Completed Poison me, poison you. Aha~~ {Ninus}

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan took in the information presented to him by Ninus. So the inside was possibly to be reached by hungry people but it was highly toxic, resulting in sickness, if consumed. But Turan hadn't been eating the fruit directly. Someone had been farming the poison from the fruit and mixed it with Turan's food or drink, or possibly both, leaving him in the state he was in now. Ronan sighed. The daily dose he would have received brought his suspect pool down quite a bit to only three people. "And what will you do about it? You're supposed to create an antidote to help him." Ronan couldn't help but be frustrated. A problem he couldn't solve was difficult to handle. A problem he had to outsource to a madman talking with rats and who considered poison a she trying to protect her children was an entirely different level of difficulty. Lost in thought, Ronan left Ninus to do his job and rejoined the lady of the house upstairs in the study. On the way up he passed the servant but barely noticed as he tried to get a solution to the problem forming around him. He knocked softly on the open door before entering the study, where the lady of the house was nipping from a cup of tea, which Ronan presumed had some sort of relaxing effect. You could always count on lifelong servants to serve you just the right thing. And you could always suspect them of poisoning someone. Ronan sighed as he sat down in the chair and looked at the woman in front of him. "Ninus is still working on it. He said he should find the poison soon." Ronan didn't even blink as he lied to the woman. No use in revealing too much information, just in case.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus eyed him. "A cure is not found within hours or days. A cure is found with patience." he growled. "First we must be sure. No food will pass his lips that has not been made with mine own hands. It is the only way to make sure he recovers." Ninus couldn't help but feel proud of this poisoner. Using such a common, cheap, ambiguous method of killing meant that they would have to do what Ninus just suggested: have one singular person who couldn't have possibly poisoned Turan prepare everything he ate and drank. If he began to show signs of recovering, Ninus would know he was poisoned by food and drink. If he didn't, they would have to reconsider other options. Other options...he frowned to himself and looked at Cricet. Ninus looked at the poison. "But what if one didn't poison his food.." he mumbled. "My pet, we shall have to take over the kitchen. Guard the door. No one comes in or out." he told her, drawing a line with his foot in imaginary dust at the doors to the kitchen. Cricet understood. She leapt up onto the counter, ruffled her fur, and bared an impressive set of powerful fangs. Ninus smiled at her, and stepped past her out of the kitchen. He headed back up to Turan, looking down at him. "Perhaps not through your mouth has she kissed you." he said quietly. He grasped the covers and tore them from the bed with a flourish, revealing Turan's naked body. He knelt by his feet, examining his toes. "No fang of man's making has punctured here.." he mumbled as he separated the toes, examining the webbing. Then the man's foot bottoms. He slid his hands up his legs, his eyes raking back and forth, missing nothing. He spread his legs and checked the major veins, weak though the pulse was it was getting stronger. He ran his hands up hips, around genitals, his hands gliding over every inch of Turan as gently as a lover. He raised the man's weak, sticklike arms up and rooted through his armhairs, seeking entry points. Then fingernails, finger webbings, his palms, his wrists, his elbows. Every inch was checked, even inside of his mouth, which was stained black from the charcoal. "Has she stabbed you in the back?" he rolled Turan on his side with a grunt, examining his back with the same fastidiousness. He muttered to himself while he worked, opening a window absentmindedly. A rat perched on the windowsill and watched him curiously. Ninus was no whisperer of rats, he was simply mad, but the creatures enjoyed being around him. It was as if they told one another where he was, and decided to watch him. The rat was soon joined by two others, sniffing at the air inside the room.

