Completed Scare Tactics

[Inoadar]

OOC - continued from The Spot.

32nd of Winter, 513

INOADAR

As Inoadar left The Spot, a number of extra benefits that could be obtained began to take clearer shape in his mind. This was basically just a "disappearing act" job. That is, he was tasked to make someone "disappear". The mizas were good as well. He thought back to another job he'd taken there that had been served by his donning "doctor" attire. That time, he'd had to steal it. This time, he'd simply borrow it from the new Sanitation Station he'd founded along with Amolina and Valerius.

He looked at his instructions as he walked to a ravosala platform. Strategies and follow-up schemes formed a tapestry of interwoven lies and gains. The stuff of life as far as he was concerned. If he simply did the job at its most basic parameters, he would follow the target, kill her, bring back some bauble of hers to prove the deed, and get his pay. But so much more could be accomplished with a bit of creativity. The wife contractor would still be rid of the slave/mistress her husband was "dallying" with. But he could also bring note to the Sanitation Station. Both in recognition and esteem.

A little fabrication would allow them to bring the woman in under the pretense of some exotic sickness, which they would then "cure" at The Station. Let the word slip out, nothing too overstated, of course. Anything they could not live up to would be dismissed as exaggerations and gossip. But there would remain whispers of competence and reliability. Word of mouth becoming recognized professionalism. 'The more the pity for the newly cured girl, suffering such a tragic accident on her way back to her master's home.' He wiped away a crocodile tear with a grin.

He would go back to Ino Vations and begin developing a weakened combination of "Hag's Mask" and...what? He started running through his mind various toxins that would bring sensations that could be attributed to illness, rather than poisoning. Then there might need to be steps taken to change the delivery systems. Obviously he couldn't expect to fool a patient into thinking he was giving them a dose of medicine by applying it to a dagger blade and slashing their arm.

He knew that he could propose that his darts were a medicinal tool. But it would probably be best to go with the old "chicken soup" approach of hot liquids to feed them. First though he needed to go find out who the target was exactly. It wouldn't do for him to kill the wrong slave girl.

x

[Inoadar]

INOADAR

That was accomplished easily enough with a bit of surveillance. He thought suddenly of Kit Rowan as he sat on a neighboring rooftop, watching through his sighting lens to see who the Master took to his bed when the wife was away. The job instructions had a brief description of the girl, but he wanted to be sure there were no others in the household who could be matched to the words.

During the day, the wife was at home so there was time to perfect his blend of partially diluted Hag's Mask and Milk of Emilvirute, an herb that was mildly poisonous when ingested, but had many external uses. They were both ingestion released chemicals so they blended well, the only modification being to add a catalytic inhibitor to the beaker while boiling it together, to make it more resistant and slow to release from contact with stomach acid. He didn't want the full effect to hit too quickly. It needed to come on slowly, like a sickness.

Now he got out his disguise kit and began to apply color to his cheeks, put on a light colored wig and capped a couple of his teeth. He lightened his eyebrows as well, and applied a light moustache. Using the diluted blue stain, he faked a bruise on his hand and puttied in a scab to suggest a healing injury to his hand. Then he pocketed his solution in a bottle of flavoring sauce he'd taken from a diner and pocketed his 'Bird's Tongue' voice changer.

Once again watching the house, the wife left, giving Inoadar a signal that tonight was the night. She'd given her husband some story about being gone until the middle of the next day. If the husband did not decide to take his slave out, Inoadar planned to sneak into the house and plant the bottle among the cooking supplies, figuring that having the whole household "come down" with the mysterious affliction would serve his ends just as well.

The disguise was more for the first scenario than the second, but he knew it certainly wouldn't hurt to be in disguise if he had to do the riskier break-in plan. But fortune was with him and a bell or so after the wife left, the husband and slave departed as well, making their way to a none-too-distant cafe. Inoadar smiled and followed them.

x

[Inoadar]

INOADAR

It was fortunate that there was not a great deal of variety of meats in Ravok. When people went out to dinner, they almost always had something...ANYthing...besides fish. And tonight was no exception. This was the primary reason Inoadar had chosen a sauce that traditionally went with red meats.

