Closed A Poisonous Proposition (Rayage)

[Keene Ward]

Lab 16D - TBD winter 514 AV

"I asked Bebe to forward all inquiries on venom to me. Please meet me in Lab 16D. I prefer discussing things face to face." - W. W.

The letter had been delivered shortly after Rayage's request for research on poisons, written in a foreign, scribbled hand. Any interaction with the busy Bebe resulted in the same: "You got your answer." Which is what led Rayage to stand outside of the laboratory's door, wrapping against it waiting for the wizard within to allow her entrance. There was the sound of something breaking, followed by a frustrated, muffled shout before footsteps could be heard and the door was opened. A withered old frame boasting a bushy beard that was wet in several places and smelled vaguely of something spicy with dark, deep set eyes and a confused blink greeted her. For a few ticks, he glanced around as if he had been expecting some one or some thing else, but finding no others, the wizard gestured she enter. "Welcome welcome, clean that up would you?"

He gestured toward a shattered flask that had spilled out a strange yellow liquid, small trails of pale fumes drifted up from it as it seemed to eat away at the stone. Shutting the door behind them, he paused, shaking his head. "Oh no no, I'll do that." He picked up another glass vessle, this one filled with a viscous green potion that he uncorked and dribbled over the mess. There was a hiss, then both liquids dissipated into the air, a hazy vapor filling the room. "Much better! Now you can clean it up." He gave her a happy, whimsical grin, a few of his teeth missing though otherwise well-maintained, before he turned back to the table to replace the potion.

The laboratory was a mess. Tables lined the walls with a row of tables in the middle, creating a small rectangle of walking space. The tables were littered with a plethora of things from glass flasks and bottles, to cages filled with various poisonous creatures (most of which looked very dead). Out of everything, the most noticeable thing within the room was a large vat that sat on the opposite end of the wall, enough space from the wall to comfortably stand at any point around it. The wizard busied himself with something, muttering about acids and venoms in an unintelligible whisper, his tattered brown robes clinging to his bony figure and bare head glinting in the d-wire light. A broom and pan sat in the corner behind the door joined with a mob, bucket, what looked like some long dead creature, and a loaf of bread.

[Rayage]

Winter 8 514 AV

The Master stood outside the lab, her arms crossed loosely as she waited for the answer. The sound of breaking glass forced her to raise a brow. She was concerned that her sudden appearance at the door of the wizard had startled whoever it was that summoned her. She frowned at the thought, but she reminded herself of her presence here. It had a purpose, she needed answers, she needed research, she needed to understand before she could apply her magic to the situation and make something truly unique. So first, if the demands were not too unreasonable, she would acquire information, knowledge, and the collective experiences of whoever it was that had the power to redirect her to their lab.

It was probably for good reason, but she prepared herself and stood up a bit straighter as the door opened. Her arms dropped to the side of her and she observed the fellow who opened their lab to her. A faint smile spread upon her lips, but it quickly disappeared as he asked her to clean up her mess. Stepping into the lab she looked at the mess upon the floor, wondering what sort of substances this man was experimenting with. She never was one for brews and potions, but it was always something that was a curiosity to her. She didn’t know about it, but it the applications seemed almost magical in nature and so it did not surprise her that such studies were supported here on Sahova.

As the man mixed two liquids together and they disappeared, all that remained was the shattered glass. An inspection of the lab lead her to many interesting conclusions about the place, perhaps the most interesting thing in the lab was not the half-dead, if not dead, creatures, but the large vat. A crooked smile spread across her face as she crossed the lab and grabbed the pan and broom she spotted moments ago. Coming back to the mess she bent over and placed the pan on the floor and swept up the broken glass.

”Mr. W,” Rayage started, standing to her full height, ”I am Master Rayage and Ive come here on your behest. I am the wizard who inquired about the research on snake venom and various poisons. Since you have the power to redirect such a request to your lab personally I assume that you must be some sort of authority on the subject…” she let her thoughts trail off, asking her silent question to the wizard in the laboratory.

