Dinner was delicious. The cunningly crafted automata served four courses of delicacies and after an hour and a half of dining, Finian and Ledare were stuffed.
"A pity the Cleric chose not to eat," the Ranger said, picking a piece of corn out of his teeth.
"She had devotions to perform," Freraloth replied, taking a sip of wine.
"The rest of you need to decide what you will do tomorrow," Etoewyn added. The bard was, amazingly, slicing himself another piece of pork, and trailing one brightly-colored sleeve in a gravy boat. "No matter what Afendamar's got on his "to-do" list, it won't be something to start tomorrow, I'm sure."
"Stop trying to rush them," Criraseth scolded. "They've a great deal to get accustomed to as it is."
"I'm not rushing," Etoewyn replied, dropping heavily into his chair, his plate balanced carefully on one hand. "I'm just saying that they'll have some free time tomorrow and Barnacus is a fabulous city!"
"Would there be an herbalist in town?" Finian asked. He had finally extricated the corn and was now leaning back in his chair. "I would like to replenish my supplies of healing herbs if time permits."
"There is," Etoewyn said through a mouthful of pork. "The Crescent Street Hospital and Herbalist sells all kinds of healing herbs. It's only a short walk from here."
"Perhaps Janissary Ledare could escort you in the morning," Freraloth added. "I trust that you know the way."
"I do," Ledare responded.
"I believe that Soriah may wish to join you, as the hospital will have many of the items she will need to practice the healing arts." Etoewyn slurped some wine. "To Crescent Street first thing in the morning, and then meet with Afendamar and see what he's got for you three to do."
The three journeymen members of The Grey had slept well. The beds were comfortable and the rooms warm. The good wine and food that Finian and Ledare had enjoyed and the lengthy devotions that had occupied Soriah all conspired to keep the three of them in bed. However, Abernathy wakened them all early in the morning by pounding on their doors.
"The Laws of Elcaden forbid the display of armor and weapons within the city walls," Freraloth reminded them. He nodded to Ledare and added: "Of course, that restriction does not apply to Janissaries."
So it was that they had assembled in the Great Hall of Grey House, under the watchful gaze of the chimera over the staircase, ready for the journey to The Crescent Street Hospital and Herbalist.
Ledare was dressed the same as she had been the day before: plate-and-chain armor, shield, helmet, baldric and cloak.
Finian had exchanged his slightly damaged and heavily worn studded leather armor for a pair of leather breeches, a loose-fitting tunic and short-waisted, leather jerkin. His dagger - the largest weapon that a civilian was allowed to display in public - was sheathed at his belt. His bola, carefully wound up, was secured there as well; he felt fairly certain that no one would recognize it as a weapon. He rubbed sleepily at his slightly puffy eyes.
Soriah had changed the most. The night seemed to have lifted a shadow from her. She had removed her scale mail and was dressed in a simple frock of coarse white fabric. Her holy symbol hung from her waist, dangling mid-way down her left thigh. Her arms were bare save for some finely tooled leather bracers, and her bulging biceps left little doubt that she was the most physically powerful amongst the group. Her scarred face seemed at ease this morning. Only the pommel of a dagger protruding between her breasts and its mate in a sheath at her hip gave hint of her darker nature.
Ledare regarded her with curiosity.
"I have never met a Battle Priest, Soriah," the Janissary said. "Could you tell me a bit about your religion?"
The Cleric turned to the half-elf, her eyes narrow and probing. She studied her face and scowled.
"I was taught by my instructors that the Battleguard are the cleansing force of our Goddess," Soriah began. "We are the might and the mace to root out non-believers and those without faith in our Goddess, our Faith, our Religion. That is what my instructors taught... I, however, see a different path of the Battleguard. Many a senseless war was waged against supposed non-believers. Many a senseless life was lost in the name of Religion - both those of the Battleguard and innocent men, women, and children. As a matter of fact, I lost someone very dear to me in one of those senseless wars..."
She paused, gazing off into the distance for a moment, her eyes glassy with memory. Then she went on.
"I do not believe as my instructors have taught," she chuckled a short mean laugh. "It is not a Battleguard's duty to smite those who do not believe; it is a Battleguard's duty to serve her Goddess, using might only to protect the innocent, the weak, and the unable. This is what the one I lost taught me: we are the shield of the innocent."
Pain visibly crossed her face as she relived some past hurt.
A little gruffly, she said: "Enough of talk... It is time I go, else the Ranger will stand here all day and ask more foolish questions regarding one's role in this world. I have supplies to obtain. You may follow me if you wish. I do not care."
Soriah left with a scowl on her face. She looked both angry and embarrassed as she pushed open the double doors leading out onto the porch of Grey House.
Ledare looked at Finian, somewhat confused.
"Perhaps we should go," she said to him. "After all, Soriah doesn't know where she's going."
"Maybe we should let her get lost," Finian muttered half to himself.
The weather outside was miserable. The sky was overcast, the clouds threatening to drop rain at any moment. The fog was thick, but an inland wind seemed likely to blow it out to sea before too long. Everything was cold and damp. The smell of the sea was everywhere.
