Soap and Goo

With cold rain falling, and thick, grey clouds, the day is as dreary outside as it is inside the Soldiers Defense. Everyday diseases and mishaps have been partly pushed out by the influx of plague victims. Everywhere the sounds of coughing and sniffling can be heard. And among it all, a cheerful strain of music. Found loudest among the children's rooms, it comes from a wee violin played by a wee Gobbo. She is wrapped up snugly in blankets, with only her arms free. And she plays a happy tune to a small assembled group of children and youth. Complete with a few still images that are obviously magical in nature, a percussive sound that appears to sound out of nowhere, and a few bright lights. Those assembled clap along.

"...sers?" The quiet voice of a Charneth servant. A former Charneth servant. Chay steps into the room. He holds a tray of sweets out in front of him. On the tray is warm bread--pre-cut, with stacks of melting butter on the slices. "The kitchens sent this, with their regards, s-ssers," he says. The sith-makar stutters as he enters the room at last. Then, looks a long time at the smallish softskins.

To say that Chay is mobbed is a slight understatement. The tray is quickly emptied by small creatures that would have you believe they were on the verge of starvation. Most of them manage to thank the rust-scaled Sith, and then they disperse, with the Gobbo slowly packing her violin away. She watches Chay observe the younglings.

Oh no. Nonononono--the servant places the tray on the floor and leaps away! He springs! like a Jack in the woods, his tail whipping out and performing emergency 'don't fall on your ass' procedures, his arms flailing, and he sort of, sort of--lands nearer the hall.

At least not on his ass.

At least not completely on his ass.

"...pease to the nest, ssers," comes a rough, shocked voice. It comes from the sith-makar, as he stares numbly out and up at the ceiling.

A wet cough at his side lets him know where the Gobbo has gotten to. Dressed in some human's nightgown that is too long in the sleeves, she carries the blanket over her shoulder, and her violin case in one hand. "Hello.", she says, her miserableness masked slightly by the cheerfulness in her voice.

"Peasse--" the sith-makar begins to say, and rolls to his feet rather more quickly than needed. There's an edge of desperation to the movement, a quickness at the edge that's a touch raw. "...peasse to--"

"Ser! The plague has sspread--" he says, tail sinking to the earth, now that he sees. He lowers his muzzle. "This one--this one is sorry, sser. One had hoped..."

"--We must take you to Alba!"

Acedia shakes her head. "Alba needs to work. I need only rest. I was simply entertaining the children and raising my own spirits." She offers him a small portion of the blanket, trying to press it into his hand. "Peace on your nest.", the Gobbo intones.

"Alba has found the disease has two parts, sser," the sith-makar says, sounding worried. He shifts, lifting a foot and then putting it back down. "...curing the first part eases the second. You musst share words, sser," he says. He looks to the small ones, and his gaze lingers for a moment, before he looks back.

The Gobbo wiggles the small corner of the blanket at Chay. "Take hold of it. Then you may lead me to Alba." She lets out a cough, something that doubles her over momentarily. "This is news I had not heard. They can cure part of it?"

GAME: Chay refreshes spells.

"S-sser, sser. The disease has two parts, sser. One part sseems to be magic, and the other part sseems to be living, sser, in an odd ssort of way. The...'living' form is a form weakend by immerssion in water, sser. ...this one thinks," he says, Chay does. Chay ducks his head. "This one has not had a chance to confer with Alba in a few days."

He looks up, his look anxious. "This one apologises, sser. That is what one recalls--the depth of what Alba did, this one is only learning. I believe one recognized an Elimination of Magic spell among her works, but--learning, sser."

She huffs and simply tosses the blanket over her shoulder again. "Immersion in water?" The Gobbo appears to think about that. "You mean, like a bath?" The small form runs off.

"--sser, yes, and--" and the gobber runs off. Chay wrings his hands together, /wrings/ them. But the gobber's gone.

After a moment, he walks after her. His breath is elevated however, and his excuses rushed as he passes by this or that nurse or layfolk. "Pardon me, ssers. Pardon this one--excuse me..."

It does not take long to find her, or at least, find evidence of her presence. Her violin case is hastily 'hidden' under a bed, and the bed itself has a Gobbo-sized lump in it.

...ser?" asks the sith-makar. He stands at the doorway, the door itself mostly shut. He stares into nothing--a corner of the wall, perhaps. "Ser, this one apologizes for his words. They are incomplete perhaps, sser. I..."

Deeper breath. A question a younger Chay would not have asked. "What are you doing on the bed, sser?"

The bed lump doesn't move, but after several long seconds, Acedia's voice is heard. "I'm not here, you cannot see me." You can almost imagine the handwave.

