Private Tales Wild Elysium

[Roki]

Roki blushed when he heard Mara sneeze. Maybe it was the sound, a small thing.

Master Brambleshell's eye's squint. "Just remember, dear," she said out to Mara. "Once you've got it all to a fine paste, we want to add it to the cauldron, and ignite the coals,"

Beside the mortar and pestle was a fat bellied cauldron, etched upon its black iron surface were runes of the six pursuits, all woven into a knotwork of lines that looked every bit wreath of tangled roots, branches, and vines.

A stone ladle was there beside the cauldron, placed high above on metal stints, and rested within a hinged contraption that made it all the easier to poor. A small bellows rest just beside the cauldron, its spiggot aimed at the bed of ash beneath the cold iron pot.

The cauldron was already full of water. And more water rest within the ladle. Jugs of liquid were laid about, neatly and clearly labeled. Bases, to give body to the reagents.

A wooden spoon rest near the cauldron.

All the while, Brambleshell administered her healing arts through a globule of water, which she guided with fine adjustments of her clawed digits. Roki watched, wide eyed as his flesh stitched back together, slowly, the raw red meat of his finger knit itself anew.

"It's... really itchy,"

Brambleshell huffed a laugh. "You'd think with all the cuts and burns you've been in here for, you'd be used to it by now, Roki, son of Floki,"

Roki blushed and looked away. Hoping Mara hadn't heard.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

"Yes, Master Brambleshell." Mara was questioning the healer's faith in her skills as she listened to the instructions given to her and beheld the cauldron setup.

"Erm..." Just focus on what you know, she told herself.

Once she had finished grinding up the herbs and adding enough water to reduce the mixture to a thick paste
(she remembered how to do that!) she concentrated on getting the fire started. She'd done enough of that in the old farmhouse to possibly get one started. Admittedly, fire-keeping was not her strongest suit. Among many other things that were not her strongest suit.

She set up a small pile of fresh coals beneath the cauldron and went to work. The bellows wheezed, sending a puff of ash into Mara's face. Sputtering and wiping the soot from her face, she tried again at a safer distance until finally the coal started to glow with heat.

Shrugging, she scooped the pungent paste into the cauldron and stirred it. It made her feel like she knew what she was doing, at least. All the while she snickered to herself.

"Roki, son of Floki..." she repeated beneath her breath, amused at the idea that maybe all of Roki's relatives had names that rhymed, and how confusing that would be whenever the family gathered for anything. Well... at least it was a great deal better than 'Mara, daughter of Blythe.'

An awful smell assailed her nostrils from the cauldron's brew, and she drew back in surprise. Should it be smelling like that?

Roki

 

[Roki]

Roki made a face as the smell of the concoction Mara cooked wafted through the air.

Brambleshell chuckled behind the curve of her beak. "That smells about right," she assured the young squire. "Bitter, with a strange earthiness that burns the back of your nose," she let go of Roki's hand, the healing mostly done, and ambled toward Mara, the sound of the cauldron bubbling clear in her ear. "Now, let the brew cool down," she moved slow about the work station.

Meanwhile, Roki looked over his once wounded hand. His pointer finger, which had shown bone before, now looked more like a regular old cut, though... the meat felt... weird. Like it itched, deep down where everything was knitting back together. Just as he was going to scratch and stretch and pull at the cut.

"Don't you even think about it, Roki," Brambleshell called back, her clawed hands clutched at a cloudy glass bottle.

Roki near hopped out of his seat, wide eyed as he watched Brambleshell help Mara. The glass bottle knocked against the counter.

"My, a fine brew," she assessed, without so much as looking into the cauldron. "Potent, by the smell of it, and quick acting," she laughed. "You can tell by the zing in its scent,"

The old Master set the bottle out, and reached down into some crates stored undeneath, produced a fine cheese cloth. "Here we are," she said as she set it down, along with a funnel, the spiggot. "Last step, is getting the fresh brew, into the container," she nod. "The less particulates you leave in the drink, the higher price it can fetch at market," she stepped away, slow like. "Goes down easier, and, lets the deep red, intensify," she imparted.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara cheerfully scooped out some of the smelly liquid with the ladle into a nearby bowl to let it cool before straining it. She found that she was actually enjoying the process of potion creation. Maybe when she was done with her imaginary swashbuckling career, she could settle into a cozy imaginary hut as an herbalist hermit, with her old sword on the mantle beside dusty knick-knacks from bygone youth.

Better the ending of Lost in Asheran Dreams than such a life! she thought.

"What is a par-tick-u-late?" she asked while straining the cooled liquid through the cloth and into the bottle.