[Keene Ward]

"Mister who?" The man glanced around the laboratory, eyes searching for the one she was referring to before they landed on the crouched form of Rayage brooming up the glass. He blinked down at her, a spark of realization flickering in the darkness of his eyes. "Oh me!" He chuckled, dipping his finger into a jar of something purplish and tapping it on his tongue, face contorting in a pucker as the sour liquid's taste was confirmed. "You may call me.. Weh... Wah..." His brows knit as he licked another taste of the liquid from his finger. "Ah! Wulman! Winthrope?" Another chuckle as he wiped the potion's residue on his robes, shaking his head, "Either or, I don't mind!"

His face then quickly clouded as he mulled over what she had said. "Ray... Age?" He shook his head. "I don't remember anything about a... Rayage. But!"[/color] He raised a finger in the air, a reassuring smile on his lips. "I do know about poisons, venoms, potions, and-" He paused, finger scratching at his beards. "And... Hm. Herbs, maybe?" Wulman shrugged, taking the pan from Rayage as she finished cleaning and depositing the shards of glass in the bucket in the corner of the room. "Oh! Bread." He knelt down, snatching it up and inspecting the spores of mold that had sprouted from its wounded crust. As he did so, he continued talking. "Power?" He stuck out his dark, deadened tongue to take a little lick of the mold. "...Musty." before giving her an appraising stare. "Bebe and I are old friends, have you met him? He's delightful." He paused, tapping the bread against his chin, the crumbs filling his beard haphazaradly. "Or was it... dreadful?" Shrugging, Wulman returned to his table, setting the bread aside without a second though as he picked up a small vial that was half filled with a clear liquid.

"This is a hemotoxin! It comes from... Oh..." He waved his hand around as if sifting through years of information to find the name. "A snake. Or a... turtle. Whichever is the more poisonous one. Anyhow," He shuffled over to one of the inert creatures, picking up a skinned tail and dripping some of the substance onto it. Nothing happened, and the wizard frown. "Oh I could have swore..." And then the tail began to melt, the flesh dripping off in globs as the toxin ate through it. "Ah ha!" He turned with a happy grin back to Rayage. "It degrades organic flesh materials! I've been working on it for about... oh a hundred years or so." He smiled, wiggling it between his fingers before absentmindedly setting it down on the table, wedging it into a natural hole in the wood. "And this-" He paused, frowning. Without looking back at her, he beckoned a skinny, bony hand at her. "Could you bring me that viper's venom? The Mamba's. I think I've just thought of something brilliant!" His fingers snatching up several beakers and what looked like a pine cone. "Yes... a mixture of serpente and hymenoptera... And if you philter that... Inhalation? Ingestion?"

His impatiently outstretched hand moved again, waiting for the delivery. Directly behind Rayage, were the man had pointed, were a collection of bottles and flasks. None of them were labeled, though two held things that were distinctly plants. The other five had liquids, most of them clear-ish, though one was a solid green. There were a collection of several different diagrams of snakes that were tucked under two of the smaller bottles, though the diagrams had no labels on them. "Are you still here?" The call was made without turning to see if his "guest" had departed or not, a hint of agitation in his warbling voice.

[Rayage]

The longer Rayage was around the more she had her doubts. This man was not entirely there. As he stuck his fingers in the purple liquid the nuit watched in interest. In his mouth it went. A sense of horror and then wonderment and then stupidity shot through Rayage, for just a moment she was concerned for his wellbeing. The old and withered looking nuit’s mind was not spared in the ages. She wondered how such a person ended up in a state.

She frowned as he told her that he did not remember such a request, a Rayage, but as if it was some consultation that he did indeed know about poisons and venoms and all sorts of other things. How accurate his mad ramblings could be, she wondered the genius behind them, as Sahova does not waste resources. His research surely advanced Sahovas plan, or perhaps was just convincing enough to fill paper. She allowed the pan to be taken from her and watched the shards be deposited in the bin. If this was a frequent occurrence, then why wasn’t there a golem to help him with the clean up?

She just nodded when Bebe was mentioned. They were friends, which was an interesting concept between nuit in the citadel. One hardly was friendly with other nuit, but perhaps that was because of the tense air within the place. In here there never seemed to be a chance to really catch ones ‘breath’ to stop, no one was always advancing forward, always moving forward as Sahova demanded more and more from the wizards, gobbling up their research and advancements and asking for seconds, thirds, fourths. There was, in Sahvoas terms, no time for rest, no time for breaks, one was forever working, and at least this nuit was dedicated, doing his job even as he held a ‘discussion’ with her.

