PM to join [Ino Vations] An unexpected reunion

[Irriari]

15th Day of the Season of WInter, 514 AV Irriari had spent the morning taking inventory of her woefully inadequate poisoncrafting kit. While the vials, beakers, and heating elements were fine, her stash of reagents were getting dangerously low. If she neglected going out into the woods any longer she would be unable to craft any poisons at all. Perhaps she could buy components from Nolan at Ino Vations. It had been many seasons since she had visited him, and she hoped that he had managed to heal from their fight with the wolves. Chances were good that if she was to go collecting ingredients, it wouldn’t be with him. The loss of a horse had been bad enough, but when combined with the injuries they had sustained, the trip had been a net loss for them both. Deciding to pay him a visit, the zith first endeavored to shield herself from the agony that came from the sunlight. It was a trick she had developed after discussing the possibility at length with Leah. The human remained confused at the reason why anyone would want to block out sunlight. Through gritted teeth Irriari had tried to explain how painful the sun was to her kind, but Leah was more interested in the unique applications that a shield of that type could have. When Irriari could think of nothing unique, Leah had dismissed her for the day, wishing her luck with her ‘silly zith barrier’. It had taken three tries to figure out the tasking alone. Even with all of her attempts, the shield still didn’t last much further than a ravosala ride or two. The zith sat on the floor, breathing in deeply and measuring each breath until the house around her ceased to exist. When focusing, she found it far easier to direct her attention to a small object- be in the string on her bow or an old nail affixed to the wall. From there, she focused on relaxing her muscles and emptying her mind. The latter task was far more irksome than the former. The Elders had taught her that only humans were stupid enough to spend time 'emptying their minds'. As a zith, you always had to be ready for the next fight, hunt, or attack on the colony. After twenty chimes, her heart beat slowed to a dull, rhythmic thumping. Five chimes after that, she was calm enough to begin the process of exuding her djed and forming it to her will. The first attempt at creating a shield tasked with blocking sunlight had been an utter failure. Irriari tried covering her entire body with a thin shield and ran out of djed before she made it to her thighs. The process was humbling if nothing else. The djed swirled and danced around her fingertips almost daring her to make use of it. Patience was key. Instead of creating the shield hastily, the zith centered her thinking on the slate walls of the colony. Torches were sparse due to her kind’s night vision. It was fairly common for new slaves to get lost amid the tunnels for their first months. From there, the zith imagined a damp cave that she had taken refuge in on her way to Ravok. The essence of dark and damp places that were devoid of sunlight filled her mind. She focused on imbuing her djed with these thoughts, making her purpose for it known. After a few more chimes, the zith realized it wasn't working. The djed around her fingertips was dissipating and would never form a shield. The tasking had failed. Simply imagining the lack of sunlight wasn't enough. If she truly hoped to stop light from assaulting her senses she would have to change her technique. Perhaps Leah could shed light on her error. Clearing her thoughts of her failure, the zith strapped her quiver onto her back and stepped outside to the Docks. She paid a nearby Ravosalaman to take her to the small shop Nolan owne. When she stepped off the watercraft, she saw the former Ino Vations was no more. What remained were some charred boards that had made up the foundation and a few remnants of cracked ceiling beams that had fallen in the fire. Curious, the zith stepped forward, hoping to unravel the mystery of what happened to Nolan and his shop. He seemed more than competent enough to prevent his shop from burning down. Beside her, a woman spoke in a panicked tone to her partner, breaking any concentration the zith had formed. “Jemma told me that she saw *it*. She told me it had extra legs and blood red eyes. You can’t deny you’ve heard about it too. It’s not just the normal chaos of Ravok. Rhysol has let loose a monster on us. The petching Rising Dawn must have angered him, and now we all suffer.” The zith glared at them. It was impossible to focus with the woman’s hysterics echoing in her skull. If they wanted a monster, the zith was sure she could show them one. She didn’t need extra limbs to rip them apart. Opening her wings to their full length, the zith began walking towards the woman, laughing as she grabbed her partners hand and ran down the canal edge. Now she wouldn’t have to listen to stupid blabbering as she waited for a ravosala. She found one relatively quickly and inquired if the man knew where the new Ino Vations was. He did, and she gave him an extra gold miza for the help. When the zith arrived, she realized it was later in the day than she intended. Between shielding and her detour, the sun was quickly sinking into the horizon. She opened the door and strode into the shop, eyes darting around, searching for Nolan. OOCI am bad with titles. I'm making you write the next one. Also, we need a timestamp!

