Down with Disease

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dergon darkhelm
Fionn In Disguise
Posts: 4258
Joined: Fri Jul 08, 2005 1:21 pm
Location: Cleveland, Ohio, United States

Down with Disease

Post by dergon darkhelm »

Toraedhein awoke from the dreams with the tortured vision of maggots erupting from his diseased flesh still fresh in his mind. He was drenched in cold sweat, his head swimming. The heavy rain continued outside, rivulets of run-off flowing down the shallow hillside.

He took a moment to look at his bitten leg and nearly vomited at the sight of it. The blackened eschar now involved the whole of his left leg and angry toxic streaks, red and dark, ran up his trunk to just beneath his nipples.

He tried to stand but the combination of vertigo and the pain of bearing weight on the useless limb made the attempt a gross failure. The elf instead fell awkwardly out of the lean-to and rolled down the small rise into the mud.

Coughing, now weakly, unable to clear the fluid building in his lungs, he knew he had but little time.

He began to crawl. Each movement brought excruciating pain as he bumped the necrotic extremity over roots and rocks. He cried out in a muffled grunt as a sharp rock shard bit deep into his thigh as he came over a rise near the village that surrounded the Silver Spires.

Toraedhien looked at the gash with dismay as the very blood itself that flowed from the wound looked like oily brown sewage.

It was hours before he made the steep steps of the Selunite temple just past middle night. The archer normally had sharp eyes, but in his crippled state the two temple guards noted him well before. The two aided the elf carrying him up the stairs.

Before he lost consciousness he had a moment of clarity as he looked to the sky. The clouds parted for just a moment and a clear gibbous moon illuminated the whole of the village for just a moment.

______


His mind was foggy. He couldn't hear well the words the priestess was mouthing. "Gold?" He shook his head. "No. Not that much do I have. I can not pay for your aid."

He slumped. He would die here in this strange on a marbled floor.


Then he recalled. "Wait," he croaked. "The ring."

The elf weakly grabbed at his right hand, gesturing toward the simple copper ring.


The priestess nodded in acquiescence, accepting the offering to the Moon Goddess.



Toraedhein felt a great chill come over him. Before he passed out, this time to sleep for 3 days, he called out clearly... "Forgive me, Imarius. It was not mine to barter. Forgive me. I am indebted."
PCs: NWN1: Trailyn "Wayfarer" Krast, Nashkel hayseed

NWN2: ??

gsid: merado_1
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