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The Hanged Man glanced from Zarrin to the girl who was serving Josh, and his eyes narrowed. The magical energy in the air so nearby made his ears pop and he shuddered, the flayed skin of his arms crawling unseen under his gloves. He watched Alavara leave with one of her guards behind her, as well as the feral huntress, who had her bow out. At least it was unstrung, but he hoped nonetheless that Varis was paying attention.

His attention returned to their host. "Sickness?" he asked after a swig of ale. "The same sickness that has claimed the Constable, I assume? And yet you do not seem concerned it w-will afflict you, nor your guests ..."

A warrior entered the room quietly, even with her side cape of a bright yellow, a blue toned leather chestpiece of her far off homeland and an accompaning blue plume of horse hair on a scuffed and worn steel helmet, Rome, her name and nickname due to both her helmet and the gladious at her side, walked into the room with a comfortable pace towards her lord, Zarrin.
No word spoken, nothing delivered, a simple nod of confirmation. Of what, it was unknown. Perhaps her presence.
Her steel blue eyes scanned the room as she stood off to the side of her liege, the same eyes squinted at the man with green when asked of the illness. "We've been heavily fortunate that our best are here today to serve you," She interjected, "The Constable and my father both have deeply been bed ridden, but we have people tending to them, as we tend to you now." She didn't mean to obviously buy time for Zarrin to answer, but she did so regardless. Her arms crossed as she stared down the man, but she closed her eyes and went back to simply being at Zarrin's disposal. The man, after all, had his name carved into a large armor shield plate on Rome's left arm, as well as a odd writing going up her arm that she'd tried and failed to wash off.
A servant brought her a small goblet of water, and Rome accepted with an uncharacteristic smile of her thanks.

Galiena looked toward the armed woman that entered and seemed to take up a protective stance near their host. The cleric wished suddenly she'd donned her own armor here instead of her simple blue and white linen dress. There was a lie here somewhere, but she could not detect its exact nature. And how dangerous would it be to call it out?

"Perhaps I can aid the good Constable," she offered, taking a cue from the knight across from her. "I am well trained in the healing arts. I could even beseech Ulesh on his behalf for a faster recovery."

Zarrin turned his forced smile in her direction. He seemed to not like this idea, but there was no obvious reason to refuse her. "You may risk contracting it yourself," he pointed out.

"It is a risk I am accustomed to," she returned.

He hesitated, but then relented. "After lunch then, Rome can take you to him," he gestured to the woman standing near him.

The three men half carried / half dragged Henrik up to the manner house. The island was narrow, so it was only about a half-mile trek. Oscar opened the servant's door that came into the kitchen from the back side and Red and Drugo hauled their "prisoner" inside only a few moments after the two elves and the huntress arrived there from the other side.

"Hey... you girl," Red said to the brown-haired maid as they started setting the injured man down on a chair, "fetch water and rags so we..." he broke off as he noticed the elves and the huntress. "What're you doin' in here?" he challenged.

Alavara strode into the kitchen pridefully, as if she owned it and was here to discipline her employees for misbehavior. The fact they all turned to look at her entrance was all that prevented her from grabbing their attention with another magical burst. Regardless she still moved her staff in front of her and to the side, bringing it down with a thud, but this time without any magical burst to catch the attention of others.

"You must be the worst examples of cooks I have ever been served by," Alavara announced, "You are aware you are serving elven nobles right?" she waited a moment for a response, but all she recieved in turn was surprised, possibly frightened looks from the three maidens that stood before here.

"Vall!" the voice of Varis came quickly from behind her, and as he grabbed gently for her arm, she responded in force. Lifting her left arm to Varis' chest she shoved him back half out of frustration and half out of instinct. He stumbled back a couple steps, now facing Alavara's front side looking at her in small surprise. His eyes shifted behind her as he saw someone approach.

"Stay your bow!" Varis commanded with authority, proceeding to draw one sword with his right hand pointing it directly at the huntress coming up the hallway. In the same motion he took Alavara by the shoulder with his left and gently shifted her behind him. Alavara, knowing full well Varis' voice implied an approaching danger, simply allowed him this time to move her, and she half turned around to see the foreign huntress approaching.

It was then the dooron the other side of the room opened and the three men drug in what seemed to be a corpse. Alavara moved only her head to consider the scene on her other side, but without responding to the inquiry by the incoming man, she simply turned to watch the scene between Varis and this possible assassin play out.

---

"If there is a sickness apparent in this village, why not cancel incoming ships until it is resolved?" Theren asked Zarrin with a serious interest, he couldn't put his finger on it but something here was amiss. "Exactly what kind of sickness is this?"

The blue horse haired woman looked uncomfortably at her master, almost a look of Do I have to? Yet she made no other motion, simply staying her feet when she heard the calls from the kitchen.

Bethany hoped to keep this woman from beating the servants, but as her guard drew a sword she stilled herself....then a body was drug in in..the chest moved lightly..still alive. "Is he well?" She changed her focus to the men, hopefully this wouldn't end in violence.

He mumbled something, blood dripping from his leg. There was a broken piece of wood embedded into the bone. His blood was red, like it should be, but also with a slight green tint. He coughed up a wad of blood and phlegm.

The Hanged Man crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, his head canted to one side as he continued to watch Zarrin's body language, pausing to shoot appreciative glances to Theren and Galiena. Rome's arrival also drew his attention. Zarrin had backup.

"I, too, w-would like to speak to the Constable," he said.

Zarrin turned his gaze upon Theren, seeming to grow aggravated and slightly stressed by the barrage of questions, but kept his practiced smile carefully in place. "We depend on the supplies," he stated.

"I'm sorry, but no," Zarrin said quickly to The Hanged Man with a firm shake of his head. "We can permit the healer, but he should not be disturbed with business matters. He is feverish and weak. I can attend any official business on his behalf."

