AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic - Make Me Come Alive or the Legacy of Neo-Vodak

"Come on!" the director shouts, clapping his powdered hands together in irritation. "Turn it on, people, turn it on!"

A jumble of limbs decorated in mottled fabrics crawls spider-like across the floor of the Twilight Stage during rehearsal. Bare palms and soles undulate against the ground, attempting to move the collection of limber bodies with as little sound as possible. One actor's black-sleeved arms reach out, elongated by wooden poles hidden beneath the sleeves, clutching for a lead role that should be blocked forward stage left but is instead just off-stage, wheezing and sneezing.

"Slower now. Yes, creep, that's it. You're building tension. You're all one mind, separate pieces working in harmony and towards one united goal: to consume, consume, consume," the director shouts, cramming his hand into his open mouth with each word to add emphasis. It isn't until one of the actors sneezes that a spasm starts in the creature's abdomen that causes four of its legs to slide flat against the stage floor. Second later, the rest of it dematerializes, transforming from an intimidating monstrosity of grasping hands and kicking feet into an exhausted orgy of sprains and groans.

And thus the cast discovers why the call it a dress rehearsal, as the director, bubbling with impotent rage and purple veins, dresses them down. He is so engaged in his tirade that he simply takes the handful of advertisements a courier gives him and barely glances at them before signing off his approval for their distribution. The only reason he ceases his act at all is due to giggles that arise from the cast when, through his congestion, he tells them to "tage a deeb bread add breed in the ard of the theader."

And so the posters arrive, advertising a post-trouble (a reference to the impact of the Time of Troubles on the global artistic movement and the shifts it created in artistic interpretation of absolutism and relativism in faith) monologue/musical/interpretive dance act incorporating at least thirty-two different language and one entirely made-up language that tells no story but simply presents sensory input and offers conflicting, insightful, and, according to the playbill, "sublime interpretations of art in our modern world".

The show is called, simply, §.

// Monday, Jan 30, 2pm CST.

It was a weird show. The main act was the weirdest, when the method actor playing the prince decided to split his bride-to-be's skull open and eat her brains, or rather, the grotesque white cottage cheese material growing fungus-like on her brains. It was an expert bit of stagecraft, exquisite special effects and unerringly realistic "true-to-life" method acting, as Director Schlomo had envisioned.

And no wonder. The final act wasn't even an act.

*******

The people who are normally able to reach the Triumvir by way of portal rod bindings or the unique innovations of the leylines and lanterns suddenly find that they cannot access the area. None of it works. No one is certain of why. Nothing has changed on the outside, but the paintings fail, the lanterns fail, the portal rods just don't seem to recognize the area.

Experts claim, "Well, based upon how the magic works, if a significant alteration has been made to the area of the Triumvir - and significant could mean many things - it is possible that all of the magics will no longer register it by the formula of the prescribed spells. Beyond that...who knows? At least all those kooky actors have something to keep themselves busy."

Those intrepid theatregoers who escaped wind up at the Salandrans, along with a cadre of survivors, most of whom are so horrified they cannot readily speak about all of the things they saw, witnessed, and were victim to. Some really get into playing the part of the mental breakdown, the panicked into babbling, the incoherent and the manic. And they do that acting extremely well!

Each of them receives a diagnosis, and all of the "musicians" in the company...save for Andrew Fryar, who sneezed once and expelled a curious wad of mucous from his sinuses that instantly died and evaporated on exposure to the open air...are told, after numerous ingratiating tests and examinations that involve rectal temperature taking, bloodletting, cranial measurements, instruments jammed into ears, noses, and mouths, and a host of shameful questions about personal habits, their diagnosis.

"It seems we have a full-blown crisis here," the Salandran Cleric informs them. "We thought it was meningitis. It certainly seems like meningitis. But in fact, it is a living organism, harboring itself inside your sinus cavity initially until it works its way into your cranial cavity and begins to grow on your brain, very near your central cortex where it has the potential to control and manipulate your entire nervous system. We're going to be able to remove them from you surgically, at the very least, but that comes with high risk. With more tests run, we may be able to find another way to expunge the creatures from your bodies, for they are neither diseases nor poisons nor outsiders that can be banished...but until then, we are going to have to keep you in a quarantine situation."

