Realised that Aidan's worry earlier on about infection in his leg was slightly incorrect, as he has previously been stated to have a paladin's immunity to disease. Changed that to indicate that he is worried about sepsis (blood poisoning) which is not covered by that immunity. Also made a longer entry here as I'd missed a couple of days thus far. Still working on getting my new routine off the ground.
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The party reached Fisherman's Solace in the early afternoon of the second day after the storm. In that time, numerous minor accidents had continued to befall them, though far less dangerous than had been experienced during the downpour itself. With his wounded leg threatening to seize up after the first few hours on the road, Aidan reluctantly began to ride in the cart with Brokk and Isolde more and more, listening to the halfling entertain herself in various games of chance to learn the name of their new oracular companion.
When Aidan had tried to argue that this was a pointless exercise against someone who could see the future, she had told a long and convoluted tale from hositan scripture detailing a competition between the three great trickster gods to be the first to learn the name of the new goddess of fate in the pantheon. By the time she had finished, smugly noting that it was the hositan deity Bunga who had triumphed where the gods of the other races had failed, Aidan was even more confused as to why she thought she could outwit a seer, and gave up on logic.
Instead, he turned his attention to Embla and her savaged arm. To his relief, whenever he checked, the wounds proved to be clean and responding well to his treatment, and there seemed to be no sign of rabies taking hold in his friend. This was a pronouncement he made just loudly enough to be reassuring, for he knew full well there would be no visible symptoms of the terrible disease for close to a month. By the faint look of amusement she had given him after the first time he had 'confirmed' the absence of rabies, Aidan also knew that she shared his knowledge of this fact.
Aidan reflected on the sad truth that, barring magical intervention, there was nothing either of them could do if the dire wolf had indeed infected her. A layman might have asked why Brokk, even if the effort exhausted him further, did not use his own magic to preempt the symptoms entirely - but despite his expertise, stretching beyond the usual limits of wizards, he was still an arcanist and thus unable to cast the curative spells required.
Not for the first time, Aidan found himself questioning that oddity, which was but one of the age-old divisions between the various recognized forms of spellcaster. Arcanists such as wizards and sorcerers could perform grand manipulations of the elements and of the mind that were beyond the ability of the most devout priests; yet even the newest initiate of a church knew of thaumaturgy and basic healing spells.
"I have got to ask Brokk about this one day," he promised himself, a little glumly. "If anyone can explain it to me in a way I`ll understand...well, it probably won`t be him, but I owe him the chance to try. And maybe one of his associates can succeed where he fails."
He considered this for a moment, then added: "Always provided we can find one in this wretched country."
*****
As with its neighbors of Kale and Daven, Kelerak was one of the younger nations, its history several centuries shorter than any of the lands to the east, and also theoretically free of the oppressive forces of the Wintervale. The legacy of those times, however, when the land was ruled by the demonic Lord of Lust was still keenly felt from border to border.
Aidan and his friends had experienced first-hand the aftermath of the Dark Occupation in Daven, a plague of undeath that had been initiated by the insatiable vampiric hunger of its overlord, the Lord of Gluttony, and exacerbated by necromancers and warlocks seeking their own immortality and eternal servants. In Kelerak, the lingering evil was more subtle, though no less obscene, and well known throughout the civilized world.
If you wanted a pleasure slave, of whichever race you fancied, you went to Kelerak. If you wanted to visit a new brothel each night for a year, you went to Kelerak. If you wanted the mystical aphrodisiac pollen of a snow rose, you went to...Anaria, actually, but the safest routes were through Kelerak.
It was a common knowledge that had spread like a miasma, and decent folk did their best to keep it from their thoughts, knowing they could do nothing to change matters. It was all too ingrained, so it was believed, and so long as it remained out of sight, it could be kept out of mind. Little of this was spoken aloud, or admitted in writing, and scarcely even alluded to save among the lowest dregs of society - with two notable exceptions.
The first of these were the secret temples of the prohibited faiths in the Occupied Realms, who taught their clerics and paladins of this insidious influence, so that they might better combat it if their travels ever took them there. As part of his training, Aidan himself had endured several trials of faith to withstand the devious seductions of succubi summoned solely to tempt him into sin. Even counting some of his experiences since, that time had been one of the most difficult and unpleasant of his life.
The second came from within Kelerak itself, from the impassioned oratory of its newest and most popular nobleman, the Baron Russel Starsul of the Greensreach. His fiery sermons, delivered with equal fervor from pulpits and street corners alike, were regularly carried through the land by his followers, and even across the borders by merchants and tinkers. If any one thing could be deemed responsible for Kelerak's unsavory reputation, it was this.
