strong voice.

Wearily, the man looked up to her. Strange, ill eyes looked out from his face. He wheezed and did not answer.

She leant closer. "Where are your family?" she insisted.

The man paused, before raising a shaking finger and pointing beyond her. The faun glanced where he indicated, seeing a house with a shut door, boarded windows, and no smoke rising from the chimney. She cringed a little, hoping that he told the truth. But what reason would he have to lie?

She nodded once. "I'll see what I can do." And she began to turn back to him. "What is your name? Perhaps I can ..."

But she broke off when she saw him, slumped fully, head back and eyes looking empty. Lips parting she stared. In those few seconds ... How?

Leaning forwards she gently prodded him with her finger. "Hey. Hey?"

But his chest did not move. Nor did he blink. Instead he only looked up to the black fog, and beyond that the nightmare sky, finally broken from the terror that is life.

Dead.

Pale blue eyes leapt back and forth across the pages of a ragged old tome. Balanced on her large gauntleted left hand while being steadied by her right hand she hobbled along the side street dissecting every word. This particular section of the text had the inquisitive dark elf mesmerized. It detailed various theories on evocation and postulated that evokers were not creating matter but rather transporting it from an alternate plane.

As she was trapped in her world of study the young elf failed to notice the sounds of insects and birds fade away. Lilly barely recognized that her feet were now traversing a cobbled road rather than one of dirt. It wasn’t until a light fog began to force her to move her text closer that she paid her surroundings any attention at all. That and the unusually foul aroma, much worse than the typical smells associated with small townships and cities.

As the fog grew more concentrated it wrapped around her and the Alerian shifted her tome into her right arm. Activating the luminous stone on her gauntlet she was able to continue reading whilst her steps slowly meandered down the side road.

Pressing the pages of her book up against her nose wasn’t the safest decision but Lilthis was completely enthralled with her reading. As the path narrowed from a red-bricked building on her left she briefly paused to consider looking up from the worn pages of her book. Ignoring her better judgement she proceeded down the alley. Soon she’d likely arrive at a tavern, cafe, or restaurant where she could hunker down and really sink into her newly discovered publication. That was the plan of course, until her front foot collided and became entangled in something on the ground.

Tumbling forward the careless girl barely caught herself on the coarse brick wall to her left before completely losing her balance. She glimpsed down at her feet to see that she had accidentally tripped over someone that must’ve been napping alongside the building.

“Ah! I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there, too busy reading through my…”

Her eyes slowly adjusted and words halted as she focused more on the being strewn upon the ground before her. The shade skinned elf noticed the body seemed still. Too still. Lifeless. It was a paled woman not much older than herself. Adorned in a yellow hemmed dress the woman appeared to be quite beautiful, clear complexion, and likely a lovely smile. If she was not clearly deceased that is.

A muffled shriek escaped Lilly’s lips as both hands raced to cover her mouth. She needed to find help. Regaining her balance the distressed elven maid dashed down the alley until it poured out onto the main road that ran through this desolate town. Instead of authorities, street vendors, or gossiping townsfolk she instead discovered… nothing. Just vast emptiness and more hazy air.

Heart pounding, the distraught elf scanned up and down the street. Walking in a brisk quick circle while trying to process what was happening. It was in her moment of panic that she noticed a figure off in the distance. Standing near an opening and across from a quaint little home. Overjoyed to see anyone who might offer an explanation, Lilthis took off in the direction of the mysterious creature.

Leather boots slammed upon stone streets as she rushed towards the doe-woman ahead. Gasping for air, still trembling, the lone Svalesin bent over and clutched at her knees before arising once more. Pushing a dollop of her silky white hair out of her face she struggled to gather the words.

“U-um, back there… down the street, there’s a… girl, woman, lady and I think she’s-I’m not sure. Needs help or was killed,” her face light with concern she straightened her back and gulped, “sorry I’m uh, rambling, there’s a body back there and I can’t find the authorities. What is going on here?”

Her nonsensical rant was ended as she noticed yet another corpse at the hooves of the woman she had just embarrassed herself to. The foul stench she noted upon arriving into the town was made clear now. It was the smell of death.

Philomel turned, her breath uneasy. For a long minute she had been staring at this man before her - a man who had died within the few seconds she had known him.

