Eddie
It was no use to resort to violence for the sake of violence. The mob wouldn't get anywhere and their grieving would only hit them worse after the fact, granted blood or not. Burnings and executions were fleeting moments of hatred induced happiness. They were there to give the people a person to blame, to rewrite their views and twist their morals on what was wrong or right. It didn't surprise the knights or Josephine that the man that incited the riot at first said he would condemn Amaryllis if she was the only survivor. He may have disappeared into the crowd, but that did not leave either of the people watching over Amaryllis pleased.

Rolf grabbed Tagus' healthy shoulder and pulled the boy towards him. "If no one else makes it, they will come down on us without regard for their own lives." He whispered darkly.

"What should we do, Rolf?" The boy asked him, eyes gleaming with worry.

"If Amaryllis were to die, we wouldn't have a problem."

"We can't do that!" The boy said with a frown of disapproval.

"We are not going to kill her, you fool. We are going to pretend she died. Now keep your voice down."

"But..." The boy said aloud, then lowered his voice. "How are we going to do that?"

Rolf's plan involved Josephine and her unwavering loyalty for her friends. If she could just act the loss of her friend in a way that looked genuine, the crowd wouldn't suspect anything. The healer was in on it for the sake of his own hide. He wanted other victims to pull through, but in case he failed, they'd kill him. No, they had to use something as low as fakeness to reassure the people. How kindred.

The actors got on stage and proceeded to act. The healer said that Amaryllis' condition was getting worse and Josephine wept over her. Tears were hard to push out of her eyes, but they pronounced themselves, crystallizing liquid sour. Rolf and Tagus had saddened frowns each as they stood on either side of the noble, who hit the bed the shepherdess laid on, bodies blocking the view of the crowd curious about the development. They feared for the other victims, for, with it notice, Amaryllis was a beacon of hope for those that weren't exactly improving. The healer was quick to cover Amaryllis with a blanket and Rolf shook his head. He turned his attention to the people behind them and shot a fearsome glare. Then he turned back to Amaryllis and, along with Tagus, raised her body. Hopefully she wouldn't wake up now. Her condition was better and the healer managed to provide a bit of the poultice for them to continue the treatment after leaving. A sort of small procession took place as they tried to leave the apothecary. With any luck, they would be out in the streets and taking hurried steps towards the rented inn.
Bobby
Mercurio Whylder
Undisclosed location: Fargone

"You *Will* Be told no, Kharlyle." Mercurio tightened his voice and turned his head to the side to give his younger brother a side eye. He knew he would not be scared of him as Kharlyle had seen other monstrosities, often ones he orchestrated himself. But one thing they learned over time was that if the older brother raised his voice, it would be because someone had interrupted his train of thought.

And that he had a plan.

Mercurio turned his head back and smiled at Albert as he took the document into his hand. "Please, forgive my brother. How could he have forgotten about your mode of transport?"

"Anyways. On to business." He took a step towards Albert and guided him a little closer to the edge of the bridge's gap. The sound of rushing water beneath grew louder with each step as they approached. No soul outside a short radius would be able to overhead them.

"Like with any other business associate, both potential or long-standing, I must determine whether if such an... Investment on my part will be fruitful. How is it your right to claim the throne?" He asked as he rolled the piece of paper open, reading its contents.
Frankie
Amaryllis Sweetford
Iron Gate, Northwind

Darkness enveloped her in its warm embrace, and for now, Amaryllis slept peacefully. Well, it was a bit deeper than sleep. More like a state of unconsciousness, but it was better than the nightmares and the screaming. She was vaguely aware as she was lifted up, though it entered into her dreams, rather than being a true awareness of what was going on.

As she was lifted upwards, her dream interpreted it as her being lifted and taking flight. She saw Rolf and Tagus, along with Josephine, and dozens of people filling the apothecary. People grieving their dead loved ones; people pleading with their loved ones to hold on for a bit longer; and people caring for their loved ones. Whatever disease had struck the people of Middle, it had struck hard. A moment later, she was flying out of Iron Gate up towards the hills, flying over the landscape she knew so well, following the path she took each spring and fall when entering and leaving Iron Gate with her flocks. 
Suddenly, she saw the wolfmen far below her, howling up and reaching towards her, like jaws snapping, ready to devour her. To her horror, she was placed down right in the middle of them and they advanced on her. Just as they were about to pounce, she threw her hands up to shield herself, cringing and waiting for the blows. And yet... They didn't come.