[Inoadar]

Inoadar The poisoner was in the back, gauging which compounds he should concentrate on for the next series of procedures. It was not always the finished product that was the focus of the day. Many a bell was spent restocking reagents and catalysts, inhibitors and triggers. Even dyes were important. When chemicals of vastly different uses had identical appearances, a simple color change spared a great deal of future testing. He was weighing bundles of goods, deciding. In one hand, a wrapped sheaf of leaves from which to glean a few fluid ounces of catalytic inhibitor. In the other, a packet of ground centipede carapaces from which to purify an metabolic accelerant. He was running a little short of these two elements. He had others but these were the most compatible with the most other elements and procedures. The rest would require additional stages of processing to make them ready for use with all but a few very particular reagents. He was just entering the lab when Vera, his young protege, came hurrying up to him, her voice quiet but intense, as though enemies might hear if she spoke normally. "Master Nolan! There's a monster in the shop!" He looked at the youngster with skeptical indulgence, "A monster?" his eyebrows confirmed his doubts. "Yes sir, Uncle Nolan!" she whispered back, eyes wide, "with claws and wings...And it's all furry!" Burke came in from the front with a grin on his face. "Yeah, boss, it's a Zith. And she's askin' for ya by name. Didn't know ya knew any o' them type." Inoadar narrowed his eyes in concentration, trying to remember the name as he went to the door, "Only one..." he said back to his employees as he stepped into the front area. "Irriari? Is that you?"

[Irriari]

The shop was just as organized as the zith remembered it. Small vials of meticulously labelled poisons were on display, not that she could read any of the labels. From sight, she recognized a few, but a large amount were a mystery. Turning her attention elsewhere, Irriari looked at the humans milling about the shop. The second she inquired for Nolan, a small, skittish girl ran to the back of the store to parts unknown. Unbothered, the zith continued browsing the merchandise wondering if there were any poisons within his stock that would be particularly suited to torture. It had been a recurring dream for weeks: take a human off the street of Ravok, drug them, and watch them squirm like a live hog on a spit. They would have no real information of value, but by the end of her ministrations they would be giving up every dark family secret in hopes of something that prove to be their salvation. With all the rumors floating about the city of chaos, the babbling of one broken fool would change nothing, especially if she concealed her identity well enough. Lost in her thoughts, the zith almost didn’t hear Nolan come from the back of the store. His footfalls weren’t remarkably unique, but her name on his lips caused her to pivot. The man wasn’t covered in burns, and the injuries from the savagery of the wolves seemed to be healed. They weren’t midway through a brawl (yet), so the zith considered the initial meeting a success. After their encounter in the woods, Irriari held a measure of respect for the human. He would never be a zith, but he had her back, and without him she wouldn’t have survived the night. She appraised him for a few seconds longer unsure of what to say. While she had originally come searching for poisons, it seemed odd to greet Nolan with such a simple business request. Instead, the zith decided on another greeting. Perhaps there was a way to get something to torture that was worthy of her attentions. “I noticed your old shop burned down. Did you catch the one responsible?”

[Inoadar]