The bread was a little much, this nuit seemed both absentminded and sharp at the same time. It was an odd assortment of characteristics, and a tiring trait that some wizards of the citadel possessed. A hemotoxin. She tried to remember the term as it was announced. The effects of such a poison, or was it a venom, was impressive. The flesh melted like ice. She could not take her eyes off the melting material that is until she was ordered to get a vile of Vipers Venom. She also noted that the wizard took perhaps a hundred years working on such thing. Though she also silently suggested to herself that the wizard knows not the concept of time, having lost its meaning for the hundreds of years of working for Sahova. Time had a funny meaning in Sahova, in that it hardly had a meaning, as long as advancement was made.

The Master turned and looked for the flask that he so asked for, but nothing was labeled. She looked puzzled for a moment, but seemed to jump as the man bellowed out again, ”I am here, Wizard Winthrope.” she said, ”But I have no knowledge of such poisons, toxins, or venoms. It is why I asked for the research to begin with.” she began to explain herself, ”If you were to tell me what is what, I would gladly help you in any way I may.” she told him, getting a chance to watch this nuit work could help her greatly.

[Keene Ward]

At Rayage's admission that she had not idea with vial or flask held what, the old wizard turned to to give her a shocked, wide-eyed gape for a few ticks before he let his hand fall to his side. "You don't know?" A heavy sigh was followed by several liquids haphazardly being poured into a beaker, seemingly without any forethought. "I can't believe they sent me someone so inept..." He muttered into the concoction, his lips barely moving as the words passed between them. He tapped on the glass, stirring the contents with a finger as his mutterings grew quieter and more moody. In a few ticks he looked back at her, his lips turned down into a dour frown that just slightly elongated the length of his unruly beard. "The Mamba makes a potent neurotoxin, you know." He snapped at her, his gapped teeth clicking as he did so. "It gives the body shakes and shivers! ...Like ice." He smiled at that, apparently captivated by the natural chill of the element and a body's typical response to its contact.

Seemingly re-realizing that Rayage had yet to give him what he requested, Winthrope gave her a hard stare. "You really don't know?" Without waiting for an answer, his skinny legs stomped over to the table in an obvious huff as he stopped to stand before the table. "Oh? What's this?" His hand swiped up the bottle with the greenish liquid, swishing it around and uncorking the top to sniff it. "Woo!" He quickly popped the cork back in, waving his free hand in front of his face in a wild fan. "That is most certainly not a toxin! That's just..." He paused, blinking in thought. "Just a..."[/color] It seemed the thought was lost. Instead, he turned back to the bottles and surveyed them for a solid chime before he closed his eyes and snatched one of the them up: the second to last bottle of clear liquid to the right that sat atop the papers. Handing it to Rayage, Winthrope gave her a stern nod. "This is something. Probably Mamba. Maybe it's one of those lotus brews..." He shrugged.

Shuffling back to his place at the table, he stuck out his hand once more. "Could you bring me that viper's venom? The Mamba's. I think I've just thought of something brilliant!" The exact phrase that had started things was said just as eagerly as before, fingers twitching in expectancy. The beaker before him swam an putrid yellow as he continued to stir it, occasionally sprinkling in a whiteish powder that he muttered was "amanita". He turned to give her a questionable stare. "Do you not know where the Mamba is?"

[Rayage]

She frowned not wishing to be criticized for her honesty to the wizard. If she were to hand him the wrong flask on accident then it could be disastrous, if not deadly. She had no idea how the fluids would react to each other. She thought that admitting her own lack of knowledge on the subject was the right move to do. After all, she needed to continue her quest and complete her work here on Sahova. If she were to die here in an accident due to her own pride, the nuit did not think that she would be able to forgive herself. Such a stupid way to die was not for her, surely, but the man did not seem impressed by her rather ‘brave’ move. Instead he seemed a bit irritated and went over to the bottles himself.