She turned to find someone alive. A drow no less, her hands tightly curled around the edges of a large, leather bound book. White hair framed a lovely face, whose bright eyes were open with concern and what could be fear. This being seemed, with her shock and confusion, to have come across the town in much the same town as Philomel had - by accident, and was likely not a resident. The faun matriarch could only imagine the pain that would have been ridden upon a local's face: ugly; horrible; horrendous. All from seeing their beloved and close ones suffer from this fatiguing, painful death.

"Another one?" she asked quietly, after hearing that there was a dead body found. And with her sword she gestured below her, where the corpse of the man was. "This one just died in front of me."

Spinning, she nodded at the house he had told her of before he passed. "He said that members of his family were in there. I'm not sure of the details but ..."

The door looked firmly shut against the doorposts, and the shutters too. Likely, they were all bordered up, using benches, nails and whatever the family could find. How were they surviving? How long had they been in there? Philomel did not know. All she knew was the thick fog that held this town hostage, and the death that reeked in the air.

"It could be a wife," she let the tip of her sword fall, "and even children, I do not know. Perhaps animals, I am not sure."

She was rigid, full of nerves. Her usual companions were not with her - Veridian, her beloved fox was still in Tylmerande, aiding her army to stay gauged against the horror of the Brotherhood's war. Her best friends were mostly there too. And Shinsou - well. She wasn't going to talk about him.

There was only her dragon, Delath. But she was determined to not risk him. Not yet.

She sighed and fully faced the drow.

"My name is Philomel and it seems you are as new to this town as me. I think we might be at the start of an epidemic."

With a dose of urgency the dark elf’s vision focused in towards the faun-woman’s gesture. Behind the boarded windows and door was a quaint wooden home with trimmings of pale brick. Clay and stone protruded from the corner of the home to form a chimney. Had she not been told just now that a family of sorts was inside, Lilly might well have assumed the dwelling to be abandoned.

Dismayed, distressed, and concerned by the entire situation, the young drow eventually began to relax as the woman she had just met introduced herself.

Philomel. It was a nice name. A distinguished name. A name she could afford to calm herself around.

“It’s nice to meet you, despite our circumstances,” the well-spoken elf assured, “my name is Lilly.”

In her bewilderment the inventive girl skipped many of her normal pleasantries as reality began to set in. Epidemic? If they were truly at ground zero of some pestilence then she was surely one of the least lucky beings on Althanas. Multiple paths of fate raced through her mind until the logical part of her brain eventually caught up.

Her leather bound novel was secured within her bag as the neurotic heroine brought out a strand of pinkish cloth to drape around her mouth and nasal passages.

With a matching sigh the girl confessed, “if it’s airborne I’m likely already in trouble, so here’s hoping.” She fiddled with a screw on her gauntlet, while nervously trying to crack a smile behind her clothed disease barrier. Clearing her through she summoned the courage to suggest, “perhaps we should… I mean it’s probably only right for us to check on the inhabitants.”

Nudging her shoulder towards the boarded home with disdain the elf winced slightly. Reasoning that while it may be their moral prerogative to offer aid she was equally terrified they’d find more dead bodies.

“Would you like to take the lead?” Looking down at her boots briefly her gaze returned to the matriarch, “you seem more prepared for what we’ll find in there than I am.”

Lilthis didn’t believe her own words. But she also didn’t want to be the first to set foot in that house.

Philomel tilted her head with the thought and began to frown. Her eyes looked around her, going from the ragged wall to the unclean window, from the still and murky well to the ash-covered roofs, where it had slid down the verge and piled like snow ready to fall atop an unsuspecting head. Lips reformed that thin, hard line as she considered, an attitude of determination, concentration and anticipation. Her eyes also narrowed, focusing and refocusing as she looked up and down, left and right, spinning as if she was trying hard to see something, yet could not just quite gain a hold of what was. It was as if she was looking for shadows in the brightness of a midday picnic under a clear sky, knowing that they had to be present, but so hard to find.

Eventually, after a long pause, she spoke.

"If it is airborne then we are already doomed," she decided, and her tone was quiet. Bringing her hooves together she shouldered the mighty white-bladed weapon in her hand before she turned back around to Lilly.

A tongue ran over her lips. There was a twitch in her fingers. Altogether she held herself proud and strong, resolute like a warrior queen, but there was now some hesitation in her stance. A slight nervousness, an element of the unknown. Her voice stayed even, and for one not looking closely they would not notice any change, yet for Lilly as close as she was there was clearly some change that indicated a lessening of enthusiasm.

Possibly even fear.

"Fuck," she said quietly, then she pulled her breath in before straightening. Her jaw worked before she nodded at Lilly.