He sat at a corner table as the couple made themselves comfortable with a pair of drinks. He took an opportunity to go collect the plates from a nearby table to reinforce the appearance that he'd just finished a meal. He saw the waiter bring them some venison dish. He loudly scraped the chair as he got up, patting his stomach with an "Aahhhhh..."

He walked by the table and stopped for a moment to place the bottle of "sauce" with their other table spices. "Sorry, here, this goes on your table, folks. I borrowed it. It's really good stuff." They thanked him absently. They weren't paying much attention or they might have noticed that there weren't any bottles like it on any of the other tables.

Inoadar looked back covertly to see them putting it on their venison as they cooed at each other. He hung around in the shadows, undecided as to whether he should pick the bottle back up after the couple left. On the one hand, it would only add to the pretense that it was a sickness if several other people broke out in facial boils and rashes besides the slave girl, which was what he'd intended. On the other hand, the more victims there were, the greater the possibility that one of them would come in contact with someone that could tell what it really was.

But if he could establish some sort of rumor of successful treatments at the new NMSS Station, it would bring prestige. He had Hag's Mask antitoxin at his shop, but it was pricey. He had deliberately modified the toxin in the bottle to be slow acting. It could take days to run its course. It would be counter-productive for the NMSS to be the saving grace against an alleged disease if it cost too much to get it treated. When it faded out, people would realize they didn't really need the NMSS to get over it.

He needed to come up with a way to make it look like the effects were responding to treatment without it being unaffordable. When he was certain that the girl had ingested the toxin, he would return to the shop to try some experiments.

x

[Inoadar]

Inoadar

He returned to Ino Vations and began assembling an array of serums with diminishing potency. The Emilvirute herbal toxin was considerably less potent than the Hag's Mask poison. He knew that the original toxin in the sauce bottle was a blend of approximately equal portions Milk of Emilvirute and Hag's Mask, diluted with the catalytic inhibitor and plain water. It was a touchy procedure, given the tendency of the inhibitor to bind the two main ingredients whether they were well blended or not.

The water, however, acted as a solvent to break the bond, so his activity was a finely tuned regimen of mixing, stirring, adding water, mixing, stirring and adding inhibitor. All the while he was adjusting the height of the flame on the burner beneath the beaker to keep the liquid boiling, without it boiling so rigorously that he could not detect the slightly filmy look that developed when there was too much influence from the inhibitor.

He boiled up a second batch using a mixture that had a higher ratio of Emilvirute to Hag's Mask. It was still diluted to the same degree, but with the larger part being Emilvirute, it would bring a lesser effect of the rashes and weeping blisters than the first solution. The third solution had even less Hag's Mask than the second, and the fourth had no Hag's Mask whatsoever, but a slightly higher portion of the Milk of Emilvirute.

Now he set out making a similar series of solutions that had no inhibitor, so the toxic effects would be much quicker to show. This would allow the appearance of a "relapse" if a patient became difficult or suspicious. He anticipated a few incidents of citizens thinking that they knew better then their health care specialist. He chuckled at how "wrong" they would prove to be. If the slave girl he'd been tasked to eliminate was one of them, that was fine. She would be an object lesson to the rest.

Finished, he made marks on the stoppered beakers to show the progression of their intended implementation, and dressed himself in one of the doctor's aprons from the NMSS. 'Now, for the "emergency" effect.' he crowed triumphantly to himself. He put on his jacket over the apron. He wanted to give the impression of having been in too much of a dire hurry to take the time to dress out of his work clothes.

He stepped out of the NMSS and made his way with professional haste to the estate where the slave girl would surely be locked in. If anyone noticed him, it would only serve his purpose for there to be "word-of-mouth" rumors of an NMSS doctor rushing to the site of the first victim of this "outbreak".

x

[Inoadar]

Inoadar

The woman who had hired Inoadar met him at the gate to their estate. She went through a surprisingly convincing act as a wife desperate to discover what had befallen their household servant and husband. Inoadar knew there would be rivals watching, looking for scandal. He knew she would not want a story of infidelity getting out, regardless of which spouse was the guilty party, and he had his story prepared in advance.

