When the pause drags on, you motion for her to continue. Looking uncertainly between you and her sister, she shakes her head in dismay. "My sister, Quelaag, was merely guarding this tower. I thought they had all lost their minds, no demon I have come across has shown reason. I-I would not have sent you if I only I had known. Our sister was trying to find some sort of cure before you fought... Queleah is very sick... it would seem that there was some sort of plague in the region and she... she..."
"Sacrificed herself so that I, and others like me, may live." The man on the floor interrupts, jaundiced skin weeping as his movement cause the skin of his face to crack. "Our Fair Lady, looking upon the wretched inhabitants of Blighttown and what they had become, took pity on me... swallowing the blightpus, despite Mistress Quelaag's orders to the contrary."
Raising an eyebrow, you make a show of inspecting the man. "Yes, I can see how healthy you look. She must be a very capable healer indeed."
Practically growling as he crawls toward you, the disgusting creature glares up at you. "Speak no ill of our Lady or you shall have me to contend with! My affliction is my penance... I serve the Fair Lady in whatever way I may to ease her burden. Were it not for my foolishness, she would not suffer so."
While you suppress your laughter at the threat, Quelana kneels before the man. "What did you do? No human sickness could harm my family."
"Mistress Quelana?" He asks in shock as he peers into her hood. "You... You have returned! I had heard rumors, but... not many remember the days of Izalith's glory, I was not sure if the stories were true. I-"
Impatience having won out, the witch slaps him across the face. "Focus! What did you do to my sister?"
"I-I did not intend... It was an accident, a mistake. I'm a pyromancer, you see... I was banished from the Great Swamp for my work on poison pyro-" His words were cut off as his body was engulfed in fire.
Both hands outstretched, Quelana sent forth twin gouts of fire. "It was you!" She snarls as the man screams in agony. "Perverter! Defiler! I gift your people with knowledge and you twist it into... into that! Now I learn you've turned it upon my own kin!" As she shouts, her flames grow more intense, the screaming dying long before she stops.
By the time she finishes, the room is uncomfortably hot and not a trace remains of the man other than a glowing stone floor where he once lay. Cautiously, you approach and put a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't seem to notice your presence as she stands there, staring down at the cooling floor she whispers. "It's my all fault."
Status: Healthy
Magicka: (25/650)
Choose 1:
[] Leave her be, she'll be fine. You have other places to be anyway.
[] Travel back to the Valliere estate.
[] Travel onward to Lost Izalith.
[] Go to sleep, your magicka is too low to accomplish anything.
[] Help her out, put her sister out of her misery. Quelana might not be able to cope with that on her conscience.
[] Write in.