And those who are placed into quarantine (you know who you are) are soon joined by someone the Salandrans claim was the first case to come to them with this problem.

Elorathall.

Or rather, you would be, but the clerics are suddenly unaware of his whereabouts. "He checked himself in, but now he's...gone..."

// Need any specific details or questions answered, or if you have a general, Oh God, what am I supposed to do now?! query, just PM me.

After shara'hi, priestess of sharess got to the sarlandral temple she'd go through and speak tothe priestess's there for a check up on her pregnant condition, though still blocking out the condition of her memory of the face of what was the gelly's tool to speak with them all that were present to the horrors of triumvir.

In an act of foresight (which was not announced to the public, but seeing as it is now relevant to several people, a precautionary missive of temporary exile from Cordor is issued to the Salandrans, to be given to the people who have been admitted with this strange illness. It seems to be sent on the notion or knowledge that the Salandrans cannot, or usually will not, force people to stay at the Temple's facilities if they do not want to be treated. It promises that once the disease is taken care of, the ban will be lifted, but until then the population of Cordor cannot be risked with infection.

The missive is authorized by Captain N. Tarvencia of the Cordor Adventuring Guard, and Minister Xaviera Xuider Xee of the Ministry of Public Health and Welfare on the behalf of the Commonwealth.

A letter arrives at the Salandran Temple soon after word of the plague begins to spread, bearing the seal of the Shrine of Eilistraee:

Temple Mother Teresa,

We here at Eilistraee's Shrine have heard of the horrible events in the Triumviir. To aid you in the medical investigation, we wish to inform you that we have the bard Elorathall in our cells. He is yours to pick up at your leisure, though I urge you to hurry. It is not safe for him to be here, nor is it safe for us. He is under quarantine for the moment.

Sincerely,
Jud'Vardas Kenlyl,
Seneschal of Eilistraee's Shrine

They respond back, instructing them to keep him there and to limit his exposure to the following classes of people: bards, musicians, people who sing or have well-shaped and well-formed sinus cavities.

They include the brunt of their research to date: Remove Curse fails, Remove Disease fails, Neutralize Poison fails, and the agent itself cannot easily be removed. Once removed, however, it does not appear able to survive open exposure for more than thirty seconds to a minute, as it rapidly deteriorates and then evaporates like common rubbing alcohol.

They are struggling to find another method aside from outright breaking peoples' heads open and scooping it out, which comes at a very high risk of death in the subject.

Temple Mother Teresa,

May I offer the suggestion of attempting to turn the subject that is inflicted to stone with a flesh to stone, since the cause is a living organism it should be possible to turn the subject to stone and not the parasite or whatever you wish to call it. From there if it did not fully attach removing it should be simple without much harm to the subject.

Belalad Feiwallyan

A certain tiefling can be seen wandering around quietly and in a even more subdued manner than normal. He seems to be almost perpetualing growling to himself too.

Xaviera speaks to various people and seeks out Jud at the Shrine for more information, though she fails to find him when she passes by and resolves to drop by again. She also requests a pair of guards to watch over the portal lantern in the Temple of Love and attempts to contact Tuomas in Kohlingen for information on how it might be temporarily disabled until the situation at the Triumvir is resolved.

My understanding is that it is currently not functioning anyway, but I would recommend a Dimensional Anchor be maintained on it until this crisis is over, regardless Minister.

Your staff trained in the Arcane if any should confirm that it would work, given the Lantern works off of a principle akin to planar gates.

Regards,
Tuomas Valo

Down in the Ellistraean shrine, a particular bard rages and fumes until he passes out from exhaustion. When he wakes up again, he just lies still for a while.

Then, for some reason, he chuckles.
Too late. Far too late.

Il'haress Maral Tinnerai was approached in Underport by a worried father who's daughter had attended a show earlier in the day.

The Lolthite Priestess accompanied the man and his wife to their home and spoke to the girl about what had happened and how the slime had affected her since.

Il'haress Tinnerai laid out a bold plan, one that might have caused parents of lesser resolve to blanch and send her away once more. Using her Divine magics, and a powerful one from the father, the slime finally oozed from the girl's nose.

To be safe, a towel was thrown over the bowl as its contents writhed, and the father used his arcane power to freeze the entire setup.

The priestess returned to her elegant home, and spent a great deal of time soaking in the steam bath, before retiring to her rest.

