We moved quickly through the streets and alleyways, making as little noise as we could. The first mob was more dangerous than we had expected, thanks to that lingering effect on their attacks. I didn’t know how the elves had been warped and turned into that mob, but I was certain I didn’t want to know.

Thankfully, most of the mobs seemed to be in other parts of the city. Probably to the north, where most of the unburned houses were. Perhaps people were still putting up a fight, there? Either way, that was something they’d have to figure out, later. Most likely, it would be a job for the army, needing to surround and contain the city to make sure there weren’t any escapees.

For now, our concern was getting to the shrine, which was a blessedly simple affair. This part of the town was deserted. No, not deserted. The people had probably all been swept up in the mob. They were dead, or might as well be. Nothing we could do about that, now, except perhaps cleanse the disease, and make the elves thank us for doing it.

“Here we are,” Zinlana whispered. “Just across this street.”

I looked, and was puzzled. “There’s nothing across the street. Just forest.” And, indeed, that was all I could see, the edge of the forest on the other side of the packed earth road. No sign of a shrine, or anything else. On a hunch, I activated my ability to see magic, and was surprised at what I saw. “Wait, no, there is something there. I can sense magic covering the whole area.”

Zinlana smirked. “It is part of the wards. When activated, the shrine is hidden from the sight of those who do not follow the First of the Seldarine by an illusion, and even the presence of life is hidden by a more advanced version of the spell that allows clerics to hide from undead, hiding those inside from evil. It is an effective defense, as you can see.”

Siora nodded in approval. “Elegant in its simplicity. Using the illusion to make it look like the surrounding forest means people are less likely to come close enough to the illusion to risk seeing through it, or accidentally crossing the boundary. It might not stand up to someone actively searching for the shrine in particular, but a large force could pass nearby, and not notice it unless they are actively searching for magic. It is a good design.”

Fartooth chirped in laughter. “We can talk about how clever the elves are with their magic defenses later, once we’re inside, yes? Illusions do no good if another mob comes up and sees us passing through. They aren’t stupid, like zombies.”

Zinlana nodded once. “Right, let me lead the way, as there is a ward stone to suppress the more active defenses, which can only be done by a follower of Corellon.” We nodded at her, and she darted across the street, with the rest of us following in her wake.

Stepping off the other side of the street brought us crashing through the edge of the illusion. There was little question about whether there was a shrine here, now, because a fence made of wood and stacked stones stood here, with a wooden archway directly in front of us. Beyond, was a building that looked to be built into the side of a great tree, melding stone and wood together in a way that one might expect of the elves.

Zinlana pressed a symbol of Corellon against an indentation in the wooden archway. The archway glowed for a second, and then faded away. The Coronal Guard stepped through, and said, “Hurry, the wards will only be down for half a minute.”

Not wanting to discover whatever those wards did the hard way, we quickly filed through the archway, and into the yard of the shrine. Our entry had not gone unnoticed, however, as an old elf wearing a priest’s robes stepped out of the shrine’s door, holding a mace and shield that, while well-cared for, had clearly not seen battle in some time. They were too clean, too polished for that.

“Who are you? How did you get past the wards?”

Zinlana raised her shield to show off the symbol upon it. “Be at ease, Father. I am Zestari Zinlana, of the Coronal Guard. These souls, black though they are, came to investigate the reports of a plague upon Andor’s Hall, and I came with them, at the direction of High General Daephyra and Princess Findelye. They may be wicked beings, but they are not our enemy this day.”

The priest relaxed a bit, and said, mirthlessly, “That is well, then. We don’t need any more enemies as it is, with the town gone mad. Not that I could have done much, even if they were. I admit I was always more of a farmer than a fighter. Never much need around here, you know? And I’m not the young elf I used to be.”

I stepped forward, and said, “If it were just madness that has gripped this city, then all would be well. Madness can be cured, or at least controlled, and a mob of those driven mad will soon burn itself out. This, however, is something different, and something darker.”

The priest looked at me, and then noticed the damage done from the crowd. Back on edge, his shield ready, he growled, “They caught you, then? How long has it been? How have you not been turned? I won’t let you take the children, fiends!”

I sighed. “So, they can spread whatever it is that has corrupted them. I guessed as much. Do you know the means, or how long it takes?”

The priest looked surprised at my tone of voice, and said, dumbly, “Uh, usually it is within a minute.”

“Ah, excellent!” I clapped my hands. “In that case, it has been several minutes more than that. Since we haven’t joined a shambling horde, I can only conclude that we either fought off whatever method of transformation there is, or the healing magic cast upon us was enough to prevent the change.”

Vestele nodded slowly. “If it were some kind of magical disease, then the Mass Heal spell I used would have cleared away the disease. Since we haven’t changed, it must be that. Praise be to—” She paused, obviously thinking better of naming a Demon Queen in the middle of a shrine to an elven god. “—to all our gods for this deliverance.”

