Ivan was still in the mud, shivering from the cold and coughing miserably. Pain still shot through his right leg as he looked up at Skylar, his arms crossed over his chest frustratedly. "Ve do not have all day." He coughed out, growing more and more embarrassed by the minute.

Raven walked it, carrying Ivan. "Nice place. Thank you for inviting us over." he said, putting Ivan down slowly. "It's interesting that you hang onions and utensils from the ceiling, I don't see that too often. But not quite as interesting as your clothes just suddenly cleaning themselves, along with the Caravanian's." Raven then paused to look at his own clothes to see if they were cleaned as well.

Ivan struggled to keep his balance as Raven put him down. He still seemed short of breath and very cold, his bad leg so shot it was barely useable at all. He looked around, though he couldn't see much through his blurred vision. "Thank you for… allowing us stay. We appreciate" Ivan stammered as he caught sight of Regina, not sure how badly he was screwing up his Common this time. His head was muddled and cloudy, and he barely even seemed awake. A red flush crept across his cheeks as he slumped to the floor with his back against the wall, in too much pain to stay on his feet.

Skylar stepped warily into the building. Use of magic in the area was obvious and would explain how she found them in the woods. He smiled grimly, memories of his home rising at the clutter. He wandered aimlessly over to the bookshelves and started perusing her bookshelves. The feeling of worn bookbinding and the smell of well read paper... He sighed and turned away.

"Regina, do you have any books with healing spells? I'm not sure Ivan will make it without something at this point." Skylar continued perusing the shelves, looking for any that could help.

Ivan coughed loudly, barely stopping to inhale rattling breaths. No... now is not good time to have an asthma attack. He thought, looking around as if to see if anyone had noticed. He got up, limping his way into the corner of the room just as he started to fail to stifle the urge to retch. His stomach twisted into tight knots as he struggled to breathe. For whatever reason his first instinct was to get as far away from everyone as possible, but he wasn't about to run outside again. But if he was going to throw up, like he felt he was going to, it would be best not to do so indoors. So instead of acting, he just stood slumped in the corner, feeling extremely conflicted and still coughing wildly.

Regina frowned as she stood and walked to her shelves. Immediately dismissing the scrolls, she kneeled to have a look at the books closer to the floor, tracing the various bindings - some of which looked rather old indeed. She dismissed the books entirely after a minute.

"Nothing suitable, but I might have something to help." She walked over to Ivan holding nothing at all and crouched to meet his gaze. "May I?"

Jameson followed behind as they entered Regina's house and took a quick glance around, the house seemed rather ordinary to him, cozy even in this weather. Although he wasn't certain of their safety, it didn't seem right to draw a gun in someone's house and so he holstered his gun back into his coat. He noticed that the house held an impressive collection of books and scrolls for a house in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't long before he heard Ivan's restless coughing, he turned around to see Ivan slumped in the corner while Regina crouched next to him. Jameson stood back and watched as Regina offered her help to Ivan, perhaps what she does next would give him a clue as to who she is.

Ivan nodded hastily, using all the strength he could muster not to vomit on the floor and pass out. It wasn't like him to accept help, but right now he was scared. He seemed to be ramping up towards a violent asthma attack, which certainly wasn't a position he wanted to be in. Not only was it highly painful, it was also extremely embarrassing. The last thing he wanted was for them to think they'd hindered themselves, bringing along a sickly child. He felt empty and useless, which hurt far worse than the pain that wracked his respiratory system and his right leg.

Regina put her hand on Ivan's bad leg, staring deeply into his eyes, as she pulled a small knife and lightly tapped it on his leg before putting it back as quickly as it came.

As she began to channel blue substance into his leg, she kept full eye contact and sent words into his mind.

Do not stay. There are no less than three demons here, and one of them is the cara-

She lifted her hand from his leg and stood to look at the group, sensing something behind her. "It is done." She went back to her seat.