//PM & screenshots sent to Yoss.

Kurchin had a lot to think about this night.

His mind raced across many different points. It started with guilt, blame directed at himself for releasing this thing in the first place, had he not checked the Triumvir library for Vodak this would never have happened. Maybe if he'd have forced Elorathall to stay at the Salandrans the infection would never have spread. Kurchin sat on the bed in the room he'd rented in the Hin Inn, he stared at the floor, lost in thought. He'd heard the assurances of others that he couldn't have known this would happen, how this wasn't his fault, but the kobold still felt guilty for what had happened. He had not witnessed the destruction of the Triumvir himself, but hearing of what happened, it hurt inside, a lot.

He knew he couldn't drag himself down with guilt though. Of those that gathered at the Shrine, he felt he was the most familiar with the Triumvir. His mind raced back to guilt... though in the depths of his thoughts, he came to something which Nevaeh had told him some time ago...

The world still goes on. We continue to make choices and either live with them, or spend the rest of our lives trying to turn back time. We make mistakes so that, one day, we might just get it right.

Kurchin was no stranger to regret. It felt deeper now, but he had to focus.

I hope Tuomas's theory is correct... Kurchin thought as he pulled out the scroll of gate he was given, studying it. He'd used such a scroll before, but not like this. If I'm familiar enough with the Triumvir, I should be able to use it to bridge the planar gap to open a gate there which myself and my friends could cross. That is... assuming that this hasn't been blocked as well...

He'd continue to study the scroll for a while, before drifting off to sleep in preparation for the struggle to come.

A request comes from the city of Kohlingen, sent to the temple of Salandra. It requests, in short, a list of symptoms displayed by those infected by the slime creatures. Furthermore, it requests treatment information for the aforementioned condition. It is signed by one Ulrik Valis, and it directs whom it may concern to address the letter to the keep of Kohlingen.

Well desperate times call for desperate measures. . . Not wanting to be in the hands of strangers, a young (and frightened) female bard broke away from the Salandran Temple as soon as she was able to slip out unnoticed. She had watched all the treatments put forth fail one by one, and could not possibly sit idle by.

When her desperate search for treatment of this horrible thing lead her to the Underport. . . all she could do is hope for the best. . .

"Shh.. it will be okay..."

"...It doesn't -feel- okay."

Laurel issues an order regarding the painting in the Hinn Inn, as well as ordering the Militia to not open the gates for anyone exhibiting cold like symptoms with no exceptions.

The Salandran Temple not only meets Kohlingen's request vis a vis Ulrik, but disseminates information about the isolated contagion to all regional areas, including apparently unaffected places like the Commonwealth of Cordor, Winya Ravena, and even a notice sent over the water to Wiltun, in case traffic from the Amian Island docks there.

The document is a medical press release of sorts, documenting the results of interviews and experiments upon sixteen subjects rescued from the Storyteller's Triumvir by Andrew Fryar and several other intrepid theatergoers whose names the Salandrans do not immediately know.

Among the information made publicly available:

- The illness is a living organism of "questionable" sapience and sentience that is able to reproduce itself into extremely small particulates and spread through water or other viscous vapor, meaning the vectors of contamination are inhalation, ingestion, and contact.

- The organism is partial to hosts with strong, open sinus and nasal cavities, presumably due to the flow of moisture and air. Singers or public speakers are therefore at particular risk.

- The organism immediately infiltrates the host's sinus/nasal cavity and becomes dormant. In fact, it remains in a state of dormancy for several hours at a time, if not days, simply feeding upon and growing within the host's cavity. During this time, the sinuses are irritated as though by cold-like symptoms, encouraging mucous membranes to produce copious mucous. Hence, the typical cold-like symptoms of runny nose, sniffling, post-nasal drip, congestion, and sinus headaches are all possible signs of an infected host.

- As the organism grows, it breaches the sinus cavity and enters the cranial cavity and there continues to grow on the surface of the brain in particular proximity to the sector of the brain that controls the body's animation and urges. Autopsies have revealed that the organism physically resembles meningitis in this stage of maturation. This is where the organism becomes particularly dangerous as it exhibits the capacity to control the host in an effort to infect another possible host.

