The Wreck of the Direption

With Ishani Dhatri disguised to hide his identity as a cleric of Abadar, the party had little trouble escorting him away from the desperate mob around the Bank of Abadar and across town to Citadel Volshyenek. Once away from the Temple, the city’s normal hustle and bustle seemed more subdued today: the waterfront seemed less hectic, market squares had fewer market stalls and only scattered shoppers, and a handful of shops were shuttered even at mid-day. When they reached the Citadel, the guard at the gate recognized them and gave a friendly wave. “You’d better hurry,” he urged. “The briefing’s already started!”

Queen's Physician

As they passed through the Citadel’s bailey, they could hear forceful but unintelligible words echoing off the granite walls. They emerged into the inner courtyard to find dozens of red-and-silver armored guards standing in assembly upon the pitted stone mustering ground, muttering in hushed, somber tones. Before them, atop a weathered wooden platform, paced Field Marshal Kroft, her eyebrows arched sternly as she momentarily tolerated the crowd’s murmurs. Behind her upon the scaffold three grizzled veteran guards stood at attention, as well as an ominous-looking group. These newcomers wore cowled robes of oily-looking leather, supple gloves, and wide black hats. Some gripped heavy canes, others dark satchels. Each of them, though, wore a dark-goggled mask tapering to a pointed beak. Among them stood two others. The first was a middle-aged gentleman in a simple black overcoat with streaks of white gracing the sides of his short, dark hair. He watched the gathered guards with a soft, concerned expression, his hands tightly clasping a heavy looking doctor’s case. The second figure was an imposing one indeed — one of the queen’s new Gray Maidens, clad in her resplendent plate armor and crimson plume.

The Field Marshal’s fierce tone cut through the rumble of whispers as she addressed her gathered guards. “You will escort Doctor Davaulus and his physicians in their royal duties wherever those might take them. Furthermore, you are to consider orders from any of the queen’s Gray Maidens to be as binding as those of any superior officer in the Korvosan Guard. You are the Korvosan Guard. You will not balk. These are dire times, and your city needs these healers. Your city needs you. Your patrol leaders have your assignments. Dismissed!”

The guardsmen began to break up into squads, gathering around their sergeants for orders. Most were silent and grim, but the group overheard some grumbling from others. “I can’t believe they’re putting outsiders in charge of us!” one old guard muttered. “What do they know about what it takes to be a cop in this city?”

“I don’t care who’s giving the orders,” his mate growled, “if they try to make us go into houses with sick folk, I ain’t goin’! This job ain’t worth dyin’ for!”

Kroft, her lieutenants, and the strange group of ‘doctors’ filed off the platform and headed towards the Citadel’s keep. The Field Marshall saw the party standing in the courtyard and caught their eye, then gave a nod of her head to indicate they should follow. She led the group to a large room inside the keep; a detailed map of Korvosa was spread out on a table.

“This is Dr. Reiner Davaulus,” she said, introducing the party. “He is the Queen’s personal physician, and she has tasked him and his royal physicians with helping to contain the outbreak of Blood Veil.”

Dr. Davaulus gave a polite bow. “Actually, I was Ileosa’s family’s physician, back in Egorian. I’ve known Ileosa since she was a little girl – it’s still hard for me to believe that she’s Queen Ileosa now. When she realized the threat that Blood Veil posed to her city, she summoned me to provide whatever help I could, and of course I could not refuse.” His slight Chelish accent was almost indetectable.

Wren leaped into the discussion. “What parts of the city are most infected? Do you know how the disease is transmitted?”

Dr. Davaulus smiled. “Excellent questions – I can see that you think like a healer. We have only just arrived in Korvosa, and were just preparing to meet with Field Marshall Kroft, to learn what we could of the spread of the disease and devise strategy to combat it.”

“I might be able to help with that,” Ishani offered. He shed the cloak he had used for his disguise, revealing his clerical vestments. “The Temple of Abadar is already overrun with infected people, and we have unconfirmed reports of many deaths in Old Korvosa and North Point. The disease seems to be spreading quickly through the poorer neighborhoods of the city, although a number of our clerics have contracted it as well.”

“That is concerning indeed,” Dr. Davaulus frowned. “Blood Veil seems to be even more infectious than we might have hoped, and that will complicate the task of containing it. Your knowledge will be invaluable in helping us develop a plan.”

“Do you know how to treat it?” asked Shadow.

