Origin of Legends

Beginning: The Plague Doctor, Pt. 1

"Did you hear of the Plague up at Sorecroft's peak?" said a burly man in his early 30's to another human who sat at the bar.

The man was broad shouldered, burly at the chest and looked like he could definitely be one of the last men standing if a brawl were to strike up; which was certainly common-to the enjoyment of the half-orc bartender who ran the place.

The other man was thin.  He looked as if he could stand to eat a few extra meals the Burly man thought.  He wore a simple long sleeved white cotton shirt.  A long Black coat hung over the back of his chair, nearly brushing against the floor.

"Were there any survivors?"  the thin man asked, his eyes widening as he looked up at larger man.

"Of course there was.  Me!  It takes more than a Plague to bring down old Pete!"  the Burly man exclaimed raising a fist and beating it against his chest as others in the tavern turned their attention over to the pair at the bar before raising their mug into the air in a cheer that filled the tavern.

The younger man laughed out loud, his eyes never leaving Pete as he chuckled to himself enjoying the pats on the back and praise from the other patrons.

"I 'eard that place was filled wit' Goblins and Bandits, how did ya end up in a place like that?" Asked the Bartender.  He was missing an eye and a tusk; lost in an accident during a Tavern Brawl.

Pete gave a sniffle before pulling out a large satchel and dropping it on the counter.  It landed with a thud as coins inside clinked together.

"I had some food an' I had wanted to travel to the next town over to visit my sister an' her Husband.  On the way I was ambushed and kidnapped, dragged away by my arms and legs to the fortress."  Pete said, putting a leg up on the stool and pulling up his trouser leg to show the various scrapes on his legs.

"By the time we got there they was already getting sick.  It only took a couple of days but one of the bandits got so sick he passed out in front of me.  After I got his dagger, escape was easy!"  he said, a triumphant laugh escaping his large chest.

"How did they get it?  Do you think we could be in danger?"  asked an off duty guard as a small scowl began to cloud over his face, and the tavern's noise dampened for a moment as the space between Pete and the rest of the patrons grew ever so slightly; until Pete shook his head and crossed his arms over his large chest.

"No I believe we are safe.  While I was stuck there I saw a figure in bird mask, in a long coat that seemed to hold the darkness of the night itself as he snuck around the fortress.  I always barely saw him, he seemed to shift in and out of existence but every time he appeared the rest of the Fortress would get even more sick."

"A single man?  Take out a fortress?  Y'er  pulling our leg laddie." called out a dwarvish patron.

Pete took a step towards the rest of the group, "This was no man my Friends.  No this was worse than any monster at the keep.  It was The Plague Doctor."

The thin young man at the bar and every other patron turned in, seeming to catch on to every word coming out of Pete's mouth as he told the tale.

"He was a myth in my mind until today.  I'd heard stories of entire orc war bands being found up near the Sword Coast, their flesh rotting away from some unholy disease that would impress Talona herself!  Not just the long tusks either. Goblin slave pits, Kobold dens; there was even an entire Gnoll Pack that was found dead in between High Forest and Southwood."

A stillness has overtaken the bar as everyone in looked amongst themselves, too afraid it seemed to contemplate how close such a force of nature had come to the village.