A Sanguine Start (Solo)

The forest was mostly quiet around Nevin as he strode through the woods. His cloak was on, hood swung up over his head covering his dark red hair, staff slung into a holster on the back. Gripped loosely in his hands was his crossbow, a bolt knocked in place as he slipped between the trees. Dark eyes scanned the forest around him, searching for traces of an animal passing through recently.

He wasn't the best hunter - and he knew that Elthas had offered to join him, but this was something he had to do on his own. Maybe he could join Elthas on hunts another time, when he was just trying to gather some food perhaps. But not today, not with what he was planning on doing with the animals that he killed on this trip. The risk of the sharp-eyed Elf noticing what he was doing, and reacting negatively to it, was not something he wanted to have happen yet, not until he had built up an actual rapport with the Elf, one that could withstand the revelation of what he did, could do.

No, this trip was just for himself, and to see if his abilities were affected by a long journey. They hadn't been when he moved only a few leagues away to another town, but he had crossed a considerably larger distance to reach Stonevale, and for all he knew the rituals that had been performed on him had included a lock that stripped his powers away after he'd gone a certain distance from the site where the rituals were performed. That was… Unlikely, considering what his ‘family’ had wanted to achieve with the rituals, but for all he knew they'd messed something up.

But. But his hair was still dark red - the color of drying blood, and his skin below his neck was still covered in the raised crimson lines that ran over everything. No, if his powers had weakened or been lost, there was no outward sign of it. And that did not encourage Nevin in his faint hope that what had been done was fading.

In the distance, a branch cracked, and Nevin’s head swung in the direction of the sound. His grip tightened on the crossbow, bringing it up to his shoulder as he dropped down into a crouch. His feet carried him through the bushes as he crept along, peering through the morning haze in the trees as he searched for whatever had alerted him. Twice he had to maneuver carefully to avoid running his staff into something, though this action was something he was familiar with and it did not slow him down overly much.

There - a short distance away, a red fox was digging at a hole, trying to get something out of the ground. Likely a rabbit or a vole, burrowed away and trying to keep its distance from the hungry claws of the predator. Normally Nevin would have preferred to leave a fox alone - he liked the animals, and they were useful for scaring up other prey for him… But he was antsy about being in these woods for too long for now, the forest too new to him.

So up swung the crossbow, red eyes sighting in carefully. He didn't want to make it suffer if he could avoid it, so he would be going for one shot to kill it. Just before he loosed the bolt though, there was a hint of something brown on the edge of his vision, and Nevin twisted his head to see it better. A short distance away, behind the fox on one side, a rabbit was cautiously poking its head out of the ground. Nevin twisted his crossbow and aimed -

Twang

The sharp sound of the string snapping forward made the fox jump into the air and dart into the trees - and the rabbit tried to pull back into its burrow at the sudden sound, but it was too late. The bolt spiraled through the air and pierced the upper chest of the furry rodent, tugging it bodily out of its hole with the remaining force. The carcass skidded along the ground for a couple feet, and Nevin strode towards it, knocking another crossbow quarrel onto the stock before kneeling down. Out came his dagger and the vial case.

Time to test his fear, and his power. He both hoped it would work, and that it wouldn't - he could get by on real alchemy if it didn't, but if it did…. Well, either it did, or it didn't. Putting it off would change nothing.

Unlike most hunters at this point, Nevin did not cut the his crossbow bolt from the chest of the rabbit. For his purposes, the fact that the bolt was essentially plugging the hole and keeping the blood from flowing out and into the ground was actually a very good thing. He carefully adjust the rabbit so it was on its back - ignoring the way the light was still fading from its brown eyes - and uncorked the glass vial he had pulled out.

This close to the blood seeing some staining the bolt, he was already feeling the eager thrum running across his skin as the markings came to life. Very faintly, almost impossible to see in the bright morning light and through the long sleeves, a crimson glow began to shine from Nevin’s body. He took a deep breath and bit back a sigh, before stretching one hand forward, the dagger with in it driving point first into the side of the rabbit’s neck.

The finely honed iron sliced in a circle, carving a chunk out of the side of the throat, and bright crimson blood began to seep out, wetting the fur beneath the cut circle in a spreading red stain. The magic within Nevin was singing to him now, begging to be used - and he granted that inborn desire, reaching out and pressing the opening of the vial beneath the hole he had cut.

"Sanguine Vitae." The words, barely audible, slipped from his lips as Nevin focused upon the glass vial slowly catching the blood. Or, more precisely, his dark eyes were completely intent upon the blood flowing into the vial. More and more seemed to spill from the wound, all of it flowing into the small vial - more than should have fit inside. The blood was glowing, the same soft crimson hue that was trapped beneath Nevin’s clothing.

