Chaos in the Caldera

[rassafraggin]

After inspecting one another for rogue elements, and finding plenty of that but specifically no tainted metal or hitchhiking greeblies, the group went out and returned through the fortified tunnel to the island fortress. Merrisol watches the discouraged and tight-lipped Maggie occasionally, but sees to the tasks of collecting up the protective suits, and going ahead upstairs with Ruby to initiate a quarantine and guard detail for the outer fissure. He comes back alone, to find the group reconvened in the Kelpie Sanctuary, and moves to find his shirt and the trump tin stashed within.

After being checked over and surrendering the apron, Maggie waits for the others to head up the stairs. Lingering outside the forge, she stares back at the pile of metal with the tell-tale bits of darkness showing. Folding her arms over her chest, she remains long enough that the sounds of the others have faded. Troubled, she finally turns and heads up the stairs quickly and is in time to be there when Merri arrives. Heading toward the main pool, she lowers her arms. Flexing her hands into fists, she holds them that way for a moment or two, then releases them and shakes her hands out to help relax them.

Mercier has handed his suit off and gone to where he was planning on going in the first place, back to the Kelpie sanctuary, watching Merrisol assign guards and quarentines and things like that, with a placid sort of expression, inwardly curseing. He goes over what he remembers of the chamber in his head as he settles down to feed the Kelpie, remaining, for the most part, silent about the matter.

Footwear comes off but the shirt goes back on, so Merrisol apparently doesn't intend to go full-on relaxed for this visit. He pushes his arms into the sleeves and stays unbuttoned while he walks closer to the edge of the community pool, gaze on the water and the multi-hued critters gliding about beneath the surface. The smallest of them breaks away from the pattern and begins to track alongside his position, Fritz's welcoming whinny can be heard, sort of. It doesn't breach the surface of the water so much as conduct through the acoustics of the cavern via subsonic frequency. Merrisol smiles at that, but looks back to his cards. He stops at Raphaela's, then closes his hand over the deck and looks at Maggie instead. "That was a good thought, Maggie.. to attempt communication instead of killing, first," he offers soberly. Oh sure, he admires it now, when back then he was like buhh-wha?

Maggie notes Mercier's position as she draws nearer to the pool and she offers him a slight, thoughtful smile. Once she has eased the tention in her hands, she tucks them into her pockets. Looking up as Merrisol draws near, she glances down at the cards as he shuffles through them, then lets her gaze return to the water. A sleek, black shadow follows Fritz toward the edge, a shadow shadowing Maggie's position. Sucking in a deep lungful of air, Maggie heard Merrisol's words and the ghost of a smile begins and fades away. "I did hope that it would reply. I wish it had. Oh well." Her attention drops to the Kelpie swimming closer, "Maybe it isn't big enough. Not... that I am going to go feed it." After a moment, she adds a much softer, "Thanks."

Mercier's charge, who tended to be a site standoffish and aloof, issues her own whinney as she notices the foodbearer, and swims up, away from the pack, as Mercier issues a bit of a greeting above water, "There you are, Segoline." He gives a bit of a wave to the Kelpie, who, with its two symetrical, slightly curved lines on its underbelly, eats with rapidity. Foodbearer was late! Mercier looks up to Maggie, and gives a bit of a nod, "Well, I don't blame you for taking the other option. Its hard to think of a mold as having a clear sense of objectives and communicatory ability."

Merrisol tips his gaze beyond Maggie for a moment, regarding Mercier and the bonded Kelpie. He looks up and away without remarking, though he looks rankled by something about it. "Normally I would say not, the nervous systems for higher cognitive functioning simply are not present. When dealing with unnatural matter, I can't make those same assumptions," he says, frown fading as he thinks. "However, this stuff has the appearance of a mindless colony running on a set of very specific, very powerful directives. If it's like the black mold from Thyasis, the source must be tracked and dealt with. Such manifestations have been anticipated since the Tsunami disrupted the seabed in all directions."

Maggie considers Mercier's comments, then weighs them with Merrisol's and her memory of the mold in Thyasis. Slowly, her hands lift from her pockets as her arms cross in front once more. "I was thinking that the mutated part might be more advanced. Or that it might grow into an entity eventually and might retain a sense memory of that. Though if so, it might also remember the fire. So... I don't know. It might be more accurate to say that I was grasping at straws." Her gaze does not lift while she speaks though she does move closer to the edge of the pool. Focusing on the kelpies, her somewhat sour expression eases a bit. Looking back to Merrisol, she nods, "Oh, definitly. Though I am not sure how we can track this. Unless..." Blinking twice, she pales, "You don't suppose that stuff was grown around here in secret... do you?"