The priest sighed, and finally relented. “Oh, whatever. I’m too old to fight with those of your power. It is in Corellon’s hands, now. But, if you aren’t infected, and you aren’t here to commit some sacrilege to our shrine, then I would not be so rude as to leave you on the doorstep. Come in, then.”

Walking into the shrine, I could see that the building was packed with children, at least two dozen, just on this floor. Their eyes all perked up in wonder as we entered, though most focused on either Zinlana or Ebonheart. Well, at least with the younger kids. There were some who were clearly old enough to have adult thoughts, even if they did not yet have adult bodies, because their eyes lingered on the twins and myself. Of course, I was used to people watching me with that kind of gaze by now, so I paid it no mind.

The Coronal Guard nodded as she looked around. “Good, the consecration on this land still holds, despite the evil poisoning the land. This should clear the lingering effects from our bodies.”

Zinlana’s Mass Heal heals party for 200 HP.

The holy warrior cast her spell, and I immediately felt better, like a weight had been taken off my shoulders. Looking around, I saw the others had similar reactions. The priest, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow, and looked at Zinlana. “Won’t that anger Lord Corellon?”

The Coronal Guard shook her head. “As I said before, these souls, while wicked, are not our enemies this day. Indeed, it was their intervention that returned Princess Findelye to us, and focused the High General’s attention on Andor’s Hall. I believe that Lord Corellon would not begrudge my healing them so that they can continue to be the shadow that strikes at the darkness.”

The priest nodded slowly. “Very well then. I am Father Iolas Herzorwyn, and I am the priest of this shrine to Corellon Larethan. You say that you came because of the rumors of a plague? Well, I can say that there was certainly a plague, here. Unfortunately, as you’ve seen, it is not of the normal sort that we’ve seen before.”

Siora nodded. “Yes, we’ve looked at one of the fields nearby, and seen that there is a… pall upon the fields. A taint that was also present in the uneaten food on an abandoned farmhouse. Can you give us a timeline on what happened here?”

“Well, I don’t know about a taint on the fields, but I can believe it. A royal messenger came out months ago, at the start of the season, from the Queen, though she was a Princess then, ordering several farms to use some alchemical solution to try and increase crop yields. There was some grumbling, since farmers don’t like to change what has always worked, you understand, but seeing as how she owned the land, they went along with it.

“Anyways, the crops start growing, and the fields with the solution looked stronger and healthier than the others. Of course, everyone knows that it isn’t about one year’s yield, but what the long-term yields are. Like with rotating crops and all that. But, for one harvest, this year against the last? It looked good.”

He sighed. “First harvest comes in, and we ship it off for the capitol, like always, right? It was about a week after that, about two weeks ago, now, that it started. Couple of the farmers who’d been working in the fields got sick. Not out of the ordinary, this time of year. No one thought much of it.

“The ‘sickness’ spread to the farmers’ families. Being the only priest in the town, I did what I could to try and cleanse the disease, but there were too many for my skills, and it kept coming back. I sent word to the capitol, but no word came back.”

He paused, looking at the children for a moment, before continuing. “Then, on the tenth day, it happened. The first families that got sick turned, screaming as the disease twisted their bodies. And then, they began attacking and killing those around them.

“We quickly learned that the ones that were wounded would be infected, and join the throng, turning on those who, moments ago, were fighting against them. I gathered as many of the children as I could, while the adults tried to lead them away. I sealed the wards and threw up the shrine’s protections, which rebuffed the wretched souls, keeping this holy place, and the ones within, safe, at least.”

I nodded slowly. “That would have been four days ago, yes? Do you know of any others who have survived, uninfected? Or are these children all that are left?”

The priest shook his head. “I have looked out from the upper branches of the tree, and seen the fires burning around the city. The north looks like it has fared better than others. That is where the House of Records is, and it is home to several old soldiers that retired to Andor’s Hall when their time in the army was done. I would like to believe that they have held the line, where they can.”

Zinlana nodded. “Yes, I heard that Nindrol of the Stonewall was retired here! If he was not amongst the affected, I do not doubt that old sorcerer would be able to create barriers that would prove effective at keeping the mob at bay!”

I nodded slowly, and said, “In that case, Zinlana, you should probably make another sending from that sending stone, calling for aid. Right now, those survivors are probably keeping the mob’s attention. But if their barriers fail, or their food and water run out, then these things might start venturing out, around the countryside.”

There were horrified looks from all the elves at the implications of that disaster in the making, so I decided to distract them from the potential doom of their kingdom, at least a little. “In the meantime, we need to find a way to get over there. I would be very interested to know where the tainted grain has been shipped, since, if we consider the timeline here, people may already be getting sick, if they’ve been eating goods made from it.”

The priest shuddered, “Corellon preserve us!”

Zinlana just shook her head. “The Coronal has given us the tools to preserve ourselves. We shall make use of them, to the best of our ability, in His name. But, if he should consent to send more aid our way, then I would not turn it aside.”