The doctor shook his head. “As I said, we have only just arrived. From what we’ve been told, Blood Veil does not sound like any disease we have experience with. We will have to examine the infected victims, understand the disease’s progression, and then try to develop a treatment protocol.”

“Won’t you just do magical healing?” asked Nat incredulously.

Dr. Davaulus shook his head. “I am a secular physician. In my home country of Cheliax, religious healing usually has, shall we say, strings attached, so I choose to focus on other means. Fortunately, I have maintained a professional correspondence with other like-minded healers around Avistan, so when Queen Ileosa summoned me I was able to quickly assemble a group of experienced physicians to join me here in Korvosa.” The masked figures behind him bowed in acknowledgement.

Kroft interrupted the discussion. “We need to get busy working on a plan, and then come up with patrol assignments. The Queen has already prepared a proclamation that is being distributed even as we speak.” She handed Wren a sheet of parchment.

The party knew there was little they could do to help with this, so they made their exit and headed back to Madame Zellara’s. As soon as they were inside (and Nat had double-checked to insure the door was latched and all the windows were firmly shut), Wren sat down at the table with quill and paper. “I think I need to start making some scrolls of Remove Disease!”

For the next three days, the party didn’t venture outside their house, thankful for the supplies Jax had bought on their return from the Soldado’s. On the morning of the fourth, there was a firm rap on the door. They all exchanged worried looks before Erin got up to answer it (Nat pulling his cloak firmly over his nose and mouth). Outside stood a grim-faced Guardsman. “Field Marshall Kroft would like to see you at the Citadel, ASAP.” Behind him was a squad of other Guardsmen, a Grey Maiden, and a pair of the ominous, masked Queen’s Physicians; he rejoined them and they marched off down the street.

Gathering their gear, the party hurried to Guard HQ. Kroft was in her office, looking exhausted but not (as yet) ill. “Thanks for coming,” she said wearily.

“How are things going?” Tomas asked.

“Not good,” Kroft replied. “The infection is spreading faster than our ability to stop it. People are dying all over the city – more than we can keep count of. Every known healer in the city is doing what they can, but there are far more sick people than curing spells.”

“What about the Queen’s Physicians? Are they helping?” Nat asked.

Kroft shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. They’re trying to help – my men have them visiting infected homes all over the city. But whether fewer people are dying or not? It’s too soon to say.

“But that’s not why I called you here. I assume you all heard about the ship that was sunk 10 days ago?” They nodded. “There are rumors running rampant through the city that the ship was the source of the plague. Some reports say it was showing a yellow light on the bow, the sign of a ship under quarantine, but others say not. In any event, if there is any chance that ship had something to do with this disease, we need to know. Someone needs to investigate that wreck, but that’s not a task I can ask my men to do, even if they weren’t already stretched to the limit. Can you help?”

“I can’t swim,” Wren said in a tiny voice. She had turned deathly pale and was trembling visibly.

Kroft smiled. “Don’t worry – I wouldn’t expect you to just swim down to the wreck – the river’s got to be 80 feet deep out there! I’ve pulled some strings with the city’s clerics – they’ve got their hands full doing healing, but I managed to score some Water Breathing potions for each of you. We know where the ship went down – we can have a boat take you out and drop you off over where the wreck should be.”

Everyone else was ready to go, and collected their potions and set off for the docks, not noticing that Wren still looked absolutely terrified. There was a sailor waiting for them with a large rowboat, and he oared them out into the stream of the Jeggare river. They crossed under North Bridge, and then he began pausing periodically, squinting at the turrets of the city wall until he was convinced he was in the right spot. Then he threw an anchor overboard. The anchor rope seemed to spool out forever before it finally stopped. “This be it,” the sailor declared.

They quaffed their potions and one by one dropped over the side. Wren was last. She stared at the dark waters for a long time, lost in some memory, before she took a deep breath, drank her potion in one gulp, and jumped into the water feet-first.

The slow current of the Jeggare tugged at them as they made their way down. Shadow, with his new Ring of Swimming that he’d found in the Dead Warrens, had fun swimming in circles around the others, but everyone else contented themselves with holding onto the anchor rope, letting the weight of their gear pull them slowly to the bottom. The sensation was strange: at first, every breath brought the panicked feeling that you were about to drown. Gradually they got used to it, and found they could talk to each other normally as well as breathe. The murky water got darker and darker as they descended, and Tomas lit an Everburning Torch, while Nat began casting Light spells.

