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 lowered his head in a slow, single nod. He understood her instructions, and followed her lead. He almost chuckled at Maxical's reaction to Eyja's 'girlfriend' being threatened by him. Eyja set her stage for Earana's demise, and they closed in on the Khajiit Caster. She really could not aim in this state, he thought as Eyja used his frightening countenance to continue her plan.

"Hey! Who touched my butt?!" Maxical cried, disoriented. From where I am standing that would be physically impossible. He thought wryly.

Finally, Eyja's sense for a poetic death was granted to Earana. The spell she had worked so hard to grasp and master was now her downfall. Too often he had seen the struggle for this illusory, temporary sense of control ruin so many individuals. She was worse than Maxical in her addiction to skooma; regardless of how it was brought about, Earana had given herself over completely to her lust for power. Then, to use and manipulate others into becoming her stepping stones, that was tying her own noose. So long as there was loyalty in the world, between friends such as they the machinations of those such as Earana would face this opposition. Gods be praised if they succeeded.

And with that, just as he had said, when the caster dies so too did their spell. Maxical slowly started to come around, regaining whatever sense of self she had prior. The aftermath still had her addicition left over, and the wounds that enacted the price of learning the power of the new spell.

Abiene left her last meal behind her. One could say it was her poisoning. Yet, somehow he knew that all this death was too much for her. Events such as these were more commonplace to he and Eyja. Even Honditar seemed a little off-put. Abiene and he were opposites. Two sides of the same coin. Whereas death was her foe, it was his profession. Yet, they both worked around the same foundations. Anatomy, chemistry, intimate knowledge of herbs and their effects, and how to deal with people in a certain way. What sprang forth from these identical qualities, was worlds apart. Yet, he'd met Healers that were the epitome of heartless, and knew Assassins that were the very definition of compassion. It was whether you let your profession define you, not that you needed a particular disposition to excel in either.


Honditar's inquiry for a potion that could cure skooma addiciton almost brought a smile to his face. He evidently had never heard of the writings "Confessions of a Dunmer Skooma Eater." There was no 'cure' as in magic. Rather it was a long hard road out of hell. A choice the individual must make to leave it behind, or not

. He once delivered this book to an ex-lover of his guildmate Ahnassi, in the Theives Guild. His inquiries with Jo'Basha; the book dealer and abolitionist in Vivec had him commenting that everyone knew there was no cure, and Khajiit especially would know this. Then, he handed him the book and said that, perhaps Khajitt know some things that aren't true after all.

"I can make a potion that can separate the drug from her system, definitiely." Seth started and was starting to complement his statement, but held his tongue. It would be best if she beleived that the potion would cure her. The mind, after all was a powerful thing.