- Subjects 13, 14, and 16 were placed in isolation away from the others, as they had been suffering the symptoms of the infestation for over a week. Within eight hours, 14's motor controls and urges had been entirely co-opted by the organism. Subject 14 immediately attacked subjects 13 and 16 and before subject 14 could be further isolated or neutralized, 14 had broken open the cranial cavities of both 13 and 16 and was observed consuming the organisms that had been maturing in the heads of subjects 13 and 16. Subject 14 thereafter ceased all bodily functions and perished, leaving the organism to slowly and gradually feast on the remains of its host, which could no longer sustain the organism. It is assumed that the organism(s) operate universally, with a desire to reproduce and then rejoin, and that the impetus for "consuming" the other organisms with the host's body is merely to reintroduce all aspects of the universal organism into a single organism.

- The rotes of Neutralize Poison, Remove Curse, and Remove Disease have no effect upon the organism. Restorations improve the feelings of the host, but are ultimately placebos.

- Subject 14 was eventually autopsied and the organism removed from the cranial cavity. It survived for 38 seconds, writhing and undulating, until it erupted a gassy bubble and rapidly evaporated at the relative consistency of rubbing alcohol on a solid surface. The bubble is assumed to simply be a death cry, possibly a final attempt at infection, but samples collected produced no sign of the organism. The film it leaves behind is dead and in all ways similar to mucosa.

- The subjects interviewed all complained of cold-like symptoms, citing numerous instances of coughing, congestion, seepage, ear infections, sinus headaches, etc. Sneezing seemed to be of peculiar mention to the subjects, many of whom registered the same complaint: many times they were compelled to sneeze but after beginning the inhalation process found that the sneeze wound down and they couldn't sneeze, leaving them with the common feeling of dissatisfaction.

The information goes on to say that tests are continuing to be run, and their recommendation is to monitor the at-risk individuals who exhibit the symptoms and to isolate them; to wear protective breathing masks and sanitary gloves; and to make ample use of rubbing alcohol when dealing with those exhibiting cold-like symptoms, as it may be useful in sterilizing the organism before it has an opportunity to mature. Once matured, the organism is "indifferent" to most chemicals.

*******

In addition, many of the orders and recommendations for people not to use the portals and gates and their own portal rods to reach the Triumvir are unnecessary, as none of the usual means of accessing the Triumvir even work.

As E'dalar hears news of this, his mind becomes numb as hundreds of questions and a sudden fear creeps up on him. The portals and most importantly the shrine of Shaundakul is at risk. Hearing about Vodak and its history with Cordor, he would travel to the city and search the library and book merchants in the western district for information about the Lord of Ooze.

What E'dalar finds are a lot of books that detail how horrible the nobility were treating the commoners and lots of insight about the corrupt politics of the Duke of Cordor and the collective nobility. He also reads a great deal about the illustrious industrial history of the common, working man and his role in Cordorian agriculture and manufacturing. He also reads a good deal about what a menace adventurers are to the people.

But nothing about Vodak.

*Eli waits for word of when the planned excursion will take place as he sits in Kohlingen.*

A heavily enchanted woman of elven build would burst into the Salandran temple, running around until she finds a priest of healer of Salandra. Once she does, she being to inquire about the victims of the outbreak, in particular drow and bards. Her general demeanor would suggest this particular person was not quite right in the head. As soon as she'd have seen all those infected she would breathe a sigh of relief and depart without further ado.

Meanwhile, in his cell, a tired and strained Elor lies on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The constant headaches, the fatigue and the difficulty in breathing muffle the edges of his mind, making it harder to think clearly. But it doesn't stop the news of ongoing events from cutting deep into his soul.
How could any of this happen? Triumvir.. gone. All of it lost.. How... Why?
...
How didn't I see this? Why didn't I foresee this? Why did I..
...
I should have foreseen something like this. I should have planned for it. I should have..

Unable to find any reason to the madness and on the verge of tearful hysteria, he takes a deep breath to calm himself and tries - and fails - to think of other things. Moment later, he quietly sings a single verse to himself, barely more than a whisper.

.. Tomorrow will take us away... far from home... no one will ever know our names... but the bards' songs will remain...

