WG - The Mystery of the Poisoned Healer Options

[Grits]

(Continued from approximately here.)



Abiene in Chorrol

Eyja explained what would be needed for a complete recovery. “For the amount of metal you've been exposed to, you may need to keep taking it several times daily for at least a week, and do a restorative healing on yourself several times per day as well. The raw ingredients work better and quicker if you can stand the bitter taste. The potions are flavored, but are much weaker.”

Abiene started to reply. “I can stand the taste, but I’m sure an alchemist will be better able to…” Several times per day? She pressed her fingers against her face again, fighting down that frantic feeling. “I have patients to tend! I won’t be able to— I’m already taking far too many magicka potions just to keep up my workload. There’s nothing for it, I’ll have to ask for a leave of absence from the chapel.” She clenched her fists on her knees, anger creeping up through her fear. “Darn whoever did this!”

Eyja handed Abiene a list of ingredients. “Expect to be near an urn for a while,” she told Abiene. Then Eyja tucked her materials away.

Great, thought Abiene. I’m not going to go through a week of purging on the pot in my chapel quarters. She put that concern away for now and looked at the list.

Garlic
Sunflower seeds
Pumpkin seeds
Flax seed oil
Corkbulb root
Netch Leather
Scrib Jelly
Scamp skin
Kwama cuttle
Ash yam
The juice of a lemon
Dried seaweed
Charcoal

“Abiene, I need you to remember exactly how long you were at the inn, who you saw there, who brought you that tea, and if it was the same person you ordered it from,” said Eyja.

Abiene tried to clear her thoughts. “I reached the inn after dark and spent the night. There was a commotion when Irvana arrived with talk of vampires, and I ended up healing her in her chamber. I had a glass of Tamika’s last night with the stuffed mushrooms, plus a cheese plate with strawberries. This morning I ate a sweet roll and drank some kahve at the bar. A Dunmer woman was there, I didn’t catch her name. She was another guest. Lycus was sitting there, too. Yetta the cook and Lleris the hallboy were serving, but I got my breakfast from what was already set out on the bar. Bograk and Aravi were there, too. Oh, and I believe Kayla headed upstairs around the time I came down with Aravi. Honestly Eyja, I’m probably forgetting someone. I’ve been told to improve my situational awareness, but I’m not really sure what that even means.”

She hoped Eyja wasn’t too disgusted with her lack of information. She had not been paying attention at the inn because she had not been up to anything she felt she needed to hide. And Aravi’s troubles had been foremost in her mind.

“Then I got some tea from Yetta and went outside. I spoke with Dar’muktah and watched Lowren and the Argonian man cleaning up after the storm. Then I met Maxical. We sat on the bench chatting for a while. We have some mutual friends.” What happened next? “I must have been in a fog, because I can’t say how long we sat there or even what we talked about. I don’t really remember getting my things from the inn, but I must have.”

Abiene looked at the list again. “I can pick up a few of these things today at the chapel. Master Selvilo might have some of them, he’s a Dunmer. I can’t imagine why he would have netch leather, though. I’ll need to pick up my crystal ball so I can try to reach Darnand. He’ll know where Jerric is. That’s the alchemist.” She shook her head. “I hate to involve them in this.”

Abiene’s mouth went dry and her heart began to race. Perhaps that’s still the poison, she thought, gripping the bench’s edge.

.

This post has been edited by Grits: Aug 24 2013, 04:01 PM

[Black Hand]

Focus. The mental command came.

Causality. You know this.

These reported events,...are like an arrow shot at my heart...that lands at my feet. I choose not to pick it up and stab myself with it.

He read, and re-read the list for the potion, and examined all of the ingredients twice over. He felt the textures between his thumb and forefinger. He felt the weight with well-trained hands, becoming a far more accurate scale than most 'honest' merchants. He smelled the ingredients with slow inhales, comparing the scents to his knowledge, especially as scent was the sense most closely tied to memory. He compared notes, and thought through the process.

Technically, three different potions. Three different batches. Two will mix together...the third would make it toxic. He shook his head over the puzzle. This was the true challenge of Alchemy. Potion and Poison were so close in words, but also in effect. Too much and a life-saving elixir would take life just as swiftly. A little salt to change the alkaline level and a toxic chemical could be as harmless as water.

Well...water can be toxic if used incorrectly.He corrected himself, realizing he had drowned Men and Mer before. Never in rage,...just a powerful sedative and they never felt a thing, and no one questioned it.

Could the third batch be separated as well? He thought, and started to dip his pen and write down the equation, trying to balance it out the pen scratching slowly over the parchment.

Twenty minutes later, he finally got it and smiled slowly.

As ever, the simplest solution is usually the correct one. He said grabbing the sack and carefully placing the ingredients next to his workstation.

Abelle Chriditte was the Master Alchemist in the book: "The Cake and the Diamond", once I thought was a work of fiction, described an aged crone who fooled some thieves out of their diamond. Her blend of Alchemy was something out of a work of fiction to begin with.

'Field Alchemy' she called it. The surprising discovery of a young-ish, vivacious apothecary living in the propylon chamber of Valenvaryon, no less. The ancient, and mostly abandoned Dunmer Stronghold on the northernmost coast of Vvardenfell proper.

The denizens were Malacath worshippers. Orcs. A few challenged his right to pass through unharmed. It was an argument they lost. Then to come across her after he had acquired the index from Nibani Maesa at nearby Urshilaku Camp, where he learned of his destiny, seemed to be that same destiny unfolding before him.

"The Orcs here are not evil. I didn't approach them like they were. That's why I can live and barter here unharmed." Abelle Chriditte had told him.

"Teach me." he asked.

"Oh, my skills are for hire." she said with a greedy smile.

Many weeks passed and his skill grew. Until she said she could teach no more.

"Than..I am a master alchemist now?" He asked.

"No." She shook her head. "But, neither am I."

He thought she had swindled him. Until she explained.

"Firstly, the Mages Guild does not know everything. They try to standardize it, but the world is a wide, open place. If I learn every flora, every fauna in Morrowind...what good does that do me in Cyrodiil?" She asked, as he nodded, finally understanding.

"I move from province to province, I learn everything that I can. I may be considered a master here, but when I go to Hammerfell, my 'score' may as well be five." She explained.

"I learned how to break a diamond down at it's weakest parts using my wit and minimal resources. I bet those hedge wizards in Skyrim and Cyrodiil don't even know that you can use one in alchemical processes!" She laughed, not knowing how right she would become.

In these latter days of his life, it seemed he held onto a lost art. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds. They all held alchemical qualities that their value had made the world forget over time. But, he was older than this current world was, and some things should never be forgotten. No matter how small.

He added the final, secret ingredient to the potion. The one unifying aspect, the keystone that held it all together in perfect balance. Rarely did he laud himself, this once he would allow it.

Even enough left over for a backup. He thought, hiding it in the upper rafters, carefully wrapped so the vial would not break, should it fall.

One can never be too careful.