"..." One could imagine him rubbing his face. One could. Chay's hand stays at his side, though. He stares at nothing in the room. Then, glances towards the lump, and quickly away again. "As you wish, sser. ...but there are two elements, sser. The firsst was casting away the magic. If you wish sser...one may try. One...would also ssuggest a sstronger spellcaster, sser."

The lump flattens, and a lengthy huff of breath can be heard. "Do you have the spell, then? You may try, if you would want to. I don't want to feel like this at all so..."

"One may try sser, yes. ...but sser. One insists, one is not a sspellcaster of any great talent. And...and sser, once the sspell is cast, you may quickly need a tub of water and ssoap, sser. If-if...again this is speculation, sser."

"...one has...sseen ssome of your kin making such devices, sser. And among the gnomes, sser. ...plague-defending ssoap is becoming popular in the markets. But...this hunter...this hunter...this hunter ventures there may be more than a few steps to the process, sser. Alba--Alba was putting these pieces together, sser. At this time, anything one offers is--is speculation, sser but--if we cannot find Alba at this time, sser--surely we can try /something/. Ser," Chay says at the doorway. He still observes the wall, regarding it with a distant sort of look.

GAME: {{{*}}} Astaren accepts a meet and will arrive momentarily.

Astaren has arrived.

The lump moves to the end of the bed, and Acedia's head pops out with a crackle of static electricity. "Which devices?", she wonders. "And uhm, have you used such, then? Does it work with one application or do you have to keep using it?"

"After the removal of magic, Alba felt better, s-ser. It took a sstrong effort, sser. But, once the removal was done, it--she said it was more possible to address the plague's ssecond element, sser."

Chay lowers his muzzle. "Removing the magic was challenging, sser, but sshe was able to do sso. And, one may try--though again, one must sstress one's very little talent in the area."

He continues to watch the wall. Chay stands in the doorway, observing the wall, for all intents and purposes. "...Alba says the plague has two elements, sser. If you like, I may tell you about them sser--though they may also worry you, sser."

"Why are you looking at th... oh. Uh. You can see me now." Acedia pulls herself out from the covers, with another snarl of static electricity, and she sits up. "I think I can hear the two elements. Maybe I'll be able to help others."

"...ser," he says. Swallows. "The first element is some sort of magic, sser. The other element sseems to be--it may be living, sser. There is a report, confirmed sser, of the mage Mikilos Mithralla performing a ritual. During the ritual he observed a white tower, sser."

"A man in the room had the plague, sser. At the sight of the tower, he sstumbled forward and...the goo he had been spitting up came forward, sser. It...formed a blob, sser. A ...creature-like blob that attacked, sser, but was defeated by ssoapy water, sser, one hears."

"...after that, sser, the man appeared cured. Or at least, no more goo came from him." The sith-makar's tail flicks gently side to side. Overall, Chay appears comfortable enough.

Astaren has had to sneak in, having been kicked out several times for his lack of bed side manner. 'lets see." making his way past some of the guards when they are not looking and heads towards the back. Stopping as he over hears part of the conversation, pausing for a moment while he listens in.

The Gobbo's expression grows thoughtful and she rubs her cheek. "So. We need to track down what magic is used. But uhm, waiting for the goo... the slime... to come out." The face she makes is comically horrified. "I don't want to puke up a whole bunch of goo.", she says. Acedia huffs.

"I also do not want to chuck a bucket of soapy water." She makes another face and looks to Chay. "Would fire would better, do you think? Has there been any success using fire?" She blinks a few times and peers at Astaren. "Where's my notebook..?" The Gobbo sprawls at the end of the bed, rummaging through a backpack on the floor.

"Yes, sser. The...cause of this ssomehow appears tied to the sewers, sser, perhaps. But also to a vampire, sser--and ssomeone who controls--controls--why does one ssmell lilacs, sser?" asks the sith-makar. "One--it iss perhaps. The Altheans have brought over a ssoap bath? Did you order one, sser?"

"...one does not know, sser. One only understands that ssome methods were ineffective, while others were. I was not there to--to observe firsthand, sser. One did come to understand that the goo-creature itsself may sspread the plague, sser, when it comes out."

"It's okay, Avelia," says Sandy, tiredly, as she walks along with the blonde preteen. "You're going to be fine and no you won't catch the plague. Come on. You need to get it looked at."

SAid young blonde is irritated and holding a bloody bangage over one hand. Seems she hurt herself somehow.

Acedia's eyes open a bit more widely. "We found glowing zombies down there. Glowing like Kruulvog when he died. And the slime came out of a rock down there. Probably related. If the slime covers you, I think.." The Gobbo coughs wetly and looks away for a few moments, before she goes back to rummaging through her backpack... eventually pulling out a notebook. "Uh, no, I don't smell anything right now." She makes a nasty sounding sniffing noise... "Completely blocked up."

