Saving Sutherland- The Sickness of Song

Chapter 1

The Meeting (Fedren) 

"And thus our spies got information that the Republic of Harath will soon release a plague in the south of our nation. This is why we've summoned you here to face this impending crisis with us" Councilman Piman droned on. The other healers in this hall were sitting at round tables placed throughout the room in groups of five. It seemed to be a repurposed ballroom. Piman must be loaded to have a ballroom this big in his home, what a waste. As my eyes wander the hall I notice human guards are stationed at the edge of the room and concentrated near the door. I could probably make a break for it if I have to. My gaze moves from the hall down to my ring, fingers tapping impatiently on the pristine white tablecloth.

"Why did they even bother sending the invitation if they would spend the first half an hour recapping it?" I thought at Shimmer. 

"Hey, don't be that way Fedren! They gave a bit more context with the spy stuff." Shimmer responds in my head.

Looking around at my table, the only ones paying attention are a red dragonborne in intricately detailed plate and a tan elf looking intently through crystal-like glass fixed right in front of his eyes fixed with wire. Both were staring intently at the councilman on the stage. The only other human at the table kept her hands busy joining rings of mail together while taking a seemingly endless supply of rings from a small bag at her waist. Her half-plate was exquisitely engraved, clearly the work of a skilled craftsman. As I examine her armour I notice her steal a glance towards me. The half-asleep Orc had his head leaning against his staff coated in an impossibly soft-looking moss. My eyes move back to my ring. 

"Look at that! The majority at this table agree, so obviously, I'm in the right."

"Well, I'm here, too, so it's a tie. Unless" she continues in a fake, tearful sob, "you don't you count me?"

I chuckle and respond "My goddess you are simply too far above us to even consider counting." I think to her before we both snicker.

"Well done, passing my test lowly mortal. For this task, I shall reward you by allowing you to serve me for the rest of your pitiful existence." I can't help but chuckle aloud at her feigned pompousness. 

"Something particularly funny about a disease about to kill thousands?" Hisses the elf. All at the table all but the orc look my way. 

"No… I just thought of something funny…" I mumble shamefully. I get one more glare before the elf wheels around towards the orc.

"And you! Sleeping through something so important!" He growls before tearing away the orc's staff resulting in a resounding thunk as the orc's head hits the table. He quickly shoots into an upright position. The entire hall of various healers turn towards us for a moment before the chairman resumes and their attention shifts back toward the front. The elf, cheeks red as sunrise hands the staff, now devoid of moss, back to the orc. He snatches it back before it grows a branch with a few coffee berries and pops them into his mouth before the growth retracts back into the staff. I make eye contact with the other human and see she is barely holding back a laugh as well. The dragonborne seems to leak some smoke from their nostrils before returning their attention to the front. As I return my own back to the stage I glance down and ask Shimmer for a recap.

"In short, they know a plague is going to start in the sparsely populated south and know nothing about the symptoms or how it spreads so we will go under the assumption it is miasma-based. They will deploy us healers to wipe out the sickness before the miasma spreads. Also, just because I'm paying attention doesn't mean it's fine for you to space out." She pouts.

"You're the best Shimmer!" I deflect "That's a damn good plan! Any downsides?"

She sighs "Just two: it cost them quite the sum to hire all these impressive healers, but it's literally a merchant republic, so they're definitely good for it. The only other thing is we have to wait for riders to come back from where they are stationed to alert us."

"So it'll have a little time to spread?"

"Yep, it's not like there are enough of us to station in every little town anyway."

The councilman mentions a detail that drags my focus back up font. "For the remainder of this crisis, you will be in a group with the others at your table"

Looking at the others again, we seemed to have a pretty well-balanced group. Judging based on their armor, the human and dragonborne are probably wielders of Divinity. Judging by the staff, the Orc uses Worldsoul, while Elves are pretty well known for Magic. With me as a warlock, an archetype of Divinity, we have a bit of a lean toward the Divine arts, but what else would you expect from healers? Besides, fighting a plague is a great way to earn some believers. Payment or no, they'd get Divinity users lining up out the door for a chance like this, so why are they paying so much? Wait…

Piman finally got to the fine print of the contract: "This is the heart of the issue: we cannot have knowledge of a plague that will soon be extinguished, affecting the business or the hearts of our citizens, so you cannot proselytize and cannot mention fighting the plague as an accomplishment of your faith." Chairs screech as about a third of the room stands up. 