[Ronan Dugal]

As the lady of the house kept her silence with Ronan, Ronan had no further use to remain in the room with her. Once more he left her to her own thoughts and feelings as he walked into the hallway. In the hallway he noticed Ninus walk back into the room and talk to Turan, knowing that the man could neither reply nor hear him. It seemed useless to do so. But he observed. He watched Ninus pull the sheets of his friend in one swift motion, almost theatrical, as he uncovered the patient. Ninus started at his feet and worked his way up Turan's legs. The closer Ninus got to Turan's privates, the less Ronan wanted to see. He turned away from the two men and walked down the stairs, looking for the servant and the maid. He found the servant in one of the downstairs rooms, used a lounge of some description, a few casual and highly decorated seats were spread out across the room with a low table in the middle. "The doctor has claimed the kitchen to himself and has forbidden anyone to enter. His... pet is guarding the place. I suggest you don't test the creature nor the doctor. Unless, of course, you're hiding something there you don't want him to find." Ronan grinned at the servant, but his eyes remained cold steel as he looked him straight in the eyes. There was no doubt that someone had poisoned Turan. All Ronan had to do was to find out exactly who had done it. "Tell the maid this as well if you see her. Where is she anyway?" Ronan wondered where the woman was. He hadn't seen her all day. "She's sick, ser. She has been for a few days now. We haven't seen her." Ronan sighed as he left the man alone in the room. So the maid hadn't been to work for quite a few days now at exactly the same time as Ronan had been called in to help his friend. Curious. Coincidence or planned? Ronan walked back up the stairs, realizing that he was moving back and forth through the suite quite a bit right now. Usually visits were confined to the dining area or one Turan's study upstairs. He rejoined Ninus in the bedroom and watched him as he worked. "Is there a way to tell who has poisoned him? Some tool or something I could find, perhaps?" Ronan asked, speaking quietly as he didn't want to disturb Ninus in anything important.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus said nothing until he had gone over every inch. When he found himself rooting through Turan's hair, he stopped and recovered him. He watched his chest, making sure his breathing was still stable. "No needle of man's making has pierced him." he said, shaking his head. No needle, no wounds of any sort other than a few spots that were threatening to become bedsores. "We must get her from his body...bar anyone from coming in the room...at least for a few hours." he said quietly. He knew the easiest way to remove the rest of the toxins from the body would be sweat. A lot of it. It would be one of the most uncomfortable processes Turan would ever go through. Ninus scoured the home for blankets. Blankets upon blankets. In the midst of summer he lit a fire in the fireplace and swathed Turan up to the neck in wool, linens, sheets, comforters, even winter blankets he was swathed in until all one could see was Turan's head sticking out of a wad of blankets on the bed. Ninus stoked the fire, sending heat pouring into the room. "Water must pass his lips. Clean water. Water in, water out, the body is but water. The poison will leech from his veins and blood, pushing out the foul as you feed in the new." he told Ronan. The charcoal had taken care of whatever was in Turan's stomach. The swaddling would help leech some of the lingering poisons out, whatever was lurking in his fat and muscle. Now all that remained was the antidote itself. Ninus made sure the blankets were secure and went downstairs and into the kitchen. He cracked open several peach pits, giving the flesh to Cricet to gorge herself on, and rooted around for a large iron pot. He filled it with water from the home's rainbarrel and put it over the kitchen fire, balancing a large lid on top in order to gently heat the poison. It smelled foul and bitter. Ninus dug around in his pocket for the silver miza he was given as a bribe. He dropped it in, and the silver began turning black. He would have to watch it. He grabbed down a bowl and began crushing herbs into it, adding a few strawberries, blackberry leaves, odd things from the pantry. When the silver was fully tarnished, he gingerly plucked it out with his fingers and threw it on the table. Cricet sniffed it and hissed, batting it to the floor with an angry look. "Silver to purify the heart of the tree, to take out her anger and her rage on what all trees hate most...tools a man uses to cut." Ninus told Cricet, pouring the liquid over his poultice.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan watched and listened to the expert as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom. So nobody had injected him with any of the poison, it had all been served via his food or drink. As soon as Ninus mentioned barring everyone from the room, Ronan closed the door behind him with both men still inside. The room was now barred. Without a word, Ninus brushed past him and went looking for something. Ronan was right on his heels until he realized the man was looking for blankets of all kinds. He disappeared from sight for a moment and found the servant, who he ordered to get him as many blankets as possible. While Ninus was starting to build his pile of blankets on top of Turan, Ronan and the servant appeared in the door with a loud of blankets of their own. Somehow, Ronan had found the time, amidst this blanket searching chaos, to slip out of his formal clothes and get into something more comfortable and less peacock. A nondescript white shirt and brown trousers covered his body as he carried the blankets inside. The servant seemed hesitant to enter the room with Ninus and put his stack of blankets down near the entrance of the room. Ronan dropped his blankets on the bed and let Ninus continue to build his little blanket covering while Ronan carried more blankets in the room. "Water it is. I'll take care of that." Ronan left the room together with Ninus as they both went for their respective duties. While Ninus was working in the kitchen, the sounds of which reached all the way up the stairs, Ronan was actively looking for cold water in and around the suite. He also needed something to hold the water in that he could use to feed his friend at the same time. Considering the carefully built stack of blankets, Ronan was sure he couldn't sit him up straight to drink. He found a vial used for measuring liquids when cooking. With his arsenal of mugs and jars filled with water and his measuring vial in hand, Ronan headed back into Turan's room, where he sat everything down away from the fire. He checked the windows for a moment to make sure everything was shut tightly and at himself next to the bed. The temperature was already quite high as sweat started to form on Ronan's forehead. While he filled the vial with a good scoop of water he looked at his friend, barely visible under all the blankets. "You just had to go and get poisoned, didn't you?" Ronan muttered to himself as he lifted the vial up to Turan's lips and slowly dripped water on them, hoping that Turan was aware enough to swallow when there was enough water. With one of the unused blankets, Ronan dabbed his friend's forehead and wiped away the sweat. Normally he would have tried to cool the patient down but hot was the key here. Cooling him down would have an averse affect on the process. Carefully, Ronan kept serving his friend water, as the... doctor who wasn't really a doctor had ordered. With nothing better to do, Ronan let his mind drift over the subject of Ninus' title in his current state. Mad Prince? Rat Prince? Doctor? Poisoner? Antidoter?

