Monster Party Novella: But what happens when the gears, get sick of the machine?
Chapter Two: We've got the fire, who's got the matches?
"TAKE OFF THAT MASK THIS VERY INSTANT!" Shouted an aggrieved voice across the dance-hall.
People turned to see who exactly was being addressed and Florence Bastien soon realized that she was the subject of the tirade.
A man(?) with brown hair dressed in a fine black cloak began to advance upon her. Much like Florence his face was entirely hidden behind his mask except for his eyes which were blue.
Also just like Florence his mask was in no way based upon any sort of animal, be it real or mythological. No, this man wore a stylized steel gray cog for a mask.
"Our host left it out for his guests." Florence pointed out, unsure why the leaf mask such cause such a stir.
"No he didn't!" The cog faced man shouted, his hands shaking in anger.
"What makes you so certain about what masks our host offered?" Florence inquired, the dryad's voice still steady and calm.
"Because I am him!" The mystery man demanded as he reached up and removed his mask.
His face was young and hansom in fact he seemed to be only a little bit older than James.
Florence not wanting to make an already tense situation worse likewise removed her mask.
"The servant overseeing the table can vouch that I found it there. Is there something I don't know about this mask?" She offered by way of an explanation.
The brown haired man who was (if you took his word) Lord Sceleris evidently found Florence's appearance even more shocking than most, since for a moment he simply stood there and said nothing.
Then he recovered himself and his posture melted into an easy relaxed stance.
"I'm sorry my lady... look this is a matter of some sensitivity would you mind discussing it with me some place a bit more private?" He inquired polite as could be.
Florence accepted and soon enough the pair were seated in an extraordinarily well furnished room being poured glasses full of their beverage of choice (water for Florence, though having no idea exactly where it had come from and having little respect for the air in Nosos she took the time casually orbit a finger around the glass before drinking from it) by a mask-less servant.
"I'm terribly sorry about all of that, let me start by introducing myself properly, Malus Sceleris, and you are?" He asked while sipping from a glass of wine.
"Florence Bastien. I along with a few of my friends were invited thanks to Edward Resten." Florence explained, heading off one possible line of inquiry before it could even begin.
"Ah yes, Edward does have a big heart doesn't he? Anyway, I thought I had trained my servants better, but good help can be a bit hard to find these days... the ugly truth of the matter is that the mask you were wearing was cursed." He confessed.
"Cursed?" Florence repeated the word, just to make sure she had heard correctly.
Luckily Malus was not stingy with information.
"Yes, it first showed up a few years back at one of my masquerades, a mask I hadn't set out and yet was still found on a table in the cloak room. The man who wore it... at the stroke of midnight he transformed into a terrible monster, a mass of writhing vines, leaves and compost twisted into a mockery of the human form.
I destroyed the mask of course, but it showed up again... and again. I don't know what summons it, but alas talking about it more than necessary seems to frequently do the trick. If anyone is unfortunate enough to wear it until the stroke of midnight... it is not a pleasant sight to behold or discuss.
Alas, those who are lucky enough to take the mask off before midnight, still tend to suffer some sort of horrible fate not long after, as if an evil spirit was outraged at being denied its chance to twist another victim's body and soul." He explained a look of grave seriousness upon his face.
"If I find myself compelled to transform into some sort of horrific plant monster I'll do my utmost to warn you beforehand." Florence promised.
"Well enough, let us say no more on the matter, I'll have another mask brought for you, and see you leave here with your purse a few gold coins heavier, as what little I can do to aid you. I must say that you're one of my first guests to have bothered to make effort to apply makeup before donning a mask, but how did you know that you'd find a mask that matched it so well?" Malus wanted to know.
Florence ran a green gloved finger along her face.
"It's not makeup. I'm a dryad." She explained.
Malus sighed heavily and stood up.
"I'm surprised that you came to Nosos then, I have no idea what this land could possibly offer you." He admitted bluntly.
"I didn't choose to come, my companions and I were sent here by the hand of Gaia, of nature herself." Florence pointed out.
"Nature, bah!" Malus harrumphed.
"Now what should I make of that?" Florence couldn't help but needle her host slightly.
"You'll find me to be quite candid Miss Bastien, I say what I mean and I mean what I say. Nature holds no beauty, no charm, no attraction for me.
