Windfall Island

[The Humble Sage]

Ozal's

Dasha’s answer was a mirthless smile. “This isn’t a business proposition Ozal.” She responded. The Ferengi’s grin was unwavering. Dasha eyed his proffered seat. There were various patrons watching the exchange, and she supposed there was little wisdom in publicly rejecting Ozal’s hospitality needlessly. Dasha approached the bar and sat, though she waved away the drink Ozal offered her. She wasn’t interested in anything he was selling, him and his smug smirk. Ozal leaned in with a feigned air of conspiracy, “Now then, Dasha dear. What is this all about. It must be serious judging by the look on your face. Aren’t you supposed to be open right now anyway?” He asked with the lightest of tones.

Dasha glared at him as she responded. “You’ve been on this island pretty much since it was founded, right?” the Ferengi nodded, “Then maybe you’ve heard of this before. My assistant Kelp, he’s come down with somethin’ right bad, some kinda local affliction. It could be a toxin, could be a sickness. All I know is I’ve never seen anything like it back in Coasta del Sol, and I don’t know how to treat him…” she trailed off as she glanced around the room. There was no sign of Dellarosa, and no way of knowing whether he would even make a trip to Ozal’s today. “He’s gone all clammy and he’s got these painful- looking purple bulges on his throat.” Ozal’s already wrinkled face scrunched in distaste at the description, though she couldn't tell if the sympathy was genuine or just another part of the act.

Dasha was not especially pleased to be asking him about this at all, knowing Ozal he’d find some way to spin this into a favor she would owe him. But the truth was she needed a lead of some kind. Kelp was unlikely to get over this on his own, and Dasha would do it what it took to help him, if what it took was making a deal with Diablo, she didn’t have much of a choice. “You haven’t heard of anything like that before have you?”