As Flynn prepares to step out, he overhears the conversation. "He ate some of the cobbler right before he got sick,” he states. “I only had a bite, so if it is that, then he probably swallowed a much heavier dose." After hesitating just another second he adjusts his jacket and leaves.
Rallaak listens and ponders a little bit. He goes to collect some samples of the dessert, testing it quickly, only to discover that it was indeed contaminated with the poison, likely from the use of the same serving utensils. The largest portion of poison, he suspects, is in the lord’s cobbler.
"I'm pretty sure it was the cobbler, measuring by the force with which it was expelled from my body,” Terrence says weakly. "You know, coincidentally, I was once in a band called the Lord's Cobbler. Lead singer of course.”
While Rallaak fiddles with his instruments, Terrence cleans himself up with some water from a mop bucket and then exchanges trousers and shirt with the corpse of one of the attempted assassins. His armor is checked with his rapier, but he still doesn't feel up to venturing to find it. He still feels like vomiting but his insides now contain only viscera, which feels like it may be melting. "This reminds me of the theater parties they used to throw in Old Asphyxten before the money troubles. Only the hangovers after those were slightly worse."
Terrence certainly does not feel any better despite expelling just about everything he can.
"That blasted coroner is laying down on the job. The sooner she or he declares me dead the sooner I can get on with the rest of my decomposition." Terrence is now laying face down on the floor dry heaving.
In a dangerous political climate, several expeditions are made to the infamous Wilds in hopes of expanding the country, Urbane, and avoiding an all out civil war. But, when the lord in charge of the excursions is almost assassinated, tensions increase and put new pressures on the brave explorers.