The Redbeech Poison has started at Outside Arx - Lyceum near Nilanza - Small Islands off the East Coast of the Lyceum.

Following coordinates provided by Pasquale, after weathering a very wet and uncomfortable spring storm, you find the meeting place and take on a fisherman guide who promises to take you to the island occupied by the Redbeech tribe. A half days sailing under his guidance later and you reach the island occupied by the Redbeech tribe. The opening to the harbour space here is almost too narrow for your vessel but with the help of the pilot you squeeze past the guardian rocks and into a long lozenge shaped area which must have been carved out by the same waterfall you see before you. Several crude fishing boats are pulled up onto the sands and several people nearby pause in what they are doing to stare openly at your arrival. Its easy to see the main route that leads up from the water to the settlement proper, and nobody seems to be armed with more than long knives in the vicinity, so you can probably just disembark and walk the rest of the way.

Looking out over the shore, Medeia stands on the ship with an appraising look. She idly adjusts the strap across her body that holds the satchel of adventuring and medical gear she prepared for the trip. She's dressed fairly simply in a tunic, leggings, and her usual shark leathers - but there's a rubicund cuirass hidden under her belted cape, just in case. Her gaze scans to her companions, stopping at Thea. "Ready?"

Drake ends up on boats a lot, but he's not an expert sailor. So he leaves the navigation of these shoals to those who are good at that sort of thing, using his muscle power when needed to help out on the boat, but always waiting for instructions on how to do things properly. Nothing seems to be an immediate danger to the group, so he's also not leading the way, letting those who are more diplomatic or medically inclined be the ones to take point. Drake is ever vigilant, keeping an eye out for signs of trouble. He's bristling with blades, and not concealing them either. But with his helm off for now he somehow doesn't cut a very intimidating figure all the same.

Haakon had rather enjoyed the rain, only donning his steel armor once they drew near to the destination. He leans over the ship's railing with one hand gripping the shrouds for a look at the harbor mouth as the vessel barely fits through the passage. When it's time to go ashore, he hands his harpoon down before climbing into the launch and rowing. A nod to Medeia. "Aye." Shield on his back, harpoon carried in the left hand, and broadsword sheathed at his belt, the Prodigal will remain to the side and a half step back from the more.. skilled communicators.

Thea is leaning against a rail for a moment, checking the contents of her own satchel. Can never check too many times. "Yeah, I think I have everything,"Thea declares. She's dressed in her typical red leathers, dagger close by, kopis at her hip. "I'm a bit antsy to be honest.."

Neilda is not just happier on a ship, she's also /easier/ on a ship, less given to yet-unplumbed depths of inattention, pique, moaning ennui. Her shoulders hang rather than brace, and she does all the fancy things required for good sailing - ropes and masts and sails and winds, navigation - with aplomb. One might expect some sort of decay to the effect when boots hit island dirt, but no - it's someplace new, which perhaps is the appeal of the sea - even the same place is never the same water. "Did he say they're expecting us?" She should have been paying attention, but - see aforementioned unplumbed depths.

The people on the tribe seem very curious about this new arrival and a small crowd has started to gather by the time you have managed to fully disembark and get to the shore. Its obvious they somewhat expected you, because there is little evidence of fear, but they still look rather warily at the more heavily armed members. Some of you go to speak to them and have to struggle as half a dozen women and men start to chatter away at almost the same time in the local shav'arvani dialects. Luckily one of them seems to know arvani proper to a reasonable extent and after a few moments they shush all the others and introduce themselves as "Ene"

The rest of you head up the packed dirt track into the settlement. Its clearly a permanent settlement and they are just as clearly not barbarians. There are a number of garden plots and a central green upon which a small group of scraggly looking sheep are being herded by a girl who cant be more than twelve. Nearby there is a hastily put together pen and behind that wicker wall you hear plaintive bleating. A longhouse style building is decorated with a pair of red beeches and guarded by two spear wielding men wearing leather armor. Unless you approach the longhouse they just give you the typical unhappy warrior stares.