Inoadar The question caught him just a bit off guard. If he was remembering correctly, this Zith had been pursuing status within the Ebonstryfe. He'd found this to be very ambitious for a non-human then. But now it made him wonder briefly at the motivation for the question. Was she now an official agent, on a job of investigation, with himself as target? She would not be the first. Clyde Sullins had done the very same thing. That had turned out well enough though, with his introduction to the toxin source, Vilemoss. He knew from his own clumsy self infliction how well it worked. But that was often the way of scientific breakthrough. Was she instead still striving to complete her crucible, again, with him as a target? That entire disclosure, of her test to reach initiate, had been through hints left by a master at the IHL that wished him to know, without the divulgence being traceable back to him. He would have to act clueless, while still being on guard. Or, could it actually be that she is simply paying him a social visit and touching on that as a subject of small talk? Their brief partnership had been eventful and brutal; the sort that either forms or prohibits a friendship. They had fought nearly to the death when they'd first met, but had ultimately developed a grudging respect. This had grown to a genuine respect upon their trip to the wild and the attack by wolves. They had prevailed by teamwork and sheer will. Then the pain and injuries had registered and almost done them in. But they'd managed to get back to town. He'd known she was going to undergo her "crucible" to gain entrance to the Ebonstryfe, but had not heard whether she had succeeded. The fact that he'd not seen nor heard from, or of, her again had given him reason to believe she had failed. Did they allow a second try? He had his doubts about that. In any event, she was waiting for an answer. This had all passed through his mind in a flash, but no further delay could be covered. He grinned. "They were fed to the fish." Even though he had engineered the destruction of the old shop himself, it was true that he'd used a few patsies to do it. And their resulting corpses had been dumped in the lake. He adopted a more relaxed pose as he responded, "Well, it's certainly been a while. I can only assume that if you went by the old site, you must have been looking for goods. What can I get for you?" There were a number of things he would glean from her answer. Did she respond without hesitation? And would her response seem rehearsed? Would she claim it to be a social visit? Did she know the name of what she wanted? Would her answer appear to account for the logical assumption that his product list had grown? The simple fact was that "grudging respect" neither implied nor imparted "trust". He was not ready to extend such a vulnerability, but he wanted to appear that he had. Then they would see what they would see.

[Irriari]

Irriari found herself grinning at his reply. While it wasn’t in the nature of her people to leave their work to animals, feeding someone to fish did have a certain appeal to it, especially if they could be pulled out of the water midway. Would they still be able to breathe after water permeated past their skin? Did it even matter? Deciding not to find out in any way related to her own body, the zith filed the idea away from later. It was as the commander always said: “Ingenuity is the mother of all the best torture techniques.” She replied to Nolan with the ease she felt around him evident in her voice. After all, there was safety here, so long as no fires burned this place to the ground while she was in it. “I hope you were active in the process. It sounds fun and informative.” She paused at his next question, unsure of how to word her answer. As much as she loved poisoncrafting, her technique left a lot to be desired. What had Alena called her methods? Barbaric? Brutish? Whatever the adjectives the woman had used, it was clear that the zith lacked the potential to create great poisons. Her knowledge and collection of plants were the only redeeming quality she possessed. Her understanding of the philtering and processes that created the poisons she loved so much were comparable to one that didn’t know anything at all of poisons. It annoyed the zith, but crafting the poisons was always secondary to using them. The thrill of knowing that her prey was destined to succumb to the pain, delirium, and confusion from her poisons excited her more than hitting a target with an arrow. Arrows were expected and easy to deal with. Anyone with weapon experience knew to break off the arrow shaft until they could control the bleeding. Poison was in an entirely different category. Not only is the medium unfamiliar to most warrior, but the pain and side effects that result from being poisoned are something many struggle to deal with. More than anything the poisoned wonder if they’ll die. If and when that question is settled, they have to face the symptoms themselves and wonder if the nausea will get worse. Will it simply end with coughing up blood or will I end up coughing up a lung? The zith was driven by that uncertainty and fear. She could twist the most confident of humans and wring out every ounce of composure they possessed. Poison was fun. Surely Nolan had similar reasons for pursuing the same line of work. He was no stranger to the effects of poison, and he had the patience to actually learn about the techniques used in crafting. She answered him truthfully, knowing that lying about an area she did poorly in was a recipe for another store brawl. “I came here looking for reagents – I’m running low. However, I noticed you sell more finished poisons. Are you afraid that someone will steal your job if they have access to the components?” The last statement was meant to be a bit of a joke, but given the intensity of the profession and the competition that was rife in Ravok, she realized Nolan might not see it that way. For a moment, the zith entertained the idea of explaining herself. No. Zith were not the type to explain their jokes. Either he would understand, or he wouldn’t. While she cared about the end result, she wouldn’t act human to please him or anyone else. OOCWhere are we even going with this? Do you know? I sure don't! Yay, adventures. It'll be just like old times sans wolves and injuries. (I hope)

