I'm out in the wilderness. I've spent all my money on medicine, and I'm already out of it. My followers' various debilitating conditions are becoming worse by the day and I am unable to further assist them in recuperating. Each night, I pray that we don't get ambushed by bandits, because there's no way we'd be able to stand up to them; not in this condition. I can't imagine it's long before they start thinking of mutiny.