At last their feet sank into the muddy riverbed. “I think I saw something over here as we were coming down,” Shadow called, pointing to their left. They all began slogging along the bottom, moving in slow motion through the water.

They came to the edge of a depression in the riverbed, and saw the wreckage of a ship laid out before them. A large rock ridge jutted up from the river bottom, and the ship’s hull had split on it: most of the rear of the ship lay on its starboard side, deck away from them, while the bow had tumbled into deeper water and lay nose-down. The masts had broken off and the sails had carried them away in the current. A yawning hole in the timbers near the ship’s keel showed where the city’s trebuchets had found their mark and sent the ship to its death. Near where the bowsprit had snapped off, they could read a name painted in faded gilt lettering: Direption.

They slowly approached, and the keel of the ship rose up above them. “Where do we want to go first?” Erin asked, her voice carrying unnaturally well through the water.

The bow seemed to be open to the river, without needing to open any hatches or crawl through any holes, so they decided to start there. The only problem was that, standing on the riverbed, the ship loomed impossibly high above them. “You seem to have the swimming thing down pretty well,” Jax said to Shadow. “Why don’t you swim up and check it out?”

Shadow easily swam up along the rock outcropping until he could see down into the open bow of the ship. It was cloaked in darkness, so he cast a Light spell, and the area leapt into view. It had once had two decks, but they were now splintered. The bow was choked with broken timbers and other wreckage from the ship, but showed no signs of cargo – or bodies. “No, I don’t see …” Shadow stopped in mid-sentence. The silt that had already settled in the wrecked bow began to stir, and long sinuous creatures emerged and began zipping through the water towards him. “Eels!” he cried.

“He doesn’t see eels?” Nat asked. “That’s an odd thing to say.” But the others understood his meaning, and tried to go to his aid. Jax, Tomas, and Erin pushed off the bottom, and managed to flail their way up through the water until they could grab hold of the jagged, broken timbers. They found themselves facing a phalanx of angry silt eels, and one sank its teeth into Jax’s hand. The bite burned, but the poison failed to take hold. Several more eels surrounded Shadow, and one had latched onto each of his arms. Grabbing hold of one of the slippery creatures, Shadow delivered a Shocking Grasp that literally exploded the hapless eel.

Wren tried to join the others, but sank uselessly back onto the muddy river bottom. Nat couldn’t see most of the attackers, hidden as they were by the ship’s hull, but he did spot one darting around Shadow’s head, and he quickly dispatched it with a Force Missile. Jax swung his sword at one, but it was like swinging through molasses, and he missed badly. Tomas didn’t bother with his sword; he pulled his spear off his back and stabbed forward, gutting the eel in front of him.

Another eel bit Shadow, and again he used his Shocking Grasp to reduce it to a bloody haze in the water. One eel swam over the hull and down to attack Wren. She swung her mace, but the water slowed her swing to the point that the eel had little trouble avoiding it. Jax managed to strike one of the slippery things, but his blow had so little force that it barely broke the skin. Tomas had no such trouble with his spear, and impaled another. Eels swarmed around the party, and Erin, Tomas, Jax, and Shadow all were bleeding from minor wounds. Shadow fired off a volley of Magic Missiles that killed the last eel harassing him and injured the one facing Erin. Wren managed to smash her mace down onto the one nipping at her, and Jax, with another weak blow, just managed to kill the one that Shadow had just injured.

No more eels appeared, and the party caught their breath. Shadow lowered a rope down, and everyone made their way up onto the rock outcropping. Satisfied that there was nothing in the bow, they turned to face the stern. They knew that there were likely hatches on the deck, but with the ship on its side it would be difficult to get to them to try to open them. Instead, they climbed down, and one by one dropped through the gaping hole in the side of the ship.

As their lights illuminated the interior, they could see broken bits of timber and other wreckage, with small fish darting about – but nothing else. “Where’s the cargo?” Erin asked in a low voice.

“Where’s the crew?” Shadow added. But there was no answer. A stairway ahead once led up to the deck above; now it was on its side, and provided a doorway into another space. Erin led the way, followed by Tomas and Shadow. Just to their right was a closed door; to the left, darkness. Tomas extended his Everburning Torch and began walking forward, when a shape appeared out of the darkness, sleek and predatory. It was a shark! It circled once, and then charged full speed at Tomas.