Mercier continues to feed the Kelpie, periodically making notes and comments to her about how big she's getting, or urging her to get along, regardless if she actually understands. Mercier glances up, missing Merrisol's strange look, looking to Maggie, "Not that I begrudge the attempt at communication either, Captain." Mercier notes, before shaking his head, then stopping to ponder, "The area is... inhospitable to most life, though its apparently some could survive there. How long has that forge been there, to be an objective to such action... has this happened to metal here before?"

Merri takes Maggie's notion and rolls it around his mind in silence, mouth twisting into mulling shapes. A quick note is made of the snorting, expectant Kelpie kidlets, and he turns and strides over to the wall station with the feed. He comes back with a pail of chunked eel appropriate to their current size, and sets it between himself and Maggie while he hunkers down to sit the edge of the communal pool. That proves to be a mistake, as Ryika's chubster swishes in to investigate and possibly mooch up all the food that comes to be offered. "I'd like to say that clandestine movements would not be possible with all the undersea patrol and general military traffic that occurs through this region," he shrugs, leaning over and using both hands to feed and play keep-away between the youngsters, so they get fairly even shares. "The reality is that it didn't need to be cultured nearby. The currents, the changing environment, they could easily play a role in transporting the substance in through countless access points. I don't know how old the forge is.. a lot has been stripped out and built over, the chamber itself is likely as old as the base itself," he says, without giving actual numbers.

Maggie nods to Mercier in acknowledgement of the appreciation and the comments. Crouching down when the dark shadow rises closer to the surface. Reaching one hand into the water, she strokes the glossy black head of the Kelpie she has bonded with. Her expression softens back toward something less pensive, "Hey, Heidi. Decided to join us, did you?" Although it is unlikely that the creature understands, she does offer Maggie a sort of playful whinnie. Or, maybe that was to Merrisol who brings offerings of food. Foood, glorious foood... Sitting back, Maggie looks up at Merrisol. She murmers a quiet, "Thank you," as he sets the bucket between them. Reaching into it, she draws out a handful of chunks and begins to feed Heidi. Once the Kelpie rises close enough to the surface, the crimson swirls and maroon eddies that mark her curves can be seen. Considering some of what Merrisol says, she nods, "I thought about the military traffic, but considering his position, that would not have been too difficult to deal with. Though it certainly does not mean that the island was involved. It just would have filled in a couple of uncertainties about the prior events and given us some more information about this one. Reality rarely has anything to do with fantasy. Oh well."

Mercier whipes his hands a bit on themselves, before tracing the water a bit. His charge whinnies and follows the fingers around, swimming this way, then that way, then charging and head butting the offending hand. Mercier issues a "Hah!" before patting the Kelpie on the head, glancing to Merrisol, and furrowing his brow, "But... the chances of a strain like that hitting the forge? Don't organisms... change over time? It'd be more logical that that stuff was always there, wouldn't it be? And if it was... why hasn't it come up before..."

Merrisol drifts his hands under the surface, empty of eel yet still getting the occasional nibble. He headtilts and sideglances at Maggie for the phrasing of her last line. "That would be the question," he replies to Mercier after listening in silence. "I've never heard of such an affliction within the base, but I suppose as word circulates I will get a better history of the forge from which to draw upon. I don't think it's a stretch to imagine one such organism entering through a vent and multiplying rapidly once it set down on some viable material unnoticed. Especially if our suspicions are correct, that the Black Water is once again encroaching Rebma's territory. I need to get those trump calls out before we are called into the afternoon meeting," he says, drawing back with reluctance and maneuvering into a crouch. He looks at Maggie. "I'll see you there."

Maggie splits her final bit of eel between Heidi and Ryika's chubster though Heidi gets the lion's share. Not that the lion minds particularly. The smile on her lips is warm and gentle as her hands turn to nuzzling Heidi's hide as the kelpie finishes. What might be a burp escapes below the waves and Maggie's laugh is almost silent, echoing in her gaze more than from her lips. Looking up, she glances between the two men then focuses on Merrisol. "Right. I'll go with you, Kerf. I can call Quinlan while you call Raphaela. If neither answer, I can send a couple of birds letting them know we need to talk to them. Without giving details." Rising smoothly, she flashes Mercier a nod, "Excuse us, Templeton?" After drying her hands on a towel left for the purpose, she offers one to Merrisol.


