[Herbal Invention] Nothing in Common? At Least They Both Want to Bite Me (Crimson)

[Theying]

Brightening 4, First Cycle of Imperos
Autumn of Era II of the Celestine Mandate
Era XIV Post Fractum
Paradigm: Selheim

Theying was not pleased. The idea to combine an insect and undead repellent had occurred to him only recently, so he scrounged together what he had on hand for this try. The resulting resources were poor. He produced Dog Rose and Bastit commercially, true but those resources were centered upon Paxia. His garden around Jaedaxia was primarily for personal use so. So he had some but not really a lot of it.

There were only four Bastit plants that were in any condition for experimentation because of the simple expedient of Marguerite borrowing them to cover smells of a spill of something at one of the small theaters. If it hadn't been for that stroke of fortune there wouldn't be any usable, since the key part of this herb was th oils. If the plant had been dried then the oils would be less than worthless for his purposes.

The condition of his Dog Rose supply was little better. He had obtained a three still-blooming flowers and five of the vibrant orange seed pods from his seed-trading partner. The Dog Rose was always a very prickly plant, it always had a strong dislike for everyone but for some reason it hated the undead with a (literally) undying passion. It sheathed itself in razor thorns to protect itself from the living but it always took great pains to develop traits abhorrent or dangerous to the undead. The big question that the lore didn't answer was what specifically drove away the undead and why. He hoped to answer this.

Still, there were only four shots at this. If the plants (or there spirits thereof) didn't get along, which was quite likely consider the prevalent attitude of Dog Rose in general, then it would be possible that none of them would work at all. If Theying misidentified how the Dog Rose's unmitigated rage and loathing towards the tragically soully-challenged they would fail. If the two plants got along in an unexpected way then they would likely do something wholly different, which could very well be fatal in this situation. Still there was simply no way to predict without trying, plants rarely surrendered their secrets to anyone be them clues to how they do things physically or the whims of their spirits.

Staring at the table in front of him, with all the materials present, the master herbalist balked. He found, collected, nurtured, bred, and prepared herbs. He had used herbs to heal, harm, inspire love, protect honor, restore beauty, and provide for his family. He had done and was familiar with all aspects of herbalism, except this. His last major attempt to use two herbs to do something greater than either could manage alone was an abject failure. He failed miserably to cure the Feeble Pox, the best he had managed was to slow the progression of the disease and even then at the cost of a handful of lives. In many ways his development as a herbalist stagnated at that point as he retreated to the tried and true trails blazed by others. In a very real sense Theying was going to explore new territory.

The first thing he would try would be by far the easiest. He would simply crush the oils out of both the flower and herb with a mortar and pestle and mix the resulting juices. This was a particularly blunt approach that bets that both plants repel what they do by using their physical make ups alone.

The second one attempt would something more complex. The Bastit was known to work just with the oils, so that remained unchanged, but the Dog Rose might have a more spiritual approach to dealing with the undead so the flower was left intact and left to soak in the Bastit oils.

Then again, the flower of the Dog Rose might have nothing to do with the plant's legendary stalwart defense against the less-than-living. The same bright orange seedpod that protected desperate mariners against scurvy might also ward them against the advances of the semi-living. Theying planned to cut a seed pod into pieces, grinding the juices out and mixing them with those of the Bastit plant.

The fourth and final attempt would take a slightly more tactful route with a seedpod. Instead of cutting it to pieces, he would merely cut a small hole and remove the seeds. At that point he would add the crushed oils of both the plant's own flower and that of the Bastit herb.

Having gone over the plan, there was nothing else to excuse inaction. He cautiously picked up his tools to begin work. This was to be a time of great uncertainty, as disaster can come quickly during the preparation as the first poor man who turned the normally benign Furuna into one of the most horrific herbal poisons available simply because he made the mistake of having copper tools. Theying was already half expecting a disaster, considering the hostile nature of the plants he was attempting to work with.

[Crimson]

Theying first attempt, the one in which he attempted to mix the primary physical properties of both flower and herb together, worked well enough. The oils mixed, producing an odd bitter smell from a brown compound before him. However he decided to store the new compound was his choice, but Theying would immediately notice that the smell grew stronger with each wiff. Perhaps the result was a more effective repellant -- one that could repel both undead and unfriendly pests away within a greater radius?

