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]

Sethyas considered the plan. It seemed like it was a good one, and made sense. Earana seemed to be the type to send underlings out with the 'minor tasks'. Whether underling or mercenary, the Orc was definitely single-minded if his behavior's indications were accurate. Setting about finishing his task rather then tending to his wounds. But what most might consider a serious wound, Orcs would laugh at. You had to be tough to be an Orc.

He relented to Honditar's superior tracking skills, and knowledge of the area.

Unslinging his bow in anticipation, the chaotic nature of his plan was simply to have no plan.

If you wish to hear the Nine laugh, nine times: Then tell them your plans. One of the Monks was fond of saying, in the orphanage in which he grew up. It seemed to serve the situation well.

In that, until they knew the situation for a certainty they could merely act upon what little information they were able to glean. Until then, he would attack his enemies plans.

"Let's get to this Orc than. If we can take him out before he reaches Earana, she will be stuck in place." he agreed.

He only than started to notice Eyja's state. At first he assumed it was worry for her friend, and then possibly the hunger. He realized then the possibility that she still felt something at the end of a kill.

A trait that speaks well of your humanity, and poorly of your profession. You know the lines, but you can't hear the music, and I pray that you never do. He thought to himself.

He knew that whatever it was that gave him this...talent; as Master Andarys called it, was not 'normal'. He hated the thought that he could and would be equated with a heartless killer. If he examined his actions from an objective account, he was.

But, he still couldn't stand the sight of pain. He was telling the truth when he told the nameless assassin that the torture was not something he wanted to do. He still felt the familiar self-loathing over the act.

He shook his head once to clear his mind and followed Honditar on horseback, nocking an arrow as he prepared for combat, extending his senses as he had grown adept in over the years.

Their high vantage point gave them a wide view of the area, and he scanned for anything that might be amiss. An Orc trampling through the woods would certainly fit that description, and he had the increased confidence of their now-doubled party. Two Assassins, a Hunter and a Healer.

Honditar began to follow the tracks going North-Northwest. Quite fresh from their appearance, and the fact they were on horseback provided them with an advantage in terms of speed.

But not in Stealth.He thought, as a bolt buzzed past them landing two feet from his head in a tree trunk.

He glanced at it, Orc-make. he realized, as he jumped off the horse, smacking it in the hindquarters and yelling 'Hee-yeah!' to get it to trample blindly towards the general direction of the projectile's path.

He quickly took a covered position behind a tree, and drew an armor-piercing arrow.

His quick reaction took perhaps five seconds and he started to bark out instructions.

"Get behind the trees! He's got a crossbow, so that means our armor won't count for much against it."

He than began to scan for the bolt's source, tracing it's trajectory mentally.

He than saw him: Laying behind a log, using the position to effectively snipe at them. The terrain was still in their advantage however, as they were in the higher ground and had several stone pillars around them.

The Orc was preparing his next shot, and Seth then took aim. It was a difficult shot, the downhill trajectory actually working to the Orc's defensive advantage, alongside the range. Crossbows didn't have the versatility and speed of bows, but they didn't have the Archer induced errors either. Not too mention the pure power behind their punch.

He took a deep breath, and released his arrow at his exhale.