Tristan reached the farming community within a few hours as the sun began to set and the fingers of night slowly clawed their way up into the sky. Several large orchards and fields spread out across the flat land, with hardened-mud fences erected to split up different plots. The road had devolved from the stone-lined, hard-packed dirt to what he expected from a countryside – a few grooves from wagon wheels in the ground the only marker of a consistent route of travel. The buildings were all single story, made of bricks that he assumed were dried-out mud that had been sunbaked, with thatch roofs.

Farmers worked the fields – mostly Demonkin, with varying shades of blue and purple skin tones, with a handful of darker red scattered amongst them. Tristan walked up to the hardened mud wall along the road as he spotted one of the Demonkin who was picking fruits from a tree close by. "Hey there!" he said, waving a hand.

The farmer looked back at him – a woman leaning toward the younger side. But, Tristan knew that Demonkin were long-lived. Eloise looked like she was in her early twenties, and yet was over four-hundred years old. He had no clue how old this Demonkin actually was. But, the farm hand smiled softly. "Eyo stranger. What can I do for you?"

Tristan unfurled the slip of paper from his hip pouch and held it up, "Got a request to deal with some beasties bother you lot. I'm here to help clear it out."

The woman descended the ladder she was perched upon, walking over with a fruit she had just picked that was a deep, green color whose shape was that of an ear of corn, but had the smooth skin of an apple. "Well, you'd want to talk to Jerri. She's the hag that…" her face screwed up in confusion as she searched for the right word, "She's not our leader…but she's like…a coordinator? Makes sure the crops get planted, deals with disputes – definitely in charge."

Tristan nodded and furled the paper before sliding it back into his hip pouch, "Thanks-"

"You know you're cute," the farmhand said with a shy grin. "Been this way before?"

"I hate this bitch," Felicity grumbled in Standard Tongue in Tristan's ear.

Tristan shook his head, "Haven't been this way before. But, I'm not looking for anything except this work right now. Sorry."

The farmhand deflated but nodded, "Figured. Well, if you want a tumble, I'm in the farthest house on the main road." She tossed the fruit to Tristan, who snatched it out of the air. As he looked at it, she giggled. "Never had it before?"

"Can't say I have," Tristan replied. "What is it?"

"Aplincarn," she replied. "It's got some sweet to it when raw, but if you cook it, it becomes a bit sour. Still good, though. Especially on top of meat! Breaks down the tougher fibers thanks to the acid." She blushed slightly, "I…urm…I cook. If you want a meal instead of a tumble-"

"I'm good, thank you," Tristan replied as he heard Felicity practically grinding her teeth at the very forward advances of the Demonkin woman. He took a bite of the fruit and found it to be as sweet as sugar. But, there were a lot of seeds, and he ended up shuffling those to one side of his mouth. "Thanks," he said with a full mouth as he turned and headed down the road. Once he was sure the farmhand couldn't see him thanks to the trees of the orchards, he spit out the seeds and handed them to Felicity, and swapped to Standard Tongue, "Into the storage space. We can try growing them when we get home."

Felicity snatched the seeds and then rapped a knuckle on his head. "Give me a bite."

Tristan handed her the whole entire fruit and she scarfed it down greedily. "Tasty?"

"Mhmm," she replied. He could hear her licking her paw-claws, and felt the tiniest bit of fruit juice drip into his hair. "Now to find the Jerri lady."

Finding the woman was not difficult as she was very hard to miss and immediately yelled at Tristan as he walked past a large, single-story house with a huge porch. She looked like a grandmother, and Tristan knew she had to be at least a thousand years old, judging from Eloise's age to her appearance and making an educated guess.

"Hey! You here from Lockwood?"

Tristan turned and approached her, stopping a few feet from the porch. "I am. Marius Lestrange, at your service." He grabbed the paper and held it up, "Got a request to deal with some-"

"Yeah! Of course you do! Perfect timing, too." She pointed up to the now-gone sun on the horizon. "The things come out at night. No clue what they are, but the howls are terrifying. Do your job and clear them out!"

Felicity sighed into his ear, "She's such an old hag. So rude."

Tristan silently agreed with Felicity, and addressed Jerri. "Do you have any place that's a bit higher up I can get a good view from? Lots of trees in these orchards are going to block my vision."

The woman shook her head, "Nope."

Tristan lowered his voice to a whisper, "Felicity, mind doing the scouting from above?"