Soriah was standing stiffly at the gate to the street.
"Which way?" she asked grumpily, keeping her eyes focused in the distance.
"I'm curious to know what has brought the two of you to be Grey initiates like myself," Ledare said as they walked through the nearly deserted streets; it was still quite early.
Soriah harrumphed. "Who the Grey Company is or who they serve I do not know," she said flatly. "I only know that I now live to serve, and I am fated to be here, else I would be in the comfort of the arms of My Queen as we speak."
Finian gave Ledare a look that said: 'I don't know what she's talking about'.
"What brought me to Grey House was that my father provided service to the Grey Company in his youth and went on various missions for them," he answered the Janissary's question. " I already told you of his fate. Upon my 21st birthday my mother presented me with the mithril coin and told me about Grey House. I decided to go there to seek adventure and a way to avenge my father."
They turned a corner. The street was becoming more populated as the city came awake around them.
"I was driving my mother crazy by going into the woods hunting for the Iron Claw tribe members who killed my father," the Ranger went on, his tone conversational but still filled with emotion. "She seemed to think they were suicide missions, but I know better than to get caught by a group of orcs. As an Archer of the Green I am a member of a skilled company of Rangers and I am highly skilled in archery, combat, tracking and spying. I am sure that you have heard of us."
"I have," Ledare answered. The Archers of the Green were well respected by the Janissaries.
"How is it that you came to be an initiate?" Finian asked. "If it would not be too painful, I would also like to hear more about the Chagmat if-"
A scream split the foggy morning air.
The three of them quickly looked around, tense for battle. Their hands hovered near their weapons.
Six women emerged from a nearby building, screaming in fear and shouting for help. Al save one was dressed in bedclothes, their hair in disarray, with terrified expressions etched into their faces. Pursuing them into the street was a short bipedal creature that seemed to be composed entirely of plant-like matter.
The women spotted Ledare and they headed straight for her shouting: "Janissary! Janissary! Help!!!"
Soriah saw the plant-creature charge.
It was small, standing little over five feet she would guess, and unarmored. It carried no weapons, but its thorny claws looked capable of shredding flesh well enough. And its body posture told her all she needed to know about its intentions.
As soon as the fleeing women had passed her, she stepped between them and their pursuer.
She had to protect them. And she made herself as impassable as she could, spreading her arms and clenching her fists. She had to protect them.
"Comrades, I will attempt to entangle the creature and subdue it!" she heard Finian shout. "We can then decide what to do with it! Everyone else stand back!"
And she heard the Ranger's bola fly over her head. The weapon spun through the air toward the mossy monster, but missed it by a wide margin. It thudded against the front doors to the Hospital and then fell into the dirt.
The humanoid plant turned away from the women and toward the Ranger then. Its twisted mouth opened in a scream that, strangely, had no sound. It charged at him as quickly as its legs would carry it. The Archer backed up as quickly as he could, attempting to draw his dagger as he did so.
"Avoid touching the monster!" he took the time to yell. "It may infect you!"
Soriah wondered if he was right. She, herself, had never seen a plant-man before and she was not surprised. She thought that the heat and rocky soil of Haven would be a poor environment for such a creature.
In fact, it seemed out of place here in the city as well...
Soriah reached out and grabbed one of the trembling women by the arm. The woman, a very old nurse, judging by her uniform, turned to face the Cleric, her withered face etched briefly with fury. Then she blinked and her toothless mouth began to tremble.
"This thing," Soriah asked, angling her head toward the four-foot moss-man that was sparring with Finian and Ledare. "What is it? Why is it here?"
"I- I don't-," the woman stammered. She was shrinking away, looking very afraid of the Battleguard.
"They were just there this morning," another woman said, placing her hand on Soriah's forearm. "We awoke as always and went to tend the patients-"
She stopped, her face becoming distraught. She clutched at her head, her fingers disappearing into her unkempt mass of greying hair.
"The patients!" she shouted, her eyes as wide as platinum royals.
"They're trapped inside! And Dr. Alastair! Where's Dr. Alastair!!?"
Ledare drew her longsword. The Battle Priest seemed intent on protecting the nurses which was fine since it was plainly obvious that the Ranger was of little use against the four-foot plant man. The monster was every bit as quick as the Ranger, and seemed intent on laying him low. Finian's only wish, however, seemed to be to retreat.
The rash idiot should have thought about not wanting to touch the creature before he provoked it with an attack! But it was her duty to protect those in need: even fools who bring danger on themselves.
The moss-man swung at Finian with its thorny claws. They slashed the air a whisper from his throat, slicing easily through the wide leather collar of his jerkin.
Finian still tried to retreat, but it kept coming at him, mouthing its silent scream.
Ledare came up to the beast from behind, and readied her longsword to strike with the flat of the blade. She swung and missed. Although she had failed to connect with the abomination, the creature did turn from Finian to face her: a sight that seemed to please the Ranger quite a bit.
"I will attempt to recover my bola for another shot if I can," he told her as he turned to flee toward the Hospital.
Anger bubbled up from her gut. He was leaving her to fight his battle!
