A toast to clear heads and heaving stomachs

[Roht Mirage]

A second ceiling of smoke hung in the apothecary's shop, rich with the smell of incense. The holders were spaced all around the room, cutting it with vertical lines of grey. On six tables set across the room, a rainbow of liquids and powders were housed in vials or pouches, all of it kept well away from the incense burners. There were clearly some reagents that, if caught alight, would harm more than just the shop's inventory count.

Through the dry haze, a young, dusky-skinned man adjust his hat lower and coughed. If there was an opposite to 'muggy', a parching aura that worked as tenaciously as moisture did, this was it. How the shopkeeper kept his eyes form drying to raisins, he couldn't fathom.

“Hm... excuse me,” he said as he approached the main counter. His bulky coat hung loosely off of his knotted shoulders. “I need something for a party. Or, after a party,” he said, voice cracking.

“The alleys have that kind of herb aplenty,” the shopkeeper said carefully -waiting, testing- as if a single uttered word might unleash the 'secret stock' and prove him a very happy liar.

“Bury me. No!” the young man gasped, which only led to more coughing.

“Oh,” came the disappointed response.

“What I need,” he said as he carefully reclaimed his breath through gritted teeth, “Is something to sober a person up. Like, instantly. If it's even possible.”

I'm looking for a concoction that can be kept in a small stoppered vial. A combination of herbs and magic that, with one oh-god-kill-me-now sniff, will kick someone into a sober state no matter how inebriated they are. It can only counter the affects of alcohol, not drugs or poisons. With care to keep it stoppered when not in use, it can be used upwards of a dozen times.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The apothecary rubbed his bandaged palms together, letting his itchy eyes wander over the rest of his stock, ticking off ingredients in his head. It was a simple enough request, so he quickly started scurrying around the workshop, pinching handfuls of this and that, picking up small stoppered vials, and eventually appearing back behind the counter in a flurry of aprons, bandages from the occasional mishap, and itchy, dry skin.

"Alright, something like that will set you back 175 gold sir. And it'll do you right for a good few parties," he added with a scraping wink. The apothecary didn't seem to notice how dessicated he was under the heat enshrouding the room.

With deft hands he started mixing up the ingredients - mixing powders in a mortar and pestle, adding drops of oddly coloured liquids to glasses over burners and in no time there was a stoppered vial full of amber liquid sitting before them both on the counter, tantalisingly close.

[Roht Mirage]

At the word 'sir', the young man fiddled with his hat, adjusting it lower over his steel grey eyes as he watch the apothecary work. Powders and fluids in all manner of dangerous colors danced in his hands, even if his skin looked like it might turn to powder itself. Clearly, he had attuned himself to his craft, just as a blacksmith becomes blistered and tempered, and a baker becomes doughy around the middle.

But sand... what does one become if they truly master it?

Coughing to still his mind, he pulled from his coat the prescribed amount in printed mythril bars and gold coins. "Thank you," he croaked, eager to return to Corone's teasing humidity. He plucked up the vial and held it close as he turned, but stopped and looked at it uneasily. Do I really want to test it? He looked back at the shopkeeper...

...who just smiled. Dry, cracking lips framed gums that clung to teeth like a climber's fingers on the edge of a cliff.

I'm sure he knows what he's doing. The vial disappeared into the coat, and the man hurried out.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Transaction Completed.

[Max Dirks]

175 GP removed.