"On it!" she flew off.

Tristan dipped his head, "I'll come back once I've dealt with whatever it is to get your signature."

"Yeah, yeah. And the money, I'm sure."

Tristan shook his head, "No. I'm not in this for a reward. Just trying to build up a reputation."

The woman looked honestly taken aback at that, "What's this? You're not a guard – you don't have the livery. Mercenary? And you don't fight for coin?"

"Just trying to build my reputation," Tristan replied. "If these things come out at night, you should probably head inside."

"Oh, I was about to. What did you say your name was?"

"Marius Lestrange."

The landscape settled down to a near-quiet, as only the buzzing and chirping of insects and small animals that lived in and roamed about the fertile croplands made their noises. Tristan had his sword out, and was walking along the main road, doing a miniature patrol, until Felicity came flying down and landed on his head. "What did you see?" he asked her in the Standard Tongue.

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She tugged on his hair, prodding him to turn to his left. "Past the orchard here. I saw a group of weird animals coming out of burrows in the plains beyond. They were covered in feathers! Like…bird-dogs?"

Tristan made his way down the rows of trees, keeping his ears peeled for any signs of out-of-the-norm activity. The bugs had gone quiet, and the skittering had ceased. "Felicity," he whispered, "get some height and be overwatch." He spun his crucible and activated the full suite of spells in his armor.

Felicity flew off his head, only to be slammed into by something that jumped from the trees. She let out an "eep!" of surprise as she went crashing to the ground. Tristan turned immediately and got next to her. The creature that had tackled her was some mix between a mountain lion; with disgusting, putrid boils that feathers of all different types grew out of. There was an odd, lemon scent that accompanied the creature, and it let out a growl that mixed with a caw like that of a crow. He didn't hesitate to grab the thing by the scruff of the neck and yank it off of Felicity. He brought his sword along its neck and sliced – ending it in a gurgling growl as he threw it to the side.

Felicity immediately shrank down and wriggled her mouse-size form into his armor. "I'm not hurt!" she said as she hyperventilated. "But that was scary! I shapeshifted my fur sections to scales just in time!"

Tristan couldn't respond as he wheeled around, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling thanks to the Lucky Instinct fortune spell he had active. He dipped to his left as another of the weird mountain lion creatures leaped from the tree, and he brought his sword up to effortlessly cut its head off. This is ridiculous, he thought. Pushing the essence circulating in his body into his cloak, he shouted out, "Fall to earth!"

Twenty of the creatures fell down from the trees and landed on the ground – all of them the same weird mountain lions with ragged, mangy manes and covered with boils that grew feathers out of them. The boils and feathers were unlike anything Tristan had seen before, and his gut told him that this was not the way the species was designed by the Realm Protector. It was some type of disease.

With all of them present, he spun his crucible faster, and as they closed to attack him, he activated the rod in his bracer, using Chain Bolt, as all of the animals sparked with the yellow electricity. He quickly followed it up with a Bolt spell from another rod, discharging the effect and causing the creatures to yowl and crow in pain. Taking advantage of the opening, Tristan moved through them and with efficient strikes took off their heads. Within seconds, he had dispatched all thirty of the animals.

"Felicity, get out here. I want to fully check you over."

She wriggled out of Tristan's armor and flapped next to him. "I can make myself fur-less and scale-less if you want."

"Do it," Tristan replied as he eyed the corpses. "I want to make sure you're not infected with…whatever this is."

Felicity's body warped and distorted slightly as her entire body became feather and scale-less. She looked like one of those weird, hairless cats he had seen in Bhant's Holdfast on occasion in the arms of very wealthy noblewomen. To his immense relief, he did not see any type of injury or wound that festered. She did a quick spin, and her head craned around to examine herself. "We're in the clear!" she said happily. Her form warbled, and the fur and scales returned as she took her place atop his head.

"Do a fly-around," Tristan ordered. "I'll police the bodies. Tell me if there's more coming." He began to use his sword to leverage the bodies into a small pile. That took a good five minutes, and Felicity came back to report the all-clear. "Now then," he muttered as he crouched next to the pile of citrus-smelling bodies. "What the heck is this?"

"No clue," Felicity said as she landed on his head and made her paw-claw biscuits. "Check the Omnitome, maybe? See if there's a rejuvenation spell you picked up to diagnose this type of thing?"