Medeia follows Haakon onto the landing boat, and considers the scattered fishwives and other tribe members nearby. "I... actually don't remember. I hope so?" She looks at Neilda, slightly sheepish. She looks like she wants to go talk to them, and is granted that when they press close and all talk at once. After a few moments, she catches the name of one and smiles, focusing her attention there with ease. "Ene, hello. My name is Medeia. We're here because of the illness." She pauses, looking at the group, and nodding to Thea that she has this in hand, if she wishes to continue on. "I'll catch up."

A beautiful songbird arrives, delivering a message to Drake before departing.

Haakon checks command and leadership at easy. Haakon is successful.

Drake checks charm and diplomacy at easy. Drake is successful.

Medeia checks perception and investigation at normal. Medeia is marginally successful.

Neilda checks perception and investigation at normal. Neilda is marginally successful.

Thea checks perception and investigation at normal. Botch! Thea is simply outclassed. This is monumentally beyond them and the result is ruinous.

Haakon passes a naturally stern eye over the assembled Shavs, adding in his own Shav dialect, "Healers come to tend your sick. Tell us what you are able of the sickness and send word to your chief." He has the manner of one accustomed to being obeyed.

Thea checks intellect and medicine at normal. Thea is marginally successful.

Medeia checks perception and medicine at normal. Medeia is successful.

Bleating. Sheep. To be expected. Not unusual. Guards... not unusual either, but when Drake passes by the spearmen, he gives them a wave and a nod and a look of guileless good cheer.

Maybe it would be worth speaking to them, so Drake greets them first. "Hello there good fellows. We've been sent to look into the sickness situation happening round the town. These ladies here are the doctors-- and I'm just the hired help. We don't want to cause any trouble and, of course, we're here to follow all local customs. But if you could point us in the right direction or give us some information, that'd be appreciated." Of course if this doesn't work, he'll move on and try the same line on someone who seems similarly authoritative. But it's clear he's being honest about it.

"Hello,"Thea greets with a slight smile. "That would be me. The medic,"before she introduces herself. "Lady Thea Malvici." That said, Thea's gold-flecked green eyes are skimming the village, taking in the details. Of well--just about anything. And everything she can.

Neilda wanders over to eye the pen, reaches for the rope lashing it together - light in color, not yet colored with dozens or hundreds of soak-mold-dry cycles. Instinct suggests not actually touching it, so... she doesn't. She turns around, hails a young person that, at least to her sensibilities, moves at the speed of slug sex. She flashes a smile anyway. "This is new?" she asks. A brief conversation ensues - it's a quarantine pen, which makes her sidestep in a dramatic fashion. "Have... the kids been playing with the sheep or something? Where are they all?"

Down by the shore Haakon's calm and commanding words help to bring the small crowd under control. One or two of them wave towards the village when he asks for the leader, attempting to pantomine that they are expected, whilst the rest are mostly gossiping amongst themselves in their nearly familiar language. Ene tells the two of them "She expects, yes? We wait for help." She bobs her head in an eager nod at Medeia's question. "Many sick. Get weak. Shake. Die."

The other group make their way through the town, taking in what details they can on the way, and finally get ushered into the longhall by one of the guards as the other frowns in dissaproval. Inside the hall is a large firepit with benches all around and a large chair covered in sheephide that is clearly meant for the leader. Upon the chair is an older woman in her sixties with the lines that you would expect from someone in her position. She stands, tense, but something about the way Drake has chosen to approach causes her to react again. Her own Arvani is pretty good. "Welcome. We have been waiting for you. Please." she gestures at a roasting sheep over the hearth. "Share our food so we might be friends."

Initially the young shepherdess that Neilda flags down just stares at her with her eyes widened like saucers. Then she rather shyly whispers "Sheep sick." The word she uses for sick isn't actually sick but its close enough that you can easily guess what it means, especially combined with the pantominey gestures the girl uses for emphasis.