"The bits of plants floating in the potion, dear," Brambleshell explained patiently. Mara nodded her head in understanding and watched the brownish liquid gradually change into a crimson hue, a bit mystified by the apparent magic of plants and water.

"What is it for? Something for Roki to carry around for the next time he tries to chop something off?" she asked with a chuckle. Not that she'd been concerned overly much about his attempt to sever his thumb; she'd seen a lot worse sent off to the healer before and return good as new.

Roki

 

[Roki]

A laugh like gentle knocks sounded from the great Testudo's beak. "It would serve for that, yes," she assured. "But I was going to venture to a nearby village, to deliver some medicaments, and tend to whatever ailments may be upon them," she let on. "So it will be used, gifted, traded, or sold, depending on how the adventure goes," she nod, and moved on over to a fine desk, a quick motion saw the drawer come open, and she fished out a single gold piece. Offered it over to Mara.

"Here dear, a part of what I'd be able to fetch for it at market," she pressed the piece onto the table beside the squire. "You can help me brew more if you would like, and I can offer you some wages as my assistant," Her eyes were bright.

Roki hopped off of the station where he had been attended to, and looked about the healing hut. Much as he loved cooking, potion-craft was never quite his tomato. Idly, he flexed his hand, as the itching set in.

"What village are you off to see, Master?" the young half-orc asked, as he convened about where they stood.

'Deroline," she answered. "Just a day south of Lanoline,"

Roki's eyes went wide at that. Looked to Mara. Lanoline was where the play was being held.

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara accepted the coin with a shy smile. A very generous reward indeed.

"That sounds... nice! Yes, I would like that," she admitted brightly. Learning to brew potions sounded fun, and maybe it would help her pay off the damages to the armory in lieu of taking her punishment through back-breaking labor.

Roki's look made her ponder the significance of Deroline. Oh, yes the play! She had quite forgotten in all of the recent excitement. Maybe she could go see it after all...

"When is the market?" She knew there were to be several showings of the play, and likely it was a weekend market. A plan started to form in her mind, if she could get the timing to line up.

Which, from Brambleshell's somewhat rambling answer, was about perfect. She remained skeptical that anything ever lined up perfectly, but she wasn't going to look this gift horse in the mouth.

Roki

 

[Roki]

Brambleshell was happy to hear Mara's response, and shuffled about the shop at her slow pace. "Good, then I'll let Syr Bebin know of our arrangement," the old testudo said with some finality.

It would take some time to repay the cost for materials of a Signal bullet, let alone the agents needed to prime the runic traps. But she was glad the squire had taken the offer.

"It runs at week's end, all the way through to the winter season," she let Mara know.

Roki cleared his throat. "Might be, we can, accompany you, Master Brambleshell?"

Had the old turtle any hair upon her brow, its raise and arch would be all the more clear. "Oh?"

Roki looked to Mara, then back to the Master, who fixed her gaze upon him know, wise and full of knowing. He cleared his throat. "I," he let the words gather in his mind, thoughts billowing as phrases formed, till ready to fall out of his mouth. "Well, I've heard other squires have gone on missions afield? Accompanied sworn, and pursuant on matters of, a wide variety," he tried to sound diplomatic. Or at least, what he thought sounded diplomatic.

Brambleshell's eyes twinkled with a darkling humor. "Quite,"

Roki's tusked smile quirked to one side. "I, mean, it could be a formative experience for us?" too unsure. He closed his eyes and nod again. Pushed a little more confidence into his words. "To accompany you to the market in Deroline,"

Brambleshell looked to Mara. "Is that so?"

Mara Tillerman

 

[Mara Tillerman]

Mara merely nodded her agreement.

"Very well," the old testudo finally agreed. "So long as you both behave yourselves."

Mara nodded again solemnly. She would surely try. Brambleshell looked back to Roki, her dark, pupil-less eyes calmly entreating his promise.

"Good. Roki, be sure to come back on Pealsday. Mara, please be here at sunrise tomorrow. We have some other potions to make... and a liniment as well! That will be good for you to learn."

"All right, Master. See you tomorrow," Mara replied and waited for Roki to join her before leaving the hut. She blinked at the contrast of bright sunlight to the dimness of the thick-walled hut as they emerged into the normal noise and activity around the monastery grounds.

She almost couldn't believe that her favorite play of all time was again within her reach! Not Roki's board, sadly, but she had accepted that it was not meant to be. Still, now she had a real apprenticeship - or at least a job. That was something. Maybe things were finally starting to go her way.

She was about to say something to her friend when a familiar voice came from one of the structures behind the garden.

"Roki!"

Roki Gruki (I think?)