Ivan's dark brown eyes widened as Regina stared intensely at him, channeling something blue into the warped, broken bones.
The pain in his leg alleviated to its usual dull ache, but Regina's message kept playing over and over again in Ivan's mind as if it was stuck. Why didn't it finish? What demons? His muddled brain could barely wrap itself around the cryptic message. Despite the pain in his leg being gone, his trachea was still spasming and contracting erratically, little air getting into his lungs. He couldn't hold himself anymore and he started to retch, bringing up what little was left in his weak stomach. His breath came in short, raggedy gasps, his face paling to a ghostly white.
@ArenaSnow

Still untrusting the woman, Baldur swallowed his caution and followed the group inside the cabin for shelter. He looked around the quaint looking room which reminded him a lot of his home back to the south. Without asking he decided to sit down on one of the chairs and take a load off as the boy began to give out. It wasn't any sooner that his attention was once again drawn to the party did he notice the woman healing Ivan's leg with some fancy looking blue magic. Looks like his hunch about the magic was right but at the moment she seemed to be helping so he'd leave her be... For the moment at least.

Raven was seemingly unconcerned. Ivan was receiving medical care now, through magic. "Just as I thought... This is no normal lady." he thought to himself, clutching the antimagic charm close to his chest. He continued to think. "Well, at least she's helping instead of just killing us off now that we're in here."

Ivan had finished emptying his stomach and was now dry heaving and gasping for air, having collapsed to his knees with his hands over his mouth to keep himself as quiet as possible. Even as he was, sick and very nearly passing out, what worried him most was that he might be bothering his caravan mates. His coughs wracked his whole body, sending his frail form into near convulsions as he tried to clear his windpipe, which seemed fully intent on strangling itself from the inside. Ivan seemed to be trying to say something that sounded like "sorry", a mix of clear and red fluid running from his mouth down his chin and dripping onto the floor, adding to his puddle of sick. He lurched forward as if to be sick again, but instead just crumpled on the floor, conscious but not really breathing anymore.

Robart lifted his visor. Not enough to move the shadows from his face, but enough for a more unobstructed view of the books on the shelf. He scanned the spines for titles. This was in no attempt to judge the woman, but rather some interest. She was of the magical persuasion, and Robart had never exactly been close to a magic tome before.

"Another mage, why am I not surprised." thought Jameson. He looked on as Regina performed her magic on Ivan's leg, the pain seemed to have been soothed and Jameson felt a slight relief knowing that she meant no harm, for now... However Ivan was still visibly sick, and Jameson winced at the sight of him puking his guts out on the floor. "Well that just ruined my appetite, but I'm glad you got it all out" said Jameson as he turned and slowly walked away from the scene, as tough as he is, Jameson couldn't stand the sight of vomit as it made him nauseous.

Jameson took a seat close to Baldur to empty his mind of that gross scenario. Then he turned to Baldur, and said in a quiet tone so as not to be overheard by the others, "Look Baldur, I can tell that you're not really fond of us, but we can all agree that we wanna get to the north alive and whole. Seems like the both of us are the only ones not distracted by the kid, and you're the expert in magic here, so tell me, what's going on here?".

Baldur continued to ignore the boy for the most part, instead focusing on a familiar sense of dread he often got more and more as he got older. Began to get lost in thought before being snapped out of it by Jameson. Baldur considered what Jameson said, he did want to get out of here alive obviously and the more the group knew meant less questions he would have to answer later on. Baldur leaned over to Jameson and spoke in an equally hushed tone "I'm not an expert in magic, I know a lot but not everything, but I can tell you for certain that something isn't right here. There's a bad tint to the air." Baldur said in a serious tone.

Ivan lay face down on the floor, curled up like a dead animal. He twitched for a while, then lay still and silent. His blank face was smeared with blood and vomit, but the way he was crumpled on the floor concealed that. If it weren't for the pool of his former stomach contents next to him and the stench that still hung in the air, and the dreadfully obvious fact that his gasps for air had ceased, he might have appeared almost peacefully asleep. But he wasn't. In scant minutes, the boy would be dead if the situation stayed as it was.