Medeia turns her gaze to several of the women as Haakon and Ene both speak. She turns and really studies the shore, brow knitting together in concern. Finally, she turns back to Ene. "Is the illness primarily affecting your young?" The looks up at Haakon and leans in to murmur to him, "There should be more young people here, shouldn't there? There are too many boats ashore right now." As she turns back, she notes the two smallest women have a slight shake. "Ene, can you tell me how long this has been happening, is it related to anything that has been eaten or new to the island?"

Haakon nods to the directions, muttering back to Medeia, "Mayhap." Otherwise, once the basics are being communicated, he is content to go silent a d met the professional speak with the local on matters of health, while he scans their surroundings with a warrior's eye.

"Sheep... sick how long?" Neilda asks (how long: Neilda tracks the arc of sun through the sky, looks inquisitive.) Then she's turning and shading her eyes to find Thea. There's a long arc of her arm to get attention, a hand waving - 'no no' - to her. She probably didn't even hear the food offer, but sheep cooking has a pretty distinctive scent.

Drake nods to the woman, accepting her greeting, and replying with a good natured smile on his face. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'm Drake Wyvernheart, a knight, but the Ladies are the medical experts, so I'll mostly keep to myself and let my companions ask the important questions." Any time there's food... he's interested, and it would be rude to refuse, but he's also not going to be a glutton about it. He has himself a bit of roast on a platter, cutting it free with the nearest knife handy, and then has himself a seat on the ground by the hearth.

"The small, yes." Ene says to Medeia. "The smallest were sick first. Not all die. Some stay home. Rest. Recover." She shakes her head, frowns a little, and then says "No. Not new. But." One of the women near her hisses in warning and Ene blushes and looks to the floor. Silent. The other woman says "Bevelle wait." and points to the village path.

Thea walks quietly around town, really paying attention to the villages. As they finally get to the longhall and greeted by an older woman, Thea is surprised by her well--her good Arvani. "You speak Arvani so well,"going over to Drake, Thea murmurs quietly. "The people here are less--healthy? The people I've looked at, they are all lacking energy and I think a gust of wind could take them away. The ones on the shore didn't look at all this badly...Their hands? There's a palsey.." She too tries to look for Neilda. Where the hells did she go?

The shepherdess blinks a few times at Neilda's question, seeming unsure of how to answer. Eventually she starts counting it off on her fingers. One. two. three - Nine. Its at this point she holds up her hands to show Neilda the answer. "Sheep Sick." She holds her fingers up again. "This many day."

"People sick how many days?" Neilda asks, after a nod - that's useful. She doesn't know why, in particular, not from a medical perspective - but she surely knows that establishing a sequence of events is. She beckons along, heading for the longhouse. A finger-wiggle wave for the guards, and she peers in. "Thea? Drake?"

Drake listens to Thea, nods... but then tries the sheep. Hopefully it's not diseased sheep, but he will probably find that out pretty quickly... and he gives Neilda a wave, as she walks in. A quick swallow. "Lady Neilda Saik," he says, introducing her as she walks in to the longhouse to meet the older woman. "Also here looking into things with us."

"Thank you." Bevelle, head of the Redbeech, tells Drake and Thea. "Sometimes those like you visit. I'm always pleased to talk and learn what we can about the world." She seems relieved when Drake accepts the offer of hospitality. "You are the medic that I was told would come?" She asks Thea with curiosity. "We have had many illnesses over the years but nothing has ever confused our medics like this. First people get tired and lose energy, appetite, and strength. Then they start to shake, first in the hands, and then it progresses until they fall shaking. We are overwhelmed."

The shepherdess wrinkles up her face at Neilda's question before starting the same counting pantomine. This time she holds up six.