Nevin had his attention wholly focused on the process. Firmly held in his mind was the impression of life, vitality that the rabbit had held mere moments before. His magic mirrored that, condensing and focusing the blood inside of the vial. Now the life-giving fluid was almost being pulled from the carcass, gushing and trickling forth long after it should have stopped flowing so much.

Finally the flow stopped - and a careful observer would not that no more blood was leaking from either wound on the rabbit - nor was there any staining the fur beneath the cut on its neck. The only blood remaining outside of the glass vial was that which was already on the ground, or was on the wood of the crossbow bolt.

Nevin carefully put the stopper back into the glass vial, closing it off, and pulled out the small wooden box that carried the vials in safety. The now red-filled vial was tucked inside, and the blood mage pulled an empty one out, placing it in the pouch he had drawn the other one out of earlier. The box went back into his travel bag, and now he finally cut the bolt free, before studying the rabbit carcass for a moment, trying to decide what to do with it.

A small yip from one side made him turn his gaze - the rabbit he had seen earlier was staring at him, and now, closer, he could see that the poor animal looked a bit thin - hungry, he supposed. He shrugged, the motion rippling his cloak, and tossed the rabbit towards the fox. It landed on the ground with a meaty thunk, and the fox stared at it suspiciously for a moment before snatching it and disappearing into the brush.

”Well. My magic is still active.” He didn't know whether to be disappointed, or excited about that. Now he knew he could still make healing potions from blood - he'd have to mix the vital fluid with some herbs to mask the taste - but could he gain the essence of anything else? He stowed the bloody quarrel into his quiver and resumed his hunt.

Twice more Nevin caught sight of small animals, but each time they disappeared into the brush before he could get a bead on them with his weapon. If it was not for his limited success already he might have given up in disgust by now - a few hours had gone by since his last encounter with an animal that had actually produced something of value. At least he hadn't been rash enough to waste his shots in frustration.

He froze in place as a strange sound reached his ears. It was a sizzling, popping noise - almost like something was being cooked, but not quite right for that. This was…. Strange. Nevin tightened the string on his bow and began slowly stalking in the direction that the sound was coming from.

He came upon what he ranked up there as one of the weirder sights that he had seen in a while. There was a… lizard? It looked like a lizard at least, four legs, long tail, scales, the works. Problem was, this lizard was approximately the size of a dog, and a larger one at that. The thing looked like it weighed at least sixty pounds if not more. It was currently crouched on top of a large rock - and underneath the rock, Nevin could see a small hollow that looked like it had only recently been dug.

Instead of trying to dig in after whatever had gone under the rock though, the abnormally large lizard was on top of the rock - and was drooling onto the stone. The goop that trailed from its fanged mouth was the source of the unnatural noise - the yellow-orange fluid was falling onto the grey surface of the rock, and wherever it connected it fizzed and popped, and Nevin was astonished to see it eating away at the stone. He'd worked with acids before - but never had he seen a lizard that drooled it.

He had to have it. The blood of this creature was sure to be capable of holding the essence of that acid, and while he had no clue what he would do with that essence blood, he wanted, no he needed to have it. It was too new, too unusual for him to be able to pass it up. If he had been in his right mind, Nevin would most likely have left well enough along - he didn't know what else the beast was capable of, he had no support, and only the one essence of vitality that he had taken from the rabbit earlier.

But the blood mage was most definitely not thinking clearly - his obsession of making new discoveries and advancing his blood magic held him too strongly in its thrall. Up came his crossbow, seating the stock firmly against his shoulder, and he sighted down it, aiming for the unusual lizard.

The thing must have heard his movement, or felt the shift, or something - its head twisted around, giving Nevin a clear view of its gaping maw, and the surge of yellow-orange acid that was bubbling forth from deeper in the creature’s throat. He reflexively pulled the trigger before recoiling in shock at the sight.

The bolt flew through the air, propelled forwards by the force of the string. The lizard tried to avoid it, twisting itself to one side - but it was too large, and got pierced in the side by the bold. Instead of a direct impact though the bolt sliced through the beast’s flank, carving a bloody furrow along its chest and side. The shrieking noise that ripped from the lizard’s mouth was unlike anything Nevin had ever heard before - and he never wanted to hear it again after today.

It warbled in pitch, the sound like to plates of glass grinding against each other. The noise drove spikes of pain into Nevin’s brain, immediately creating an intense headache that nearly sent him to his knees as the sound washed over him. He looked up in time to see the injured lizard charging at him, yellow orange fluid staining its fangs as it lunged for his neck.

