RP:From Sick Bed to Death Bed

Synopsis: Sargaso and Penelope caught the plague. It's gross. It's bad. There is word of cure at the Chapel of Rest, but the cure is hoax.

Location: Chapel of Rest

Sargaso coughed violently into a bloodied handkerchief. He’d tried curing himself with witch medicine, priest healing, and even swimming in the Fountain of Healing in north east Cenril, but this plague won’t kick the bucket before he does. He heard that a mortician at the Chapel of Rest, who had autopsied over 4 dozen plague-infested corpses himself, has come up with a cure. He joins a long line of sick people waiting their turn to be treated by this undertaker-turned-healer. A woman in front of him appears to be in the late stages of the disease. She is covered in pustulent sores that ooze pus and blood. There was a time that such a sight would make him gag, but in recent weeks he’s seen too many people like her and has developed a stronger stomach.

Penelope fell into the series of symptoms the past two weeks. Her hair was still perfectly frizzy, but her freckled face was ever-so-pale. Doe eyes looked drained and lifeless. Yerrel tried his best to tend to the woman, and the two were trying to come up with studies to heal the plague. There was no luck between the two healers. The older man had directed the woman to Cenril where there was spread of word that there was a cure. She too, carries her crimson-stained, used-to-be floral handkerchief. The old man had sent another to escort her to the Chapel of Rest. Another woman with black hair that was starting to grey—Freya. “Alright, dear. You stand in line, and I am going to run to the market and get us something to munch on,” the lady pats the ill girl. Penelope rises the handkerchief to her mouth and begins to cough violently before heaving a little. The freckled woman nods Freya off. Penelope stands about two people away from Sargaso.

The woman in front of Sarge projectile pukes nothing but bile. Sarge’s stomach isn’t that strong, and he whips around to turn away from the vomiting, his eyes shut tight in a disgusted grimace. The vomiting is made worse by the knowledge that that is his future. Once the sounds of retching end, he opens his eyes and sees Penelope. What a sight for sore eyes. “Hey,” he croaks out in his hoarse voice. He cuts the line backwards to both greet Penny, and, just as importantly if not more so, get away from the late-stage plague victim in front of him. “This thing got you, too? Sorry to hear it.” By the looks of it, they’re both at around the same stage. “I’ve lived through a couple epidemics in Cenril, but nothing like this. This…” He shakes his head at just how bleak it is. His hope that he’ll survive this one is vanishingly thin.

Penelope ’s mossy gaze meets Sargaso’s. A smile is managed as he nears her. “Long time, no see. Thought I scared you off after that arrow incident,” she tries to laugh, but the laughing turns into coughs that she tries to contain with the cloth in her hand. “Excuse me,” beat. “It did catch me too, yes. I was hoping it wouldn’t, especially because I have been trying to heal others, you’d think my immunity would be stronger than this,” she tries to play her words lightly in her raspy voice. “Now, I can’t even try to help myself without blacking out from exhaustion.” She frowns. “It seems you have unfortunate luck. How long have you been sick…?”

Sarge chuckles at her reference to the arrow incident. “Not the worst thing I’ve experienced in life. This,” he gestures at the line, “may be, though. Been sick about two weeks. I’ve also been… well.” He glances around furtively then lowers his voice below the cacophony of coughs. “Don’t want to alarm people. I’ve been looking into what is causing this. It’s got a magical, evil source. A friend of mine has it worse than the rest of us. She found some, uh, tool of whoever - or whatever - is behind this.”

Penelope nods as he gestures to the rest of the infested bunch. “About the same then,” she glances at the others around her. Some with the sores. She wanted to prevent that entirely, so she was using lots of oils. His voice becomes lower and she leans in. “Magical?” A brow is quirked. “What sort of…tool?” She pauses. “Y’know, I had a feeling, especially because the cure is impossible to find. Healers are struggling. Also, how can rats just somehow appear out of nowhere dead…?” Beat. “I know someone who also might be able to help. Her name is Emi. She used to help me learn to stitch people when I was in the Healer’s Guild. I heard that since Miss Sabrina left, she is trying to glue it together. She might be a valuable source with more knowledge on the illness—“ she looks to try to see the front of the line, ”depending on how the day goes, anyway,” she finishes.