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus soon came back with the bowl of greenish, thick poultice. The temperature in the room had skyrocketed, and even he began to sweat. He sat down on the bed, mixing the poultice one more time, then set it aside and began unwrapping blankets. They were mostly just warm, and Ninus threw the clean ones in a pile. But the closer they approached Turan's body, the more foul the sweat. The final sheet was black with it, and smelled like rot and filth. Ninus lifted the sheet to Ronan to see. "The poison." he told him, throwing the sheet to the floor. Already he could see Turan's health improving. His skin colour was better, flushed with the heat, and the sweat plastering his hair to his face was clear, as sweat should be. The flesh around his eyes was no longer dark, though it remained sunken. The poison had eaten away his flesh, and it would take time to become strong again. Ninus opened his mouth and brought something from the poison kit. A long, rawhide tube. He fed it down Turan's throat, sliding it into his stomach. He picked up the bowl and began packing the poultice into it, sliding his hand down the tube to press it into Turan's throat. It was a slow, mechanical motion. His hand gripped the tube all the way down to Turan's mouth, then massaged his throat to push it further. The body's reflex took care of the rest. Ninus slowly withdrew the tube, wet with saliva and stomach acid, and set it on the same table as the bowl. "She is removed, and gone from his body. He is fixed with the same fluid that felled him, her rage removed, that he may take it and grow strong." he said. "His road is long and hard, and he may yet die, but not from her."

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan sat on a chair next to the bed, sweat running down his face and dripping of his nose. The chest of his shirt was soaked as was the middle of the back of his shirt. He stood up as Ninus entered the room once again, holding a pot with someting in it, which he stirred before placing it aside. As soon as Ninus started to work on the poisoned patient, Ronan pitched and helped him uncover Turan, picking off blanket after blanket. He noticed the smell got worse and worse the more blankets they peeled off and when the last one was revealed, Ronan staggered back from the stench and the shock. With the sleeve of his shirt in front of his nose and mouth, Ronan watched Ninus uncovered Turan from the last sheet, leaving the man naked and sweaty on the bed. Ronan looked at his friend and up to Ninus as he picked something out of his kit. Ronan had never seen something like it. Ninus slowly pushed it deeper in Turan's mouth and Ronan had to close his eyes for a moment to calm himself. Not used to seeing someone getting a tube pushed down their throat, Ronan made sure he never looked directly at Turan's mouth. He let his eyes rest on the top of the tube where Ninus was feeding whatever he had made, hopefully the antidote, down the tube, leading it further down into Turan's mouth. Once he was finished he started to pull the tube out. Ronan did his best to ignore the sounds coming from Turan's mouth as the tube was pulled out. "So he is safe now? From the poison at least. Any idea about who the poisoner might be?" Ronan inquired. As he spoke, Ronan started to open the curtains of the room, letting some light from outside, however little. Afterwards he headed over to the fire and started to spread the wood around so the fire would die out more quickly. Ronan was glad he had changed outfits as he felt his sweaty shirt stick to his back while he was bending forward towards the fire.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus looked down at Turan and put his hand on his chest, his fingers pressing gently just above his collarbone at the base of his throat. He felt the heartbeat there in the little depression of flesh, strong and healthy. "He lives yet. Her tendrils have gone from around his heart, but she has taken his flesh with her. He must eat, and eat well." he said. "We will bathe him after his stomach has taken in flesh and eggs. Something to grow muscles around his frame again, and open his eyes." He removed his hand from the man. "Who is he to you, ser, that you would let me do all these things to him without a single word? Many men would have tried to stop me, would have cried and held my wrist, or slit my throat." Ninus asked Ronan curiously as he put his kit back together and latched the box shut. He would prepare Turan a meal. His own stomach snarled loudly. Cricet was the only one who had eaten that day. She was gorged on peaches and water from the rainbarrel, and was sleeping peacefully in the kitchen. "Perhaps..it is time my own body recieved something." Ninus admitted. He was exhausted from the day's work.