Day 3, Morning - @Sombrero
The bookshelves were composed of a wide variety of books, small, large, new-looking and some that looked like they should have by rights fallen to ashes decades ago. Most of the titles were not in the common tongue, typically having the apperance of books written in Arcanic, the language of magic, by authors ranging from unknown mages to the well known Jarjestys Magi order.

Day 3, Morning - All Characters

Regina tapped her fingers on the table, staring at the door with a small frown and weary eyes. The caravan master himself stood by the door with crossed arms, gazing over the group before walking to the chest near the door and pulling out a blanket and a few pillows, which he then arranged on and around Ivan before returning to his position by the door.

A few moments passed before a loud banging knock sounded, to which Regina flinched ever so slightly. The caravan master turned to open it, revealing a small, diverse crowd of figures.

"Caught by the storm too, eh? Come'n in, come'n in..." he waved the figures in as he stepped aside.

The first was a young man in common clothes, looking soaked despite the porch's enchantments, a few years older than Ivan. He walked over to the chest and shook the mat of hair on his head around. "Can't be more rainy..." he muttered as he fruitlessly brushed at his clothes. He looked around. "Hmm. Company?"

Regina nodded as the next figure came in. The next was an older man in a reddish brown, rune-covered cloak, plainly a magic user of some sort. Should Skylar have looked at this newcomer's left arm, he would see a rune familiar from the cultists in the south. The third man was bulky and barely fit through the doorway, scantly clothed and with every appearance of an uncivilized barbarian, almost shoving his way past the second arrival as he plopped down on the stool near the door groaning as he massaged his legs. His age was difficult to tell, considering the majority of his body mass was hair. The fourth and final arrival was different altogether, with every appearance of a highwayman, sporting dark clothes and two long swords on his back. "That'll be all," He said in a British accent to the caravan master, who closed the door and went to the right hand corner.

"Shall we?" He asked to Regina as he climbed up the ladder to upstairs. Regina, shaking slightly and using the table for support, followed slowly.

Raven was feeling like he was somebody who just listened to an inside joke and didn't get it. Who were these people? What did they have to do with anything? And most importantly, what did Regina have planned for them? Nevertheless Raven waved to the newcomers and greeted them. Just then he took notice that they were still wet for some reason. Why would Regina withhold her enchanting power on these people? Was it to signify that she didn't like them? That was a possibility. There was way too many questions that Raven had no answers to, so he just chilled across the room after waving to these visitors.

Ivan somehow managed to pull out of his unresponsiveness on his own, taking in a deep gasp and jolting as if he'd had a wire thrust up his spine. He took in deep, ragged gulps of air, the blue tint on his lips and cheeks draining away, leaving him pale with a thin sheet of sweat running down his forehead. His trachea finally relaxed back into a position where he could breathe properly. By the time his breathing slowed down, tears were running down his now flushed face. He registered a slew of unpleasant smells, looking down at himself and seeing what was once the contents of his stomach on the floor. He gagged a bit and almost went faint, quickly looking up and trying to remember where he was. He started with simple things, forcing himself to mentally recite his name, age, where he was from, where he was going... then the more complex details started to flood in, like the caravan trip and Regina, and his attack.... the last thing he remembered clearly was coming up to some kind of building, being carried by Raven. He assumed that was where he was now, although his vision was too blurred to clearly see much.

He carefully sat himself up, ignoring the ache in his chest. He was now surrounded by blankets and pillows on the floor, but other than that the room was a blur. "...Baldur? Jameson? Skylar? Vhere is everyvone.. о боже, у меня болит голова..." His words dissolved into an incoherent whisper, and finding he lacked the strength to hold himself upright he fell back on the blankets and pillows.