Galiena exchange a worried glance with both Theren and then the armored knight, then hurried to finish her soup.

Anxious to turn the conversation, Zarrin queried, "Any news from the mainland?"

---

"Course he ain't well! He look well to you?" Red returned, dropping Henrik into the chair and bringing his hand to the axe that hung on his belt when he sees the elf with his blade drawn toward the short human woman. He couldn't quite figure out what was going on here, but sure didn't want to be caught flatfooted if things took a bad turn.

"You three..." he said to the maids... "outta the way and go find Oakes." The three woman were quick to obey, none anxious to have any part of whatever was going on here, and hurried through a door opposite the one where Alavara and Bethany had entered.

He was slumped over on the chair, still muttering something as his hands twitched, his eyes cracking open a tiny bit as he looked around blearily. He looked at the elf, and then the four humans, barely able to form a coherent thought.

The huntress slowly approached and set her bow to the side and carefully drawing a small shiv she had stowed on her person.. "I have healing herbs...and can help the green blight.." She offered and came close to the man without permission regardless. She gently appraised the leg and began to rifle though her bag and pockets to find herbs to halt the rotting and perhaps help boost the man's constitution.

The Hanged Man shot Galiena a concerned and knowing glance, hoping they were on the same page regarding their suspicions. "This is my mistress," he said. "And I am her guardian. Wh-where she goes, I go. Trust, Lord Zarrin, that I can be very unassuming." He looked at the woman again with a crooked smile. Hopefully Zarrin wouldn't ask him her name. "As for news ... all I have is this scroll." Which he hadn't read. He wished he had taken someone aside to read it for him when they were still on the Elfleda. Perhaps there was still time for that. The grizzled warrior finished off the rest of his ale and eased to his feet. "Might my mistress and I be excused to share a word in private, Lord Zarrin?"

In the kitchen, Varis whispered something more to Alavara in the elven tongue as he returned his sword to his sheath and the two elves returned to the dining area.

"You a healer?" Red asked Bethany, turning his attention back to Henrik and the huntress. "You know him?"

---

A look of surprise crossed Galiena's face at the Hanged Man's declaration though she hid it away a moment later and hoped that Zarrin had not noticed.

"I..."

Their host was interrupted by the sudden return of Varis and Alavara, who collected Theren with a few words of elvish and headed for the front door. The interruption seemed to buy him a few moments to collect his thoughts and gave his own look of surprise cover.

"Then by all means," he said to The Hanged Man after the sound of the front door slamming died away. "The rest of you, unfortunately, should return to your ship," he said to Edwin, Josh, and Asmaria, who were, by now, finished with their meals as well. He made no mention of Bethany, perhaps he had lost track of her.

As the three others were escorted out by Zarrin's two guards, Galiena and The Hanged Man were able to find a few moments of privacy in the foyer right outside the dining room. "If there is a sickness, you may be putting yourself at risk," she whispered to him.

To read the scroll would require breaking Lord Rolf's official seal...

The Hanged Man rose to leave the room, joining Galiena in the foyer. The first words out of his mouth were an apology. "Sorry--I didn't know wh-what else to say." When she mentioned that he may fall ill, too, he chuckled and looked aside. "W-worry not, mistress. I'm cut from hardy cloth." He procured the scroll from the mainland and held it out, eyeing the seal with hesitation. "Perhaps we should break it. Unless you've a steady knife hand." His own were shaking slightly. "There's aught rotten here, and I'd hate to move on if I can do something about it. Alas, I'm but one man ..."

He coughed, regaining conciousness and the ability to think clearly. "Wh... what happened?" He asked, his voice throaty and raw. He coughed out a rather sizable amount of seawater and blood, looking around at his captors. "Who are you..?"

The cleric looked slightly uneasy at the idea of opening the scroll not intended for her eyes, but found herself nodding. "I could try," she said, taking it and pulling out a small blade from her pouch that was meant more for utility than combat. "Maybe it will shed some light on what Zarrin is hiding from us."

She tries to open it discreetly and skims the short missive, summarizing as she goes...

"It's by Lord Rolf and to Constable Leofwine Botwright... yearly tax collection totals ... he asks if there is enough available farmland to accept more permanent settlers.... please re-provision the Elfleda if needed ... and that is pretty much it. No mention of Zarrin at all. Or of this illness."

She looked back up, only more worried that Lord Rolf seemed to be in the dark that anything was amiss on Avery's Isle.

She dully shook her head at the questions and backed away, staying just close enough to carefully watch the stranger. She didn't know the man, she was only a wildling, and she clearly had no clue what had happened to put him in such a state. "He needs water." She quietly noted, and hesitated to share her oxhorn flask.."This should help with pain, some." She offered the horn to the man.

As the guests left, Rome turned to Zarrin. "So, my father is sick now too." She stated bluntly, "Any chance I can go home and see him? I've been with you long enough, you practically raised me." She chided, tapping the cestus on her left arm, fingers padding along the Lord's engraved name. "Or at least do something about those idiots on the coast who stole my pipe." She crossed her arms and took her helmet off to set on the table, revealing short cut black hair and a green eye instead of blue in the shadow. The girl with heterochromia began helping herself to some food as the two stood together. Her two eyes may be different colors, but she was as normal as any foreigner.

"Who are you..?" the "prisoner" asked.

"The welcoming committee", Red answered sarcastically as Bethany gave the man a drink. "Better question is who the hell are you?"

As Henrik seemed to be coming around more, Drugo placed himself just behind with a hand upon his shoulder, clearly intended to keep Henrik from getting up.

"And who's this little lovely thing?" Oscar says, eyeing Bethany. "Maybe the captain might let us keep this one, eh?" The question earned a warning glance from Red.