She focused past the rage and concentrated her attention on the creature's attack. It was relentless, and tried to attack past her shield, but she deflected its attacks. In a fury the monster swung at her and missed horribly. It over-balanced and fell flat at Ledare's feet, dazed but still moving.
Soriah released her grip on the old nurse and turned to the distraught woman.
"Dr. Alastair is missing!" the woman said. Her hands came away from her head, and dropped limply to her sides.
"Who is this doctor?" Soriah asked, trying to keep the woman talking. Of the six women who stood shaking in their nightclothes, she seemed to be the most in charge of her wits.
"Dr. Edwin Alastair is the hospital administrator," she said, her eyes coming back into focus. "He must still be inside the building. Someone has to find him and make sure that he's all right!"
The woman began patting at her robes, searching for something.
"There are also twelve patients trapped in the infirmary," she added. "They'll never be able to escape by themselves, not with those... those things running around."
Ledare was torn.
The plant-creature was down - an easy target for her sword - but she was hesitant to slay it outright. Likewise, it was at her mercy should she choose to drop on it while it lay face down in the street. But the ranger had warned against touching it...
"What do you mean, it might infect us?" she shouted, taking a step back from the creature. It was getting to its feet, and the moment of easily striking it down was past. "Do you know something that I don't know?" she asked him.
"Just a hunch," the ranger replied. He wound up with the bola as the plant-man rose upright. "Stand back, Ledare. We can try again to entangle the creature unless you want to slay it!"
She didn't. And although she didn't agree with the Archer's initial use of the weapon, perhaps entangling the moss man with the bola was the best way to end this conflict with a minimum of bloodshed. She raised her shield and took a few steps back.
The plant-thing advanced on her, oblivious to the Ranger and his bola. He spun it above his head and let it fly. It arced at the creature's back and the Ranger let out a little shout of triumph as it hit home, wrapping itself around the creature's midsection, and pinning both its arms to its sides. The impact of the three weighted stones bore the creature once more into the mud where it writhed around and kicked its leafy legs.
The search of her robe had yielded results. She produced a ring on which several skeleton keys had been strung.
The old woman, the only one who was currently dressed in her uniform, grabbed hold of the other woman's wrist.
"Allenna!" she said harshly through gritted teeth. "Aren't you being a little rash? We don't even know-"
Allenna jerked her hand away, rattling the keys. "No, Ezra! Something must be done to save them!"
"Listen Nurse, I am one who is trained in the art of war and healing," Soriah said, straightening her shoulders and pushing out her chin. "I can help your doctor, but I will not blindly rush into a house filled with transformed monsters."
Allenna looked at her with confusion on her face. She held the ring of keys tightly with both hands.
"If you care to tell me what is going on I may be able to help you with the aid of my companions," Soriah went on, hoping that she was getting through to the woman. "If you do not wish to advise me, that is your choice of course; I do not believe in altering with the Gods' plans or creations; therefore, I have no problem leaving you and your doctor to what ever misshapen plans you have been doing. It is your choice..."
The other woman's mouth opened and closed then opened again. She looked rather like a fish out of water. Abruptly, her eyes snapped into focus and her mouth clamped shut with an audible CLACK.
"What are you saying!?!" she demanded. "Are you suggesting that we - that I somehow caused this disaster?!! That I CREATED these creatures so that they could attack me... and the nurses?!"
She shook her head and turned away from the Battleguard. "Dr. Alastair is my friend and he is in danger and you blame ME!!"
The old nurse, Ezra, moved over to Allenna and put her thin arm around the other woman's shoulders. She shot a dark look at Soriah and said, "I told you that she wasn't to be trusted, Allenna. Just look at her for Flor's sake!"
Soriah ignored the old nurse's comments and said, "Yes, that is what I am suggesting."
Allenna turned and glowered at the cleric.
"I do not know who or what is going on here," Soriah went on. "But I do know that plant things running out of hospitals and chasing the nurses is an abnormal event especially in a city. I leave it at that. I am not in favor of allowing innocents to become harmed because you fear being placed at fault. Again, it is your choice."
With that the Battleguard turned away and began walking toward Ledare and Finian.
"Leave them be, Allenna," she heard Ezra hiss. "We'll call for the Watch..."
"They'll never get here in time," Allenna replied in a broken whisper.
Ledare and Finian kept their distance from the thing writhing around in the muddy street. It was firmly bound, but didn't appear to be significantly injured.
"Nice shot," Ledare said to the Ranger. "About time you hit something other than the wall." She shot Finian a mischievous smile and then went back to studying the plant man.
"Thanks," the Archer chuckled at Ledare and then he did the same.
The little humanoid's body rustled as it struggled against the bola straps, but it made no sound otherwise despite the fact that its ragged mouth was snarling in an apparent scream.
"Tell me why you thought the creature might be infectious?" Ledare asked Finian, tearing her eyes away from the creature. "Have you seen this kind of monster before?"
Finian shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Ledare, since the creature ran out of the hospital, I believe that it could have been a human once," he told her. "This person may have been infected by green slime which is an algae-like plant that feeds on anyone or anything that happens to come in contact with it. I have heard stories of situations like this."
