House Boromar

Devlin watched as the afflicted thug made an attack at one of his shipmates. Somehow the man sensed that Rothaide had the spice medicine to cure the plague. The veins on his sweating neck and hands were black, as if it were clogged with inky dark blood.

As the man drew his baton, Rourke instinctively traced a magical sigil, attempting to protect the elf matron from the thug's onslaught. A small dust storm began to form and swirl around the afflicted man, forming into a large desert python.

The Lyrandar captain watched as Rourke wove another sigil, closing the summoning spell and ordering the sand serpent to protect Rothaide. Despite the man's illness, he was able to evade the python's attack.

"Enough!" Devlin drew out the Staff of Gorlband and pointed its barbed tip at the man. The magical elven staff began to glow in an eerie sapphire light. "Cease this attack or face an even quicker death."

"Don’t be funny." The man snarled as he swayed his baton, keeping the desert python at bay. "I don't care if you kill me."

"The Lyrandar fleet has the spice," Devlin replied. "You can still make it to the outpost and get the cure from them."

The thug laughs upon hearing the Lyrandar Captain's offer. “I don’t need your medicinal spice half-elf! I know it’s on you. If you’re not going to give it, then I guess we just have to take it.”

The thug lets out a cry and the veins around his face start to pulse making them appear thicker and darker. More of the veins appear on the exposed skin of his arms and neck. He takes on a crazed look and attacks the dustform serpent with wild swings. As if powered by unnatural strength, his blows taking chunks out of the summoned construct.

At the same time, three figures jump from the rooftops of the buildings around them and bull rushes the riders off of their horses.

==========================

Rothaide's mind was racing. She stares in shock at what seemed the living dead. Like zombies craving for living flesh, they surrounded hastily the crew of ravenstorm. It brought back the horrors she witnessed at the Englantine. She understood their desperation. She tries to pacify them. Holding up both her hands, the symbol of the mother goddess dangling openly. It twinkled brightly as it catches the afternoon sun.

"Please ... my children!" She begged for calm. Her voice filled with complete understanding towards these poor folks who have had to deal with the plague first hand. Who have had to deal with death and the suffering. "I implore all of you .."

"Calm yourselves. The mother goddess and salvation is upon us. We have brought the cure. We have come for all of you." Her voice steady and clear. She glares affectionately at each one. Hoping that reason would get thru them.

You brought this upon us didnt you. DIDNT YOuu!! the captain of the Eglantine amidst the others of its crew surrounded Rothaide. Their cold voices reverberated in her mind.

"It is being redistributed as we speak .. " she holds out a hand to the nearest living dead. A sincere invitation for a peaceful resolution. "Please. Mother Boldrei's love know no bound. We come for you, my child .. ".

One of them responds but it was attacking. Realizing her naiveté. She falls back [ooc: Tumble?]. She didn't want to partake in adding more injury to these plague victims. It was the plague. It has taken over their minds and spirit where the Mother Goddess is not able to reach them. They do not know what their doing.

She studies her position. And memorized her path out of the melee. To prevent unnecessarily causing harm to/from the crew and the inflicted both, Rothaide fell back far enough to safely pray to the Mother. It was a simple prayer that renders the people in a small vicinity practically blind. Jets of mists appeared out of nowhere centered on the priestess. obscuring the whole area. [ooc: Cast obscuring mists)

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