Tristan took her advice and let his spells fade. Still spinning his now-two-thirds-full crucible, he activated the stored Pocket Dimension II spell and grabbed his Omnitome. Flipping to the section on Rejuvenation, he perused the pages until he found what he was looking for. Thankfully, the spell books from The Archive of the Citadel of Essence came in all manner of languages. "First Order," he said as he read aloud;

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Determine Affliction (First)

Spell Phrase: Voima minussa, käsken sinua tulemaan esiin ja selvittämään, mikä heitä vaivaa. (Power within me, I command you to come forth and determine what ails them.)

Spell Gesture: Place one hand over (not touching) the body, with middle and pinky fingers extended, thumb extended to the side, and both index and ring fingers pointing down at the afflicted individual. In your other hand, have parchment lain flat, and a prepared quill or pen. Direct the essence into the extended hand, and for the writing hand, channel one quarter of the essence utilized.

Other Notes: This spell will determine what afflictions are affecting an individual. It is recommended that you wear protective garments while interacting with the diseased.

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Tristan pulled an ink pen and inkwell from the extradimensional space and prepared it to draw on a ripped-out page of the Omnitome, using the cover of the book as a hard, writing surface. Using his left hand, he performed the spell gesture and incanted the phrase as he spun his crucible. Channeling the split essence was odd, and it took him a few attempts to dial in the proper flow of essence from crucible to each hand. His right hand wrote autonomously, just like when he would use the Discern Artifice spell to learn what spell was stored in an object. In the end, he had a small set of lines – and what he read was quite concerning.

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Subject: Diseased.

Affliction: The Feather Scourge.

Cause: Contact with a bearer of the disease.

Symptoms: Initial contact results in no visible change to the exterior of the individual. As the disease spreads, pustules form on the skin that contain feathers that will slowly sprout. Causes minor irritation, and as the feathers become more prominent, the mind is slowly driven to madness and a desire to spread the disease further.

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Tristan reflexively stood up and backed away from the corpses. Shit! He thought. "Felicity, get on the ground. Now!"

She hopped off his head and panic filled her face. "What do we do?"

Tristan knelt and put one palm on her forehead, fingers pointing down her face, with the middle finger on the bridge of her nose, one finger on her eyelid, and pinky and thumb on her temples. He spun his crucible and poured the power into his hand. "Voima sisälläni, käsken sinua tulemaan esiin ja parantamaan tätä astiaa vaivaavat sairaudet. Poistakaa tauti, myrkky ja infektio, jotta jäljelle jää vain puhdas liha." (Power within me, I command you to come forth and cure the maladies afflicting this vessel. Strip away the disease, the poison, and the infection to leave only clean flesh). The silver essence poured out of his hand and cascaded over her, and he saw a weird, reddish fluid surge from her pores to splatter on the ground before soaking into the dirt.

She wriggled and shook herself like a dog getting water off their fur. "Blegh! That felt weird! All tingly."

"I used Cleanse," Tristan said as he felt quite winded, his crucible at only half capacity. "Now for myself-"

"Not yet!" Felicity hopped back down to the ground and a good distance from the body pile dug up some dirt and began whispering as she cast some spell. The small pile of dirt in front of her shifted and became a glass box with concealed hinges. She picked it up and flew over to Tristan, handing it to him. "Put one in this!" She flew back down to the dirt and with another quick transmutation spell, returned with a pair of hardened, stone tongs. "That way we have proof. And you can't use that Cleanse more than once every five days. Better to get all the interacting with the corpses out of the way before you use the spell on yourself!"

Tristan gently grabbed one of the diseased animal's heads that had sprouting plumage from the affliction, placed the head into the glass box, and then sealed it. He tossed the tongs into the corpse pile. He repeated the Cleanse spell on himself, and saw the same reddish fluid spill down onto the ground. "This is a potent disease," he muttered. "I was wearing armor and only grabbed one by the scruff of the neck to pull it off you. This is bad."

Felicity frowned as she flew up to his head once more. "What do we do?"

"Report it," Tristan replied. "We have some proof – good, quick thinking, by the way."

Felicity smiled and made paw-claw biscuits on his skull. "Should we burn the rest?"

Tristan raised his hand, spun his crucible, and launched a Fireball spell into the corpse pile from the rod in his bracer. "Let's go get that paper signed and share what we found."

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