"It will be our responsibility, then, to try not to let the disease spread. I suggest we try the house."

Her eyes strayed back over to the shuttered and boarded house. Within lay the possibility of survivors, who had kept themselves from all others. Would they be coughing, like the man who lay dead at her feet? Or would they be healthy, like Philomel and her new companion would be? Ah yes, companions.

Gently the faun pushed at the waiting presence in her mind; the great dragon who was patient and kind. Trying not to frighten him she murmured a lie as she began to stride towards the house. She presumed Lillith followed her, or rather, hoped. The dark elf's last words had been encouraging. 'Would you like to take the lead?'

Stay there my darling, she told the gentle, wingless beast, Do not fear. I am well, but do not come into the village. There are ... she paused, as she hefted her weapon and sized up the door. Sword on wood. A hammer would be better but desperate times ... People who do not like dragons.

She felt a rush of anger. Do not ...?!

She nodded, adjusting her grip on the sword and the balance of her hooves. Angling her body she prepared to swing. They are fine, but as a mark of respect, for now ... do not come. I will see you soon, she promised the last.

And then she broke the contact, not waiting for a response. Instead, she swung.

Hard and brutal.

And the door crashed inwards.

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Feel free to describe what they see inside.

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Splintering wood and the cacophony of twisting metal screeched towards the pair. The hinges of the large wooden door violently bent and released as the courageous goat-woman pried her way into the abode. Lilly rose her left arm towards her face, trying to brace herself from the various splinters that were hurled in every direction.

As dim as the sunlight was outside a few heavenly rays revealed what must’ve once been a lovely family home. Now it was in total disarray. Centered in the room was a rounded mahogany table, plates and utensils strewn about. Papers and cloth were scattered around the floor. The kindling for their fireplace had been knocked over. And the smell, the smell was horrific.

Clearly plagues took priority over good housekeeping.

As she lowered her arm a bit more light seeped into the small family dwelling. Illuminated, the dark elf was able to make out a few figures within the home, huddled together in the dimmest corner of the square house. Glancing back at her a misty eyed face was clearly alarmed by the intrusion. With equal shock the dark elf’s jaw fell open and her right arm quickly wiped the sweat from her brow.

A woman, presumably the mother held two children close. The trio was pale, skinny, and the spark of life in their eyes seemed near extinguished. Weakly, the mother raised her head from rubble and called out, “R-Rob? Is… that you?”

“No,” the elven woman’s voice responded without a thought. Silence then pierced the environment as she realized what had just happened. Rob was the man Philomel must’ve seen die. What a miserable affair. Lilly took two steps into the home, floorboards creaking underfoot. She cleared her throat and tried to calmly reassure the woman, “my name is Lilly, this is Philomel.” Straightening her back a bit, she cracked a smile and continued, “we aren’t here to harm you, what has happened here?”

The mother let out a sigh, one of the children hacked a cough. Weakly she opened her mouth and with a wavering voice said, “it’s ok sweetie,” addressed at the boy on her right. “The ash fell, we came ill, me children could use a bite to eat,” she stated before slumping over and brushing the cheek of her son.

Philomel looked at the two young children and their mother with pity. So ill, so lost to the fates of the world. Such a cruel reality, to face death as it clung to the very air their breathed.

Taking a step towards her new elf companion and the survivors Philomel paused before she realised they did not know fully how the disease spread. Through the air, or by the dank water - it could be both. What was clear though was that the people here, the survivors, were sick from their pale forms and skin-clinging bodies. Grabbing a piece of the swathes of material that were wrapped at her waist she ripped off a scrap to hold it out to Lilly.

"Wrap it over your mouth. Just in case."

She did the same with a second piece, using her dagger to stab into the material. Once done she placed her dagger away and nodded at the woman.

"We can get you food. Fresh food. But what is your name? And are there any other survivors?"

She began to delve into a pouch at her side. In it she found some trail rations, simple dried meat and nuts. It was not fresh, but it would do for now. For any starving child.

Lilly fidgeted with a loose knob on her gauntlet. She had intended to tighten that one prior to departing from the last middle-of-nowhere town. There were several things that the Alerian woman had done in the past few years that had been out of her comfort zone. Waltzing around a disease ridden town of plague infested humans certainly ranked near the top of her discomfort list.