"I am convinced this is an allergy, Ma'a'm. Though an admittedly severe one." he said with loud confidence, the type that neighbors would overhear. "Have you had any new draperies installed, or...furniture reupholstered lately?...New towels or linens?...Servants tunics?" This would give her an innocent evasion of scandal, as well as an opportunity to claim indulgent spending, always a status event. She showed her understanding with a brief, shrewd smile, feigned a moment's consideration, and then confirmed the recent arrival of several such newly purchased items.

The wife remained downstairs as they agreed, and Inoadar went up to the Master's bedroom. The husband, like the slave girl in the outbuilding, was racked with sickly, weeping sores and rashes, fever and nausea bringing a horrid stench in the enclosed room. Inoadar went to the window and threw it open. The man protested weakly, concerned that a chill would only worsen things.

Inoadar spun back, "The only thing that's going to make things worse is you keeping that germ-riddled whore in your house." he hissed in faked anger. "What in Dira's Dungeons is the matter with you? Don't you know how close you are to being found out?" He shushed the man's attempted denial, hinting with gestures at possible eavesdroppers. The man immediately quieted his complaints.

Inoadar went on with the story he had arranged with the wife. "Now look, sir. I have given your wife a believable but completely false tale of severe allergic reactions. I gave her some nonsense about this allergy being a rare, contagious variety. The fact is, it IS contagious, but it sure as shyke isn't an allergy. You get rid of that slave girl or it's going to keep popping up. And knowing that your wife is going to keep getting new curtains and linens and stuff in an attempt to get rid of what your "allergy" is reacting to, it's going to became quickly obvious that you got it from that slave girl. She's the only other one in the house that has it, for gods' sake. It surprises me no end that your wife hasn't already put it together."

He stood up, going to the window with a few vials and enzyme treated paper strips, pretending to compare results of some tests. He then went to his bag and pulled out a set of vials, setting them on the table. "Now I'm going to take your girl back to the NMSS, where I work. I will see to it that she is...no longer a concern to you, do you understand? I will leave these medications with your wife with instructions. I would strongly advise you to indulge her belief that a few new drapes or whatnot will remove the allergic substance from the estate."

The man appeared dismayed, but soon accepted the necessity of eliminating the source of possible scandal. Inoadar had considered blackmailing the man with exposure of infidelity. But since the wife already knew, there wasn't much future in it. Better to maintain a sense of debt with both of them. He returned to the sitting room, where the wife sat waiting, the light streaming through the window, and choice of the sheer fabric blouse flattering her figure considerably.

For a moment, Inoadar forgot what he was going to say. The woman smiled at him, knowing her tactic was having its desired effect. He collected himself, "These vials are marked in order of potency. This last one is pure anti-toxin. I leave it up to you to administer them as you see fit, so long as you don't take Too long seeing him "cured". How many times you choose to have him..."relapse"...is up to you. I have convinced him to indulge you with the purchase of whatever you feel might have been the source of this "allergy". I'd advise you jump on this opportunity."

The woman's gaze bore hotly into Inoadar's consciousness, as she began to slowly undo the buttons on her blouse, the back light of silhouetting sunlight enhancing her intent. "There's only one thing I want to "jump on" right now...doctor...I think you ought to give me a full "examination" right now, just be sure that my husband's indiscretion is fully...balanced."

Inoadar found it difficult to argue with her logic. A bell later he left with the slave girl in a cart and a smile on his face.

x

[Inoadar]

Inoadar

There were a couple of other victims that showed up at the Station for treatment during the next few days. Inoadar was glad to see this development. It meant word-of-mouth was getting out about the NMSS. It was not necessarily indicative of established public trust, but it gave the opportunity to build toward it. Once the public became aware of a successful repression of a potential contagion, prestige would soon follow.

He kept the slave girl patient away from the new ones. He didn't want her to be too recognizable to anyone else. When she disappeared, he wanted no questions asked. As it was, the only one with any cause would be the cheating husband, and Inoadar felt confident that even he would now be relieved to see the end of her. She would be quickly "cured", used as a reference for the Station's effective treatment, and then fed to the lake.