The Mamba is a potent neurotoxin, it gives the body the shakes and shivers like ice. A useful fact, indeed, but it still did not clarify which was which. Then the scene played out in front of her again, as the mans mind seemed to wander on the concept of the mamba poison before re-emerging into the present once again. He asked her again if she knew where the Mamba toxin was, and again, she could not provide an answer. If it wasn’t humiliating the first time, in this rerun the man actually scurried over to the table behind her. The nuit turned too so she could watch. He pulled a cork off of the greenish liquid and took a whiff, exclaiming aloud before putting it back on. The odor was strong.

As a bottle was shoved into her hands, Winthope said it was something, possible the Mamba which they had been seeking. Rayage was unsure as the resident wizard of the lab seemed unsure himself. Though she nodded firmly as Winthrope explained, showing that she understood as she looked down and inspected the liquid. It did not seem like anything special, but this was a world that the nuit knew nothing about.

When the man replaced himself Rayage watched and was caught off guard by the question asked thereafter. It was the same phrase. Strange. This man indeed was absent minded. Nodding she took a shaky and unsure step forward towards the outreached hand. Placing the bottle in his hands, if she were human she’d be holding her breath, but she said, ”I think this is the Mamba.”

She looked over the mans shoulder as she bared witness to the mixture that the man was working on. He muttered a phrase, but she didn’t catch exactly what was said. Anticipation built as the nuit began to wonder what his ‘brilliant’ idea was. Such words were promising, and she was eager to watch him work. She did not know this wizard and was hesitant to ask him what he was working on, such things brought about suspicion and suspicion was a dangerous thing here in Sahvoa.

[Keene Ward]

As Rayage stepped forward with the flask, her uncertainty quite clear, Winthrope blinked twice before accepting it with a wide grin. "Good, good!" Uncorking it, and without a second thought, he drizzled some of the liquid into the concoction. There was no immediate effect, and he continued to stir. As he did so, his voice rattled on in a chatter, picking up various different powders and liquids, sniffing some, sprinkling in others. "You have to keep a close eye on the balance of the mixture. Pay attention to the process of effect... Neurotoxin through injection... Three stages of weakness, aches, then death... Death?" He stopped stirring, giving Rayage a quizzical stare. "Do you think they'll die before the secondary effects disable them, or is it just better for death to be the secondary with the primary being drowsiness?"

Snapping his fingers, Winthrope gave a short shout. "Drowsiness!" Shuffling over to one of the tables on the far side of the room, he began rummaging through a collection of powders. "Moss... Moss... Moss..." Various powders were pulled up to his nose, each one breezily sniffed, a few he quickly blew furiously out of his nose, winking at Rayage as if the action had some meaning beyond a forceful expulsion of apparently poisonous material. Finally finding what he was looking for, he wiggled in in front of his face, the little vial rattling slightly. "A hah! You can't just throw whatever you want into something, a poison and a poison can make an antidote, you know." He wobbled back to his mixture, leaving the moss on the table beside him. "Bees and moss and snakes..." He muttered, picking up the mixture and pouring some of it into a vial. He handed the vial to Rayage, keeping his hand extended until she took it. "Give that to those rats. They should ache and quake and..." He paused, glancing up to stare at the cage of quite certainly deceased animals. "Ah."

His head wobbled back and forth, eyes searching the cages until it landed on one that contained a thorn hair with the apparent constitution of a dying ancient. "Oh yes! Harrison!" He pointed towards the rabbit, a happy smile on his face. "Give that to the bunny, my dear." Before he looked back down at the mixture, muttering out his thoughts. "Bees... Roots? Mamba..." He waved a hand. "Ingestion is no good, must be a cut. The eyes, maybe?" Winthrope tapped on the glass, eyes flicking over the arranged materials. "It should shake, then still... Death not quite, but close enough. Harrison..." He looked up to the ceiling, thoughtfully pulling at his beard. "Special rabbit?"

[Rayage]

This man was odd. Rayage could not stop herself form thinking that exact thought. She wondered how many times she had judged this man by his actions alone. Although he was clearly some sort of mad, Sahova kept him around. With his knowledge, or apparent knowledge, he could be a very dangerous man indeed. Though Sahova has apprehended worse wizards, she assumed. Though everyone here was assumed to be more dangerous than what meets the eye, after all they are wizards of Sahova.

