Come Here, Take A Look[Solomus]

[Whisper]

38th of Fall, 511 AV She hated Ebonstryfe. She hated them with utmost contempt. The people who served had a chance to gain her favor, but the mere fact that they were Ebonstryfe covered her tongue with bile. Normally she could avoid them and their actions but now that she had a "legal" job selling poisons, they were getting sent to her every week. Some were OK, some were typical, and some were just the worse. Though she realized most of them were younger and hasn’t been in service that long therefore didn't require very potent poisons. She felt insulted at the same time humbled because she already knew she wasn't the best poisoner. Another appointment was set up for tonight and she had only a few poisons made up since the ground (outside the city that is) was getting colder and harder and roots were harder to harvest. Vines were dying off and it was definitely getting harder to find them at all. Soon she would switch to durable moss for the winter sales, but she was going to stock up on her preferred poisons as much as possible. Like now, she was crafting a favorite of hers: Bloodroot. It was the very first poison her mother taught her and the first she let her make on her own. She preferred the weakening state it caused, even though it was weak, because it made her dagger strike truer since her opponent was slowed. She definitively needed that edge since she wasn't that great with her dagger anyway because she rarely used it, preferring to escape an enemy than fight. She pressed the root in the small clamp to squeeze the red sap from within into the waiting glass disk she recovered from her mother's poison lab. That was another thing that really helped keep up with the new customers. Inheriting her childhood home from her mother's long-lost will was a great boost to her life since she didn't have to sleep on the hard stone any longer. Not that she minded the stone, but she had to get used to walls and doors again and not having to sleep very lightly in case of danger. But when giving up that self-defense mechanism, she had to create another: Not letting anyone know she lived in that small apartment only accessible by the canal. Maybe Reaver had already guessed since she had visited him more often now, but other them him, she wasn't going to let anyone know. She scraped the excess sap from the root that didn't drip into the disk with a small metal knife and put it with the rest while adding a little bit of water. After mixing it thoroughly, she let it slide into a small beaker and scraping the rest out with the same knife. A bit got onto her finger, but thankfully for another reason she loved this poison, it didn't harm her since Bloodroot only wounded through injury. She was still annoyed at losing even that drop but what could she do about it now? The thick syrup-like substance didn't clean off easily, but she made sure to get it completely off of her finger for fear of rubbing her eye or something like that. She moved methodically, or as much as she could, which was very slowly and the set the beaker in a holder/clamp which was set above a candle. She lit the candle with a bit of old flint she found in her mother's chest and her dagger. It would only have to be over flame for a few minutes before the toxins went airborne so she blew it out when she felt it was done. It wasn't a perfected method yet, but soon she hoped it would be. Before waiting for it to even cool, she poured it into a small vial and quickly set the tube down at feeling her fingers start to grow too hot. She rubbed away the heat in her fingertips for a few moments, careful not to instinctively suck on her fingers, and then went about her business. She corked the not-completely-filled vial and set it to the side with another vial that held a yellowish paste. She had more than one customer and she had to have a little variety, no? She decided her third and final poison for these two weeks would be the dark green poison she favored from the vine family. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That night, she was making her way down the canal in her small boat, the easier of two ways to get in or out of her house, towards Reaver's boat house. It was easier to leave her transportation here with a trusted friend, even if he really didn't know it was there unless he looked. From there, she weaved her way into the buildings and towards the designated area she specified. She never let the client choose, it was safer for her if she chose. The redheaded poisoner was in her normal black silk bodysuit and her dark cloak on over that to hide her weapons hanging on an old leather belt, something else she found in that cleaned out house. She would definitely have to get a better belt anyway. A sack on her back held the vials of poisons she hoped to sell tonight wrapped in cloth so they would not break. The dark alleyway was a simple layout. Three ways to get in and out: North, south, and up two stories of ledges. It was also very narrow so anyone with a weapon larger than a short sword was going to have a hard time to maneuver in a fight. She learned about her clients first, or she preferred to at least know how they did business and how trustworthy their word was. All she knew about this client was through a letter that was sent to arrange the meeting and a few not-too-reliable sources. He was a young male Ebonstryfe that fought with a warhammer. She couldn't get anything on his mannerisms or where he lived so she could observe her. She prayed to Akajia that soon she would find her worthy of her mark so she might have better security in her realm of shadows. She prayed now as she entered the alleyway and decided to take to the shadows to wait for this new client. Note for VThe vines are going to come from a thread I'm going to make with Aello, I just haven't got around to making it. The roots she will buy since she will fail at getting those. This was on the idea that vines are easier to harvest than roots.

[Solomus Revon]

Solomus didn't see why warriors needed poisons to kill others. You were trained with your body and your weapons for that very reason, so why pour a liquid in a drink to do the same as breaking a neck with your hammer? But Solomus had to do as his superiors told him, and they "suggested" that it was good to have some poisons with you. Just in case killing someone needed to be stealthy. Not that Solomus could be stealthy. Sure he could creep quietly, but he still stood out with his topknot and warhammer. But he still trusted his two hands over anything made from herbs and fungus. Yet even the lowly soldier's words were law to apprentices of the Ebonstryfe, which was why he found himself meeting a poison maker that night. It seemed this woman who was known as Whisper seemed to have several clients within the 'stryfe. He figured that was the closest one could get as trusted around here. Solomus walked up to the northern entrance he was suppose to enter in, observing the area. There was a second exit on the south side, and then ledges on both sides. The alley was narrow, a tough place to wield his warhammer if trouble occured. Solomus shouldn't expect it, and he didn't. He hadn't yet witnessed the death of someone in an alley yet. He hadn't fought in an alley like this. It seems he learned everything too late. One thing he still hadn't learned was the identity of this Whisper. He was sure with a quick search through citizenship papers he could find all the information he wished. Name, age, where she lived, everything. But maybe he was lethargic or he figured if the Ebonstryfe could trust other apprentices buying her products. Solomus had learned nothing about her. He just hoped it didn't bite him in the arse. Solomus stepped into the alleyway, watching. A deal was about to go down. But of what nature?

[Whisper]

Of course he would look like a typical 'stryfe. It was always either the big macho-man look or the dark and sinister look or sometimes both. By the look of him, if ill-tensions did come out, he would easily make do with his fists. That unsettled her a little, but she felt confident enough she could escape him with minor bruises. Once he had stopped, she did finally come out of her small nook in the shadows to walk before him. "You are the 'stryfe sent to meet me this night, I assume?" she said in a professional yet playful tone. Ryek was not with her person tonight, he was too much of an identifier, but he was up on top of one of the buildings within view though from their angle he blended into the night sky mostly; a bump on the ledge. She kept on her toes, always a precaution, but her posture a bit casual. One hand rested on a hip cautiously close to the fold in her cloak. A silent reminder of what she was and what she could likely do with whatever she had under that cloak. It was in no way threatening, just a precaution. She couldn't back up a threat like that anyway, but he didn't have to know her poor skill with a dagger or her crossbow. A crossbow that she still didn't have a sound idea about how to truly use it, though she had covered the bolt tips with poison in case she actually did score a lame hit. She shook her head of the thoughts, hoping it she would not have to test those fields of skill.