He didn't draw out the girl's sickness with slowly decreasing potency stages of the poison blend. But the secondary patients were allowed a relapse or two as circumstances required. There were always going to be those that thought they didn't need to follow the doctor's orders, and they consistently found themselves suffering longer. It seemed that deeper purses coincided with a more rapid recovery as well, though Inoadar went to some trouble to obscure this fact. All these funds went into the Station's coffers.

Some that knew him well may have been surprised to discover that these funds were not misappropriated, but were properly used to keep equipment, herbs, accessories and various intangibles stocked and in good condition. Inoadar made enough money from his shop to feel no need to line his pockets from this endeavor. This was all about prestige, and he wanted no hint of scandal.

He still had the stock of old dried Jile berries. These were the ones he'd picked up from the frosty ground inland. He had done some tests after he'd picked them many days ago, and found them to be, as expected, worthless. But these victims did not know this. And since he knew that their afflictions were due to a diluted poison that he was deliberately prolonging, the salve made from this bush would be ineffective anyway.

But it would look good for him to be seen making a salve known for treating skin conditions. And when their sores and rashes cleared up, it would just add legitimacy to his efforts. There was the additional benefit of allowing him to use up less of his "treatment" blend of Hag's Mask and Emilvirute.

So he allowed himself to be seen by the patients in his lab, mashing and boiling the berries, separating the thinner squeezings to mix with an alum to thicken it and an emulsifier to prevent further separation. This then was further boiled down and mixed back in to create the pasty salve he would then apply to the sores and rashes, covering them with warm, damp cloths to keep them soft.

He might have found it amusing to recognize that the most difficult part of his job was keeping a truly benevolent look to his smile as he moved from patient to patient with reassuring words about their improvement.

x

[Inoadar]

INOADAR

There were other motions to go through. Boiling up "lotions" from some of his other worthless out-of-season herbs, Inoadar set to applying them with soft cloths to the lesser rashes. He knew there needed to be the appearance of different levels of treatment for seemingly less severe symptoms.

He let the door to the lab room remain open while he ground different herbs, mixed in powders, boiled them to a thick consistency, spun them to separate the thicker elements, swabbed the thinner layers and placed them in separate vials. He mixed some of the thinner fluid with tea and then strained it to make a "tonic". The thicker fluid was seen to be smeared on bandages which he applied to sores and rashes.

The number of patients from this mysterious "skin disease" peaked and began to subside after a few days. Inoadar felt absolute triumph over his strategy. There was no doubt these "patients" would be cured. It was not a disease they had. And the poison, and the application of it, was something he was in complete control of. The initial victim, the slave girl, was released even before the last few stricken patients even first arrived. Inoadar told her to come around to the back door where his cart was, that he would take her back to her master personally.

The girl suspected nothing as she stepped out into the largely dark and hidden alley, the first hint of concern flashed across her face as she noticed a girl that looked, and was dressed, very much like her, was already sitting in the cart. She would have asked who it was, and what was going on, but a cord suddenly tightened around her throat and all she could do was flail ineffectively against Inoadar's unsympathetic stranglehold.

The girl in the cart looked away during the silencing of this poor unfortunate, but it was not her business, and Inoadar had promised her twenty gold mizas to simply be seen in the cart as he made his way in the direction of the Noble district. He let the girl out partway there. In fact, it was not far from the House of Immortal Pleasures, where she was truly employed.

Paid, and now party to murder, the girl would say nothing about what had occurred in the alley behind the NMSS. "A pleasure doing business with you, sir. Perhaps I can enjoy business doing pleasure with you sometime." she smiled.

Inoadar chuckled and left to go dump the body. Now to be done with this "sickness" charade. He would finish this scheme up in few days and be glad to see the last of sickness in Ravok for a while.

x

[Abstract]

Grade Awarded!

Inoadar

Skills

~ Planning - 2
~ Disguise - 1
~ Subterfuge - 3
~ Observation - 2
~ Poison - 1
~ Acting - 1
~ Persuasion - 1
~ Herbalism - 1

Lores

~ Being a Doctor: The Hard Part is Acting Nice
~ Completing a Job and Creating Business with one Poison
~ Using Worthless Ingredients
~ Avoiding Scandal

Other

N/A

Notes

Nothing to say.