************


Maggie is standing on what appears to be a spit of land in front of a gloriously monstrous waterfall. She lifts one hand to cup one ear and her tone is just a bit on the loud side, "Hello?"

Tromping noise in the alcove heralds Merrisol's return from the upper reaches. He's guiding Maggie down the steps by her elbow, while she talks to a trump caller and gets a lick of flame going in the other hand to make up for the diminishing light in the circular stairway.

To the image of Quinlan, Merrisol at some point joins the connection, uttering a genial, "Hey Quinlan," before going quiet to guide Maggie along a downward spiraling stairway hewn from white rock. There's quite a few turns to make, and it gets progressively darker and mistier as illumination sigils grow scarce. Maggie lights a little flame to make up for the vision loss."

To the image of Quinlan, Maggie moves down, down, down the spiral stairs. She is joined by Merrisol and gives him a distracted smile. Grateful for the guidance, she speaks to the person on the other end of the connection, "It is, isn't it? One of the nicer ones I've seen." Maybe she is dealing with things in some sort of order, for she continues to some other topic raised, "I don't. Run the Empire. Oh, paperwork. Right. Yeah, it does." Her attention shifts for an instant as she calls a flame to her palm to light the darkening way, "Sorry. We are almost there. Promise."

The image of Quinlan laughs. "Why apologize? I'm not the one doing the hiking."

To the image of Quinlan, Merrisol pipes up, "How's the climate where you are, Quinlan? You're minutes away from stepping into a furnace." He glances in a moment of visual disruption from Quinlan to a ethereally-lit cavern off to one side, before he proceeds beyond it and downwards once more.

The image of Quinlan says, "I can summon a nice cooling breeze. And I've been to Ember several times.""

To the image of Quinlan, Maggie does not pay the glimmering chamber off to the side much heed. "And how are you at dealing with heat? We have protective gear. I recommend it. The last time I spent too long in the chamber where we are doing I ended up needing to borrow a coat as my clothing did not survive." She nods, "Ah, right. I need to get back there. See if Cyndre is there." Lifting a hand as she seems to have come to a stopping spot, "Come on through. We'll aclimate a bit and let you get something on that won't burn and then go in. Ready?" That last seems to be as much to Merrisol as to Quinlan.

Merrisol guides Maggie beyond the steps over some rough patches, then approaches a well-guarded opening in the cavern wall. A volcanic fissure, formed long ago and since fortified, running just under the lava crust, towards a small island to the southwest, and closer to the heart of an undersea volcano. A heavy sweat can be achieved by those so inclined, just walking through the steamy causeway towards the Forge. At several points, the crust of the old fissure has flaked away to expose the tunnel to the sea, but the opalwood and shatterproof glass and ceramic fortifications keep implosive flooding at bay.
The guards let the party pass through on Merri's authorization, about halfway there, Merrisol pauses to break contact with Maggie's trump connection and take some protective wear from a bin. An full-frontal apron is cinched to Maggie, while he hikes into a pair of trousers. A suit is provided to Mercier, perhaps the same one he got before. They proceed to a safe point for Quinlan to come through, and thereafter encounter Ruby within.

Ruby is near one of the magma-fed trenches that helps redirect heat towards and away from workstations that run along the artery of heat. She's leaning back against it, an intense orange glow illuminating her upper back and sending a neat troll-like shadow up towards the uneven rock ceiling. It goes well with the brooding expression as she stares towards a the far wall. She's still dressed in her minimalistic leather bits. Modesty preserved, albeit not to Rebman standards of what is considered verging on impropriety. The black tinted goggled atop her head are askew but still manage to keep her hair back and out of her face. Though without the leather loop, what splays back from her forehead is like some twisted palm tree with octopus-like fronds questing to anything that would foolishly decide to sneak up on her from behind.

Quinlan arrives, and immediately enacts a small warding spell before summoning a nice breeze. "Yeah. Not unlike the road to Ember. Missing the fire-bats." He's fully geared for adventuring. Bookbag, staff, cloak. Sturdy travelers sandals. The works. "Is this Cyndre's other workshop?"