On the day of the occurance, shara'hi herself would've left salandral once checked out on her condition of her pregnancy fine and healthy, to stay at kohl for the time from a previous idea enstalled by caila the triadic knight as she tends to go by boat from kohl to cordor off adn on, seeming well and healthy with her own prayers to sharess for blessings as she rather often casts healing magic on herself in precaution if not useless and unneeded in her limited seclusion to cordor and kohl in the last month and a half of her pregnancy.

Having heard from some others regarding this, and as well recieving the note from Xaviera, Tuomas heads to the Lamp near Nexus falls and begins carrying out some rudimentary analyses.

A follow-up to the Salandran research on the Triumvir survivors comes the next day. The medicians claim that on the advice of an arcanist they attempted to turn one of their infected subjects temporarily to stone in order to remove the organism. Unfortunately, doing so simply made it even more difficult to reach the buried organism, as flesh is much more pliable than stone, even if it is far more resilient. They claim to have tried to pump air through what tunnels might have been made in the statue's head, but it produced nothing out of the only other open orifice: the other nostril. They also report that the subject who was turned to stone was restored to flesh successfully and safely but was then immediately subject to an attack of failed sneezes.

The Salandrans urge any other communities or governments holding their own possible infected come to the Salandran Temple in order to reach a collective solution.

// Wednesday, February 1, 5pm CST.

Belalad takes note of the date n time.

Insanity? that was what one might have said if they heard Tazlin Kenlyls mutterings as he furiously worked over the small table covered in Alchemical tools in Library of Eilistraees Shrine talking to himself. "Alkaline salts, nau nau nau, to dangerous to the host. Some kind of agent to reduce the oozes cohesive structure? but what would be safe for the infected. Rapid evaporation prevents further analysis. Suggested weakness to Sonic energy and exposure to air and light perhaps a magical infusion of sound air and sun light... more metaphysical research..." The smells of noxious gasses and small pops of volatile mixtures issued forth through out the day as the eccentric magi barely ate or interacted with others, a not uncommon event for the most Anti-social Eilistraeen at the Shrine.

Verielia patiently awaits treatment while under her self imposed quarantine at the salandran temple. She is clearly worried but optimistic about a soultion.

A woman in her forties in the red of the Healers reads the progress reports at the Salandran Temple. She shakes her head softly at the progression. "If we do not comprehend the source of these organisms than we can but try to treat them as any other symptom. And evidently they need to be removed. As normal approaches don't work we shall have to think outside of the box."

She ponders of that for a moment and then recalls one of the basic books of the clergy that tells of using giant ants to stitch wounds. "We could use insects as well. If they eat the organisms, then we can more easily remove them. Now we will have to test if they will eat it and and if they won't be affected themselves, though insect minds are so different. And which ones to use, a form of ant, or would some sort of maggot as they use for infections be more appropriate?" The woman goes off to see if she can find the required bugs and if she can get a sample of the mucus.

Veriela is graciously offered a powerful sedative by one of the Salandran medics.

"A tenth of a dose of blue winnis will adequately treat your anxiety by inducing restful slumber. In addition, its deadening effects of your motor coordination will, at least according to our research, hamper the organism's ability to manipulate your body."

Salandra's grace, indeed.

It would normally be restful slumber, anyways. Instead, Veriella is tormented by near constant nightmares and horrific visions. Sleep is no respite for her.

E'dalar walks by the temple, collecting herbs. At his leisure, he walks into the temple and notifies the first nurse or healer he sees that "sound" might be a part of the solution. He would leave saying "it might be worth delving into".

Verielia is tormented by the nightmares and visions and is unable to awake herself, if she could scream she probably would and quite loudly too.

// 30 mins. Feel free to meet and exchange notes, junior medics.

A third and final health report is released to the general public from the Salandran Temple.

The residents of Eilistraee's Shrine have discovered the method for separating the organism from its host. After two trial administrations of the cure, the Salandran Temple treated the rest of its infected with 100% success.

Induce Sneezing. The Salandran Temple recommends easily available sneezing powder or an admixture of water, alkaline salts, and alcohol, heated and inhaled through the nose. The former method induces sneezing, which is the body's natural defense against irritants and foreign particles entering the sinuses. The latter does the same by virtue of the contents of the admixture but also does some injury to the organism itself, causing it to react more violently.

The Salandran Temple recommends restraining the patient before administering the treatment, because the organism displayed the fact that it uses its control of the host in a limited fashion in order to protect itself. This may result in the organism co-opting the host and lashing out violently to separate itself from the treatment.