Sarge had heard the name Emi, or Emilia, in passing but can't recall if he'd ever met the woman or not. "My friend found a box that seemed to-" A coughing fit brings him up short. He turns away from Penelope to cough and wheeze into his disgusting handkerchief. His whole body shudders as he tries to regain control of his throat. "Gods this is nasty," he sighs says once he catches his breath. He takes a couple deep breaths before diving back into his explanation. "So, the box, it contained some dark magic. I've been looking into it to try and see if I can defeat the curse causing all of this. You approach sounds good too, trying to find a cure for the illness. Tell me more about Emi. Where is she? What has she tried so far?"

The herbalist did not even cringe when the man began to hack a lung. The woman seemed to be more at peace with the fate that was given to her. She was not afraid of death—only afraid of the pain it could cause, and she was afraid to experience the last days of pain from this plague. “You’re okay,” she managed. “Take your time,” she said patiently. She waits. “You think some sort of light magic may contrast against the dark? Though, there is definitely someone behind the box, I’m sure of it, yet then again, mysteries are not my strong suit,” she sort of smiles. Detective Penelope Halifax did not flow very well on the tongue. “I would imagine that the Healer’s Guild is still located in Larket, so she is probably still there. I don’t know if she has tried anything. All I know is that Yerrel, from Kelay, and I have been trying for weeks. Herbs are not working—yet. Yerrel is not strong enough to heal anyone, so far…” The human touches her forehead for a moment to think. “I would have to get ahold of my old tutor Finn. Finn is still involved in the Guild. I’ll have him send word to Emi. Set up a meeting before things get...” her head slowly motions towards the woman with the pus and bloodied sores. "Worse. For the both of us. It seems like we both have the same timeline," she looks over Sargaso. "I don't know how long we really have."

Sarge was very afraid of death, but too stubborn to show it, not even was Penelope speaks to their timeline, their expiration date. "I plan on having years... decades." The line advances and Sarge and Penelope are just 4 people behind the front of the line. "I definitely think this is a curse. I've seen curses before, and I've seen normal disease, as you have. This has a 100% fatality in a span of weeks. What other natural occuring disease moves to quickly and fatally? No survivors?" He shakes his head. "That's black magic." From where they stand now, they can peek inside the curtained-off treatment area. Inside, priests and self-professed doctors and blood letting with leeches.

Penelope moves along with the man. They were inching closer—ever-so-close. She acknowledges his optimism with a slight nod and a faint smile. She waits for him to spill his hypotheses. “You could be right. Wouldn’t you think Ferminville would be a place where the darkness is coming from, though? Since… y’know, rats?” She coughs quietly. Too tired to hack up more of her lung. As they move to the front, she holds up her hand to Sarge and leans forward to see what the deal was behind the curtain. “No way,” she shivers. Her voice lowers so others cannot hear, “Are they really thinking leeches are going to solve the problem?” Her nose twitches and her eyebrows furrow in disgust.

Sarge nods at Penelope's rat-based logic that deduces Ferminville as the source of the plague. "Yep. I say that place should have been burned down long ago." There's entire sentient families there. Sarge, realizing this, tacks on, "Or maybe that's harsh, but done something, you know?" Sarge and Penny get called up to two stations side-by-side to be "treated." Sarge gives Penelope a side long look. "I don't know about this..." The nurse sniffs indignantly. "The plague is nothing more but bad blood. The leeches will find and remove the bad blood. My neighbor's husband's brother was cured just yesterday by this method."

The girl, too, is weary of this approach as they step within the curtains. She is tilting her head in curiosity and she glances at Sargaso. "It never hurts to try. We've made it this far..." Beat. Eyes lock onto the nurse. "Have you checked up on your neighbor's husband's brother today? Surely if every doctor has been scrambling, why would leeches be the cure? I can see it slowing down the process, maybe...?" The girl is doubtful from the many treatments she had received. She coughs and the blood that spews only reassures her that it never helps to try something different. Especially from a medical standpoint. She gestures for Sarge to take the lead first in what would be a hopeless attempt of a cure.