There was no resting for Jack, Aiken, and Midge as their wagon rushed back towards Stonebarrow. The trip that took the better part of two days at a reasonable pace takes just over one day to complete. Not that Aiken was aware of the trip. For the most part, he slept through the journey. Even now as he awakes while the wagon rolls through town, he feels exhausted. To make matters worse, even with the blanket Midge wrapped around him in the night, he feels cool and can't stop shivering. The spots where he was bitten have gone numb.

"We're almost to that 'Witchdoctor' person I saw skulking about in town," Jack calls back into the wagon. "I figure he knows how to deal with supernatural nasties, diseases, and the like. So, just hold on a bit longer!"

Midge whispers to Aiken, "I heard the witchdoctor swallows live bunnies hole and smells like the tannery."

Aiken has mostly remained quiet for the trip, his usual arboreal energy being used to fuel little else than his shivering. As well as he can muster with his strength so sapped, he gives Midge an abhorrent look.

The wagon lurches to a stop and Jack hops off the driver's seat. Dashing to the cabin door, he then raps on it loudly. "Hey, you in there? We've got an emergency out here!" he calls out.

There's no sound from behind the door, and the long paper wards hanging from the front rustle slightly. After a few moments, however, it creaks open, and Jack finds himself looking at a black symbol on a field of white. An ophidian visage stares down at the otter from several feet above him, and crimson eyes move from him to the wagon. After a long and uncomfortable silence, the Rokuga finally hisses, "… What?"

And Jack doesn't look remotely disturbed by the large pallid reptile. "We've got an emergency. A friend of mine was bitten by some sort of magical vermite thing controlled by, well, an undead creature. Well, the Vermite King, really. I didn't know he was an undead … but that's beside the point. You're a doctor, you have to fix him," the Akwavi insists. Looking back to the wagon now, he calls out, "Midge! Can you help Aiken up here? And oh, bring my little box too."

"I don't 'have' to do anything," hisses Qing, the ridges over his brow creasing. But he glances at the wagon again and flicks his tongue. "Bring him in and lay him in the circle. Do not disturb the lines. Where did this occur?"

Aiken weakly swivels his ears in the doctor's direction, too tired and numb to actually move his body.

The golden otter helps the Kadie out of the wagon. "Coming," she calls.

Luxury Cabin #3
It can't exactly be described as "lived-in", but the spirit mage Qing has at least had time enough to arrange it to his tastes. Much of the furniture has been pushed to the walls and laden with books, candles, and jars that don't require a glance at their neatly printed labels to know you wouldn't want to stick your hand in it. Several skulls grin from tables, and the floor is dominated by an intricately decorated circle of fine colored sand. A few paper lanterns provide dim illumination, the windows having been covered to keep daylight out. The scent here isn't disagreeable exactly, but is chemical enough to tweak the nose.

"This circle here?" Midge asks, pointing with her free hand to the design on the floor.

Mustering his strength, Aiken manages to get to his feet, and hobbles inside the dwelling. His large, rodent eyes dart here and there in alarm. "What… what'll you do?" "Yes," hisses Qing, slithering out of the way to admit the odd trio. His pallid coils carry him to a table where he picks up a skull. The eye sockets are sealed with glass, revealing colored sand inside. "I will examine you to determine what's happened, but the more you can tell me, the easier this will be."

"It happened in some ruins about two days travel from here," Jack answers as he now helps Midge carry Aiken inside. "I was researching the legend of the Vermite King, a supposed necromancer of some notable ability from ages past. Turns out the blasted guy isn't dead. Well, he's dead, but his body hasn't quite agreed yet. Of course, it is composed of the entrails of vermites now, but that's more gross than anything else. Some of the bastard's pet bugs bit 'em." The Akwavi motions towards Aiken.

"Mm, Vermite King, you say?" The witchdoctor pauses, and another pair of arms unfolds out from under his mantle. A bony finger taps along the spines of several books before stopping at one, and the mage picks it up to open and begin flipping through pages. "Vermite King, Vermite King… hmm… "

"If you help us Mister Witchdoctor, I'll get you a nice bunny," Midge promises.

Aiken lays down in the circle, looking very apprehensive. And nauseous, definitely nauseous. "He was wai… he was waiting for me," the squirrel gets out.

"Eh? Waiting? Don't be daft, lad. How could he even have known of you?" Jack comments as he crouches down near the circle. "He was waiting for anyone to enter his lair. I suspect he can't leave it."

"My name is Zhu Ye Qing. Imperial Witchdoctor, I suppose, but the Empire has forgotten about me, for now," hisses the serpent. He stops at an entry in the book and begins winding his way back over to the circle in which Aiken lays. "Interesting. Yes, we lost track of him after the Necromancer Wars, but I suppose loose ends in Sylvania never snip themselves off completely." He hunkers down over the circle, supporting himself with a hand to get a closer look at Aiken. "Let me see the bite."

"Bites," Jack notes, "On his arm and leg."