Shadow just had time to fire off a round of Magic Missiles, but they did nothing to slow the shark. Tomas dropped the torch, and braced his spear against the inside of his foot. The shark slammed into him, its jaws snapping shut on his chest. But driven by the force of its own momentum, the spear drove straight through the creature, tearing its guts and snapping its spine. It thrashed once, and then was still.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Erin turned and opened the door behind her. The room inside must have once been the crew’s quarters, as several hammocks drifted in the murky water, but that water swirled with a chum of fish heads and half-eaten eels. The source of the gore stood in the center of the room, a horrid sea hag with hair like rotting seaweed, loose algae-colored skin hanging from her emaciated frame.

The sight of the hag was so horrific that Erin felt her strength begin to leave her body. But then she heard the whisper of spirits around her, the sounds from Zellara’s Harrow reading, and her courage returned. She charged into the room, but her movement through the water was slowed so much that she could not reach the hag to strike at her. The hag fixed her gaze on Erin, and she could not resist the power of her Evil Eye. She was filled with a nebulous but irresistible sense of impending doom, to the point where she could barely act.

Tomas turned, and saw the horror confronting Erin, and called for the others to help. Shadow fired off a volley of Magic Missiles while Wren, still on the lower deck, cast Bless. Jax tried to fire off a Force Missile, but the hag’s innate spell resistance thwarted the spell.

Nat swam into the upper deck, then hit the hag with a set of Empowered Magic Missiles. But then he felt something behind him, and turned to see another eel snapping at him. He just managed to avoid its bite, as well as a slap from its tail, but this one was much larger than the eels they’d fought before. “A little help here!” he cried.

Shadow turned, and seeing yet another eel, gave a sigh. “I’ve got this,” he said confidently, and reached out to deliver another Shocking Grasp. Electricity crackled across the eel’s body, but to his shock, it didn’t seem to bother the creature in the least.

The hag fixed Erin with her Evil Eye again. Erin felt all hope fading away, as if the horror were so overwhelming that it would just be better to close her eyes and never open them again. But then the courage of Iomedae stirred in her breast, and she fought off the urge to surrender herself. She forced herself forward, struggling to close with the hag and finish her off.

Nat used his Wand of Haste to help counteract some of his friends’ difficulties with moving underwater. He was rewarded with a slap from the eel’s tail, which sent a jolt of electricity surging through his body. Shadow, seeing his go-to anti-eel spell countered, resorted to physical violence: he sprouted claws from his fingertips and raked the eel from nose to tail. Jax hit the electric eel with a Force Missile, then Nat retaliated with an Ear Piercing Scream that left the eel floating belly-up in the water.

By now, Tomas had reached Erin’s side, and he stabbed the hag in the side with his spear. She retaliated with a vicious thrust from her own shortspear that left Tomas gasping for breath. Wren summoned a Spiritual Weapon that missed the hag, but kept her occupied.

The party turned their full focus on the sea hag. Erin gritted her teeth, called upon all of her courage, and slashed the hag across the belly with her sword. Tomas gave two short jabs with his spear, each sending gouts of blood into the water. Wren’s Spiritual Weapon found its mark, and then a stream of Magic Missiles from Nat’s finger sent the creature hurtling back into the bulkhead.

When the hag didn’t get back up, the party gathered for some much-needed healing. Erin still felt staggered from the effects of the Evil Eye, and could barely move. Tomas was looking around the room. “This looks like it must have been the crew quarters,” he said, pointing to the hammocks. “But there’s no gear – no sea bags, no footlockers – and no bodies.”

“And still no cargo,” Nat added, gesturing to the empty upper hold.

“There was a sterncastle on the upper deck,” Jax said. “Maybe we’ll find something there.”

It took them some time to get the door to the sterncastle open; the door was swollen shut from being submerged, and with the ship on its side, there was no convenient leverage point to force it open. But at last they managed to hack their way through. The room inside appeared to have been the captain’s cabin. Along with a few other bits of ruined furnishings, the tattered sheets of a canopied bed twisted like ghosts above the snapped wooden bed frame. Knotted amid the linens, a drowned man floated idly in the room’s murky waters. A closed footlocker lay on its side at the far end of the room.

“Let’s check the body,” Jax said, and started to step forward, but Erin grabbed him by the arm. “What if he’s infected?” she asked, and Jax stopped in his tracks. Nat used a Mage Hand to untangle the body from the sheets and float it closer for examination.