Overhearing, Mercier slips down behind Merrisol and Maggie, having once again donned a suit, though still devoid of proper tooks to collect samples, damn general ill-preparedness. Still seeing what a other magic users might do to the goop was worth the invonvienence. He mills about in the corner, keeping a careful look around the forge for more of the stuff.

Letting Merrisol assure that her visit to the forge will be without embarassing full frontal exposre, Maggie offers him a smile before turning to Quinlan. Spotting Mercier as he joins them, she offers him a nod, then moves forward to... pause. "Oh, remind me that I want to experiment with a wind, heat thing. Later." So descriptive. Well. Entering the forge, she lifts her voice, "Ruby? I want you to meet my cousin Quinlan. He is a wonderful mage and may be able to give us some insight into the stuff." Turning to Quinlan, she adds, "Ruby is a great smith. This is her forge. I don't think Cyndre ever knew it was here. I want to introduce them when there is time. Anyway. Ruby made some great stuff down here. She was showing us when we found..." Oh, Maggie. Just say it. "Well. We are hoping you can tell us something about it and I am trying not to prejudice your opinion."

Ruby doesn't look particularly pleased to see folk returning to the area. She pushes off from the edge of the workspace and looks ready to adopt a truely sour expression. But then the familiar faces help quell her natural reactions and she settles on a more neutral sort of outward demeanor. She folds her arms and then furrows her brows when she doesn't immediately recognize Quinlan. "What's all this then? Gots ideas crawling around an scratch'n the insides 'o skulls?" Ruby advances on Maggie and Quinlan and a few memories slot into place, jenga-style to allow recollection. Maybe it's the lack of his special /heroic/ flightsuit that throws her off. "Aye...Course. Listen. This ain't me fault." she unfurls an arms and swipes it towards a pile of metal.

Quinlan blinks, surprised. "Did anyone say it was?" he asks curiously. "What is it you want me to take a sniff at?"

"I don't think anyone has." Mercier notees from his little spot, watching Quinlan work, and giving the man's arrival a polite nod, "The only thing she's guilty of is making this matter a tragic one by producing high quality items."

Maggie waves to Ruby, but then waits until memory surfaces and Quin is at least accepted. Offering Ruby a reassuring smile, she adds, "No one is blaming you, Ruby. You would not do this." Turning to the pile of metal, she walks that way, "Come on, Quin. Let's start here." reaching into the pile, she finds a dagger to lift out. Turning, she motions with it to her cousin. "Take a look at this... Have you ever seen anything like it?" There is a bit of something black at the blade's base. It is sort of settled there, circling the base. Nodding to Mercier, she offers the blade to Quinlan in such a way that he can take it by the handle.

Ruby flaps her extended arm again at the pile of metal, hand whipping angrily. "Ruin." she grinds her teeth and watches Maggie and Quinlan inspect one of the tainted pieces. Mercier's kind words, and Maggie's reassurance do some good towards turning down her thermostat in this hellish place. Instead of bubbling over she's simmering now. Her lip begins to curl though. "'aven't seen any changes since we noticed. 'Appy as bloody barnacles. Yummah-nummah-friggedity-doo, let's crawl oop on this metal'n make't worth poo. Truth."

Quinlan accepts the blade carefully, so as not to touch the black stuff. He sniffs cautiously at the black stuff.

Mercier watches Quinlan get to work, cocking his head in one directly briefly, still remaining mostly quiely. Slipping towards Ruby, note notes, in a low tone, towards her, "I'll never get used to how they detect magic here..." He notes... before frowning, "Worthless? Could the new qualities of the material be smelted out? Or used in some... beneficial way?"

Quinlan remains in silent olfactory meditation over the piece in his hands for some time, not just sniffing the magic but really paying attention to what his nose is telling him. "It's the Road," he says at last. "But not an *intrusion* of the Road, I think. Something's here. Something of the Road, tainting your work." He frowns. "More than tainting. Feeding on it."

Maggie frowns as Quinlan finally speaks. A sinking in the pit of her stomach heralds a slow nod. Reaching out, she considers snatching the piece from Quinlan's hand in a sort of instinctive desire to protect him from the Road. As if he needs or wants such an intrusion. Her hand falls to her side, "It eats my magic fire, Quinlan. In addition to the metal here. How can we get rid of it?" Her hands lift then to indicate the tainted pile nearby while her eyes turn to the forge itself, "How did it get here?"

