A Single Drop:
The sign above the door read "A Single Drop" in an elegant script, with a single green teardrop carved and painted into the wood beside the name. In Radasanth's underground network, this store had become known as a place where one could acquire a selection of poisons and antidotes, and even have custom crafted ones made, with no questions asked and no Guild interference. The proprietor was a redhaired man who seemed to always be working alone here,
but he was polite to a fault when dealing with people. A few ruffians had tried taking advantage of the store, thinking that a single man couldn't be that intimidating - right until that bloody whip had bled them out, coiling around them and stabbing in with sharp barbs. Then the alchemist had cheerily given them a surface patch up, binding any wounds, and tossed them out onto the street once more.
The interior of the store neat and orderly, and somewhat dark in the interior. This was due to the fact that the sources of light were small flames that burned in the corners of the room and a desk torch behind the counter - a minimum of light being provided, and a minimum exposed flame to keep any accidents from occurring. There were shelves along each wall, and in the middle of the room two standing shelf units. The two on the walls held a variety of bottles, some glowing on their own and others not, in a variety of colors - but also locked behind a mesh cage, to prevent anyone from just wandering off with one of the bottles. The shelves in the middle of the room held plants and small mineral samples, each labeled neatly with what they were - here, only one shelf was locked, and this one bore the outright poisonous substances, those things that were harmful even if ingested directly. Behind the low wooden counter - which held a ledger and a register - was a door, currently closed, that lead into the back of the store.
This night had been fairly quiet for Nevin, the owner of the store. There had been a slight ruckus when he unveiled the fact that he could do blood based magical alchemy, drawing a few people, and chasing others away. But he simply treated it as another avenue of his business, and made a trade in providing his skill in drawing out some kind of quality inherent within blood that was brought to him. The concept had seemed a bit strange to people at first - until he sold a potion that captured the inherent ability to 'jump' brewed from several rabbits. The boy had been bounding on rooftops, cheerfully avoiding his parents for nearly an hour before the serum wore off. After that, he had seen an uptick in curious onlookers, those who wondered just what was going on with this strange man with the blood-red hair. A few people had tried calling him out, claiming that he had obviously rigged the potion - until he, fed up with the accusations - which he firmly believed were being generated by agents from the Alchemist's Guild that he was currently clashing with - until he had literally hunted down a deer, and dragged it kicking and screaming back into town. Literally, kicking and screaming, the thing had been terrified, and impaled on his barbed whip, so he couldn't blame it. Still. The rather blatant display afterwards, as he made a healing potion from the life force of the deer quelled any nay-sayers in the crowds. It also dried up the business from families who were looking for things for their kids, but he dealt with that as it came up.
So now, he was currently rearranging the bottles that were arrayed in one of the cabinets on the side of the store. He had recently sold several potions and had to rebrew more, so he was taking this opportunity to clean up a little and reorganize his wares. Apparently there was a rash of 'Yellow Death' poisonings running around, so Nevin was making sure that the antidotes he sold to counter that particular toxin were closer to the front. He paused when the interior of his shop rang with the ring of the door chime. He honestly hadn't been expecting it at this point, with the night having gone by so peacefully. He quickly shut the shelf and turned towards the person walking into his shop - and his hand flew up, his magic coursing through him and shooting out towards the other man.
The blood, the green ichor that was raging, furious and loud, along the half-elf's jacket, shot off, and hung in the air for a moment before compacting inwards, becoming a solid green rock that fell towards the ground. Nevin was rubbing the bridge of his nose, and desperately wishing that he wasn't working right this very second so he could pour himself a drink. Whatever the thing was that the blood had come from, it was inordinately powerful, and absolutely enraged. And it was making his head ache, as the chorus of his skin cried out loud, strident wordless songs.
"I... would thank you kindly, not to dirty the store, sir. If you came in here with that, I presume you want me to do something with it? And what in the name of Crimson did it come from?" Nevin's tone was gentle, rebuking as he pointed with one slender, red-lined finger at the green 'rock' on the ground.