It is natural for a man to grow old and have his body turn against him, just as it is natural for wood to rot and grow weak with the passage of time. Excrement is natural, disease is natural, the wolf that rips a young girl to pieces is natural, death is natural.
Every single great thing that humanity has achieved has come about through our willingness to master what is 'natural' and bend it to our will! I live for a day when there is nothing 'natural' left about Nosos, it will be gleaming city of brilliantly shining stone, for you see there is nothing 'natural' about perfection." Malus vowed, solemnly striking a balled fist against the palm of his other hand.
His proclamation made, he suddenly chuckled and turned back to face Florence.
"Still, why let a little thing like a difference of opinions ruin a perfectly good masquerade? I'm afraid though that I must be getting back the ballroom soon or people may begin spreading baseless rumors about me vanishing from my own party to spend time with strange women." He explained as he placed the iron cog mask upon his face once more.
"Your new mask my lady?" A servant inquired while holding up a simple white mask like the one that Devi had selected not so long ago.
XXX XXX XXX
"You're right, wolves are natural." A voice informed Malus almost the instant that he walked out of the room.
The lord of the mansion spun around and found himself face to chest with a much taller man in black who was wearing a wolf mask.
"It isn't polite to eavesdrop. If I'd been talking matters of business you'd be lucky if I only had you thrown out." Lord Sceleris informed the guest in question.
"That's my mate, I was simply making sure of her safety." Alexander Diamondclaw replied.
"Your 'mate' is it? Well I hope will find a nice large den and have plenty of pups with her! Now if you'll excuse me I still have a party to host." Malus insisted.
The silver haired man didn't try to bar his progress, instead he swept into the room and helped Florence rise to her feet.
XXX XXX XXX
"I say Edward are you feeling all right?" Malus Sceleris asked a guest in an eagle mask.
Edward Resten lifted up his mask slightly, just enough to make his expression of surprise visible.
"Malus how do you do it? I've never seen you guess wrong!" He reflected in approval.
Malus' own expression was for the moment was hidden behind his mechanical mask.
"You told me you planned on wearing an eagle mask when you replied to my invitation. Still, are you sure that you're feeling all right?" Malus repeated the question a bit more urgently.
"Never better..." Edward insisted slipping his mask back on.
"Edward, you're the only one in this room who is sweating, and you're doing it so badly that even your mask doesn't hide it. Also you're wearing one the eagle masks I set out for guests... did you forget your own?" Malus explained his voice full of soft yet urgent concern.
"I did but I don't see..." Edward began as he pulled out a handkerchief and used it to wipe away the beads of sweat that were working their way free from under his mask and trailing down his neck.
Then he took a long look at the piece of cloth and realized just how thoroughly soaked it was.
"Ah... indeed..." Edward said in the exact same tone of voice a man might use when looking down only to discover they'd been impaled by a sword.
"I think it'd be best if you left." Malus "suggested", his voice was apologetic but all the same it was clearly not a request.
"I'll see myself out then. Thank you for catching it Malus, this city owes you a debt of gratitude. Come along lads, I think it's time I head back home..." Edward Resten reflected to his bodyguards mournfully.
XXX XXX XXX
"Something the matter?" A voice called out.
Edward had managed to make it as far as the cloakroom without being interrupted but before he could actually depart from Sceleris Manor he was blindsided by Alexander Diamondclaw.
"You should keep your distance, I'm not a well man." Edward warned.
"Is it lethal?" The Alexander asked immediately.
"No, I haven't got my elevens up, but I... I have the Fever. It's a bit of a embuggerance..." Edward whimpered, his voice a hollow echo of its previously boisterous self.
"If it isn't deadly and you can delay your carriage a little, I can at least make sure you don't completely lack for company. Besides, one of my companions has something of a talent for curing disease, she might be able to help you." The silver haired man suggested.
"You're a braver man than I to willingly share the home of someone with the Fever. Still, I dare say your companion could hardly make my condition worse and I was so busy talking with my old friends I never did to get the hear the story of you got that sword..." Edward admitted.
"Keep the horses to a slow walk and we'll follow you on foot." Alexander promised.
He wasn't about to order Cal or Devi to climb into a confined space alongside a man who was ill with a disease he knew nothing about.
He also wasn't about to point out to Edward that five minutes ago he'd had no idea where to spend the night.