Eyes flicking to the two smaller women in the assembled fishwives, Medeia's expression grows deeply concerned and she bites her lip in thought. She meets Ene's eyes briefly, recognizing that the 'mob' will prevent further questioning. Lightly, the fingertips of one hand touch Haakon's arm to get his attention and she tilts her head in the direction Thea and Drake went, indicating she's ready to head that direction, before taking one last look around and nodding her head to Ene. "Thank you." She moves along the path to the longhouse to find the others.

Haakon gives a long look to the fisherfolk who had shushed Ene. A short nod to Medeia once he looks aside, and off toward the long house they go.

Thea waves over to Neilda, hearing her voice. Bevelle however gains her attention, and she annswers,"I am yes. I'm Lady Thea Malvici. Lady Medeia Said is another medic as well." Finding a seat, the Malvic makes herself a bit comfortable, asking,"How long has this been going on? I noticed when we arrived that those on the shore didn't--look the same. They looked a bit--healthier."

The shepherdess is the winner of one (1) set of so-nice-of-you-to-help danger-dimples before Neilda absconds to the company of her friends of course. It's rude to interrupt; she waves to the very hospitable host, taking her time, and listens to the answer given. Nice to know if people start from the truth, you know. She glances at the plate of food Drake has gotten, makes a face. "Nice to meet you," she greets.

Bevelle seems unsure how to answer Thea's second question but the first she answers with. "The first person collapsed six days ago." As each newcomer enters she waves them towards the cooking meat. "It warms my heart to see you so eager to help us." she says "But this must have been a gruelling journey." A young woman steps forward from where she had been lurking in the shadows and offers. "I show you your cottage and the sick house please."

"The sheep hav been sick longer, though," Neilda supplies, as she closes the space. "Nine days." She considers a moment, then says: "Anything different happen before that? Before the sheep, I mean." The first is told to Thea - the latter, asked their hosts.

"Sick house would be good," Drake says, after he's finished testing out the food, anyway. He looks at Thea. "Might get a chance to examine them in person. As long as you think it doesn't spread, anyway." Though knowledge of how disease spreads is not something he deeply understands.

"No." Bevelle tells Neilda. "Only the seasonal change kind lady. As far as I know."

Making their way into the longhouse, Medeia leads Haakon past the guards and towards Thea, Drake, and Neilda. Though she offers a few wan smiles in passing, her expression is serious, even grim - disconcerting look on the normally bubbly Saik twin. Upon entering, she notes Drake... eating. What the /fuck/, Drake? At a time like this? She shakes her head as she steps close to Thea, stopping to make introductions. "Hello, I am Harlequin Medeia Saik, a medic, and this is Lord Haakon Eswynd... not a medic." She listens to what Neilda says, lips pressing thin. "Hm." She looks to Thea ostly, as she speaks, "Two of the women, the smallest among them, down at the shore have a palsy in their hands. It seems to be affecting the young... There seems to be nothing new that's been introduced to the island." Her eyes dart to Bevelle. "But. There was a but that I couldn't get more information about."

Thea eyes Drake as he takes a bite of the food. "What have the sheep been eating,"she asks, though she nods in agreement about the sick house. "I'd like to see that, yes. I'd like to see the patients." Upon seein Haakon and Medeia, she gives them a wave. "I noticed the same palsy but--the folks here seem a bit more--malnurished than those we saw when we came ashore...,"Thea says a bit confused.

Drake frowns a bit at the 'but' part of Medeia's comment. "...They have nothing to lose from not telling us, considering that we're here to help." That to Medeia. But then, to Bevelle, he adds, "Even if it's something you think we aren't likely to believe."

Haakon makes a point of taking a single bite from the offered roast mutton, he mutters to Medeia, "Hospitality. It's proof we mean them no harm, nor they us."

Drake checks charm and diplomacy at normal. Drake is successful.

Bevelle looks dubious when Drake makes that entreaty but she still offers an answer. "Ene, and some of the others, believes the Seawell tribe cast a curse upon us many, many, years ago."