When she opened her eyes, the wolfmen were still standing around her, glaring and snarling, but they weren't attacking. Instead, they looked rather nervous and kept a large radius around her. Clutched in her hand was a small bouquet of bright yellow-orange flowers with brown specks on decorating the petals. It was a flower she recognized well! But... Why was she holding them. She paused for a moment, then advanced towards the wolfmen, holding the flowers out towards them. They snarled and retreated from her. Odd... What did it mean? Why were they afraid of this flower? It didn't make any sense... Yet she took it to her advantage and advanced through them, travelling to the top of the mountain and into a bright light, back into darkness. 

Meanwhile, because of her silence and the incredible acting of her friends, the people of Middle believed that she had died. They felt no sorrow over her death, for she had lived longer than most of their family members. If she had been a witch, she was dead, and that was for the better. The group was able to successfully escape from the apothecary and into the streets, back to the inn and its safety.

Lord Albert Rhoderick
Undisclosed location: Fargone

Although Rhoderick didn't show it, he was relieved when Mercurio stopped Kharlyle. Of course, he hadn't cared whether his mount lived or died, for there was no one and nothing that Rhoderick really cared for. He was more concerned about the inconvenience of it all. 

He followed Mercurio to the end of the bridge, the water rushing beneath them. It was a chilly evening and the fog was so thick that he could barely make out the water and rocks below. He was already calculating a bit. Both of them stood at the edge, and either of them could go over it. Or they could both walk away together, unscathed and partners. 

Rhoderick clenched his jaw for a moment, then replied, "If you speak of pedigree, my family has been a member of nobility for almost as long as the kingdom has existed. But I speak of more than blood. I have plans for Northwind to flourish as never before, and men like us will benefit greatly from it. I'm not hindered by lofty ideals and morals like the others. I will claim the throne with or without you, as is my right. I don't take no for an answer." He glanced back at Kharlyle, then continued, "He's correct. I don't have an army. Not yet, but I have the funds to arm men and pay them handsomely. And I'm closer to the source than any other."
Eddie
Amaryllis, Howitzer, Josephine, Rolf, Tagus
The Gallant Pheasant, Iron Gate

It was not short of amazing what they just pulled. Amazing and cruel. It was not short of cruel for lying to those people, shirking from the virtuous path for deceit. It was not short of cruel for using their unconscious friend. It was all white washed in murky waters of honor.

The group of souls weathered by recent trials arrived at the warm inn that looked much more welcoming with a tower of a man acting as entry guard. Howitzer was alone all that time and found himself standing on the streets of Iron Gate. He knew all the faces of the guests, if for only some time some. It wasn't a very crowded building, which one could thank the high rates to rent vacant room. It wasn't a simple tavern added a few beddings in the upper floor. They were, after all, in the Inner Circles of the city. The inn was distanced from the apothecary a ways, with stares from people that had nothing better to do. There were some questions by curious guards, but then there were no more refugees around there. The Iron Gates were more prosperous nearing the heart of it.

Howitzer was glad to see the other knights and Josephine. He wasn't very complicated, not about things. The tall man didn't like many things, instead focused on the value of things. He started to use things for what they meant to him and why. There were things Howitzer never talked about, often leading to weird silences at the occasional little feast they had, offered by the kitchen staff, of course. But that was back at Raunkastel. In the summer of Northwind, in the roads of cobble and surrounded by buildings of crude and fancy in polished stones, Howitzer didn't have the comfort. At least he knew his enemies back at Raunkastel.

"Open the door for us, How." Rolf said.

The large man opened the door with a pull of his long arm and stepped beside the opening door to give them full clearance. It was not that one was needed, but the action gives the pair carrying Amaryllis the perfect space of fit in door to walk past in a rush and up the flight of stairs to one of the rooms they rented with the coin from their original supplies. Roderick was a cunning man.