As for Theying's second, third, and fourth attempts, he was confronted with similar results: the odd brownish liquid emerged when juices from both flower and herb combined and produced the odd, bitter-salty smell. In fact, the combined smell of each attempt became so strong that Theying was forced to take a few paces away from his work bench to catch his breath. It was then that the Sage Herbalist saw flies -- dozens of them -- litering the ground around his work station. There were also insects, from moths to cockroachs, to other household pests that survived the cold outside by invading Theying's warm shed.

It almost appeared as if the insects were attemping to flee, Theying would later note, as many of them were caught against walls and other obstacles that could have prevented their escape. The result, however, was undeniable. They were exterminated after being exposed to the smell for several minutes.

[Theying]

Well, part of it was definitely successful. The results went well beyond what he expected. Normally Bastit just drives insects off, but this was KILLING them. That was huge, but that's only part of what he was looking for. Still, the ability to drive all insects from an area or kill them was quite valuable.

Now all he had to was evaluate the other claim. He carefully, one at a time, put each bit into a small, sealed wooden box for transport. Metal containers were out of the question and the quantities were too small for wine-skins. The only thing he needed now was some undead. Particularly the kind that wasn't ready, willing, and able to eat the tradesman right off.

Placing the precious boxes in a bag, Theying left his shed. He was trying to recall if he had any leads on where to find undead.

[Crimson]

Interesting enough for Theying, there were 'leads' about undead all over they city. Jaeedaxia, by this time, was in the middle of its second Vampire Scare to date. The notorious bloodsuckers were back, and everyone and their mothers seemed keen on not letting their younglings out after the Suns began their descent. This was, approximately, the time Theying wandered out of his workshop / shed and began looking for trouble.

Quite literally.

And, appropriately enough, Theying managed to overhead a pair of Protectorat Members muttering about 'another defensive' at Chateau Noir. Whether or not Theying knew where this omnious structure was, it wouldn't take him more than ten minutes to find another kind commoner who knew exactly where it was.

He was buck-toothed carpenter who was just heading home after another fruitless brighteing. "Oui, Noir? Oui, just north east of the city gates! But don't go there! Ugly things happen there! Ugly things!" With that, the short man scurried away, obviously aware that Suns Set was mere candlemarks away.

[Theying]

Well, it wasn't likely to work on bloodsuckers, Theying wasn't entirely certain that he would classify those things as undead. Them being closer to unlive than anything else. Still, if he was lucky there might just be some other less-than-living folk around so he could see how it works and go home.

Theying had an idea of where this Chateau was, but double checked to make sure. He didn't want to cause problems or anything, but establishing whether or not this worked was a very worthy endeavor indeed. He was ready for most forms of conflict, being armed with his regular weapontry and herbs. Still, the relatively short human hoped they wouldn't be necessary, if this worked he would be in and get out as quickly and discreetly as possible.

What was the point in waiting? Theying strode towards the accursed structure in his particular gait. There would be trials ahead, but no purpose would be served by attempting to avoid them.

This was a risk but it needed to be done. If the herbs proved effective then it could save lives and make money. What about it could not be worthy? After his defeats of the past the hope flooding him now was a refreshing change. A success here would balance his greatest failure as a herbalist and allow his to continue to grow in his chosen profession. A failure could spell his death, but so did getting out of bed every brightening.

[Crimson]

No risk, no reward.

Right?

Either way, Theying had a fair walk ahead of him. By this time, the Gates were being readied to be locked and some of the guards scoffed or simply ignored him when he insisted on leaving the city. "Don't 'spect us to be waiting out for you when the vamps come!", one of the younger recruits called from the batterments. Ahead, Theying could see the ominous silhouette of Chateau Noir from a distance. It was several miles away, near the eastern edge of the peninsula north of Jaedaxia.

Some candlemarks later Theying found himself in the dark. The Suns had long since descended into the horizon, but at least he was nearing what appeared to be a campsite. There were dozen of tents, hundreds even. And immediately, Theying saw a familiar flag hoisted above the larger, more prominant looking command tents. It was a navy blue flag with a single silver bar in the middle. It was the flag of the New Order. Theying's heard of them, mainly from the gossip and the rumors that his wife brings home. Other than that, Theying knew that they were firstly Jaedaxian and secondly vampire-hunters.

