Tarn stands outside Roots and Remedies watching the line of coughing and wheezing people with a look of annoyance on his face. Not necessarily at the people themselves, but at what they represented. That is...where his family was due to end up - his mother, anyway. His sister would rather stay at the temple praying for salvation. Hoping that her god or another would offer her some miracle cure, even though Lady Cirthana had had no more luck than she.

He sighs. His mind was awash with thoughts on just who could be responsible for this. His first thought, of course, was the Lumber Consortium. But why would they plague their own town? What would they gain from it? Then again, what would anyone gain from this? What does it do to have Falcon's Hollow dying from plague? A prelude to something bigger, or an accident of nature?

Deep in thought, he heads to The Sitting Duck, if only to get away from the wheezing for a while. He finds the tavern in much the same state as it always is. In some ways the familiarity was welcoming, but despite being in town for years he always felt like he wasn't quite as welcome among the locals as he could be. The fact that he still thought of them as "locals" and himself otherwise could be a factor in that. He approaches the bar and sits down, ordering a drink. "Usual please. Any new words around town?"