XXX XXX XXX
A short while later the group was gathered together in the library of Edward Resten's mansion. It wasn't as grand as Malus Sceleris', but it was still plenty grand enough, especially when the alternative was sleeping outside in the still falling rain.
They were there to discuss a most unwelcome discovery.
"You couldn't cure him?" Alexander didn't sound angry or upset but he was most definitely surprised.
Florence Bastien nodded sadly.
"This disease... It is hard to describe to someone who can't use magic, but most disease are like snakes, this one is like a hydra.
Every time I used my magic to eradicate one of its heads, it just grew another to replace it. It isn't just one disease, it was like a dozen different illnesses all bound together by dark magic. Pathological Lycanthropy would be easier to cure with magic than this." The dryad reflected.
"Would having extra samples of the lycanthrope virus help at all?" James Firecat offered eagerly.
"Not really. I was only using it for comparison, two disease have nothing in common beyond difficulty to cure." Florence explained.
"According to both common wisdom and my own experiences it is impossible to cure a pathological lycanthrope by magic until the one who infected then is killed. As long as that lycanthrope lives, they give power to the disease. Do you think we're in a similar situation here, we would need to kill whoever made Mr. Resten sick before he can be cured?" Devi suggested.
"I've heard worse theories." Alexander admitted.
"Florence were you able to find anything else about the disease?" Alexander wanted to know.
"My magic doesn't work like that, at all. Remember Doctor Rudolph Van Richten is considered the one of the world's foremost experts on all things supernatural, and he was once a simple herbalist. If magic can't cure a disease in one stroke, scientific research will yields much more information then me dancing around skyclad to try and commune with the illness." Florence pointed out.
"We could try the skyclad dancing first, just to be absolutely sure. That's a kind of research after all, empirical evidence I believe is the term..." Alexander suggested hopefully.
"You're a beast." Florence Bastien reflected while looking around for something of a reasonable size and weight to toss at Alexander.
Before she could locate such an object the Lamordian alchemist put down what was perhaps the third tome of medical knowledge he'd been working his way through and coughed.
"Much as I don't hate to interrupt this conversation, I've managed to find some stuff you guys should know. First off, the Doctors here in Nosos seem to be pretty damn good, better than the ones in Lamordia even!
They've got a completely non-magical way to cure White Mouth if they can catch it early enough, and that means pretty damn early since this is White Mouth we're talking about, but still, who would have guessed that was even possible?
There are however two disease they can't cure though, Elevens, and Dum-Dum Fever. I can only assume the later was so named because whoever discovered it felt calling it 'The Idiot Plague' or 'The Stupid Sickness' would have been too dignified.
Symptoms start with everything you'd see in a traditional fever, high body temperature, sweating, and as a small mercy those symptoms don't tend to last beyond a week or two. Except that by the time the fever breaks the mind tends to have broken also." He explained.
"Minds can 'break' in a lot of different ways Cal. If our host is likely to grab the nearest axe and start trying to hack anyone within arms reach to pieces I'd like to know it now." Alexander pointed out.
Cal shook his head and flashed a somewhat disrespectful smile.
"Nah nothing so dramatic. It's the more the harmless half pathetic half silly kind of stuff. Says here one victim bought a pony so he could strip himself naked except for a saddle and let the beast ride around on top of him!" The blond haired man noted while being unable to fully repress a snicker.
"Any information on how it spreads? Now that I know Florence can't cure this illness I want to make sure none of you come down with it." Alexander said.
"They've got a lot more information on symptoms than transmission. The going theory is that it's a blood born illness and rich people like our host pick it up from spending time... getting their inseams adjusted.
I suppose that makes as much sense as any other theory and would explain why the soon to be victim wouldn't be put on guard by the already infected acted strangely. The good news is that there isn't a single confirmed case of a doctor contracting Dum-Dum Fever in the process of treating someone, so I think we're all fairly safe on that front." Cal informed him.
"When I asked if it was fatal he said his elevens weren't up... and you mentioned a disease named Elevens, that the doctors can't cure. If it's another illness that Florence can't magic away we better know everything we can about it. I refuse to have helped you lot survive darklords only to have you done in by a disease." Alexander growled.
Cal picked up the book he'd picked up and flipped through a few pages.
"Already ahead of you there Boss. The chief symptoms of Elevens is paralysis of the throat muscles causing muscles on the back of the neck to stand up erect, forming two parallel lines running up from the shoulders to the head..." He put the book back down, paused turned around and held up the index fingers of both hands against his own neck for effect.
