[hider=Remix]
The man lied stiff on the hard floor, wrapped in the same dirty tunic as he had been for several days. His face lacked color, and his skin was visibly moist. His breathing was audible and raspy, and his eyes would twitch and flutter from time to time. He appeared no different than any of the other victims of the plague. He was middle aged, maybe older, but definitely able to work. His fingernails were thin, and dirt lined them. He turned his head to Remix and croaked, "Ask." 

It grew quiet in the rotunda, though one certainly couldn't notice that when treating a patient if they were focused.[/hider]

[hider=Morgan]

The Piper grumbled, visibly upset that his shaking performance had left the medicine woman noticeably unshaken. He casually strolled to the railing of the balcony, making the effort to appear as if he wasn't talking to her. "I had you personally invited, actually. I not only behave as the king's herald and court jester, but I also deal with... domestic disturbance. It is the reason that no one knows my real name, and few know my real occupation. I trust you to withhold that information now that I've confided it in you." 

He reaches into his wide, deep sleeve and retrieves a thin piece of board. He glances at it before stuffing it away. "There is someone of great significance with a horrid illness, and I need an herb. I have reached out in all directions to clear your path, so that you may deal with them as your patient; however, the person is of such authority and regard that they would not permit you to heal them personally." 

He turned back to Morgan, now surprisingly stern. His face was now rigid and his voice solemn. It was clear that the Piper played another role besides the king's amusement. He extended his gnarled right hand. "Before I can disclose details of the herb and of your reward, I need to know we have a deal." [/hider]

[hider=Dietrich]
The stranger, still hardly visible, continued, "You are one of us. You hold sway with the overworld, and you will pay your dues to us in time." 

Dietrich felt something wet and flat pressed into the back of his neck and removed with an audible pop. Whatever it was, it likely left a mark. Had Dietrich any more questions, he would find no answers, as he had disappeared. His eyes began to adjust to the darkness now, and he could see and hear the wind gently teasing the curtains on an open window, one that likely wasn't open to begin with. He could try and follow him, but it's likely that whatever he sought to do was done, and it would be fruitless to seek him further. 

It was best to continue towards the party with an uneasy itch on the back of his neck. 
[/hider]

[hider=Eli]
Julia sighed, letting her sleek shoulders slack. She looked away again, now clearly contemplating something. She sat back down; in their lengthy conversation, she had miraculously not attracted any curious eyes, except maybe one. She sits upright, and adopts a graceful, dignified tone. She folds her hands in her lap and says, "Very well. It's a shame that there's nothing I can do to aid you, but I don't think you'll be slaying anything or anyone. I hope your last kill was a good one." 

A silence follows, and the queen averts her eyes again, biting her lip. She pushes her untouched goblet of wine to him, saying, "The wine they offer the royalty is leagues better than the swill they're giving you; I'd highly recommend trying it before you bout. Please, try it. I insist."[/hider]