Aiken cowers a bit as Qing towers above him, but offers the affected spots to the doctor. "Th-they're n-numb… and and he's going to… going to come find me… "

"Don't be silly. If he was going to come for you, he would have followed you out of that chamber," Jack points out. "Why do you think he's coming for you?"

Qing raises a lens to his eye… ostensibly to magnify the wounds, but he also mutters quietly to himself. None of it makes any sense: it sounds utterly foreign.

"B-because he c-can't," Aiken says, looking worriedly at the box Jack and Midge brought inside.

When Qing speaks again, it's in Rephidim standard. "A Necromancer doesn't have to go anywhere personally. If this man is concerned that the Vermite King will come for him, it might well be the case. You could say he's already here, in fact."

"Eep! Where?" Midge calls.

"Oy, you both worry too much," Jack notes as he looks between Aiken and Qing. "Scared of shadows and statues."

"Shadows?" Midge asks, shying away from… shadows… now.

Aiken cringes at this, exchanging a knowing glance with the witchdoctor. He keeps his mouth shut, however, and allows himself to be examined.

"In this man's wounds," says Qing, drifting a spidery finger over the bandages. "His vermites transferred something partly poison, partly spell. It is trying to mingle with and change his flesh. To sear it away with exorcism could do more harm than good. But I may be able to help. A moment, and I will conduct the ritual. Stay out of the way until you are called for."

Aiken's heart sinks. "C-can't y-you just give me s-some dried s-swamp root, or a p-poultice or something?"

"Already did that to slow down poison," Jack comments as he scoots a bit back from the circle. "If it could have cured it by now, it would have."

"Sh-should I go get Curiel?" Midge asks in a whisper, partly hiding behind Jack.

"NO!" Aiken shouts out, belying his current condition. "N-no! Don't let her kn-know!"

"Probably not a good idea to worry his wife… " Jack agrees, "She might not let him continue adventuring after all. That would be terrible."

The witchdoctor lifts himself up from the circle a short distance, but only to raise the skull he'd been holding. He flicks at one of the teeth in the jaw, which swings out of the way, and begins pouring a stream of sand that he uses to alter the circle bit by bit. As he does so, his murmuring becomes more of a cadence, a slow drone. Most of it is unintelligible, but some of it comes along in snatches of Standard. "Disciples of the Alabaster Tower, hearken to me. By the Western Crystal Spire, by the Eastern Crystal Spire, on my authority, a witchdoctor of the Old World commands the Brothers Aj'vess. Thith'vess, the Keening Blade. Baj'vess, the Searing Blade. Ing'vess, the Gliding Blade. You shall bind yourselves as I will." He pauses in his incantations, and looks now at Midge and Jack. "How well do you two know this man?"

"He's my student in the ways of archeology and exploration. He's been my shadow since I arrived in town, just about," Jack explains. "So … fairly well. He was fascinated with all the artifacts I've collected over the years."

The mage nods. "Good. You will be Thith'vess."

Aiken pulls his tail closer like a security blanket, eyeing the sands warily as they pour from the skull.

"Well, so long as he doesn't die I guess… " Midge mumbles.

"Oh, he's my neighbor," Midge notes.

"That would be a nice view to wake up to," Jack mutters and glances at Midge.

Suddenly, Aiken's shivering stops, and the squirrel goes stiff. "I don't care if he cures for me or not," he suddenly yells out, looking off into a nonexistent distance. "I don't wanna join you!" The Kadie starts to fidget, like a crazed man trying to get out of a straitjacket.

The otteress blinks, and notes, "I live under the roots of his tree… "

Qing frowns at the tensing. "We must hurry. You then, Akwavi. You will be Ing'vess. That leaves our subject as Baj'vess. Prepare yourselves."

Jack's attention returns to Aiken. "Uh, if I'm going to be Thith'vess, it might be better to be it sooner rather than later," he comments worriedly. "I think he's losing it… "

Aiken's thrashing intensifies, his massive tail starting to dart around wildly. "I don't want th' world! I wanna go home! Leemee alone!!" The squirrel regresses into guttural rodent chittering, little bits of Skeek here and there, but mostly angry gibberish.

"He's gonna start frothing!" Midge wails. "Then he'll kill us all, and we'll get in trouble!"

There's some more chanting on the mage's part, and it seems to grow chillier in the cabin. Some of the candles on the the tables gutter out to be replaced by cold blue light. All six arms unfold from under Qing's mantle, the skull and book set aside, and the top pair of hands come together with a clap that sounds more thunderous than it should be. A wisp that was circling the mage's head puffs out of existence, and pale fog seems to develop around Jack, coalescing into a snakelike figure with a long curved sword and ornate armor. "Thith'vess," it says, settling on the Akwavi.

More fog swirls around where Aiken lies, forming a similar figure as before, but his sword is wide and straight, with a faint orange glow. Something in Aiken's mind whispers, "Baj'vess," pushing at the other thoughts warring in him. "Take my sword. Take it with my hand. Don my armor."

"Hey, I always wondered what it would be like to be swallowed by a Naga. Now I know," Jack quips, amused. Even in the most dire situations … otters just can't take it too seriously.