Ruby presses her broad lips together and stares at Quinlan. She blinks and starts shaking her head slowly. That doesn't sound good. "What tha bloody hell is that?" Her eyes bulge and she starts to pace. "I don't know nuthin aboot no bloody road." she looks towards the others gathered, almost accusing. "You know aboot this?"

Quinlan sets the blade down carefully. "I don't know where the source creature is," he says. "You're probably going to want a good tracker for that. Plenty of those in Arden. But the metal it's tainted ...you can't remove the taint once it's taken hold like this. I'm afraid anything currently tainted is just...toast, really. Your best bet is probably to follow the taint to the source creature, and drive it off, or kill it if you can."

Maggie glances at Ruby, then back to Quinlan. She replies to Ruby first, "Some. Not enough but some. It threatens all creation with chaos. But, Quinlan. You said a creature? It came from a creature? We... I have not seen a creature down here." Looking back to Ruby and Mercier then to Merrisol, she queries, "Have you all? Anyone?" Again to Quinlan, "What kind of creature, Quin?"

"The Road..." Mercier frowns beneath his visor. And thus something that would /not/ be a great weapon to use. Mercier points to the goop, then wheels his accusatory, gloved finger towards the forge, then points down to the island, "Here.... in the forge, in the island?" He glances towards the Kelpie sanctuary, "Where does anything from the road come from." He notes.

Quinlan shakes his head. "Something the Road's corrupted. Something that would normally secrete...well, something sort of like this stuff, only not so destructive. This goop stuff is alive, you see - it's feeding on the metal. You're going to need to get all the metal in here out of its reach, you'll want to starve it." He sniffs at it. "Aaand probably not try using magic on it."

Ruby raises her palms up and presses them to either side of her head. Almost as if she was trying to la-la-la this away into her imagination. She starts increasing her pace, coupled with sending worried glances to the shadows of the room. "There's nothin down 'ere but 'elpers 'o the forge, y'know...lay-bour...you folks, an me bloody stink. I ain't seen nuthin!" La-la-la.

Merrisol shakes his head wordlessly to Maggie's prompt about a chaosy critter-sighting. He nods briskly to Quinlan's suggestion of deprivation, and gestures to the segregated pile of Ruby's varied handiwork, off on the other end of the forge space. "Here's what we inspected and salvaged, Quinlan. If you could please run your senses over this area, could you give assurance that none of the metal we'll be transporting out," he pauses and adds for Ruby's nerve's benefit, "just for /now/... has been infected by the Road?" He assesses the load himself, figuring out the logistical needs for moving it out of the quarantine zone. "I'll ask about getting a tracking specialist from Arden." Gooood luck with that, /Warden/.

Mercier looks to Ruby, "Clealry there is..." Mercier says taking another look around the forge, "How safe is the entire island, if theres something here?" He asks, turning to Merrisol. He eyes the man briefly, "You've got enough problems. I've got some contacts there, did you have anyone in mind?"

Maggie leans back on her heels, arms lifting to cross over her chest. "Well." She blinks twice, "Okay. Something... Would it have to have come in here? Or..." Sidling a glance between Quinlan and Ruby, then to Merrisol and Mercier, she frowns, "What sort of creature sheds glop? Oh, I guess some do. Maybe something with a mucusy sort of trail. Like a snail? But... Wait. I guess it does not have to be big. The stuff grows. So..." She nods to Mercier's assessment, though she goes one or two steps further, "What if it can swim...? Yeah, we had best get someone to track it. It needs to be someone who can track through Shadow, if someone there can. What about Mox?"

Quinlan sniffs, frowning. Something in the air, or possibly just stuck up his nose. He heads over to a few more daggers, picking them up before goo can get on them. "No food for you, you're on a diet." Scolding thaumaturgical goo, there's sanity for you. He hands the rescued daggers to Ruby. "These're safe. And there's some more goo over there," he waves a hand at one of the hammers. "I think that one's probably a lost cause but can at least get other hammers clear. And yes, I'll be happy to check your outgoing boxes to be sure they're clear of taint, if you want." He blinks over at Merri. "You don't actually have to deal with the Warden if you want a Ranger's help, you know. Just hang around Eastgate and snag any passing Ranger to spread the word you've got a contract going. If any of them have the time free and the skill, they'll let you know. As to Moxon...I mean he's really good, but someone asked me to go get him earlier today actually, so I don't know that he'll have time. You can ask him though."