"Hence why even this book uses the terms 'having your Elevens up' to describe someone suffering from the disease. Muscles in the throat become more and more unresponsive until the victim dies from suffocation. Survival rate... supposedly no one has even lasted half a week.
Once again no one is quite sure how it is transmitted, but chief theory is water born. This time though, there's not a single confirmed case of anyone of any real means ever coming down with the disease, so no reputable doctor has ever even bothered to try and treat someone with it... not sure if I should be comforted, frightened, or just disgusted by that! I mean supposedly crazy old man Mordenheim is willing to try and treat the folks with White Mouth back home." Cal admitted.
Alexander sat there for a few moments contemplating what he had heard, then he stood up and began to pace.
"First order of business, Devi get out the canteens, you, Cal, Florence, and yes even you James should either drink water from them, water that had been boiled, or water that has been purified by Florence's magic. Given what breathing the air is like, I can't even imagine what drinking the local water could do to the human body if you don't take precautions." It was an obvious order, one that Devi might have implemented without even being told, but Alexander didn't want to overlook the simple things as he struggled with more complex ones.
"So, what you're saying is that we have two diseases. One is debilitating, the other fatal. It is impossible to pin point what causes either of them exactly, most likely impossible to treat them with either science or magic, and yet..." His black gloved hands began to make emphatic gestures as if trying to grab with them the words his tongue could not.
"Cal let me see those books, I need to figure out how many people come down with Dum-Dum Fever and Elevens each year." Florence insisted.
"These books only talk about the times people of considerable wealth contracted the disease. But you're welcome to draw whatever conclusion you can." The alchemist noted while handing over the book.
"Devi I need you to search these books for information on how many people live in Nosos and how many of them are roughly as wealthy as our host. I want to know what percentage of people fall ill with either of these disease and how frequently it happens." The dryad instructed.
XXX XXX XXX
"They're not real diseases." Florence Bastien gasped in horror after the blue haired elf had helped her cypher through the necessary numbers.
"Well I suppose Edward will be glad to hear that, should I go tell him that any mental difficulties he's running into are quite literally all in his head? Better yet I could go to the graveyard and yell at the corpses of all the people who have died of Eleven about how lazy they are!" Cal mocked.
"Shouting at dead people that they need to show some motivation, there's an activity that has never ended badly for anyone..." Mirri noted sardonically.
"That wasn't my meaning." Florence cut him off before the argument could continue.
"What I was trying to say was that there is no way any naturally spreading disease should occur like this. It's all hills and valleys, and more to the point, there's never been more than three confirmed cases of Dum-Dum Fever, in the 'fever' stage at least, among the upper case at the same time.
The only thing more outrageous is how there really has never been a single documented case of Elevens among the upper class according to these books! These may be diseases, but someone is controlling them, guiding them, using them... like poisons." She explained solemnly.
"Think it might be the same person who is giving Dum-Dum Fever the power to resist healing magic? That would follow the lycanthrope model..." James pondered.
Alexander abruptly made a quick hand motion and in response the elf passed him her bag of holding.
From it he drew forth a piece of paper that was swiftly torn into six pieces.
"I'm going to write something down on this, I want you all to do the same." Alexander advised them, positioning himself to keep anyone from seeing what he wrote before he flipped the piece of paper.
No one objected to this seeming non sequitur and a magical quill that would always be wet with ink when its holder desired it was passed around.
Only once every member of the group had been given a chance to write did Alexander Diamondclaw turn his piece of paper over.
It bore a single word written in a large and rather unsteady script.
"Darklord."
Florence Bastien turned over her card.
"Darklord."
Cal flipped his up a moment later.
"Darklord."
Devi did likewise.
"Darklord."
Mirri tossed her piece of paper across the room so it landed on top of Alexander's.
"Darklord."
"Jeez, now I feel silly, I wrote 'coincidence' down." James Firecat chuckled ruefully.
Then he flipped his card over and his mirth grew noticeably less self-effacing.
It did not say "coincidence" not even close.
"Darklord."
"Right, glad to see we're all on the same page." Alexander declared with evident pride.
End Chapter
AN: First of all let me remind my readers, you get what you pay for. That is "very" evident in this chapter in my opinion, because I'm making this plot line up whole cloth rather than following an Adventurer Book and I worry that it shows here.
