Storyboards: Act I, Scene 3

Scene 3 – Interior, tavern, night

Joeth walks into the local tavern, The Singing Sylph, exhausted and carrying a pouch with the few coins he's earned. The stars and moon are visible from the window. As he enters, a troubadour finishes read a scroll announcing the quarantine, and then walks out of the tavern, bumping into Joeth. He gives him a very disgusted look as he shoves him aside. Joeth walks over to his usual table where Iacopo is waiting for him, smoking one of his favorite cigars. A bowl of cheap looking fish stew (now cold) is waiting at the table for him. Joeth sits down to eat.
“Long line again, huh?” Iacopo asks, just before breaking into a coughing fit.
Joeth looks up, concerned, and says, “You've gotta quit smoking those things.” Iacopo coughs once more, eyes watering a bit, and nods his head.
“So I guess you heard about the quarantine?” Iacopo asks.
Joeth nods grimly, “Yeah… It looks like they finally figured out a way to keep the plague from spreading...”
Iacopo leans forward and speaks in a hushed voice to Joeth. “Look, I know you're not going to like this, but I think I found a way for both of us to get off the island.”
“Not going to like this?” asks Joeth.
“How could I not?” Iacopo continues to explain that the way off the island is by helping out a bunch of known cutthroats. He furtively points over in the direction of a table in the corner of the bar, where Mordechai and his crew sit, discussing something over a meal.
“Are you crazy?” says Joeth in a hushed whisper. “We can't help them! They're bandits. They'll take us out back and slit our throats!”
“I know you don't trust them, but this is our only way off the island. They need us to help them retrieve something they lost, and in return they'll take us to the city of Nurn,” Iacopo says, continuing to cough.
“How can you trust them at all? These guys don't look out for anyone but themselves. They won't give us any respect at all!”
“But they need our help. And in case you haven't noticed, nobody gives you any respect anyway. Besides, this is the only way besides swimming to get off the island.”
“Well I'm not going take the coward's way out and abandon my only friend. Give it some time, I'm sure we can find a way off the island that doesn't involve bandits.”
Just then, Joeth notices that Mordechai has come over to his table, overhearing their argument. Iacopo begins coughing a bit harder, so Joeth asks Mordechai what he wants. Mordechai replies that he was merely coming to see if they would accept his proposal. “How do we know we can trust you? Your kind is known for only watching out for yourselves.”
“Well considering the situation I don't think you have much of a choice.”
Joeth starts to reply but Iacopo cuts off his sentence, now in a furious coughing fit. Joeth looks over with concern, and then horror. Iacopo manages to make a gurgling noise in between coughs, and then he vomits up dark blood from his mouth and nose. He stands up, knocking over his chair, and then collapses to the floor. Joeth jumps to Iacopo's side, not sure what to do. He calls out to everyone nearby, “Help him! Somebody!” Some of the patrons run out of the tavern in fear, others recoil. Mordechai's crew looks over from their table, showing mild concern, but knowing that there is nothing they can do. Joeth cries out for help once more, and then Mordechai cuts him off: “There's nothin' you can do, lad; the plague's got 'im.” Joeth cries out for help again, and once again Mordechai cuts him off: “He's as good as dead!” Joeth steps away in horror from the very dead body of his best friend, and then stares with hatred at Mordechai and his table. “Cowards!” he shouts, and then runs out of the tavern into the night.