Nevin threw himself to the side in a desperate attempt to dodge the overgrown lizard. He had seen what that acidic fluid was doing to the rock, he did not want to find out what it would do to his own tender flesh. The frantic dodge carried the alchemist out of the way of the snapping fangs, though a drop of the yellow orange fluid flew off and onto his cloak, sizzling through it in moments and scorching his shoulder. The pain from that didn't really register though, as Nevin had forgotten a very important fact.

The creature had claws. Despite mostly avoiding the dangers of the mouth, the alchemist hadn't considered trying to avoid the rest of the beast, and he paid for it as the claws raked his side, tearing through his shirt and tunic. A wave of pain blossomed from the injury, and he snarled in anger at the idiotic mistake that had led to it. The lizard landed and turned around, re-orienting itself on the red-head, who had now dropped his crossbow and was swinging his staff around, bringing it to bear. The two circled each other slowly, animal hunger and instinct on one side, pained intellect on the other.

Nevin could feel the bloody runes along his skin singing in exultation again, a loud crescendo that drowned out the noise in the area. Blood was flowing from the lizard's side, running in crimson rivulets down its scales. The magic inside of him sung to Nevin of the potential in that blood, the possibility of unknown powers just waiting, begging to be tapped, an enticing chorus of wordless voices that needed to be heeded by the blood mage. Worse, his own blood was trickling down his torso, clotting up against the fabric that had been dragged into the wound – and the melody that his magic sang to him of his own blood was.... terrifying in its intoxicating effects, and in the power that it wanted to spread.

When the attack came, it happened in a rush. With a sudden bunching of its muscles, the lizard charged forward again, this time snapping for Nevin's legs. But now that he had a melee weapon in his hands, the man was far better prepared. He swung the staff around in an arc, catching the angry beast in the side of its head, knocking the charge off course as it stumbled away from the blow. This time, Nevin noticed that when the lizard turned to face him, the motion was awkward and slow, and a realization came to him.

The beast was much like a charging bull – straight line rushes that could devastate the victim, and in probably normally worked by chasing its prey down and pinning them down under those wicked claws, and then began to eat. What it did not seem to be good at, was maneuvering, it was cumbersome for the beast to turn. In fact, the lizard had to come to an almost dead stop to turn, and Nevin knew that that was going to be the key to his victory in this fight. He could move faster from side to side than the lizard could, now he just had to take advantage of that.

So, against his better judgment, he ran at the lizard, swerving a few steps away to avoid the attempt at another bite. True to what he had thought, the creature began to ponderously turn to chase him, its motions ungainly as it swung around to swipe at him with its claws. He wasn't completely safe here by its side, but whatever abomination of evolution had led to this thing had not prepared it for something to attack from the side. Nevin swung his staff up, the length of oak and metal bindings catching the thing in the stomach, and with a grunt of exertion, he flung the dog-sized lizard up, and it landed heavily on its side. Unfortunately the man didn't come away unscathed from the exchange – as he levered it off the ground, the unnatural lizard had managed to scratch his lower right leg with its claws, scraping through the heavy fabric as it was knocked off balance.

Nevin took advantage of it being disoriented from suddenly being knocked on its side, and began spinning his staff end over end, the weapon picking up speed and momentum as it completed revolutions. Within moments it was blurring through the air , a low hum coming from it as Nevin's wrists and forearms flexed, twisting it end over end. It was just as the creature came to its feet that he lashed out.

The momentum of the spinning granted the blow more force than it would have had unaided. Nevin had noticed before when he caught the lizard in the side of the head with his blow that the beast had mostly managed to shake the attack off – he wasn't a fighter, so he wasn't surprised that he wasn't quite strong enough to really injure it so easily. But he was at least somewhat educated, and he knew what the momentum would do. There was a somewhat sickening squelch as the iron-covered end of the staff smashed into the lizard's head.

Two things happened when the blow connected. The metal caved in the head, crushing it inwards, pinkish-gray mess oozing outwards from the injury. And the lizard's mouth was driven closed – far more than it should have been capable of naturally. The fangs pierced through the tender insides of its own mouth as the jaw ligaments tore, delivering acid to the flesh that was quite unsuited for withstanding it.

Nevin panted heavily as his side and leg stung fiercely, blood dripping from his injuries. The crescendo from the scarlet lines was almost overwhelming now, and he needed to satiate at least one of the demands before it drove him mad.