She nodded as the man instructed her, she needed to pay attention to the processes. Then he went on about something she did not quite understand, primary and secondary effects. The question at the end left her baffled, and the nuit franticly tried to put the pieces together. She had, effectively, walked into the lab blind and did not know what to expect. She certainly did not expect this, whatever this man was, his way of doing things was of yet beyond her understanding. She thought that it was better if the person died, period. Poison was supposed to kill, right? To be deadly, but before she recovered from her rushing thoughts enough to answer the man already moved onto another subject.

Drowsiness. She watched him search through his lab looking for ‘’moss’’. As he made his way sniffing and injesting some of what he pulled out Ray felt even more and more nervous. She felt awkward, unsure of herself or the situation she was in. The feeling intensified when she caught the wink from the old man. She wondered what it could mean, but she hadn’t a chance to really consider the meaning behind the gesture as the man soon found what he was looking for, and when he found it she couldn’t help but smile at the humor the man was in. Though he did say something interesting, a poison and a poison could make an antidote, and that you had to be careful what you mix together. It seemed that he did have his more lucid and scholarly moments, but they did not last for very long at all before Wizard Winthrope went back to his usual self…

When he was finished with his mixing Rayage took the container of poison. She too noted the long dead rats and wanted to let out a sigh, but she held it in. She needed to hold out. She needed to stay calm. She needed to get information, and if humoring this nuit would allow her to continue her research, then by the gods, she will do it. However when she was instructed to ‘give it to the bunny’ named Harrison she was unsure how to exactly drug the thing.

She looked at the thron hare in its small cage, and it seemed to stare back, but not lucidly. It seemed like it could be dead too, but it wasn’t quite… Looking down at the poison she gathered herself before looking back at the hare and walked up to the cage. She then considered the best way to administer the poison, which Wizard Winthrope suggested ‘the eyes’, she took that as an open invite. Taking the bottle she jerked it forward aiming for the thorn hares eyes. She splashed the rabbit with the entire contents of the liquid, hoping that some of it would indeed reach the eyes…

Then she watched, hoping that she did not do something as stupid as it looked and felt to her. Here she was out of her element, and was beginning to feel the pressure of not knowing.

[Keene Ward]

The rabbit sat impassively within the confines of its prison as Rayage splashed the liquid over it. Flecks of the potion did indeed make its way into the creature's eyes as well as its nose and outer lips. The rest of the poison landed on the withered animal's ragged coat, dripping down the fur harmlessly. For about a chime, nothing happened. Winthrope happily muttered to himself, seemingly entirely disinterested in what was happening as he began to mix a new concoction, this one starting with the powder he had brought over originally before he began to add other things, stirring it with a thin rod of glass. Exactly two ticks after the initial chime, he glanced up from his work to point at the rabbit with a vicious accusatory finger. "Harrison!"

The rabbit, whether in response to its name being called or the poison that had flooded its system, let out a high pitched keen, it's shrill voice filling the chamber with an ear piercing agony. Winthrope watched with a steady stoicism as the rabbit's body twitched ever so slightly, the scream lasting for a solid half chime before it petered out. The thorn hair's feeble shimmer of life in its eyes faded as its weathered head remained rigid in its state of never-ending pain. The other nuit tugged at his beard, brows knitting as he glared at the now deceased hare. "No. No no no. Pain?" He glanced back down at his concoctions, lifting them up one by one to inspect them in the light of the d-wire. "Pain, pain, pain..." He muttered more, though his words carried well enough that with effort Rayage would have little trouble hearing them. "Neurotoxins to remove the pain, not induce it... Perhaps the hymenoptera was refined? Purified... Could do the damage, override the mamba..."