Neilda makes a head-tilty dubious face - "There's an idea," she says. "Why do thy think the Seawell tribe cast a curse on you? Is there like a..." a round gesture with her hand, vague. "Conflict?" Such diplomacy. Wow. "Or did they see them do something?"

"I'd believe that," Drake says, nodding to Bevelle and not seeming skeptical at all. "I've been under a curse before, but it was a minor thing really. This seems a bit worse." He sets aside the platter. "Thank you again for being so hospitable to us."

"That." Bevelle says "Would be a long story."

Haakon wonders flatly, "Sheep been grazing any place new, before taking sick?"

With a long look at Bevelle after saying 'long story,' Medeia draws out a chair and sits, settling in. "I'd like to hear it, please. It may be nothing, but usually... nothing is /nothing/."

Neilda nods sidelong at Medeia. "Right," she agrees. "And even if it's not a curse - knowing might point us the right way." A smile, because dimples are the gift that keep on giving.

Thea is climbing to her feet, Thea unsurprisingly says,"Im going to go head out to see their sick. See their symptoms and such myself. Get a better look." Looking at the twins and those staying, she says,"Let me know what you find out, yes?"

After Bevelle pleads fatigue and promises to make herself available in an hour or so for the tale of the Seawell curse you are all politely, but firmly, encouraged to go to the cottage to spend a bit of time to gather your thoughts and prepare for the evening. Nobody is trying to keep you there so you can roam about as soon as you are ready.

Thea, escorted, by Drake and the young woman from the longhouse, discovers that the sickhouse is actually a pair of cottages that have been set aside for quarantine of a sort. Its immediately obvious that the healers are overwhelmed, unable to care for as many people as they have here already. They are extremely grateful for Thea's presence and share enough information with her to help her make some sort of diagnosis. Nothing beats Observation however. Many of the patients are fitting so violently that Drake is asked to hold them down and keep them from hurting themselves more than once. It seems his presence is appreciated too.

After the brief break at the cottage Haakon is taken to meet a grizzled old shepherd who promises to show him the sheeps spring and winter pastures since the sheep were moved to the green only after they began to show signs of sickness. He spits a lot but seems a solid earthy sort and Haakon's own background makes it relatively easy to communicate.

Neilda and Medeia on the other hand are left alone for at least two hours before the girl finally comes to escort her back to the longhouse. When they arrive they find that it is something of a gathering now with many people, both young and old, sitting around looking as if they are eager for the coming story hour.

Thea checks intellect and medicine at hard. Thea is marginally successful.

Drake checks strength and medicine at normal. Drake fails.

Haakon checks perception and agriculture at easy. Haakon marginally fails.

Strength... Drake has that. But medical knowledge, not so much. He'll do his best to hold patients down, but has to rely on Thea's know-how to make any headway here. It's not that he's clumsy, but he clearly doesn't know quite the best way to do it. "... Things like this make me wish my brother was here," he says, as he's clearly struggling with a patient. "...He doesn't always have the best bedside manner, but he can hold down a patient with the best of them--" One patient fits wildly enough to sock Drake right in the eye... and he doesn't see that coming, reeling back with a wince. If it's the only combat damage he'll take today, it's fine, but he may have to explain where that sucker punch came from later. "Ugh. Vouch for me that I got that in training, would you?" Still, he's at least able to hold one down so that the healers can get a potion in, despite taking a blow or two from it.

Neilda spends her time at the cottage restlessly poking about, establishing - like any halfway decent explorer - a vague ethnography, gathering what bits from the guest appointments she can infer about the people hosting them. It'll be something to take back to Pathfinder Lou, demonstrate her earnestness, maybe gain some status with the Explorers. Maybe - who knows! - they might find something salient, markers of trade or craft or lifestyle that would otherwise be overlooked.