Ledare's face wrinkled up in disgust and she looked again at the plant man.
"It is just a hunch," the Archer went on, "but contact is how the creature/disease is spread. If this creature was once humanoid, I believe that we would be doing it a favor by putting him out of his misery. He is obviously dangerous too if he is attacking people in the streets. We should decide quickly before he escapes what to do. If you slay him with your sword, be sure to carefully clean it. I am not sure what they do to metal."
Soriah saw that her companions had captured the moss creature and were standing a few paces away from it and talking. Or rather, the Ranger was talking; Ledare was listening.
As she approached, Soriah got her first good look at the thing. The little humanoid was entirely composed of plant material. Its head was shaped rather like an onion with leafy green shoots trailing from its crown like hair. Moss covered its body in uneven patches and a network of gnarled brown vines seemed to hold it together. Its root-like fingers and toes were tipped with wickedly pointed thorns.
She walked up to Finian and Ledare and said, "I believe that there may be unholy experiments going on inside that hospital."
"Janissary!" the woman who Soriah identified as Allenna cried out. "Please, Janissary! My friend and colleague, Dr. Edwin Alastair is still in there with those things! He went back to get the patients from the infirmary! Now he and all twelve patients are trapped inside! You must do something to save them!"
The woman had a ring of keys in her hand, and she offered them hastily to Ledare.
"These keys will open any locked doors inside. I'm afraid that only Dr. Alastair has keys to the cabinets and lockers, but this should easily get you into the infirmary. There're magical light fixtures in each room that are controlled by the command phrases: 'Lights On!' and 'Lights Off!'"
Ledare took the ring of keys.
"The infirmary is straight back from the Hospital entrance," the old woman, Ezra instructed. "Through the waiting room, passed the Nurse's desk and-"
"No, Ezra," Allenna quickly corrected the old woman. "Going that way will trigger the alarm inside the building. So will going in through the fire doors at the side and back. The only way to enter without announcing your presence is to go in through the Herbalist Shop."
She pointed to the open door through which the women had run.
"There's a hallway at the back of the shop," she explained. "Go down it and take the first left. Follow that hallway. You'll see the nurse's desk on your left. Take the hallway to the right. There're nine patient dormitories off of that hallway and the common room beyond. Dr. Alastair and our twelve patients should be in that area."
"I think that we should attack them! " Finian said, excitedly. "They are creating more by watering them and are obviously dangerous!"
"I do not think we should needlessly kill these creatures," Soriah responded. Her eyes seemed to dare anyone to disagree with her. "However they appeared they are here now and we should only harm them in self defense."
"I agree with Soriah," Ledare said. "We don't know if the creatures were once humanoid, or one day may return to being so. I don't think we should harm them unless it is absolutely necessary."
She held the set of keys up for the others to see and added, "If we can manage it, I think it would be wiser to lock the plant creatures inside the room now and continue on to try and find the patients."
"Patients?" Finian asked as he stepped away from the door and pushed it closed. "What patients?"
"One of the nurses told me that a Doctor Alastair and twelve patients are trapped inside," Ledare told him as she began trying keys in the lock. "She briefly told me how to reach them. We need to head down the hallway in the back of the shop."
There was a dimly lit hallway leading deeper into the heart of the building behind the counter. Another closed door stood beside it in the rear wall.
As she tried keys, the Janissary went on: "If Soriah is correct in sensing evil magic here, then I think we had best find the doctor and the patients as quickly - and with as little detouring - as possible."
Soriah stepped away from the door and shook her head. "I am here to gather the necessary herbs for healing then returning to The Grey Company. They have summoned us and are awaiting," she said. "We were not sent here to meddle in town affairs; however misshapen this experiment is."
"Gosh Soriah," the Archer began his voice full of mock surprise. "Since when are you so loyal to The Grey Company? You always have been saying it is your goddess that guides you. The Grey Company's job in my mind is to protect the people of the Realms. Ledare's job is to protect the people of the city. I am for helping Ledare do her job."
Soriah seemed undeterred by the ranger's words. "The nurses have asked for help, but refused to provide necessary information. At least to me. I will not be their puppet to save them without even the courtesy of knowing what I am getting into. If you two wish to help, that is your choice. I will investigate but will not interfere."
Ledare's key turned with an audible CLICK and she smiled.
"Fair enough, Soriah," the Janissary said. "You could drag the one in from the street, as you suggested, if you can manage it without risking the contamination that Finian was talking about. We'll lock it inside with its companions and then proceed to the infirmary."
The Battleguard nodded and turned to the front door. Finian followed.
"That is a good idea, don't you think Soriah?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I don't need your help in getting this creature," was Soriah's only response.
Out in the street, she proceeded to where the mud-caked plant man was still struggling against its bonds. She bent and gripped the bola cords with both hands, grunted once and hefted the creature up off the ground. It came easily, being far lighter than a creature of flesh and bone. Then she marched back inside with her struggling burden.
Finian, meanwhile, ran to the six nurses and said, "Alert the Watch for further assistance. Send word to Grey House if you can. In the meantime, we'll try to rescue the Doctor and the patients."
