The plague’s melody is dissonant, a corruption of the natural order. I have studied its patterns, cross-referenced scrolls from the eastern archives with the symptoms manifesting in the lower wards. This gathering… it is not coincidence. Each of you has been touched by this malaise, or possesses knowledge that intersects its path. Speak plainly. I have little time for tavern tales, but I require allies. The cure may lie not in a herb, but in a secret I once helped to silence.