The faun made a good point, if this thing could be prevented then maybe it was possible the pair hadn't been exposed yet. If nothing else wrapping the fabric around her face would ease her nerves a bit. With warm eyes and a smile the dark elf replied, "thank you, I think that's for the best." She worked quickly and firmly pressed the torn cloth against her mouth and nostrils before tying it as taut as she could muster.

As Lilthis regained her composure the widow before them re-raised her head. She looked completely dreadful. Dirt was encrusted around frazzled tan hair, her lips had faded in color, and her eyelids refused to fully open. Faintly and desperately she whimpered, "I-I am... Eleanor. I appreciate whatever ye can spare." Eleanor's thought process was interrupted as she hacked out a painful deep cough. Nearly succumbed to whatever sickness had preyed upon this dwelling the tired woman was so resigned to her condition that she did not bother to cover her mouth or tilt her face away from the pair of visitors she had.

Certainly rude no matter the circumstance, the privileged elf thought to herself.

Wiping a bit of bile and saliva from her lips the sickly mother tried to remain helpful, "dunno if there be anyone left here. I not been out of me house in oh... six days? Seven? Lost.... track..." Sniffling lightly and then following that with a long wet intake of oxygen she formed the words, "most had already died, when me Rob... me poor husband... he became nearly bedridden. Still tried to go find he's family a bit of help... what a good man."

It was probably proper at this time to inquire about the children. Or offer up the food that Philomel had rumbled through in her pouch. But ever curious and trying to keep her mind off whether or not the elf and her deer-toed companion were in danger the young Alerian thought instead of the possibilities. Had this been some form of contamination in the village's food supply? An outbreak of some vermin infection? Had somebody poisoned the waterhole? All equally intriguing in their own right but the ebony skinned inventor just had to understand this further. Speaking through her homemade gas mask the elf asked, "what happened? How did everyone start getting sick? Do you know what date or time of day?"

The raggedly dressed woman looked up at the inquisitive dark elf. A bit taken aback by the quick succession of questioning. After her brief shock she proceeded, "I-I don't know exact... but sometime after the explosion, that uh... volcano explosion. There were black smoke or soot or somethin' all around these parts and...", she paused a bit. Despite seeming visibly uneasy she continued, "it started poisonin' folk around here. Me neighbors, me kids, all of us... never seen nuthin' like this and I been here me whole life..."

As Eleanor concluded the younger Lilly's eyes drifted up towards the ceiling. "Fascinating," she thought to herself. Though she did have to stop herself from blurting it out loud. That may be a tad inappropriate right now. Somehow the ash from the volcano must've infected these villagers. Could it still be in the air within and around the village? How widespread would the ash have traveled?

Lilly's shoulders relaxed a bit as she turned towards Philomel and said, "we need to do something for them."

"Why are we away from Radansanth again?"

As the clouds rolled in and the sky, Felicity looked up. The volcanic explosion was something she had missed entirely, thanks to being swept away into the Thaynes Realm with an owl guy.

Said owl guy was in a tree. As a literal owl. As the shape-shifting Thayne fluffed his feathers against the cold, his voice echoed in her head. "War. You don't want to go there..."

But I could help-

"-No!"

Felicity gazed up at Gwenael's perch with conflicted eyes. The Lesser Thayne sat upon the dry, mostly dead tree. The white feathers stood out against the drooping, brown leaves tremendously. Still, as he watched with glowing amber orbs, his voice grew gentler.

"If you insist on putting yourself in danger, there are other places in Corone in jeopardy as well." The owl shook itself before fixing its gaze to the south. "Like the town suffering an epidemic over there."

Felicity followed the Thayne's gaze away from the blighted field they were resting in. There was an once overgrown path covered in dying plants. Felicity's eyes narrowed as she took a single step forward. What is it?

"I'm not omnipresent, Felicity." The owl started picking at his feathers, "I see the town's potential future in death, not the cause of death."

Felicity sighed. Now, she definitely needed to see what the town was suffering. She started towards the path. Meanwhile, Gwenael took off and started to fly in a different direction.

"Be careful, Felicity."

Once down the bumpy path , she realized that the ground had dipped. The browned plant life dipped down into a valley. Indeed, a town could be seen ahead. Felicity reached into her alchemist kit and pulled out a rag. She wrapped it over her nose and mouth in case of the cause of disease being airborne. She continued to walk, weapons and bags bouncing as she strode. She placed thin, cloth gloves on as she entered the city limits.

What she saw was far, far worse than Gwenael had let on.