Nevin prepared to harvest the lizard quickly. His body was aching now, and the lines across his body were thrumming in anticipation. Every time he worked with new blood this happened, or if it was blood that he hadn't experimented with all the Essences possible. It was one way he knew whether or not something had a hidden aspect he could draw out. But this time it was triumphant, singing of all the potential possibilities that this blood carried within it. He had to work to flip the lizard over onto its other side to get started though – he wasn't normally squeamish, but he had no desire to go sticking his hands into the beast's braincase to get the blood he needed.

No, getting to the bloody furrow in its side that his crossbow bolt had left behind was the easiest way of getting what he wanted. So sixty pounds of dead lizard had to be lifted, and with his side and leg injured this was going to be... yes. Painful. He tried to do most of the pushing/lifting action with his weight on his uninjured leg, but even so Nevin couldn't avoid straining with his other leg as well, and there was no way to avoid stress on the wound on his side.

The effort sent a fresh wave of searing pain shooting through his body as he pushed the lizard onto its side. He half-sat, half-slumped down onto the ground next to the carcass, his chest heaving as he finally pulled his shirt up to actually take a look at the wound that was the real problem for him. It wasn't as easy as just pulling it up though. When the beast had jumped past him, raking him with its claws, it had pushed some of the fabric of his shirt into the cuts. It was an odd visual effect he presented there: utterly pale skin that had not seen much of the light of day for years, covered every which way by a criss-crossing mess of crimson lines – lines which were apparently bleeding into from the cuts, bloodflows that were entirely separate from the crimson liquid that even now was oozing from inside of him.

Tugging the shirt up and out of the way had pulled that fabric out of the wound – wounds properly, as there were three distinct gashes in his side – which had been plugging up the injury. More blood began to flow as the impromptu stuffing was torn free, and Nevin let out a long hissing breath of pain as he rummaged in his pouch. He had had at least the presence of mind to pack along some staunching herbal compresses, and he pressed one into his side as he sat next to the carcass, taking deep, steady breaths as he waited for the period of light-headedness to come and go.

Finally he felt... while not ok, at least well enough to work, and the magic that sang along his skin would be denied no longer. He pinned the compress against his side with one arm, and pulled out the empty vial. The cork was carefully worked out, and he placed the opening of the vial into one of the still trickling rivulets of blood that were running down the side of the lizard. He pulled on that crescendo of need and channeled it into pulling that intimidating acidic quality to the fore.

“Sanguine Acidum.” The words tumbled from his lips in a breathless rush of victory. He knew, in the back of his head, that words were entirely unnecessary for what he was doing – his magic was not something that required vocalization to work. It was really the same 'spell' being worked each time, just applied in a different way depending on what was in the forefront of his mind. Despite that, he did it anyway, as it helped him... focus, on what he was wanting to capture the essence of in the blood that he was working with.

The crimson fluid that was now spiraling into the open mouth of the glass vial began to shine – and took on an unhealthy yellow-orange hue. It was a strange visual effect, as crimson chased streaks of yellow-orange through the glass, mingling and yet seemingly remaining separate the entire time. The vial filled and Nevin had to cut the flow of his magic to the ability – there remained yet more blood inside of the lizard, and yet... he felt like he had captured all of the acidic essence he would be able to. Instead he shrugged and struggled to his feet, swaying slightly as the blood rushed to his head after being seated so long.

With careful steps he walked back to his crossbow, unstringing it and slinging the weapon around onto his back. The staff was pulled with a wet sucking noise from the head of the lizard, and he wiped the gore on the end of it off on the leaf-covered forest floor, then slid the staff back into its holster. Now for the fun part – dragging this carcass back to town. The compress was helping, but even so he knew it would be slow going to get this heavy load back into town safely. No choice for it though, but to get started - he was the one who had avoided asking anyone for help. His stinging leg and bloody side were reminders that while he might be skilled in some regards, direct combat was not one of them.

Nevin stared steadily at the heavy carcass of the lizard that was currently sitting on the floor of his basement. It had taken him a fair amount of time to get the body back into his shop – and a fair amount of weird looks as he dragged the strange creature through the town. But he had managed to get the thing down to the basement, and now he was trying to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of the earthly remains of the lizard.

Getting the rest of the blood out was a priority. Even if there was no more life force remaining inside of the creature, he could still work on it to try getting another essence. No more of the Essence of Acid though – not enough of that potent energy remained for him to work with. But maybe another vial of healing blood could be possible, and if not even un-distilled blood was something that he was sure he could find a use for at some point. So draining that normal blood out and putting it into some kind of container would be necessary – as well as combining some anti-coagulating agents and scent reducing herbs into it so the thick smell of blood didn't fill up his shop and drive off customers.