"Thank you, sir," said Allenna. "Thank you very much."
"I will go fetch the Watch," Finian heard the aging crone dressed in her nurse's uniform say before he rushed back inside.
Back in the Herbalist's Finian saw Soriah swinging the garden door shut and Ledare twisting the key in the lock.
"I will not bail him out this time should he awaken another demon in his haste to act before thinking," the Cleric was saying to the Janissary.
Ledare secured the keys to her belt and drew her sword. "Let us proceed down the back hallway, following the directions given to me by the nurse."
"Ledare," Finian asked. "Do you have a weapon perhaps larger than a dagger that I could use in combat? I feel unprepared with only a dagger."
The Janissary thought for a moment before producing a hand-crossbow from her belt. She offered it to him and said, "I'm not sure that it will do much good indoors, but it is yours to use until we locate the doctor if you wish."
Finian took the bow and looked at it critically. "I am not experienced with such a weapon, but I will use it just the same. Thank you."
"Now," Ledare said. "I, as the best armored, will take the lead."
She edged around the counter and began heading down the hallway.
The corridor was dim, but not dark. Enough early morning light was coming through the windows in the Herbalist's Shop and from other sources ahead, that it was plainly obvious that no enemies awaited them. A simple runner of carpet kept their footfalls from betraying them, and Ledare guessed there was plenty of room for her to swing her sword should it become necessary.
Only once, did she fear it would be. As they made their way down the first leg of the hallway, there came the sound of running feet over their heads. It sounded as if a group of children were racing around upstairs. Abruptly, however, it stopped.
Following Allenna Dean's directions, at the first branching of the hallway, the group turned left. They passed a closed door on their left and another on the right. Beyond that, the hallway opened up into a kind of sitting room.
A fireplace was set into the outside wall of the wood-paneled room. Three circular tables with chairs rested in the middle of the floor. A deck of playing cards sat on one tabletop. Hanging on the wall to the right was an exquisite tapestry depicting a white-robed saint and his train of followers.
To the left, in a corner alcove, sat the nurse's desk, its surface bare accept for a few blank sheets of parchment, a quill and an inkwell. Behind the desk was a closed door. Another hallway led off to the right and several closed doors were plainly visible leading off of it.
Pointing down that hallway, Ledare whispered, "That should be where we'll find Dr. Alastair and the patients."
"The directions you were referring to were from the nurses correct?" Finian asked, licking his lips nervously. He didn't feel particularly comfortable indoors; it was far too closed in for his taste.
"Correct," Ledare responded in a hushed tone. "They told me that the Doctor and the patients were likely to be in the rooms ahead."
"And that's all that they told you," the Ranger said, shaking his head. He moved over to the large nurse's desk and examined the papers. "They did not give us much information themselves so I think we are on our own to find out what the heck is going on."
He shuffled quickly through the sheets of parchment; they were all blank.
He began trying the drawers.
Soriah made a harumphing sound and shook her head.
"Janissary," she began in a harsh whisper, "you have decided to help the doctor and that is a good choice for a public servant such as yourself. However, I serve a different Mistress and believe not to interfere with the order of things unless chosen to do so."
Ledare paused and regarded the Battleguard.
"And you don't think that your goddess would want you to help these people?" Finian asked, pausing in his attempts to open the locked desk.
Soriah turned her scarred face upon the Archer and grinned a thin, humorless grin. "Ranger, I am glad you are taking an interest in at least thinking of the Gods that control our fate, direct our life and give us meaning rather than the next gem you can lay your hands on," she said. "I do follow My Queen, and My Queen has directed me to the Grey Company. That is all you need to know."
Saying that she turned her broad back on the others and began to head back the way they had come. "Janissary," she added. "If you require my aid, I will be in the Herbalist Shop collecting what I came for. And watch that Finian does not steal your things."
"What?!" Finian said a trifle louder than he intended. He brandished the dagger in his right hand, his face twisted in anger.
Ledare blocked his progress with her shield and looked him in the eye.
"I have a duty to perform," she said. "Your squabbles can wait until a more appropriate time. For now, either help me rescue these citizens or leave. I'll not have you attracting more of these plant creatures by arguing."
Finian looked at Ledare and nodded. "Lead on, Janissary."
She turned and began heading down the hallway. At the first door she paused, swallowed and tried the handle. It turned easily in her hand and opened quietly.
The room beyond was furnished with a pair of beds, two storage chests, a table and two chairs. A plush carpet covered most of the bare wooden floor. The beds were simple but comfortable-looking with rumpled sheets and stuffed pillows. A tattered white gown lay discarded on the floor beside the left-hand bed.
There was no sign of occupants.
Ledare closed the door and proceeded to the next one, a few paces further along the hallway. That door too opened readily to reveal a room with two beds. Its contents were largely the same. However, there were claw-marks ripped through the sheets on the right-hand bed and cotton stuffing puffed out from the rents.
Ledare closed the door and frowned. "This does not bode well."
