Вилорп

→I remain silent. Chiaraxi purses her lips, indicating disapproval. I take the healer up the outside staircase that leads directly into my office, not wanting the customers in the tavern downstairs to suspect what's happening. Unfortunately my office isn't empty. I left without placing a locking spell on the door, and Captain Rallee and his new lady friend Moolifi are sitting together on the couch. Makri is standing uncomfortably by the door into the only other room, where Lisutaris is lying sick.

→"Has Gurd reported it to the Prefect?"

→"Palax and Kaby are sick with it."

→We hurry back towards the Avenging Axe. Chiaraxi asks me if it's the first case there's been. I admit it isn't.

→"Sorcery's no use against the winter malady. You can die just the same."

→Chiaraxi shakes her head.

→"Very bad, I'd say. Started coughing and then collapsed. I'd have thought such a powerful Sorcerer would have some protection against illness."

→"How bad?"

→Chiaraxi frowns, and starts loading herbs into a bag.

→"It's Lisutaris. She's come down with a bad case of the malady."

→"Makri? Is she—"

→Gurd curses under his breath. It's going to be difficult to keep this secret. A quarantine order is looking more and more likely. It's unfortunate timing. The tavern is full of mercenaries and soldiers. Gurd's business has never been so good. Provided the city doesn't get destroyed by the Orcs, he's in line for a healthy profit over the next few months. I leave him to his worries and hurry along to fetch Chiaraxi. Chiaraxi is alarmed as I barge into her office, possibly due to the fact that the last time I arrived here in a hurry was because Makri was about to die from a crossbow bolt, fired into her chest by Sarin the Merciless, one of the worst villains ever to blight Turai.

→"Not in her condition."

→"Lisutaris? Sick? Here? Can't she go somewhere else?"

→I depart. Before making my way along Quintessence Street to the home of Chiaraxi, I stop downstairs to appraise Gurd of current events. The brawny old Barbarian looks alarmed.

→"If she comes round, ask her about lending me some money."

→While I'm not at all pleased to have a sufferer from the winter malady dumped on my own bed, there doesn't seem to be a better alternative. It's a serious matter having the head of the Sorcerers Guild fall sick at a time like this.

→"Get the healer!" yells Makri.

→"I don't think that's really the best place for—"

→"Get Chiaraxi," says Makri. "I'll put Lisutaris in your bed."