Everyone who visited or stayed at the Salandran Temple is given the treatment with 100% success. The "son of Vodak" has its minions cleaned from the bodies of those who have been infected.

Congratulations! You have unlocked 2 Easter Eggs: Theater of the Absurd and Meningitis

The play produced and put on by Director Schlomo, §, is an example of the Theater of the Absurd. It incorporates elements of existential/nihilistic thinking and a reaction to "cultural traumas" like war.

Some examples of the Theater of the Absurd:
Not I
Raw, homegrown absurd theater

The final stage of the organism's infection of the host registers to medics as meningitis as the organism collects like a baterial film over the meninges of the host's brain. As you can see, it makes the host significantly more "compliant" in these final stages, until at last the host ultimately dies and the body is fully surrendered to the organism, which then seeks out other infected bodies to "collect" itself, often by having the host consume the other organism directly from the brain.

Warning!

Graphic images.

Kurchin, though horrified by seeing the writhing, oozing masses he saw Verielia and another lady sneeze out, he was later elated that a successful cure was developed and administered. He still was as busy as ever, bouncing around meetings in the Shrine, and Bendir.

Later however, he came back to the Salandran temple. He'd stop by and ask if Jon Halifast was healthy, and if so, requested to speak to him. If he was able to arrange a meeting, he'd ask for details about 'the suspicious man with the suspicious package that ran through the lodge before the show started'...

Halifast is there and explains that it wasn't a suspicious man, it was a man he knew from the Twilight Stage, an usher. He says he complained about carrying around the giant crate of portal rods he had to collect for the show, but took it with him when the "chorus dis-members" entered the bar to cause mayhem.

Putting two and two together, it becomes clear that the poor usher ran outside and became one of Vodak's first victims, because it was from Vodak that the adventurers received the box.

After being de-oozed, Elor seeks out the survivors of the Vodak incident among the Triumvirin. Seeming genuinely happy to see those who did survive - even the ones he didn't get along with - he makes sure they have everything they need to be as comfortable as they can be.

He also asks them where they intend to stay until the rest of the oozes can be cleared from Triumvir, and offers a few suggestions among inns he's visited around the island - offering to pay for a comfortable stay for those who wouldn't be able to afford it.

You'll see. We'll get a few people together and we'll throw this thing out of our home.

Afterwards, he seeks out Jud'Vardas and insists to come along on any venture into the demiplane.

as per doctors orders verielia lounges about in the temple of love, more so than she already does, afterwards burning the dress she wore while expelling the ooze.

Before leaving the temple, Elor makes a donation of a half dozen thousand to the Salandrans, before heading out to finally get some decent sleep.

Kurchin thanks Halifast for clarifying the matter. He'd spend some time making friendly small talk to Halifast and the other surviving Triumvirrim. However, he wouldn't stay too long, his mind still focused on purging the Triumvir of the infestation.

Before leaving the temple grounds, he'd stop by the quartermaster and purchase a sizable amount of sneezing powder, if they'd allow the kobold to purchase such.

Inside the Eilistraeen Shrine's cells, Jud can be seen cleaning the place out after Elorathall has left with a caustic mixture of strong bases and alcohol, not dissimilar to Tazlin's mixture, save for less of a reeking stench.

Letters are dispatched from Jud to numerous persons regarding a potential attack on the slime in the Triumviir. They are sent to the following persons: Ulrik, Tuomas, Jackie Kenlyl, Sir Yaston, Idan, Mr. Halifast, Kurchin, E'dalar, Laurel Beestinger, Xaviera, and Belelad, with the simple request of coordinating a meeting for planning purposes.

//Toss me PMs with days and times you'll be available to meet up. I'll post a range of days and times once i've gotten enough info. Other people who hear about this ICly from those who got the letters and want to particupate are also welcome to send me PMs.

//Ok, looks like most people are saying Saturday/Sunday is good for them How about 5 PM US Eastern (GMT - 5) either tomorrow or Sunday?

((Either is fine with me for Laurel))

//Neither. Monday same time for any who can.

// I'm good for monday

//Likewise

//Monday. I get home around 5, so, I may be a few minutes late. But, should be there.

Make Me Come Alive or the Legacy of Neo-Vodak

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