The Knight Commander kept financial matters between himself and Josephine, mostly. There was some coin he deviated, usually on information for the better of their cause. It wasn't much use if not large sums back at the Heart and he didn't want to take chances with snobby guards from the inner circle. Contrast to the more straight and seasoned veterans of the outer circles, the guards were more arrogant and prone to abuse their made up authority. Information rates were through the roof, let alone an audience with John de Burgh.

Tagus and Rolf laid Amaryllis in Josephine's room. It was standard that there would be three people in that room. Amaryllis was sleeping, or more, when they lay her dormant body on the large bed. The frame was crafted oaken and was quite comfortable. Tagus sighed deeply and slumped his shoulders. Rolf smacked the nape of his neck with a good sound.

"It's not over yet, fool! You're applying the poultice. I'll go check on Howitzer." He said and turned To Josephine, who had followed them in tow. "Excuse me, milady." There was a strong contrast in manner, from casual to formal. Tagus was used to those drops, and they weren't really all that hard. They made more noise with slightly cupped palms than hurt. If there was any. The man went off and left the group of friends on their own. Josephine scraped a smile before sitting next to Amaryllis, hand on the bed, face high above, hovering over her friend's, watching. Tagus remembered what the doctor ordered and went to work, grabby hands onto the poultice in preparation for his hopefully smooth ministrations. Thus, he began to do what the healer did.
Frankie
Amaryllis Sweetford, Josephine, Tagus
The Gallant Pheasant, Iron Gate

Safely nestled into the Gallant Pheasant, all was still and peaceful. The people of Middle couldn't afford such a luxurious place to stay, so there was no fear that anyone would recognize Amaryllis and attempt to attack her. Had Amaryllis been awake, she would have been thrilled with her accommodations, as she had never stayed in such a luxurious inn. It was a rather lovely place, and it was a good place for her to stay as she healed and fought her affliction.

She slept peacefully, once more enveloped in darkness, and was unaware as Tagus applied the poultice to the angry red wounds that dotted her body. Everywhere that wasn't covered in one of those blood-red boils was pale and soft, still hot to the touch from the lingering fever, but no longer as incredibly high as it once had been. The poultice did help though, soothing her wounds and preventing the boils from bursting, for the most part. In the case of those that had already burst, it placed a protective coating over them and kept them from bleeding, which also helped. But the others in the apothecary had received the same treatment, and many of them had already passed, despite arriving after she had. Or perhaps because of their late arrival. Was what Rolf had said true? Had the fact that they had sought help after Amaryllis had been the difference in their survival? Or was there some other reason that the young shepherdess had held on for so long? She had, after all, survived the plague that had taken her family, and here she was, surviving yet another malady... It was easy enough to believe she was a witch, though she was no such thing! It was impossible to tell, ,really, as to why she had not succumbed to whatever disease it was that racked her body. One thing was certain, however: the disease stemmed from the wolfmen. Anyone that had been cut by them during the attack, now was afflicted with the disease.

Amaryllis laid quietly as Tagus applied the poultice, just as the healer had instructed. The poor girl would have been mortified, if she had been conscious and if she had known that the young knight was tending to her wounds! Namely because he had to apply it all over her feverish body... The poultice needed to be applied every few hours, as the healer had instructed, and her friends and companions saw to it that this was done. 

Finally, hours later, Amaryllis' eyes fluttered open. She laid there staring at the ceiling for a few moments, flat on her back as her exhausted mind attempted to catch up and determine where she was. She genuinely had no clue, as she had no memory of anything from the moment she had collapsed in the middle of the caravan on the way from Middle, when Tagus had rescued her from being trampled to death. Her body was stiff and sore, making it difficult to move, so instead of tilting her head, she simply shifted her eyes and attempted to get a better view of her surroundings. There! Tagus sat at the end of her bed, and Josephine was right beside her, holding onto her hand. Amaryllis smiled at that and gave her friend's hand a gentle squeeze before rasping, "Water..."