Cracking open her notebook, she flips through several pages and then peers at Astaren. "Yep, that's the guy.", she says quietly.

Astaren tilts his head thoughtfully, "Soap water, maybe something in the water itself. Either the soap, or something else. Most soap is made of ash isn't it? Could be a chemical reaction with the slime or go?" tapping his chin, "Wait, I am what guy?"

"...eeiiiiii..." Chay takes a step into the room. Into the room, instead of standing in the doorway. The sith-makar's shoulders are tense and tight. He looks at Astaren and...then to Sandy.

"Perhaps one will go and get the ssoap, ssers," he says, sounding unsettled.

"Oh, look. It's AStaren," says Sandy. She leans down and whispers something to Avelia who promptly runs up to Astaren and attempts to kick him in the shin.

She is smiling happily as she does so, bloody bandage all the same.

The Gobbo bounces up and runs past Chay, then Astaren and lastly Sandy. She disappears into the depths of the hospital, returning a little bit later with a full bucket of water. It steams a little. "Okay. A bucket of warm water. And uh..." Acedia holds up a bar of soap, waiting for him to take it. "It smells like flowers." Her facial expression says that smelling like flowers isn't necessarily a good thing.

"Ssoap, ser. I...one repeats. One is not a great spellcaster, sser." Chay looks over at where Astaren and Sandy are playing with the small one. "..." He takes a breath, and seems to steel himself. "...sers. We...perhaps the young one might enjoy a..."

A bandaged, bloody hand. He looks at it for a time, and only years under Charneth squalor keep him from reacting. He swallows a dry lump, instead. Then asks: "One means, the healers are down the halls, ser. Do you need any assistance finding them, sser?"

Astaren glances to the soap, to the others, and sniffs himself, "I am confused, I clean myself on a regular basis

Avelia creeps up to Astaren to deliver that kick, while Sandy eyes the gobbo and the Sith. She approacvhes closer now herself. "Sooo... plague, huh? AStaren, have you heard about it? Some kind of black ooze? Sounds familiar, right? Like that tower we saw," she adds to him, glancing toward the gobbo and Sith again. While Avelia keeps her hand covered and looks pleased.

Astaren glances down as his shin guards offer a loud clank, then to Avelia, "So, Sandy's apprentice?" tilting his head and then nodding, "Yes I have heard of it. Though been keeping my distances, I have other projects I am working on that are kinda important to." rubbing his head, "But flowers you say? Hmmm should find out which ones, that could be important."

"Only...only drop the soap into the bath, sser. I...or, perhaps it will make a better focus, sser." Chay reaches out and carefully takes the soap. No touchie.

"I...you saw the tower, sser?" he asks when the small one speaks up. He's standing awkwardly there, soap in hand and at a safe distance from well, everyone--though perhaps a bit closer to the gobber and the bucket. "There--there was ooze in it, sser?"

He glances at Astaren and his browse raise, before he looks back to Avelia.

Acedia shakes her head when the Rust-scaled Sith says to put the soap into the bucket, and she pulls her hand away once he takes the soap. She surreptitiously sniffs at her hand and makes a face. "Alba mentioned something about that, I think. A vampire. A tower. Maybe?" She eyes Sandy, Astaren and the girl, and moves a little to put Chay between them and herself. "So what spell is needed?"

Astaren reaches down and pats Avelia on the head, "Should not pick up your mothers bad habits. Your a little to angelic for such mean habits now." smiling to the girl, "Oh we almost have your tea party ready to. 1 year aneversary of your adoption."

Astaren shakes his head, "NO spells, just experimentation."

Avelia looks pleased. "She told me it was okay."

"Not my daughter," says Sandy, firmly, "but my ward. We'll get her hand looked at." And indeed, one of the priestly acolytes does wander over to escort the little angel and her blonde hair away from the gathering, but not before she cheers at Astaren's tale of the tea party.

Sandy does not, however, cheer. She sighs instead. Glares at them. Then nods to Acedia. "I heard something about that."

"The removal of magic, sser Acedia," Chay says. His tail twitches, a bit, at the very tip. He lowers his muzzle, and adds: "But perhaps--" ...but the sith-makar breaks off. He looks to Astaren. "Sser?" he asks, confusion in his tone.

"Ssers, there--forgive this one. Perhaps there are many conversations here going on at once, ssers. One had been asked which sspell may help address the plague, ssers. One believes the removal of magic was beneficial, ssers. One's information is not as correct as coming from Alba ssers, but it is worth trying. That is what sser Acedia and I wish to attempt."

"Then ssomeone sspoke of a tower, sser. That is also worth hearing, ssers. One wishes to hear the sstory--" the sith-makar asks, sounding somewhat overwhelmed.

Possibly TBC...