The smell was atrocious. Far more than one or two deaths had occurred here, obviously. Felicity lifted her hand and plugged her nose as she took notice of how vacant and haunted the dirt streets felt. Even animals were not to be seen out here, although a cat lay dead next to a broken pot.

The buildings were the standard wood and stone make. Felicity immediately noticed that many of the houses were boarded up, with large X's painted on them. Disgust rolled in Felicity's stomach as she recognized the cruel tactic of house lock in's. If a single person was found infected with a disease, the entire house was boarded up. The family was, essentially, left to die. Disease could kill its thousands, but lock in tactics killed their tens of thousands.

Anger burned in Felicity's chest. Had the entire town perished for this? Her fists tightened as she turned and kicked the closest thing to her away in rage.

A child's straw doll fell limply in the dust across the clearing.

As the smell of death and decay continued to poison the air, Felicity was just about ready to leave. Had all of them died? Then - the sound of wood shattering from impact. It came from a distance away, but Felicity still heard it.

Hope flared! She immediately bolted down the street, leaving trails of dust behind her. As she bolted towards the general direction of the noise, she passed a single woman slumped on the ground. Dead. Emotions swelled as Felicity darted through the abandoned streets. She vowed to save the lives still left here.

She skidded to a halt down a single street. There was another man, slumped aside one of the boarded buildings. Parallel from him was a busted door. One of the boarded houses had been broken into. Felicity hurried to the man and bent down, feeling for his pulse. Nothing.

Tears flooded in her eyes, and not just due to the rotten odors surrounding her. Had she failed already? No. She shook her head. She stood up, wiping the tears from her eyes. Fresh determination pulsed through her as she marched towards the broken door.

The house was as in sad of a shape as the rest of the town. It was an unkempt disaster with dirtied dishes and filthy clothes just lying around the dust coated house. Inside, two figures stood as silhouettes against the light shining through the door. They stood over three collapsed shapes. One was bent down, offering food.

Felicity ran forth, her botanist mode switched on and ramped up. "Move, I'm a doctor!"

Felicity bent down and skidded on her knees. As the dilapidated floorboards cried beneath, she took notice of the steady rising and falling of a child's chest. As he hoarsly breathed, Felicity pulled off a glove and placed her hand on the boy's forehead.

He was burning with a fever.

Felicity frowned beneath her mask. Addressing the people already here, she started taking out her supplies as she spoke.

"Don't feed them anything you find in this town. It could be in the food. So far the symptoms I have here are too broad to pinpoint. How brilliant!"

She looked up to the individual and blinked in attempts to get used to the shading. She could not take in what they looked like, but already could judge their character by the food they offered.

"I can tell this town practiced boardings. Entire houses were boarded up and left to die." She looked back to the whimpering child, eyes shut, and pulled out another cloth. Bringing it to his forehead, she continued to speak. "We need to find all the survivors we can and round the sick ones up in a single place we can medicate them."

Still, fear started to grip her as the obvious questions screamed inside. "We just need to know what this disease is..."

There was something very familiar about this person. A recognition sparked within Philomel about the flame red hair and the determined personality. For a moment she frowned as she tugged on the bandana around her mouth, but then she nodded, glancing to Lilthis. A doctor would be useful here. Far more useful than Philomel herself could be.

Carefully the faun took a step back, still holding some of the dry trail ration she had offered to the young family. She breathed in slowly, and then began to relate what the woman - Eleanor - had said.

"Something was ill when the volcano exploded," she said in a low voice, hooves uneasily clattering on the ground. "A poison in the air, something in the ash that fell here and seems to have - well poisoned the air and water." She sniffed slightly. "I was riding past on my dragon when I saw the town. The water is black, and it seems like death has been around a while. Eleanor here says that the figure outside," she motioned towards the window where the dead body had been, "is her husband."

She concluded with a murmur. "We need to go carefully here."

The Matriarch considered all she had seen outside. The abandoned streets. The water grey with soot. The corpses hidden but still in plain sight. The carrion crows searching and finding it easy to gain prey. Some doors had been marked with a black cross for death, others had been left open, the wind blowing ash and leaves and dirt into the houses whose occupants were long deceased. It was a town, truly in ruin, and this red head was right. Those few survivors who might be there - they had to find them. They had to search. For though they were likely few and far between it was probable that soon the death would come for all.

The town had to be emptied.