[Inoadar]

Inoadar His old acquaintance seemed genuine enough. At least she was not putting on any false pretenses of being best friends or anything. "If you mean 'am I worried about theft', there are enough random samples with...poorly sealed containers...to discourage any significant theft of goods." Inoadar grinned slightly as he said this, recalling the three or four shoplifters who had died writhing and choking in the alleys near his old shop in the past. "But if you mean 'am I worried about competition', certainly not. The more I expand my product list, the more valuable I become to everyone, even those who hate me." He laughed outright at the last portion of his remark. "And there are plenty of those." His smile faded slowly as he took note of the herbs and insect parts he still carried. He set them down, checking covertly to be sure his dagger was in place. "Well your timing is good, I'll say that. I was just about to restock a few reagents. I know you were pursuing a more...secure status in our little town." he ventured, referring to a membership in the Ebonstryfe. He had always thought of himself as more of a Black Sun type. "Are you here as a representative of anyone?" He wanted to be sure this was not another visit like Clyde's. If she claimed to be Stryfe, he would ask to see her credentials. If she actually had them, he would be impressed. He did not know of any Stryfers that were Zith. Just like his own Valdinox Matron was somewhat of a pariah, due to her Isur heritage, Druvin or not. He was torn between wanting to show off his new lab, and wanting to maintain his secrecy about his capabilities. But business was business, and her mizas were as good as anyone's. "I'd be happy to provide you with whatever reagents you require. Are you after some particular ones? And do you know them by name? Or are you needing a sort of package deal, based on a certain family? I'm sorry to say, I don't recall which families of poisons you work with, other than mushrooms, that is." He grinned and winked as he said this, recalling that such fungi were the target of their search last year when they ended up in a running skirmish with a pack of wolves. As painful as it had been, and in spite of the duration of his physical debilities, due to his many injuries, that had been an exciting day. And it had been the first stage of his discovery of Wildleash poison. He actually owed her some measure of a debt. "Believe it or not, I actually wouldn't mind another excursion into the wild with a crazy zith nutcase like you." A glint of humor sparked in his eyes, betraying his teasing. "Or we can stay in and work up some reagents based solely on what I currently have in stock. I leave the choice to you, my dear." he gave an exaggerated bow and flourish. He then stood and straightened both his appearance and expression and continued, "There's a new Inn on the lake shore, so we wouldn't be getting dumped ashore at night, just to be immediately having to set up tents and keep watch for wolves."

[Irriari]

