The weight of Kalenor's words hung heavily in the air as the elders stood in stunned silence, their faces pale and etched with worry. The Briarhouse was quiet now, save for the muffled sobs of the young boy in the corner and the occasional groan of the newest patient strapped to a cot. Kalenor stepped forward, his amber eyes meeting those of the elders.

  "This plague is unlike any I've encountered," he said, his voice steady but grave. "If we are to survive, we must act swiftly and decisively. The time for hesitation is over."

  The eldest of the group, a wiry man with a cane, cleared his throat. "What do you propose, Scalesworn?"

  Kalenor crossed his arms, his sharp gaze cutting through the tension. "Every villager showing symptoms no matter how mild must be examined immediately. We need to determine if they are merely sick or afflicted by the corruption. Those afflicted will be brought here to the Briarhouse, where they can be monitored and contained. This place will become our stronghold."

  One of the elders, a stout woman with graying hair, frowned. "And who will watch over them? We cannot leave them unchecked."

  "Your hunters and warriors," Kalenor replied. "You must organize them into shifts. They will guard the Briarhouse day and night, ensuring the afflicted do not leave and no harm comes to those who are caring for them."

  The elders exchanged uncertain glances. The wiry elder asked, "And what of medicine? How do we treat this plague?"

  Kalenor turned to the Briar. "Do you have healers those who can craft remedies or tend to the sick?"

  The Briar nodded. "Three. Old but capable."

  "Bring them here," Kalenor instructed. "We'll need their help." Reaching into his satchel, he produced several bundles of dried herbs and mushrooms, holding them up for the elders and the Briar to see. "These are ingredients I've gathered along my journey. With them, we can create a medicine to slow the progression of the plague. It's not a cure, but it will buy us time time to find the source of this corruption and put an end to it."

  The stout elder raised an eyebrow. "And where do we find these ingredients? The forest is vast, and we have no time to waste."

  Kalenor spread the herbs and mushrooms on the table, arranging them carefully. "I will provide a list of what you need to harvest and where you're most likely to find it. Send your best foragers those who know the land and can move quickly. Every moment counts."

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  The wiry elder leaned on his cane, his expression skeptical. "How do we convince the villagers to submit to examination or to risk their lives in the forest for these ingredients? Fear is already spreading, and panic will follow."

  Kalenor's gaze hardened. "Lying to them is not an option. If they want to survive, they must understand the truth. Tell them to come here and see if they need the medicine. If they refuse, they're putting not only themselves but the entire village at risk."

  The elders murmured among themselves, eventually nodding in agreement. The wiry elder straightened with a weary sigh. "Very well. We'll gather the villagers and explain what must be done."

  As the elders left to spread the word, Kalenor turned back to the Briar. "We'll need to work quickly. Show me where your supplies are."

  The Briar led him to a small room at the back of the house, its shelves lined with jars of dried herbs, roots, and powders. Kalenor studied the collection, picking out what was usable and combining it with the ingredients he had brought.

  "These will suffice for now," Kalenor said, laying the items on the worktable. "Watch closely. I'll show you how to make the medicine."

  The Briar nodded, his hands trembling slightly as he prepared to follow Kalenor's lead. Kalenor crushed the herbs and mushrooms together, adding water from a small pot and mixing them into a paste. The Briar mirrored his actions, gathering his own supply of herbs and mushrooms from the shelves.

  As the two worked, Kalenor placed his hands above the mixture, his amber eyes narrowing in concentration. A faint glow emanated from his palms as he poured his own Essentaria into the medicine, strengthening its potency. The paste pulsed faintly before settling into a vibrant green color.

  The Briar's eyes widened. "Is that part of the medicine?"

  Kalenor nodded. "Yes. My Essentaria enhances its strength and effectiveness. You'll need to do the same if this is to work."

  The Briar frowned. "But I do not possess your connection to Essentaria."

  "Then I will teach you," Kalenor said. "I'll write down the incantation. It will be enough to stabilize the mixture for now."

  The Briar's apprentice appeared at the door, his face still pale, but his composure somewhat steadied. "I've fetched the healers," he said.

  Three elderly women in worn robes entered, their faces lined with years of experience. The Briar explained the situation to them, detailing the medicine and their role in its creation. The women nodded solemnly, setting to work alongside the Briar and his apprentice.

  Outside, the sound of murmuring voices grew louder as the villagers began arriving at the Briarhouse. Kalenor stepped out, his sharp gaze scanning the growing crowd. Fear and uncertainty were etched into their faces, but beneath it, he saw a flicker of hope a desperate clinging to the chance of survival.

  As the Briarhouse filled with villagers seeking examination, Kalenor turned back to the workroom. The fight for Hallowglen's survival had begun, and he knew the coming days would test every ounce of his strength, wisdom, and resolve.