So, first things first. He went over to his storage box and sorted through to find another healing compress, and a wrap. The compress was swapped out for the blood-soaked one that was currently pressing into his side, Nevin gasping as it pulled away scabbing material. A quick motion and he had slapped the new one in place, and once that was done he peeled off his blood-soaked shirt and tossed it to the side, and used the bandage-wrap to hold the compress in place without the shirt in the way anymore. He stood still for a moment as he took several deep breaths. A glare was shot at the shirt – he would need to get rid of that, but after he'd sorted out the carcass.

That done, Nevin grabbed a long, thin scarf and pulled out an herbal mixture, and sprinkled the powdery concoction along the length of fabric. The powdered scarf was wrapped around his face, blocking out the smell of the dead lizard. Nevin slowly paced over to his tool rack and pulled down a set of heavy tongs and a sharply honed knife, and moved back to the desk. First order of business for this process? Making a cut near end and letting the blood drain out of the body – he looked around and found a treated bucket, the mixture he'd used on the inside of the bucket would keep the blood from soaking into the wood. He's use bucket to catch the draining blood. The alchemist matched action to thought, his mind continuing to work as his hands carried out their bloody task.

Then? Skinning the damned thing, the scales would probably be worth something even if he couldn't use them in any alchemical mixtures. Then he'd harvest the organs and see if any of the acid was remaining inside of the body, maybe in some kind of sac? He'd have to be careful to not pop that and pour acid over himself. Once that was done he'd have to go see if anyone recognized what this blasted lizard had been, and if there was any profit to be made from selling the body parts.

Nevin hefted the bag of coins in his hand - it was a fair mix of silver and copper, no gold to worry about drawing unwanted attention with. He had just stepped out of a butcher's shop - the heavy set man had been quite pleased to hear what meat Nevin was trying to sell. According to what he told Nevin, the lizard that he had fought and killed was a troublesome pest that bred slowly in the forest, and had a primarily meat-based diet.

A previous hunter had managed to take one down and bring it in, and the town had found out that the meat was, while not enough to be considered a true delicacy, was definitely higher quality than was normally found. As such, people paid premiums whenever a hunter was able to bring one down. Nevin himself got a bit of a bonus for having already drained the meat of blood - apparently it tended to stink up whatever work area it was in. Though the butcher did seem put out that Nevin didn't offer any of the organs for sale, but that was easily explained as the Alchemist wanting to see what the organs would be good for in his trade.

There was a warning about the acid though. Apparently anything less than glass or a treated metal would eventually fail against the 'bile of the beast' as the butcher put it, unless it was kept in the pouch that it had originally been in inside of the lizard's body. Nevin filed that information away for later - he had filled a small glass jar with the acid, so he wasn't particularly concerned about it. The lizard's acid sac had not been filled, or even half filled when Nevin had slain the beast - it had been trying to get through that rock after all, so had used up a portion od its acid already.

Now then, Nevin had an unexpected bonus of coins. He already had a fair idea of what to do with those coins though - his shirt and leather tunic had proven not up to the task of protecting him from injury. Time to see if Yark or Llukrath or one of the other Journeymen could use the scales to make a reinforced hide chest piece of some kind. He headed in the direction of his on-again off-again employers, hoping they could at least help him out by telling him who could, if they could not. The alchemist paused as a bout of dizziness washed over him and he frowned.

He had lost more blood than he had initially thought, it seemed. And while he could use the vial of vital essence that he had gathered from the rabbit, he saw that as a waste at this point - especially now that he was back in town. Once the vertigo had faded Nevin started on his way towards the clinic instead. Hopefully one of the magical healers there would be comfortable with working on a patient who insisted that their clothing remained on. If not, well, he s have to go back to his shop and see how he could handle this injury with his own stocks. It would be a hit to his profits, but better that than revealing to anyone just what was running across his skin.

Of course though, having never gone there from the butcher's shop - and that had been a miracle in and of itself that he had made it there without getting lost - Nevin soon realized that he had no idea where he was. Correction, he knew where he was: standing in front of a large, barred entrance to Stonevale's sewers. What he didn't know was how in the name of crimson he had gotten there. He sighed, and started looking for someone to help guide him.

~Fin~

Name of Judgement: A Sanguine Start (solo)
Type of Judgement: No Judgement

Nevin receives:
565 EXP
27 GP

Spoil request given with agreement that not to be used in combat threads, with description of:
"Essence of Vitality (Healing Potion) - Rabbit
Essence of Acid (Acid potion) - Acid Lizard
3 pints of blood - acid lizard
Tough scales - Acid Lizard"

“Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red.”
― Clive Barker, Books of Blood: Volumes One to Three

All rewards have been added.