Irriari found herself peering at the closest rack of vials. If what he said was true then it was an amazing deterrent to would be shoplifters. They risked inhaling the poison if they messed with the stopper and ended up opening the vial on accident. In Ravok, businesses had clout. While she tried to ignore the incessant chattering of the housewives that wandered the streets it was near impossible. Over time she had learned of the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ businesses. Developing such a reputation could only help Nolan, and the zith took a moment to muse on his strategy. Humans were rarely so apt, and if they were it was in matters of no importance. Being good at matching pieces of clothing together was nothing to be proud of. Owning a store stocked with poisons was admirable. No one jumped at the name of a fruit merchant and history would forget them the second that they died. Nolan’s first question surprised her. She was of the zith. Her business was hers alone. She was no puppy on a leash to be trotted around and used to play fetch for the entertainment of others. The confusion that tinged her voice was evident. “Do you forget who I am? I came here alone, under no one’s command but my own.” His next question required more than a chime of thinking. As she searched for the right way to phrase her interest in seeking out the shop, Irriari moved about the shop, looking at each collection of poisons in turn. While the different colors were interesting to gaze upon, they did little to clarify the torrent of thoughts that raged inside of her. She was most familiar with mushrooms, so the zith decided to go that route. “I work with mushrooms, mostly. I occasionally make poisons out of animals and fish. I’ve tried working with other things but I don’t really understand them. If you happened to have any of those mushrooms similar to the ones we found in the woods, I’d buy those.” Irriari stopped pacing and was reminded of the injuries that had resulted from fighting the wolves. They had taken seasons to heal and left her paranoid every time she ventured into the heart of the city. An injured zith was an easy target for a mob or skilled combatant. Since the majority of injuries had been confined to her arms and hands it would have been impossible to fight back. Dark scars decorated the skin beneath her fur, reminding her the price of fighting an apex predator with enough jaw strength to snap her limbs. She shuddered slightly and rubbed her arms, thankful to still have the use of them. “I think staying here would be better. The wildlands were being ravaged by a storm a fortnight ago. I’d rather not return to that anytime soon.” Irriari faced Nolan, interested in what his reply would be. She partly expected him to laugh at her ineptitude. Humans were nothing if not masters of betrayal. Zith were no different, of course, but her brethren were easy to manage in comparison. Humans had ties and families that would hunt her until she collapsed if she took one of their own. It was far too risky to trust, and even riskier to hold a grudge. Suddenly uncomfortable, she clenched her clawed hands and released them, trying not to dwell on the betrayal that had torn her into too many pieces to repair. The patchwork self that wandered Ravok had learned the meaning of betrayal and the resulting lesson well enough to sear it into her minds eye a million times over. Nolan might have been the closest thing to a friend she had found in the city, but keeping him at arm’s length was still necessary.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar He found Irriari's reaction somewhat amusing for its bluster. "Oh come now, old friend, let's drop the pretenses. There is nothing demeaning in this town by having connections of one sort or another. I know very well who you are and I happen to know you were trying for an opening in our noble Ebonstryfe. I very recently had such a visit from such a representative. It did not go as was planned, and I thought this might be a follow-up." He was now concerned that she had not achieved her membership, and wondered if the accepted knowledge that prospects did not survive failure was just a tale to cull the weak of heart from making the attempt. It was certainly not that he wished such misfortune upon her, but he had assumed that any that had succeeded would wish to boast of it. Clyde certainly made no effort to withhold this triumph. But he decided it was best to speak no further of it. Irriari appeared to feel this way as well, opting instead to browse the shelves of poisons, reagents and implements. "Mushrooms, eh?" he said with a grim chuckle, "Well that brings back memories, doesn't it? Memories I think I could stand to delay a while yet as well." He let her look around as he went back to pull a few trays from a few cabinets and brought them out to place upon the counter. "I have a number of reagent sources here if you have access to a lab and would like to save a few mizas. Otherwise, as I said, I can make you up a package of fungal type reagents. I also have some aquatic and bestial supplies." He directed her attention to the trays of crude products. They were unprocessed herbs, and crumbled elements of various things. There were plant spores and leaves, bones and shavings from barks and fruits, fungal debris, molds and mosses, insect parts and dried bits of sinew and organs. "I'll tell you what, since I was going to begin some processing of such things anyway, I will focus on fungal types since I make regular use of them. If you assist me, I will give them to you at cost." He slid a grin across his face, "But I'm not looking to give you stock to open your own shop or anything. I've got enough competition in this town already. I do happen to have some of those mushrooms. Did you have a chance to make anything from the ones we gathered that last time?" He called into the back for his shopkeeper, Burke, who made no attempt to conceal his alarm at the sight of a Zith. He'd been raised in a small, protected farmland community, and had had no good contacts with Zith. He knew that Vera had spent many of her slave days with an herbalist, and might have similar opinions about them. "You might want to warn Vera, Master Nolan." he muttered as he took up his position at the counter.

[Irriari]