Haakon trudges about with the shepard, muttering back and forth. He shares a hit of whiskey at one point. His eye is out of its element, and unless the old shepard spots something amiss, Haakon will trudge back after a long walk about the forage grounds without anything of substance to share. "Found some grass," he grunts.

Bevelle turns out to be a pretty talented storyteller as she weaves a story about the passionate love that once bound a young, and naive, Bevelle of the Redbeech to the young, and charming, Rodal of the Seawell. She talks of the whispered dreams, the hopes and the passion, and how her heart broke when she realised that Rodal was, in fact, a terrible, terrible, person. She speaks of finding a new love and how Rodal came to their wedding and how he ruined the event with his words of hatred and spite. "I curse you" she says at Rodal's part. "to grief, and your people, to wither away in sickness." She sighs softly at that memory and then says "A year later my husband was bitten by a snake and died."

Thea smirks over at Pasquale as she goes to tend help. "I'll make sure to be the best--liar I can." Thea's a terrible liar folks. Drake may be screwed. Taking her time to examine each of the patients, and there are many, she is meticulous, careful. Thea leans forward, studying him quietly. "I don't--huh." She begins touching him, the patient. "It's--some sort of built up poison. It's why it's hitting the smallest the worse, why they're suffering. The symptoms esculate over time." Thea moves on to the next patient, stepping a bit back from one that is a bit sicker than the rest. "Hey Drake, can you come here,"and starts to have him move limbs about for her. "The sheep getting sick, I think it may be something in the ground..something they're eating."

Haakon is showed the pastures by the obviously knowledgeable shepherd. He explains how they went over every inch of the pastures after the sheep started to sicken and that they've only gotten a little better since they were moved. He takes Haakon to a lake that feeds into the river and waterfall and explains that the sheep favor this drinking ground. Then he shows Haakon where the first animal got sick. There doesn't seem to be anything obvious that Haakon can see as causing the illness but the shepherd is adamant that there werent any weird plants and that he's never seen their illness before. "And i'm old" he ends with that. "I've seen everything."

Neilda checks intellect and occult at easy. Neilda is marginally successful.

Medeia listens attentively, relatively dazzled by the skilled story weaver, but still listening for the details. The snake, coincidental, likely. However, she has /questions/. "Is ROdal yet alive, or is anyone who might carry out his vengenace? Have any Seawall folks been spotted around recently?"

"The others did look into it, so maybe that's part of it." Drake looks at Thea, and... continues to struggle to hold limbs down. "I just thought it might be rude to refuse it," he explains to her, making brief eye contact... before this time, he dodges a flailing limb. He's been working on his dodge skills.

"You must be /incredibly/ patient if he is," Neilda says. "Somebody showed up at my wedding saying that kind of thing -" well, she doesn't elaborate. She peers. "It is /really/ specific. Wither away in sickness." She glances at the door. "Did he do anything else? Or just - say those words?"

"He rules the Seawell." Bevelle tells Medeia. "As I rule the Redbeech. He has not forgiven me yet." A sad smile is given to Neilda. "He would love for me to justify a war. I had no choice but to bite my tongue." A shake of her head at Neilda's final question. "Not in my sight." She looks to a watchman nearby when the question of the Seawell being around is asked. "No more than usual." that watchman says "But the Seawell only live across the strait. I mighta missed one."

Haakon returns to the long hall after giving the old shepard a second hit of alcohol. He rejoins the Saik twins in the longhouse afterward. "If there's aught foul in water or grazing, I couldn't find it," he mutters to the Saiks.

Medeia checks perception and empathy at hard. Medeia is marginally successful.

"If they're so certain of victory in war, why bother with a curse?" Neilda asks. "What's stopping him from waging war? There are plenty who do it without much justification at all." Passing familiarity with war: ok, fine, says the cant of her head: you've earned your keep.

"His people need a reason." Bevelle says to Neilda. "We are fisherfolk and farmers. What need do we have for war?"

