"I'd try to help, but I think my abilities just got stumped by Ishmael's domain," mutters the little deity, his eyes returning back into a defeated scarlet. "Sorry, all of you guys."

“Ishmael?” the mortal echoed. It sounded achingly familiar, and the frustrating feeling of just barely missing an important memory overtook him again. He rubbed a hand over his face with an exasperated sigh. “Perhaps we could find him and talk to him, see if he knows what’s going on.”

"Ding!" Ark is done with whatever he's been doing. "You're all lucky I rolled high. So, your soul is wack." He points at the guy. "Like, real wack. Whatever that poison did, it affected your body and your soul, and your soul is still reelling."

At Galaxian’s circular response, the mortal’s face fell. “Oh,” he said, crestfallen. He didn’t really have time to ruminate on that fact, though, thanks to Ark. Having someone look at your soul and calling it “wack” was not really the most uplifting news in the world. “My soul is poisoned? What kind of poison does that? …. Am I going to die?!”

”No,” Huck rumbled. “You likely would already be dead if that was the case.” The Bushbeast was lying through his teeth— he had no idea what the poison’s affects really were, but having a panicking mortal wasn’t going to help anybody. A mortal with amnesia wasn’t much help, either, but he was willing to take things a step at a time.

“If we find a way to recover your memories, we will be able to piece together what happened to you,” Huck went on. “It appears there is much that we do not know, and it would benefit all of us to find an answer.”

"... Let me take a double take," the mage says, deactivating their current spell, and recasting another one to peer into the mortals bloodstream. Or wherever the poison is to analyze it.

Time crossed his arms while waiting for any results from his mage.

"Well. It was a close one. The poison is necrotic in nature. But whoever used it had in infused with magic to increase effectiveness." The mage explains, "Luck you found him. He would've died within the day. Sooner than later, too. But by now the poison has been extracted." They look to the mortal, "You'll live."

Echo spoke up, throwing her hands in the air dramatically to express happiness, "Yay! They'll live!"

"Are you asking him, or asking the rest of us?" Galaxian asks. "Because if you're asking the rest of us, I think retrieving his name would be a good start." He continues by justifying: "I think even if most of us don't specialize in memory-finding, we can find information like names more easily, and names can find out other information without other supernatural abilities."

The mortal’s eye shut in concentration. While the poison was gone, his head was still fuzzy, and anything he could bring up was disjointed and far away, as if he was viewing everything underwater. Nothing of use, it seemed. He opened his eyes and gave the deity an apologetic look. “I’ve got nothing.”