Soriah smiled to herself as she turned the corner back into the Herbalist's Shop. The front door still stood open and the chill sea air was blowing in. Several of the fragrant pouches that hung from the rafters swayed in the gentle breeze.
Soriah looked around at the shelves packed with jars and bottles and boxes. It was almost overwhelming considering that there was no discernable order to the place. She saw a jar of bright orange berries labeled: ALETHER, beside a clay pot stenciled: GARLIC, beside a box marked: SPANNISH NUT.
She began browsing the shelves for any items that she recognized: TAI-GI, SESSALI, SHEPARD'S PURSE, MELANDER, HOST RESTORATION, SCARFADE... now there was one she knew. Soriah grabbed the wide-mouthed jar and held it up to the light. She could see that it was more than half-full of the gelatinous substance - enough treatment for a dozen wounds, maybe more if she used it sparingly.
"Have you found Dr. Alastair?" a voice called behind her.
She turned, one hand on the dagger at her hip. It was one of the nurses, Allenna Dean. She stood just outside the front door, looking in. She was clutching her flimsy robe tight around her against the cold. Her face looked distraught and Soriah could see three of the other nurses standing further away, their bare legs caked with mud halfway to the knee.
"Ezra went to fetch the Watch and Flora went to The Grey House, just as your companion asked," Allenna said. "Have you found Doctor Alastair?"
The hallway opened up into a large, shadowy room, the floorspace of which was taken up by carpets, armchairs, end tables, and sofas. The furniture and wall hangings all served to give the area a sense of comfort that seemed almost perverse considering the current situation. Adding a touch of color to the wood-paneled walls and mahogany furniture were several potted plants that seemed very sinister in the half-light. An iron-wrought spiral staircase ascended to the Hospital's upper levels. Ten closed doors lead off of the chamber at various points around the room; double doors were set in the far right corner.
The Archer couldn't be certain, but he thought that he had caught a glimpse of movement near the foot of the spiral stairs...
"I think we are being watched," Finian said, pointing toward the spiral stairs with the hand-crossbow. His voice was just barely above a whisper. "I saw movement by the stairwell. I think they have seen us, so let us proceed with great caution."
Ledare frowned and squinted her eyes. They were as keen as any half-elf's, but she saw nothing by the stairs.
"I see nothing, Finian," she told him in the same hushed tone the ranger had used. "I say we quickly check a door or two and then head up the stairs."
Finian would have none of it. In truth, he couldn't see anything NOW either, but that didn't change the fact that he HAD seen something. He was almost certain of that fact. He'd spent enough years hunting game in Spiney Wood to have learned to trust his eyes and his instincts. "We can come back to the doors later," he said and began moving toward the stairs. "Let us proceed with caution."
Ledare gritted her teeth. The Janissary was shamed to admit it, but she was beginning to resent the King for saddling her with this duty. The ranger seemed intent on finding combat at the earliest opportunity and the cleric's penchant for removing herself from the scene wasn't aiding their cause any. Whatever that cause turned out to be.
Her tour of duty with The Grey company was shaping up to be a long and trying one.
She reigned in her emotions and paused. She would support Finian if combat occurred, she decided, but would not move up the stairs without checking the rest of the doors in this area. THIS was where the nurses had said Doctor Alastair would be, not upstairs. So she watched him creeping quietly closer to the spiral staircase.
Finian had done this dance a hundred times. A thousand times. Predator and prey. Hunter and hunted. Nevermind that he was inside a building rather than in the forest. Nevermind that his prey was likely capable of hurting him greatly - maybe killing him outright. The motions of the dance were the same. The song of blood pounding in his ears sounded as sweet as ever...
He crept nearer to where he supposed his quarry to be: an overstuffed chair and endtable near the stairs. A wooden bowl, half-filled with peanuts sat on the table with a well-worn, closed book beside it. Finian's eyesight, sharpened as it was by the hunt, picked out the name stenciled in goldleaf along the spine: "The Mercies of Flor". There was a patch of heavy shadow between the chair and a potted plant beside it that could have concealed one of the small plant men.
The hand crossbow, a small and unfamiliar weapon felt good in his hand. It wasn't his longbow, but that weapon wouldn't serve him overly well in this environment anyway. It was better suited to bringing down game at a distance, not these close quarters. The tiny crossbow, with its miniature bow and miniature bolt was ideal for this situation. Finian doubted whether it had a range much larger than the breadth of the room in any case.
There was no movement from the chair as he crept closer. Neither did the plant fronds stir or the shadows shift.
He held the crossbow before him, his dagger in his off hand as he approached.
He was within an arm's length of the chair and still could see nothing out of the ordinary. At this range, it was obvious that the shadow concealed no sinister assailant.
Finian was beginning to doubt himself. Perhaps he hadn't seen anything after all.
And as she watched him, Ledare's senses reached out. Her eyes concentrated on the ranger, but her others went elsewhere.
Firstly, she could smell the bitter scent of some type of scouring powder. This place was scrubbed rather regularly she would guess, but the odor was not strong enough to completely mask the feint stench of Sickness. The corrupting touch of Aphyx seemed to cling to everything in the place.