She starts to look tired again, visibly wilting in her seat, and a quick glance outside shows that night is rapidly descending. People start to disperse with Ene hanging back briefly in an obvious desire to talk to Medeia. The cottage is warm, with the fire already set, and its time to decide what you will do in the morning.

Ene, during that hurried conversation, tells Medeia that something happens every spring." There is more too but it is mostly just fear and angst about the curse. Something which she clearly believes in.

When Medeia asks Ene what she means by 'something' happening every spring Ene starts talking about a series of sicknesses and minor disasters. First, she hurriedly explains, the clan leader got bitten by a rare snake, then the sheep got scrapie, then there was a contaminated batch of wine, then little jon got stung by a whole nest of hornets. Bevelle used to have some horses but they all got colic and died... and on and on it continues over the course of Ene's lifespan and beyond. It seems they have had a terrible time of it during the last thirty or so years.

In the hospital Thea and the medics start treating the patients as if they have been poisoned and the least sick of them immediately show signs of improvement. Its definitely some sort of poisoning but where its coming from? That is still a mystery.

Whilst Thea and Drake burn the midnight oil trying to save the sick, Neilda, Medeia and Haakon decide to go on a moonlit expedition to search the shores for signs that anyone has been sneaking in and out of the area. Luckily its a bright night.

The shoreline is a craggy, difficult, struggle to navigate at this time, often riddled with small caves and little alcoves. You can see the island the watchman mentioned lurking like a dark shadow on the horizon, just across a strait.

Medeia checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Medeia is marginally successful.

Thea starts mixing up some medicines. Charcoal and a few other cures. Dragging Drake with her, she smiles a bit. "Come one, help me give this to them,"as she also gives it to the others helping. This goes on for what seems like hours. It IS hours, and Thea is getting tired. But she keeps watch, dividing the cures.

Neilda checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Neilda marginally fails.

Drake assists Thea, as much as he can, though with no expertise, though he does learn a thing or two about the curatives by watching her at work. When it seems like things are calmed down here, he'll turn in for some rest... though he does have a black eye to show for it from that earlier mishap. He's surprised to learn in the mean time that the others have taken off, but... every work here is important.

Haakon checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Haakon is marginally successful.

Haakon checks perception and sailing at normal. Haakon is successful.

Neilda checks perception and survival at normal. Neilda is marginally successful.

Medeia checks perception and medicine at normal. Medeia is marginally successful.

Neilda has slipped down enough crumbly outcrops of rocks that she doesn't scream or make a huge racket - just a lot of 'oof' - 'ah' - and swinging her arms to try and arrest her fall. The rock is too crumbly for her axe to get purchase in, so in the drink she goes. All is quiet three seconds, and then she surfaces, sputters a second. "Holy tits that's cold," she says, treading water. Ugh, swimming in leathers is the worst. At least they fit properly. She starts swimming toward anywhere that isn't just another gravel slip-n-slide, watching the cliff and - "Hey!" A... whisper shout. "Deia. Haakon. Are you... there?" She starts swimming toward the cave, watching for signs she was heard. By... friends or not, yaknow.

It's dark, and Medeia is stepping carefully along as she keeps her eyes peeled for anything that might be contributing to the illness at the village. OOh. But that's.... useful. /Pluck/. And that. /Pluck/. And... "Fuck, Nel!" She's too slow to catch her sister as she goes down, but manages to keep herself from acting rashly and tumbling after. She looks and finds a way down to help Neilda up.

Haakon had eyed a hilly stretch of shore which a raider's practiced eye might find suitable for discreet landing. He'd pointed it out to the twins, and climbed carefully over the rocks, only to see Nel scramble and kerplunk. There's a wincing moment, before he hears her ask, "Aye, we are. Fuck, you Southrons really will go swimming anywhere." He cautiously picks a path down with Medeia.

"I'm /fine/," Neilda says. "There's a cave. Scuff marks. Like from a -" all this talking is hard while swimming; she flips on her back. "Boat. Keel."