"Wait, wait! You will be compensated accordingly! Wait!" Those who stood began attempting to file out of the room, murmuring to each other in displeasure. With this level of volume, it was probably fine to talk to the others at my table. 

"So you two in it for the money then?" I ask the other Divinity wielders. 

"Yep," the woman responds, "need some new materials if I want to make anything near as good as that ring you've been staring at this whole time." My hand slides off the table and into my lap. The dragonborne responds in a deep, reverberating, almost purring voice, " My faith is in the dragon god Bahamut, so I did not come to spread it, to begin with. My oath lies in Justice, so of course I would stand against the despicable slaughtering of innocents." 

The orc chimes in, "Paying debts and a sick that can be released? It's not natural." 

"You mean an epidemic?" The elf cuts in Snidley.

"Sure, but a sick is a sick. Why did you use a big word when you knew what I meant?"

The elf pauses for a second before turning to me. "To answer your question, money isn't particularly concerning. I joined to help people. And I'm not about to let this abominable display of mass death driven by politics play out without doing a thing."

"Name's Fedren, by the way, and you all?" I ask the rest of the group.

The woman replies, "Rafinella Felloys Brigannon," Shimmer sharply inhales," but y'all can call me Rafi."

I look down at my lap "What's wrong? Do you recognize her name or something?" 

She takes a few seconds, probably trying to decide exactly how much to tell me.

"The name is… familiar." She says hesitantly "We can talk more about this later."

My gaze returns upwards to find Rafi intently looking at me. She seems to want to say something but decides against it. The orc interrupts this awkward pause, "I am Kosti the Roamer" 

The dragonborne states their name next, "Zozarshu Ninth Quelius" 

The elf caps us off, "My name is Anlyth," before murmuring something that was drowned out by Councilman Piman's desperate attempt to get those leaving to return to their seats. Only a few do while the rest each sign a contract of binding to ensure their silence before leaving, cinders scattering near the entrance.

Infuriated and bewildered by the healers' decision, he continues, "Continuing, as such, we will not be quarantining unless absolutely necessary. With those remaining, we should be able to extinguish this plague before it spreads to any major villages or towns."

Anlyth raises his hand before standing "Sir, I really must protest. Quarantine is the most effective method of stopping an outbreak by far. A disease can rip through a country if people continue traveling between towns and conducting business as usual. The plague could be on the capital's doorstep by the end of the month if we do not institute measures against it." 

Piman snaps back, "We are well aware of the risks. That is why we hired all of you. No further interruptions please." 

"But!"

"No. Further. Interruptions."

Anluth sinks back into his seat. 

"Now, hand out the contracts"

Goblin servants come by handing the parchment to every healer left in the hall. I examined the contract carefully, tracing the lines with my hand so I could talk to Shimmer in a less conspicuous way.

"Any shot you can break this once I sign it?"

"Hmm, it doesn't seem like it; you must have a pretty strong impression these can't ever be broken"

"Yeah… I suppose I do…"

The terms boil down to being unable to talk about the plague and, to an extent, being unable to proselytize or implement quarantine measures and agreeing to do our best to deal with this crisis. However, the conditions can be overturned by a majority vote of the council members. The contract also ensured our generous compensation once the job was done. Once signed, the contracts burst into flame before disappearing altogether. We were dismissed to the all expenses paid inn to be on standby until a rider returned. Among a bustling crowd, I looked down at my ring. "Sorry I didn't consult you on this Shimmer. This job was supposed to be for you but we can't even get any followers out of it"

Shimmer chuckles "It's fine, you know I would have agreed to help regardless. Plus we can use that money for charity work later so it's not that big of a deal. I know how you can get when it comes to illnesses and I'm more than happy to help." 

"Thanks Shimmer" I say aloud

"You can count on me" she replies. I imagine she'd have a soft smile.