Her ears could discern the thrumming pound of her own heart and the soft padding of the ranger's feet as he made his way toward the center of the chamber. Beneath that, she could hear the soft creaking of wood somewhere above them.
Suddenly there came another sound. She would probably have missed it if she hadn't been listening so intently. It was muffled by distance and intervening walls, but still unmistakable to her: the sound of furniture being overturned. Closely on its heels, she heard a whimpering cry of fear. It was coming from behind one of the doors at the far end of the chamber.
"Archer!" she shouted. "This way!"
And she was running across the room.
He began to mull how he would explain to Ledare when the Janissary's voice called out like a thunderclap:
"Archer!" she shouted. "This way!"
He turned to see her dashing for the far end of the room as quickly as her chain and plate armor would allow.
Then a figure rose up between them.
It was a plant creature!
It had been hiding not behind the chair, but under one of the sofas. It sprang free of hiding and leapt onto the cushions so that it loomed taller than Finian as it drew back its arms and swung...
...a broom?!?
As she neared the door, she could easily make out the sound of splintering wood behind it.
She tried the handle and it swung open as easily as all the others. Unlike the other rooms they had seen, this one was definitely occupied.
An older man dressed in a white robe was seated on the edge of one of the beds. He was balding with wisps of white hair and a white goatee. His wire-rimmed glasses twinkled in the bright light. His face was etched with fear, and it was immediately apparent why: a plant creature had him cornered. It turned as the door opened, its seedpod eyes somehow displaying evil and malice despite their inhuman appearance.
As the creature moved to attack, the old man shouted, "Don't kill him! It's still possible to save him!"
"My companions are searching for the Doctor and your patients," Soriah replied. She looked at the jar of Scarfade in her hand and then placed it on the wooden counter. "I am inventorying and collecting the necessary herbs I need for healing. If you wish to seek my companions, they are that way."
Allenna Dean looked down the hallway that Soriah indicated and then looked down at the floor.
"N-no," she said in a soft whisper and took a hesitant step inside the Shop.
Soriah went back to surveying the shelves. ERWURGWORT, HORSEFOOT, FINKEL, FEUERKRAUT... another one she recognized. It was an excellent treatment for burns. If she'd had bandages treated with feuerkraut when Fir Flinderkin had wounded her, things might have gone very differently for her.
"This is my shop," Allenna said, staying near the door. "If you tell me what you're looking for perhaps I can locate it for you."
Soriah regarded the woman, evaluating her.
"I need healing supplies," she said finally. "Bandages. Salves. Needle. Thread."
She listed off other items and Allenna smiled sweetly.
"A standard field kit," she replied to the Battleguard. "I am often called upon to distribute Flor's mercies in such a manner. It will be no problem to equip you with such... although certain of the supplies require Doctor Alastair to-"
The Herbalist stopped then and listened. Soriah had heard it too: a female voice shouting somewhere within the Hospital. She couldn't make out what was being said, but there was a note of urgency that was impossible to miss.
It sounded like the Janissary.
Soriah turned and drew both daggers in one fluid motion. As she headed for the hallway leading into the heart of the Hospital, she flipped the daggers around in her hands so that the pommels protruded from her fists.
Daggers were forbidden to the Battleguards of Shaharizod, Soriah knew; they were considered thieves' weapons. Dirty weapons. Normally, she carried them only for show, to discourage unwanted advances. But they were the only weapons at hand, and using them to augment her punches was a task to which they could be employed without fear of angering her Queen.
She moved down the hallway, the hem of her white dress fluttering about her like the wings of a bird of prey. At the nurse's desk, she turned and headed down the short hallway there.
It quickly emptied into a large, shadowy room, the floorspace of which was taken up by carpets, armchairs, end tables, and sofas. The furniture and wall hangings all served to give the area a sense of comfort that seemed almost perverse considering the current situation. Adding a touch of color to the wood-paneled walls and mahogany furniture were several potted plants that seemed very sinister in the half-light. An iron-wrought spiral staircase ascended to the Hospital's upper levels. Ten closed doors lead off of the chamber at various points around the room; double doors were set in the far right corner.
Soriah could see the flash of Ledare's armor at the far end of the room, standing before an open door. She had her weapon drawn and her shield raised.
Near the spiral staircase, the ranger was being harassed by one of the diminutive plant men. The creature was standing atop one of the couches and wielding, of all things, a straw broom!
The creature's broom came back and Finian raised the hand-crossbow and fired. As he feared, his lack of experience with the weapon showed, and the bolt shot harmlessly past the plant-man's shoulder.
He made to toss the crossbow aside and raised the dagger in his left hand to strike when the worst occurred: somehow, he managed to stab himself in the opposite arm. Blood began instantly to soak through his shirtsleeve, but he felt more embarrassment than pain. How could he have made such a mistake? It was-
The creature slammed the broom handle into Finian's gut. Excruciating pain exploded in his midsection as the air was forced out of his lungs. His mind came back to the battle at hand. Time enough to worry about mistakes later...
As the plant creature brought the broom back for another swing, Finian stepped in close and buried his dagger into the thing's stomach. A sweet-smelling sap began to spill out as he withdrew the blade. He was stunned to see that the creature seemed to feel no pain from the grievous wound...