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan was relieved to hear the news that his friend would live. Although he had been unwilling to admit it at the start of this little journey, Ronan had to admit that in searching for his friends life he had understood the value of the man's life and what it meant to Ronan. Although even now he didn't think of the man as an irreplaceable friend, at least he thought more of him than before. He listened to Ninus' instructions about the eating, preferably meat and eggs. And a bath. But Ronan had figured that one out on his own as well. The smell in the room was terrible. In an effort to make it somewhat better, Ronan opened the windows slightly, letting a cool breeze reach in. Using the blanket that was lowest on the clean pile, meaning it was currently the cleanest one in the entire suite, Ronan covered Turan as the man slept more peacefully. "I'm not a cryer nor a throat-slitter. I was simply tasked with finding you, not with arguing with your methods and that's what I did. As to who he is to me? Income, profit." Ronan's voiced had turned to a defensive steel as he shrugged off the last statement, although his earlier actions with the blanket proved that he was lying, to a degree. It was obvious the subject was finished and he walked with Ninus out the room, towards the stairs and the kitchen below. "I am sure the lady wouldn't mind if you helped yourself to the food you need for Turan and yourself." Ronan said as he let Ninus head down. With the lady of the house still uninformed to her husband's current state, Ronan joined her in the study, where he took a seat across from her. "Turan is alive, milady. He just needs proper care and food for a few days and then you should see improvement." From the sob and the sudden relaxation of her body, Ronan realized that she had lost a great burden with his words and he scratched of her mental suspect list, rounding it down to two suspects. Ronan remained with the lady for some time, watching her as she seemed to come out of some sadness bubble. Slowly but surely she started to get active again and in no time she was ordering the servant to prepare proper food and drink for the guests and for her husband. While she spoke, she started to head out of the room and downstairs, the servant following right beside her, Ronan following right behind the both of them as he made an attempt to stop them. But the lady of the house was just that, lady of the house. So Ronan's attempt at explaining that Ninus had barred anyone from the kitchen had no effect from her as she walked straight in, demanding why she wasn't allowed in her own kitchen. "Who is he that he doesn't allow me in the rooms of my own house. Where are his manners." She threw her opinions to Ronan while walking through the kitchen door.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats The lady of the house was met immediately with a snarling ball of fangs and claws. Cricet perched upon an island butcher block in the middle of the room, showing her teeth and making the most frightful snarling noises at the lady. She made a false lunge at her, snapping her teeth purposefully on open air to get her to back away from the kitchen. Ninus looked up when the lady entered. "Cricet." his voice snapped out, and the large rat planted her haunches on the counter top and pinned her ears against her skull. Ninus set aside the skillet on a cloth. Inside was a piece of meat divided equally into two portions, and a pair of fried eggs. While salted and peppered, it was meant to be a protein based meal. Ninus served up two plates and covered one with a pot lid to keep it warm, settling down at the counter with a fork. "Ser, were my intentions not the very glass in the panes? Did you have difficulty seeing? She may yet twine her tendrils around the man again, if he is fed more of her anger in such a state. He is a cup, teetering on the edge near a stone floor. A whisper will shatter him. The food I made has none of her corruption. How then, will I be so sure if my noble knight shatters my rules so?" Ninus asked, a bit sharply. He did want Turan to become better, and he still suspected the wife. He knew that Ronan was lying about Turan being only a source of income...no merchant, no matter how rich, would go to such extents to save someone not a friend. Most merchants considered their clients disposable. After all, there were thousands of men in Syliras and millions in Mizahar. What was one client? He cut into his meat and stuck a bit in his mouth, chewing daintily as he eyed the lady of the house. "How am I to know this woman did not stroll through the orchard, alluring my lady to pierce the man upstairs with her branches? Perhaps she courts another, perhaps her husband has made an enemy of her love. I know not." Ninus added after he'd swallowed.