:I'm going to go look in on Vanyel, I said I'd do that if I found a moment: Belrun says, :as long as we're waiting an unknown amount of time for some god to get back to you:

:Of course: Rolan nods deeply to her, almost a bow, and slips off. 

The two Heralds follow at a safe distance. :Should we, er, set up camp outside or something?: Nina asks. :I don't know if the inn is safe for us, and I figure we should at least wait for Rolan to - have a plan, or something, before we leave and go back to Haven: 

:I wouldn't get in close if I were you, our backup mage is camping out a ways off. I'm not sure what your agenda should be though:

:We'll find somewhere nearby to wait, I guess: 

Amshalan carries her back toward the inn. :Well, that wasn't what I expected: 

:What were you expecting?: Belrun asks distractedly, updating Leareth at the same time, convinced that with enough practice she will be able to have two conversations at once.

:Dunno, for him to be less decisive than that, I guess?: 

:If this is all just some god's idea of how to tell Rolan to make the first move in talking to them...:

:Hellfires, can you imagine, that would be so depressing: 

:It's depressing anyway but it would be so aggressively stupid!: She slides off Amshalan at the stable, kisses her on the nose, goes to bother Vanyel.

Vanyel is sitting in what was formerly Savil's bed; she seems to have insisted on swapping with him, and is in the armchair. He looks mostly fine, albeit pale; the pile of crumpled, bloodied handkerchiefs on the bedside table is the only sign of anything wrong. 

"Hey Van." And to Healing-Sight?

His lungs are pretty inflamed; the bleeding is mostly just oozing and seems to be more from irritation, he's clearly been coughing a lot, than directly from infection damage. Vanyel is young and fit enough that he can get enough air without much extra effort as long as he's resting comfortably, but he would be very short of breath right now even just with the exertion of standing up, and he's wheezing a tiny bit even at rest. 

"Okay, I think you do not separately also have tuberculosis, so that's good. I'll see if I can get you breathing more easily." Heal heal.

Vanyel has been attempting some self-Healing, but Belrun's Gift is a lot stronger than his, and within a few minutes he feels noticeably better and less sluggish. "Thank you!" 

"You're welcome! Hopefully that'll give you the leeway to work on yourself a bit more strongly."

"I'll hold him to it. Thank you, Belrun." Savil's eyes narrow. "Kellan tells me Rolan is attempting to talk to a god. I'm really impressed that you managed that one." 

"What, really? Yfandes didn't–" Vanyel, halfway to sitting up, starts coughing again and reaches for his glass of water. 

"It was while you were napping." 

"A lot's been going on and it might be a god and I think Rolan got a bit fed up."

"Good for him, I've been fed up for days." 

"Yes, well, apparently he had a high threshold." She stands up, starts checking herself.

She is flu-free. 

:Still nothing from Rolan: Amshalan informs her. :But Leareth's Healer is covering you now, so you'd might as well take a break, I think: 

:Sounds good: She meanders back to Leareth's room to catch him up and snuggle in a minimally transmissive way.