"I will start in the back streets," she concluded. "And find survivors. I can carry easily." Her strength was clear, by her build. She blinked in the dull light, the air thin with a constant hazy mist. Not something one wanted to breathe in, this ashfall. "We can meet back here." She paused.

"I am Philomel. This is Lilthis. It seems misadventure has brought us all here."

Lilly was almost immediately torn by the sudden arrival of Doctor Felicity especially once Philomel and the new arrival were dead set on emptying out the remaining hovels in this miserable place. Wading around in filth amidst a contagion that had seemingly ravaged the town did not suit her fancy. But on the other hand... the dark elf was fascinated by whatever this illness was. If a bit of hard work was required to further understand and document this sickness then the Alerian would suffer the troubles that lie ahead.

"Nice to meet you doctor," the elven inventor offered. Clearing her throat and taking out a loose scroll she scribbled down a few notes from the conversation she had just had with Eleanor. While taking notes the woman tilted her head up slightly, "as Philomel has indicated whatever this is seems to have stemmed from the ash that rained into this township."

As the faun agreed to go find survivors and Felicity laid out a plan the charcoal skinned elf contemplated if the illness was entirely physical or possible had a magical connection. Plagues and blights caused by magic were not unheard of but exceedingly rare. Perhaps some magical force had caused the eruption, and subsequent ash storm, which was contributing to the sickness itself. Or not. It was likely a stretch but if this... thing... had some sort of connection with magecrafts it would make for an even more interesting study.

"I can double check the well, examine the water," she explained. Not exactly eager to stroll off alone in the ghost town. "Perhaps something in the water will help indicate what's happened here."

Aside from just trying to understand the illness the young elf was mostly interested in avoiding more dead and decaying bodies.

The name Philomel was familiar, but rang no bells. Who this was, however, was unimportant compared to the task at hand. She put little thought into it. This Lilthis seemed to be a decent person as well. The familiar faun, hooves clanking on the ground, immediately took command from the information Felicity had given her. Good. We have a leader.

As the dim light shone through the filthy house, the redhead scratched her head. So many questions! Did diseases really just fall from the sky? Could bacteria hail from falling ash? Why this town and nothing else? What was this illness? How could she cure it? She had to set her mind straight. Shaking her head as the others kick started into action, Felicity eyed the wide house. Philomel said the remaining survivors would be piled here. So…
“Hey,” Felicity turned to the victim, “I’ll need to use your house as a medical base. I need everyone in the same place.”

Eleanor coughed, not at all covering it. A slow blink was her only movement as she rasped a faint agreement. Instantly, Felicity turned to the furniture and started shoving it into corners. The chairs and couches were strategically placed facing inwards as extra bedding. Her strength allowed her to rearrange the house with ease and swiftness. Soon enough, she swept the clutter and dust away. She pulled out any spare blankets, pillows, and mattresses she could find and started to lay them out. Her heart was starting to race as the desperation continued to settle in. What if Felicity’s knowledge of medics was not enough to – she shook her head. She would save all these people. She had to!

She was careful as she moved the family into beds near each other as they could still be close and cuddle. As Eleanor huddled with her children, shuddering, Felicity pulled a heavy blanket over the three. Felicity needed to do research. She turned and got her medical kit, feeling uneasy as she managed to explain calmly. “I will need samples. Blood, skin, materials, anything. I need to analyze so I can tell what this is.”

She pulled out a small knife and considered. Was blood the best place to start, or should she start with the water? She could not leave these three to collect samples, however! She struggled immensely, torn and panicked in what to do. She lowered the knife, placing it in the bag. She needed to think.

Her head darted up from her thoughts as she heard someone at the door.

Philomel let the good doctor go about her work, the skill clear from the moments of her hands and the way she looked around the room. She let out a soft sigh, smiling at the small team of women they had collected, made into this fighting force for the situation. With her head held at an angle, she tightened on her makeshift mask and began to aid where she could.

Thoughts struck her, of this place, of the two women. What fate had brought them all here, to this place where the very air and water seemed to be plaguing the people. As Felicity set about to directly aid the family Philomel took up a stance beside the window, finding it dusty and broken. Gazing it she took in the scenery, frowning when she came across a small avenue partly across the way from the house. Down it, hidden in shadow, was a body, and that body seemed to be leaning against -

"A well," said a voice from the door.

She raised her eyebrow and looked up. There was a stranger, unmasked and covered in ash. His hair was grey, making him look suddenly aged, and in his eyes was a wildness like no other.

"The well," he croaked, then coughed harshly. "The water. The water kills."