Glancing up Rayage, Winthrope frowned, his eyes clouded with concern. "He was a good rabbit." Saying little more on the subject, Winthrop shuffled over to the table behind him, snatching up what looked to be a journal and scribbled something down with a quill nearby. Slapping it closed and dropping it in its place, Winthrop clapped his hands together. "Well then, that won't do for a dose of Death's Sleep, will it? Not very drowsy." He shook his head, repeating drowsy as he poured another dose of the bottle that Rayage had handed to him into the concoction to stir with an erratic jerk of his hand. "Perhaps araneida... That powder was..." He snapped his fingers at Rayage expectantly.

"Creepy crawlies, please!" Again, he hardly looked up from his work. His hand expectant. Immediately next to the cage were several jars with skittering creatures contained withing. There was a rack half filled with various metal tins, all unlabeled, and a head sized jar of black grit. There were also several scattered pages written in excessively messy Nader Canoch regarding the the nocturnal habits of scorpions, though the legibility was only enough for one skilled in the lost language to glean that fact, otherwise a very crude line drawing of one of the creatures was hastily added at the bottom of one of the pages. This time, however, Winthrope gave no indication that he was in a hurry, nor did he truly seem to realize his hand was still expectantly extended as he fell into a more muffled mutter, the clink of his stirring filling the then quiet room.

[Rayage]

Rayage watched expectantly as the brew splashed over the bunny. Her eyes never left the creature, but her mind was wondering, pondering what could possibly happen to the rabbit. In truth she did not know exactly what to expect. So she watched and observed, and as nothing continued to happen doubt started to creep into her mind. Did she administer the poison wrongly? She surely did just guess at how to ‘give it to the rabbit’, and she began to lose focus. As she wondered if it was working or not and just about as she was going to turn and ask Wizard Winthrope what was supposed to happen, the wizard himself cried out the rabbits name.

As if on cue the rabbit cried out, the once docile, tame, and rather disconnected rabbit shrilled. The noise was enough to send chills down the Masters spine. No matter how many times she heard death, it still affected her someway. Even she was not immune to deaths touch, and that reminder loomed over day by day, and presented itself in such things like the creature before her. It was one thing that truly frightened her. She did not want to die yet…

Bringing her from her thoughts were Winthropes ramblings. She needed to focus, she could not let death distract her anymore. She did not quite hear what he was saying, but It was enough to make her come back to reality and look upon the now surely dead, if it was not dead before, rabbit. The old wizard looked at Ray and said a small line for the rabbit, as if it were more than just a test subject, and then went on with his business. The oddness of this man never ceased to amaze her, but yet, his potions and poisons were amazingly effective.

The mans work was tireless, endless and he brewed with a sort of energy of a child playing. It seemed he was constantly in the clouds, thinking, tumbling around in his own mind and only returning to this realm for brief instances to collect what he needed to test. It was interesting, but was it entirely passion that drove him or was he simply a prisoner in his own mind?

She brushed away such thoughts as he asked for ‘creepy crawlies’. She wondered if he even remembered why she had come to visit him in the first place. Doubt started to creep into her heart, but she would not waste this opportunity. Gathering herself up agile eyes looked upon the shelves for anything that resembled the ‘creepy crawlies’ which were asked for. Moving about the lab to get to the shelf she had noted a few loose pages, ones not bound in the old mans book that he had scribed in earlier.

”One Chime.” she said, ’Ill locate the creepy crawlies” she assured Winthrope as her eyes scanned the loose pages for information, anything that could be gleamed at the glance. They were about scorpions. They intrigued her because she did not know much about scorpions at all. Although scorpions were not part of her initial research, everything in nature had its place to inspire the wizard towards something greater.

Eyes drifted from the pages as she grabbed a jar of what she assumed were the ‘creepy crawlies’ asked for. She did not want to keep Winthrope waiting too long, as it would be rather obvious that she was snooping through his stuff instead of just gathering what he had asked for. She took another chime, another guilty glance at the page with the scorpion drawing on it. This guy seemed to know a lot about a lot when the subject matter was poisons. She was glad that she came here, if not just to gleam a bit of his knowledge, but still she had yet to gather what she had come here to collect.

Turning from the pages, forcing herself to look away, she walked back to Winthrope and handed him the bottle of 'creepy crawlies' or what she assumed to be in that withering mass. "Here." she said, "What are you going to do wit them?" she asked unable to hold her curiosity in. She did not know worms could be poisonous.