If the dead man had once been infected by Blood Veil, it would be impossible to tell now. Crabs and fish had already made a meal of most of his face, along with his eyes and tongue. Erin examined the body. “He’s hit his head on something,” she said, pointing out a gash on the back of his skull. “My guess is that when the ship came under attack, he fell and was knocked out, then drowned when the ship went down.

“What’s that around his neck?” Jax asked. Erin pulled at a silver chain, and revealed a strange amulet; it looked like a fly with its back in the shape of a skull. Erin and Wren examined it, but shook their heads. “Don’t recognize it,” Erin said, slipping it into her pocket.

The footlocker had a watertight seal, which appeared to be intact. Afraid to open it while underwater, and with the time on their Water Breathing running out, the group left the ship. They made their way back to the anchor, then pulled themselves up the rope, until at last they were breathing fresh air again. “Have a nice little swim?” the sailor asked as he pulled to his oars.

They waited until they were back at Zellara’s to open the footlocker. After carefully checking to make sure it wasn’t trapped, they swung open the lid. On top was a heavy black cloak, embroidered with the same image of a skull-backed fly, along with a leather pouch full of coins. Beneath the cloak was a book, bound in black silk and velvet. Serving Your Hunger was engraved on its title page. “Wait a minute!” Wren gasped. “I recognize that title. That’s one of the holy books of Urgathoa!”

“Urga-who?” asked Nat.

“Urgathoa. The goddess of pestilence, disease, and undeath.”

Nat gulped, then joined the others as they bent over the book. It was exquisitely illuminated, and they recoiled from the images inside. The book was a horrid combination of prayer book and cookbook for the preparation of humanoids. It also served as a primer for taking a conciliatory approach when dealing with the undead, and for the transformation of oneself into undead.

There was one noticeable blasphemy in this unholy text: wherever the name ‘Urgathoa’ appeared it had been crossed out, and replaced with the handwritten name “Andaisin”. “So who’s Andaisin?” Nat asked quietly, but Erin and Wren just shook their heads in confusion.

“We need to report back to Kroft,” Tomas said as they finally closed the book in disgust. They set out once again for Citadel Volshyenek. As they made their way through the city, the magnitude of the plague began to set in. The streets, once busy and vibrant, were all but deserted. Almost every shop was shuttered, and the sounds of hacking coughing could be heard from house after house as they passed. They came around one corner and found themselves facing a man leading a donkey cart. The man had a filthy rag tied over his face, and the back of the cart was loaded with half a dozen dead bodies.

At the citadel, they told Kroft what they’d found aboard the Dirpetion. “No cargo, and no crew,” Jax concluded. “Now I’m no sailor, but I don’t think one man could sail a ship that size. So where did the others go?”

Kroft shook her head. “We had men searching both banks of the river. We’re certain no one came ashore from the wreck.”

“That’s not all,” Tomas added. “That sea hag – from what I’ve heard, it’s not uncommon for a sea hag to take up residence in a shipwreck, but how did she find that one just days after it went down? Seems like quite a coincidence.”

“Oh, and the one body we did find was wearing this.” Erin dropped the fly amulet onto Kroft’s desk. The Field Marshall shuddered. “That makes sense, what with the book you said you found. That’s the holy symbol of Urgathoa.”

“But he might have been worshipping a different deity,” Wren said. “He’d replaced all references to ‘Urgathoa’ with the name ‘Andaisin’.”

Kroft snapped her fingers a few times. “Andaisin, Andaisin. Why does that name sound so familiar?” She pulled open one of her desk drawers and began thumbing through papers. “Here it is! I knew I remembered it! We got this a couple of years ago.” She held up a creased sheet of parchment. She scanned the document. “Seems a village on the northern shores of Nidal was wiped out by a sudden and virulent outbreak of bubonic plague. Nidalese investigators found evidence that the cult of Urgathoa, led by a woman named Lady Andaisin, had engineered the outbreak, but the high priestess and her cult had absconded. Evidence that she’d fled aboard a ship compelled Nidal to alert authorities along the western coast of Avistan that Andaisin was a wanted criminal, and that if apprehended, she was to be returned at once to Pangolais to face charges of mass murder. Andaisin was never caught.”

Kroft looked up at the party with an expression that bordered on hopelessness. “If Blood Veil has been introduced into Korvosa by the cult of Urgathoa, our problems are even bigger than we thought.”

The PCs earned 1,100 XP, putting them at 11,627 with 15,000 required for Level 6. Next week I’ll be calling in from Philly and Rich will be running RDS.