Calming down some, but still shivering, Aiken hesitates. Eventually, he timidly reaches out for the ethereal sword.

Streamers of pale mist creep up to Midge, and another armored Naga seems to slither right through her, turning behind her and dropping its head over her shoulder. Its sword is slender, with a sharply pointed tip, and its wielder whispers, "Ing'vess."

Aiken's hand doesn't seem to move, but as he wills it to, he can feel some part of him reaching out. When the hand enters his field of vision, it looks large, covered in fine scales where its gauntlet doesn't hide it. Thick, taloned fingers close around the handle of the broad sword, and everything in the room seems to become blurry and wan. Aiken can feel the heat of the blade through his gauntlet, and he can't see Jack or Midge anymore… just three other snakes, two armored and one familiar as Qing. Between them, something like grotesque purplish worms seems to writhe from the floor.

The squirrel blinks in confusion. He's a snake? When… how did this happen? Was it the necromancer? "Wh-what's going on?"

"So … this Aiken is infected with … bait," Thith'vess (Jack), hisses in this strange 'reality'. Slowly, he circles the mass of tendrils, curved sword sweeping in a light circle as well. The blade then darts out, severing part of one of the worms. There's a disgusting hissing, bubbling, sound as that particular worm boils away. Unfortunately, there are many more.

"This is getting seriously freaky," Midge whimpers as she hides behind a table.

Aiken frowns a scaly frown, and looks to Qing. "Ssso, we jussst smash the wormsss?"

"Would you just let them smash you?" hisses the pale, indistinct form of the spirit mage. "They are spreading and chewing even as we speak. Growing fat on your flesh. But don't cut too deeply… we are here, and here is you."

Aiken is given pause at this, and looks to snake-Jack. "Don't get too enthusiassstic, I'm keeping an eye on you!" Reluctantly, the scaly-squirrel swings at one of the worms.

Aiken's blade hits and a surge of blue flame dances from the blade. However, it doesn't cut very deeply. But, those flames at least spread to the point Thith'vess recently struck and there it burns brightly. When it fades away, that spot is nothing more than a dark patch the worms won't go near.

"What? Have I ever harmed you?" Thith'vess (Jack) asks Baj'vess (Aiken). He continues to slowly circle the mass before him. As before, the blade sweeps in and cuts another couple away. Worm bits splatter across the nearby 'floor' and boil away.

"Baj'vess" just grimaces at Jack, and takes another swing at the worms. "They don't ssseem to be fighting back… "

Again the blade of Baj'vess glances off the intact worms. Only those already cut by Thith'vess seem to ignite and burn away. And the observation appears correct, they aren't fighting back. Perhaps they can't.

"Thith'vess," Baj'vess says, "we need to cooperate. You hit sssomewhere, and then I'll follow. That ssseemss to kill them quicker."

Thith'vess salutes with his sword. The serpent darts in and strikes with quick blows. Bits of worm fly everywhere as he circles, splattering on the 'floor' all around them. The fully severed bits shudder, then melt and boil away. The stumps left in the mass squirm and twist wildly.

Baj'vess waits for Thith'vess to make an attack, and then quickly follows up with a strike of his own. After a bit, the duo seem to have a system going. The serpent still feels tired, but that feeling is starting to let up somewhat.

And on this goes. The worms are many and as just a pair, they can only hack away so much in a pass and burn them to prevent regrowth. But slowly, there is a dent forming in the mass. It's shrinking in on itself and Baj'vess can start to make out something at the core … a small squirrel; Aiken.

Baj'vess freezes, looking down at… himself? "Be careful where you hit!"

"Hey, it's me. Is there really anything to worry about?" Thith'vess asks, snakelike lips splitting into a disturbing grin. Still, he does slow down and make more careful cuts, somehow managing to just shear away the worms without cutting the squirrel.

Baj'vess's swings are much more reluctant and careful now, the snakelike visage somehow managing to look worried and creeped out… if that's even possible for reptiles.

The last couple of the 'worms' are the hardest to remove. But somehow, the pair manages it without a nick. But, there's no chance for celebration as a painful screech fills the air! "How dare you take away my new toy!" it cries. The voice is all too familiar to Aiken; the voice of the statue.

Even as a snake, Aiken is taken aback by the voice. "I'm nobody's plaything, except my wife's!" he shouts. "You get back to your little box and stay there for good!"

"Yeah!" Midge cheers from wherever she's hiding.

The air all around the body of the Kadie on the floor shimmers, then starts to darken. A new form is appearing over the prone body of the Kadie … As it takes shape, its flesh glistens like obsidian. Runes curl and trace up along its many legs to the central body. The red eyes of a vermite (though they happen to be as as big as Aiken's head) glare at the three serpents with malice now. "I'm done playing. You no longer amuse me, or my master," it screeches with a voice like nails on a chalkboard. "If he won't be my master's toy, then all of you will be my meal." Its maw splits apart four ways, revealing rows of sharp teeth. A pair or mandibles quiver with anticipation of a long overdue meal …