So stunned in fact that he failed to avoid the plant man's second swing. Again, it slammed the broom handle into his gut, and again he stabbed the creature as it drew the broom back to swing again. His knife came away dripping with thick black fluid, but the thing didn't fall. It was slowing, but that was all!
And to make matters worse, darkness was beginning to creep in around the edges of the ranger's vision. The room seemed to be swimming slightly and he found himself thinking: "Where in the hell was the Janissary?"
As if to prove that it still had plenty of fight left in it, the plant man struck at Finian's weapon hand with the broom. Pain shot up his arm, and he saw the dirk go spinning from his hand.
It was the last thing he saw before darkness closed in around him, smothering him in its embrace.
Ledare took a step backward out of the room. If she could keep the creature in the doorway, it would be at a strategic disadvantage. It advanced, a knife now visible in its hand, dispelling any doubt about the its hostility.
Ledare looked about trying to think how best to subdue the thing without killing it when suddenly, in a swirl of white fabric, Soriah stepped between her and the plant man.
"One side, Janissary," she said and delivered a fierce punch to the creature's chest. It flailed and took a step backward. "I can handle this thing."
"Don't kill it, Soriah," Ledare said as the creature regained its footing and slashed outward at the Battleguard.
It seemed to be aiming for the woman's right leg, but as it swung, it tripped over the remnants of the chair that it had smashed to pieces earlier. It went sprawling, its knife arm underneath it. As it landed, they both heard a sound like a breaking tree branch.
"I don't think that killing it will be necessary," Soriah said as she advanced on the thing's prone body. "It seems intent on killing itself."
And she went to punch the thing again.
It moved, however, avoiding the blow and slashed outward with the claws on its left hand. The thorns shredded the fabric of her new white dress and bit into Soriah's chest. Her blood began to stain her dress almost instantly.
Screaming in rage and pain, Soriah punched outward again, striking the creature in the head. Sweet-smelling sap began running immediately from a wound that the dagger pommel had opened in its forehead. Stepping into the room, Ledare was surprised that the thing's head was still attached to its body after the thunderous punch.
Using the flat of her sword, Ledare finished the creature with one blow. It fell, immobilized but alive.
She looked at the creature and could see now where it had broken its right arm when it tripped and fell. The forearm had developed a second elbow, and its useless hand hung at a sickening angle.
Seeing the plant man down, Soriah turned and ran from the room.
Her battle lust was still strong within her. And there was still that fool ranger to save.
She examined the wound to her chest as she went. Three parallel lacerations ran diagonally above her left breast. They were hardly life threatening, but were bleeding freely. The front of her dress was soaked crimson with it.
She could tend to them later.
The chamber was dark, and there was no sign of the ranger or the plant man he had been fighting earlier. Soriah moved out into the room slowly, her senses alert to danger.
"How like you, Ranger," she muttered under her breath. "You get this nice poor city girl into trouble and then flee."
She was picking her way toward the spiral staircase where she had seen Finian fighting the broom-wielding monster.
"First demons now plant monsters," she continued muttering. "Let's see if Good Cleric-"
She stopped. Finian was lying on the floor, unmoving. Even in the dark, she could see the spreading stain on the right sleeve of his shirt.
As she approached him, she kicked his dagger with her left foot. Bending down to retrieve it, she could see that it was sticky with the plant creature's itchier. Obviously, the ranger had wounded the thing before it bested him.
The wound to his arm, caused by a knife, was deep, but had already begun to clot. His left hand was sporting a fresh bruise so dark that she could see it even in the semi-darkness.
Working quickly, she felt along his ribs, legs, and neck. Nothing broken.
A quick examination of his abdomen revealed some swelling.
She ripped open his leather jerkin and pulled his tunic free of his breeches. There were two distinct bruises on his pale elf-flesh where he had been struck: once in the stomach, once in the side.
She was ill equipped to deal with these kinds of wounds and rose to her feet rushing back down the hallway to the herbalist shop. Allenna Dean was there, packing pouches and boxes into a small backpack. She looked up, almost shouting, as Soriah stormed in.
"My companion," Soriah said, "has been wounded. He is unconscious with three visible bruises and a knife wound."
Allenna's face snapped into focus and she grabbed bandages and a jar of salve from under the counter. "You too are wounded," she said, squinting at the cuts on Soriah's breast.
"They can wait," the Battleguard replied. "Time enough to tend to me later."
She led the herbalist down the hallway, passed the nurse's desk and into the darkened common room beyond.
"Lights on," Allenna commanded as they entered and magical lanterns set in the ceiling burst into dazzling brilliance.
Soriah blinked. All shadows had been dispelled, and she could see no enemies. Finian looked small and broken in the harsh light.
The herbalist rushed over to him, set down her bandages and salve and began examining him in much the same way that Soriah already had.
The Battleguard looked around the room once more to make sure that no plant creatures endangered the herbalist or her patient. Seeing none, she headed back to the room where she could see Ledare conversing with the man, who she took to be the missing Dr. Alastair.