While the nightmare was over, joy had yet to greet the heroes. Lying in bed with the worst fever in their lifetimes, their own breath against their skin felt like shards of ice tearing into their flesh. Scattered in their own room inside the consulate building, they had decided to rest and let it pass. However, their sudden illness had become a cause for concern for the consulate members.
In their eyes, the heroes had gone to sleep and woken up deathly ill. Was it a local disease that they weren't resistant to? Or was it someone's foolish attempt at poisoning? In either case, the security outside their room had become ironclad–not even allowing others from their own group to visit each other since the fear of a doppelganger wasn't exactly unfounded within such a diverse group.
One such doppelganger–or shapeshifter, rather–was sitting in her own room, smiling ear to ear, her eyes locked on her sleeping daughter.
