"The Burning Plague" by Miguel Duran (WotC Free Adventure) - Part 2
After leaving the tower, the group make good time through the plains and low hills that lay to the north of Amberdale. It is only on the fourth day of their journey, as their route starts to climb into the mountains, that their passage becomes significantly slowed: and more than a little nerve-wracking. For, although their sturdy cart horse is far from temperamental, it demonstrates an unnerving tendency to plod in a straight line, regardless of the twists and turns of the mountainside road. More than once, a long drop over the edge is averted only by frantic yelling and tugging on the horse's bridle.
"Can't you do something with the dumb beast?" Mantreus complains to Stormstrider, "You're supposed to be the nature boy, here."
"I'm a ranger, not a teamster."
It is not long before only the currently designated driver - a position that is reluctantly shared by all - remains in the cart. The others prefer the safety of their own two feet. This also proves a more comfortable option for purposes of warmth: it is bitterly cold in the mountains, with occasional flurries of sleet or snow, and the exertion helps keep away the chill.
Eventually, the group comes in sight of their destination. Duvik's Pass proves to be much larger than Amberdale, with three or four times as many houses. Despite this, the roads appear almost empty, with very few people in sight. Given the quality of driving of the cart, of course, this is probably a good thing - anyone on the streets would have had to consider themselves in an unsafe environment, not to mention the impression it would give them of the Company's capabilities!
Seeing a lone guard standing on one of the street corners, the adventurers pull up the cart some twenty yards beyond him (it was supposed to be next to him, but the whole fine control thing still isn't working for them ...).
"Mornin' folks." The guard greets them with a nonplussed look. "I fear you be pickin' a bad time t'come t'Duvik's Pass."
"The damn horse didn't kill us." Mantreus grumbles, "And neither will the plague."
"The Church of Pelor sent us, my good man." The Padre addresses the guard, "We're here to investigate the foul plague that afflicts your fair town."
Behind the priest, the others exchange looks. It seems the Padre's in one of his portentous moods, again.
"That's great news, that!" the guard beams, "Welcome! You all be priests of the Church of Pelor, then? That's a lot more help'n than we be expectin' -"
"Uh - no." the Padre interjects, "Actually, none of us follow that church."
"Oh." The nonplussed look returns, "Then what be you doin' here?"
"We're adventurers." The Padre swells his chest, "Card-carrying members of the guild, every one of us."
"Aye?" the guard seems underwhelmed, "Well if the Church o' Pelor sent you, I'm sure you'll do well enough."
"Perhaps you could help us with some information." Mantreus interjects, "Tell us something of the plague itself, perhaps. You don't seem ill."
"I'm still well, though most o' the town is sick." The guard agrees, "Fortunately there's not been too many death from it, at least yet. A few of the elder folk have passed on, though."
"So why are you okay?" Twinkle asks, pointedly.
"Well, Father Samual - he's the Priest hereabouts - Father Samual worked out that the sickness was in the water, y'see. And he's been usin' the powers o' Pelor to cleanse as much o' the water as he can. It's nowhere near enough for the whole town, o' course, so most have to make do with the bad stuff, but he keeps as many of us guards healthy as he can. Plus the healers, those that are helping him tend the sick."
"And himself, of course." Twinkle mutters.
"Well ... aye." The guard looks confused, "If Father Samual got sick, so would t'few of us who aren't, and where would the town be then?"
"Couldn't you just use another source of water?" Anastria folds her arms and glowers at the guard, looking as if she suspects him of personally poisoning the supply.
"All the streams here'bouts come from the same source, accordin' to Father Samual." The guard nods his agreement with the claim, "At least - when he tested 'em, he found they were all infected, so he says they must."
"Do you know the source?" the Padre asks, leaning forward.
"Aye - there's a spring beneath the silver mine, north o' town."
"So has anyone been to the mine to see what's causing the problem?"
"It's near a full day's walk to get there." The guard explains, "Anyone who went would have to take all the good water with them, and that would leave the rest of us t'get sick. And there'd be no-one to protect the town. That's why we sent a message to the Church. Or at least, Father Samual did. He used some kind o' magic, on account of us being quarantined, by then. We needed more priests, y'see, to cleanse the water so there would be enough of us who were well to go to the mine and to look after things here. But they sent you, instead."
"Sounds like we'll need to look at this mine." The Padre murmurs, receiving answering nods from the rest of the group. "Can we get the cart up there?"
"No' the way you drive." The guard smirks at the memory, then sobers up, "If you do go up, though, keep an eye out f'the miners. There were over twenty men up there when the sickness started, and they've not been heard from. Father Samual fears they must all be sick, as well."
"Father Samual seems like the man to talk to." Mantreus observes, "Where can we find him? And is there somewhere we can leave our horse? The inn, maybe?"
"You'll most likely find him at the church." The guard advises, "It's a small stone buildin', over on the eastern edge o' town. Look for the bronze sun on the spire."
"And the horse?" Anastria prompts him.
"Well, the inn's closed due to the sickness - the innkeep's ill, and it wasn't like he had much custom, in any case - but y'might try the Doverspeak House. Mister Doverspeak's got stables that he'll likely let y'use, if he's capable o' takin' visitors."
"Is he sick?" Twinkle asks.
"No, that's not the problem ..." the guard pauses, "The thing is, the sickness is in the water, aye? Well, Mister Doverspeak don't drink a lot of that, if y'get my meanin'.".
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