I'm successfully conveying the story I want to convey, but I worry that I'm missing several possible fun character beats with James and Mirri or Cal and Devi while the masquerade party is going on in favor of just simply doing a mental check list of what has to occur in order to keep the plot moving along. Maybe if I can get some feedback from you guys I'll be able to make this a better chapter, I always do my best work adapting someone else's base idea honestly...
For those of you who are interested, since Dryad's aren't mentioned in the Ravenloft Dungeon Master's Guide or anything similar here is Florence Bastien's Outcast Rating, for any given random domain with no special modifiers.
+1 For being of medium size.
+2 For being distinctly inhuman
+0 Reputation, I can't call this one in either direction, Dryad's probably aren't considered "good" but they probably aren't considered "evil" either. They are neither considered generally harmless like halflings or small children, or actively malicious like a zombie.
+1 Beyond the pale, Dryads are clearly Sylvan Fey and since they mention "Fey" which I'm assuming doesn't apply to just Shadow Fey I'm counting it.
+1 Unnatural Powers, people are going to assume a dryad has all sorts of weird tree/nature related powers, this is because they do, especially in Florence's case.
Total: 1+2+1+1= 5.
Outcast Rating 6 is the level where people tend to start screaming/running for cover when what you are is revealed. So Florence is going to likely get a lot of stink eye/long awkward pauses, but in most domains people aren't not going to start trying to burn her alive/build a bridge out of her first chance they get. She might very well be Outcast Rating 6 in Nosos simply because she clashes with the Zeitgeist of the domain, but on the other hand her Outcast Rating might be lower because people consider her less of a threat in a land where nature has been quite so heavily bent to man's will, so draw your own conclusion.
Florence traced her hands along the cup so she could cast "Purify Food and Drink" which in retrospect isn't a touch spell but maybe she just finds casting it that way more symbolically appropriate? Either way, when you're a dryad you take your water seriously, doubly so when you're in a domain where everything seems to be ecologically screwed up and you have no idea if your host bothered to first boil and then properly chill (not because the chilling the water to "drinkable" (non-iceube) levels has anything to do with sanitation, just because is there anyone who actually likes the "taste" of hot water?) the stuff beforehand, and figures it is more polite to just toss out a level zero spell rather than asking.
Also, allow me to describe exactly how Dum-Dum Fever works as written (in fan material since it never got a canon description), every day you're sick with it, make a fortitude role against the disease (DC 16) success means nothing happens, failure means you loose a "temporary" (as in you can get them back fairly easily once you're cured but read on...) point from Intelligence, a point from Wisdom, and a point from Charisma. Keep doing this EVERY DAY (as in EVERY DAY OF YOUR LIFE) until you have failed five such checks and thus lost five points from all three of your mental scores (and the ones you have lost do not come back with the passage of time unless you are cured). At that point you gain a moderate madness effect.
So while there's never been a distinct correlation between Int/Wis scores and IQ, it can make a simply brilliant businessman (int 15) decidedly average, while an average person would most likely end up in Forest Gump territory. It also causes the victims to slur their speech (both loss of Charisma and a directly listed symptom) and otherwise just about makes it impossible for anyone to take them seriously.
If this is all sounding much too convenient to be a naturally developing disease and much more as if it was tailor made to make someone incapable of running a business, congratulations, take your piece of paper and write "Darklord" down on it!
Also, the two most dangerous diseases of Nosos (Dum-Dum Fever and Elevens) in reality are "slightly" easier to cure than pathological lycanthropy, by which I mean they can be cured through magic, but only with a a wish or limited wish spell... and if I had anyone in the group capable of casting either of those spells, well only the Dark Powers twisting the results would possibly be able to make these stories interesting.
If you don't remember the Book Two notes when the characters say "White Mouth" you should think "Rabies". If you don't remember Book Three after spending some time in Paridon discussing the death of multiple "seamstresses" Cal decided that "getting your inseam adjusted" would be his new favorite polite way of saying going to visit a prostitute.
Finally please do not take the term that Edward uses to describe his condition as meant to be insulting to anyone, "embuggerance" is the word that Terry Pratchett (Noli Timere Messorem) used to describe his own debilitating mental illness though "luckily" for all of us Alzheimers takes a lot longer than Dum-Dum Fever to fully set in.