Irriari was unsure how to reply to his statement. Having connections in Ravok was useful, but connections with humans were messy at best and always prone to change. The city of chaos allowed nothing and no one to remain static. While she would have preferred to be a lone agent in most of her affairs, the zith knew that holding such an attitude would harm her in the future. At the very least, she would have to train in the Vitrax with the other apprentices. At his mention of mushrooms, the zith nodded and her expression turned dark. Between hallucinations caused by ingestion of various fungi, the death of Sevrai, and the fight with wolves, the connotation tied to mushrooms was far from a pleasant one. She nodded in acquiescence, hoping he wouldn’t speak much more on the matter. Business transactions were tolerable, but dwelling on the past was not. She looked up at him, interested in his offer. Processing was a broad term and while she doubted she would be of much help to him, it wouldn’t hurt to offer. “I’ll help you, but you’ll have to teach me what you want done.” His next statement made her laugh and a smile tugged at her lips as she replied, “Open my own shop? I’d rather try to wrestle a fish in the lake. The damnable humans wandering around here can be your issue. Truly, I insist.” Irriari's mood darkened considerably as she reflected on her failures in trying to craft a poison out of the mushrooms they had found. Her lack of success had infuriated her to such a degree that she hadn’t bothered to try after her initial attempt. She had nearly died for those petching mushrooms and having them sitting in her room as useless decorations had resulted in more than one wall being punched. The brightness in her demeanor had disappeared entirely and a sourness entered her voice. “I tried, but I haven’t found anything that works.” The human that approached from a door in the back did little to hide his surprise at the site of her. She smiled at him, hoping to scare him further. Much to her disappointment, the human didn’t jump and instead resumed his place at the counter. He spoke to Nolan in a muttered tone obviously meant to be private but her sharp hearing picked up every word. Curious as to the identity of this mysterious ‘Vera’, the zith motioned to Nolan with an open palm. “Lead on. Unless you intend to have us work in here, that is.” The zith glanced around the room again. While there was no lab equipment or chairs she was often forced to make due with similar accommodations in her home. No. Nolan was too methodical to not have his own lab.

[Inoadar]

Inoadar Inoadar found Irriari's repugnance to the thought of opening her own shop no real surprise. She didn't seem like the type to sit in a shop all day, lab work or not. For that matter, she didn't seem like the type to sit and do lab work all day either. At first, Burke's suggestion that he warn Vera of Irriari's entrance seemed redundant, since Vera had been the first to warn of the Zith's arrival. But it occurred to him that Burke meant it in regard to allowing anyone into the lab itself. They had defenses in place, and Vera might react in an "unfortunate" way to Irriari stepping into the lab. So he went in first, giving a few discrete hand signals that kept Vera's hands away from certain cords and slides that would unlock the holds on a few traps. "It's okay, Vera." He said, waving down Vera's anxious stance, which was clearly balanced for a quick reach toward a face mask. "Irriari and I are old friends. It was before I met you." The child gave a doubtful look, but relaxed somewhat. Now the poisoner turned to his guest, "Well, I can easily imagine that you've gotten nowhere with those mushrooms. They can be used to make a counter agent to inhibit acidity so that a blood toxin can be made into an ingestion type, but that's about it. The thing is, it's not the mushroom itself that is the valuable part. It's the mycellial plate beneath them. The big fungal wad layer below the ground level that they grow out of." He went on to elaborate, "And really, it's only the actual root hairs that trigger the Wildleash effect. But you don't really need to separate them from the mycelliae, unless you're really trying to make the most potent Wildleash you can. But most folks wouldn't know the difference. What you really need is a medium for the root hairs to react to. A soft wood works pretty well. You just set the mycellial plate on top of it for a few days, then pull it free. The hairs stay in the softened wood, still alive and active." She seemed interested so he went on, "Of course, you gotta keep them in the dark the whole time. And you put them in a soft medium afterwards, like compost, to let the hairs regrow. You see what happens is that they break down the wood, doing their catalytic thing, and the wood is what forms the pasty medium. Then you either freeze it right away, or add Kelvic blood right away. It doesn't keep long. There's a lot of trial and error determining the best state of moistness, to get the right amount of blood to soak in and keep it pasty." Vera stared in near disbelief, astounded that her master would be so open about his most lucrative product. "Don't stare, Vera." Inoadar scowled. "I owe her this. She saved my life." Vera brightened immediately, then looked shame-faced, "I'm sorry Ma'am. I should have known Master Nolan wouldn't let an enemy into his lab." Inoadar smiled indulgently, then looked around, estimating what they could get started on right away. He grabbed a few small packets and turned to Irriari, "Well, if you'd like, you could soak some of those cotton balls in this solution. Then set them in the upper rack of the steamer attachment. Then place these seeds below them over the boiling water and let the cotton sit in the steam just until the seed coats split." He pointed to a pair of bottles, "Then a capful of each of those in a cup of water, stir it up and dip the cotton balls until they swell up about twice their size. Then, depending on what color they turn, we see what we do next."