Ruby halts her pacing long enough to accept the items from Quinlan, staring at them as if they might try to leap up and latch onto her face. She lurches about to next squint towards the other tainted tool. She plods over and grasps it with her other hand. Grinding her teeth, she gets busy keeping things separated and placed correctly. She murmers something that sounds suspiciously like "Appreciate't." while she puts all her anxiety into physical labour.

Merrisol looks at Mercier curiously a moment like he suspects the other man of doing him a kindness, somehow, someway. "I only really know Aio.. and she's already on Rebma's payroll, so to speak," he frowns, and tilts his head at Maggie's suggestion. "And Moxon.. yes." He glances around the Forge. "It can't be left to chance to assume this is an isolated incident and whatever came in by whatever means, has done its business and won't reoccur later in the same way." He for one, certainly does not want to put their nascent smith through another crisis like this. "However, I will be investigating the known places undersea, from which Black Water has manifested previously.. Emor.. the citadel where Lord Evadyr was keeping the Lich Queen.. and of course, the Soldieve Deeps. It may have come from any of those places. That tsunami shook up the seabed and may have opened new inroads." No pun intended.

Quinlan nods. "This stuff follows metal. So...it came here, probably, the way the metal came?"

Maggie watches Ruby move from one pile to another sorting the weaponry and other metalwork by whether taint has gotten to it or not. "Well... How did the metal get here?" Looking between Mercier and Merri, she smiles a bit more. Encouragement for Merri to accept the offer and to Mercier for making it. Looking back to Quinlan, she inhales, "Could it have come here through the lava seeking food? I can't imagine that something would have slunk in from the cave system. Though I guess something could have gotten into the hot springs and then in here. I wonder where the metal was that was first tainted...?" She has been watching, right? Right, "I guess there is no way to know now. Darn it."

Quinlan blinks. "Uh. I was thinking more mundanely, Maggie. This is a forge. Who supplies Ruby's ore?"

Mercier furrows his brown at all the talk of Lich Queens and black water, "Right, well, it seems a good use of your time." He says, evenly. No, he's still not a fan, but, somethings are bigger then people. He blinks towards Quinlan, "Thats a damn fine question..." He hrms, "I know a Ranger or two who can fit the bill, one of whom is the Leftenant. I'll see what I can do to bring them here, with.... your government's approval, of course." Mercier says with a small, insincere smile.

Merrisol nods preoccupiedly, while going to help Ruby assemble the presumed safe metal into barrels, which will be given the final sniff-test of approval from Quinlan. "Being fireproof or having the means to be is a definite asset," he remarks. "The suits will only get one so far in here." The next step will be to carefully herd the goop to a single unit of metal, thereby limiting its growth potential, and getting to the 'starvation' point that much sooner. Can only hope Maggie doesn't get teary-eyed over that, now that Quinlan has positively identified the stuff as Black Road.

OOC> Merrisol says, "Yadda yadda yadda, quarantine still in place, guards still guarding. Already discussed with Ruby that time is going to march ahead after this so by tomorrow there will be updates."

Maggie shrugs in reply to Quinlan's saner suggestion that the metal arrived here pre-tainted. "No idea. But, she'll know. Or we can ask Martin." It is sort of a relief to think that it came in from elsewhere. And then it isn't. At all. "If it came in with the metal, we will need to check every other smithy or whatever that got metal from that supplier. Are you up for that, Quin?" Her tone is quiet and determined. Glancing over at Mercier, she flickers a frown at his tone, but nods once, "If you can find someone who can track, I can get them cleared, I'm sure." His smile is caught and she lifts a brow at it. She could answer that smile. She could. But, she doesn't. Instead, she looks back at Merrisol's activities, noting where the starvation point is to be. Then she looks up at the canon bits, back to Ruby and she turns on her heel to head for the exit, hands starting to release the apron she wears to protect her clothing, "I'm going to see if I can find out where the metal comes from. The quartermaster will know."

Quinlan smiles. "I'll help however I can. You know that."

OOC> Merrisol has confirmed, it didn't come in with the supply, or everything would be infected.