A look-out on horseback intercepted Theying as he approached the camp.

"Halt", he called. Then lifting his torch higher to bring more light to the newcomer he asked, "what brings you to camp? Are you the healer we're expecting from the city? You're early. And where's the rest of you?"

[Theying]

The Chateau cut a particularly creepy image in the twilight, but that would be his best (and possibly only) chance to come up against some undead foes. Besides, it was still possible (but extremely unlikely) that the vitriolic hatred for the undead that the Dog Rose had would also extend to the Vampire. It was... uncommfortable... to contemplate, but Theying had time to think.

He then came across a rather unexpected encampment, which was somewhat upsetting. It meant something big was happening, and also made it more likely that whatever defenses were present would be quite active. This meant that if there were undead they would be out in force (good thing) but so would the vampires and other defenders (bad thing). He was walking and still considering his next move when the rider intercepted him, when the lookout bade him to halt the skilled tradesman complied.

"I am sorry to say that I am not he," the relatively short human responded. "I suppose could bind wounds and set bones, but I must confess that such things should be left to those who have more of an interest than I. Truth be told, I am herbalist by trade. In fact, I do happen to have completed an experiment of mine. All I need is to find some zombies or skeletons or some such to see which, if any, formula for undead repellant actually works."

[Crimson]

The rider regarded Theying for a moment. "Repellant?", he repeated with a slight tilt of his helmeted head, "well, if it helps I might as well show you to the commander ... if you're still interested that is." With that, the scout motioned for the newcomer to follow him. Along the way, the rider met up with a few more horsemen and explained to them the visitor's business for being in the encampment.

"Undead repellant?", another one repeated, "are you serious?" He cast a quick glance at Theying then chuckled. "Probably from the Institute", Theying heard him mutter to a nearby comrade, "let the captains deal with him. You got patrol duty. C'mon!"

The riders chuckled. Before they all left, however, the first scout who intercepted Theying gave the newcomer instructions to get to the command tent -- which, Theying realized -- was quite visible from where they stood. "Look for Captain Moran. Send them that Patrol 3 gave you access to the grounds."

[Theying]

Theying didn't get it at first, but after a short period of time he began to realize exactly how silly the whole thing sounded. He would be dealing with people who had no backing in herbal lore at all and would be learning about this stuff out of the blue. Hopefully, none of them remembered his attempts at curing the Feeble Pox. True, he hadn't made any claims about his studies, but there were those who remembered the master herbalist for that failure and that failure alone. Well, some considered it a partial success considering he managed to prevent the disease from advancing and spreading, but that wasn't CUREING it.

When Theying was given directions to the command tent he followed them, something that was made easy by the fact that it was in plain sight. Still, the tradesman had to remind himself that there was opportunity here. When he arrived at the command tent he informed the guards by saying, "I'm Theying. Patrol 3 gave me access to the grounds and told me to look for a Captain Moran."

[Crimson]

Two armed men (obviously) manned the entrance to the command tent. Upon approaching, the pair held up their hands and adjusted their spears into a reasonably aggressive fashion. When Theying gave his introduction, however, one of the spearmen volunteered to escrot him to the Captain. "In here", he said roughly.

The interior of the tent was bustling with men in uniforms of the Protectorat's blue and gold and other men who donned blue and silver. The fact that different uniforms meant different factions was obvious to Theying from the get-go: the silver-blues were treated like hostile guests with whom no one really wanted to speak to. There were also a larger number of men in the blue and gold uniforms, including the dark-haired man with a serious look that soon approached the Expert Herbalist.

"You are here to see me?", he asked flatly. The Captain was indeed as serious as his title and seemed to regard Theying as an unexpected and rather uninvited surprise. For the most part, he held himself a good three paces from the newcomer and seemed to eye him cautiously, if not suspiciously.

[Theying]

Theyiing had little experience with politics, and he hadn't wanted to. He wanted no parts of conflicts over power games or juristiction. Still, it was clear that something big was going on here and the tradesman didn't want to be stumbling out there all alone and likely to be attacked by all sides.

Theying began with a respectful bow, and fell back upon the most formal tones in his arsenal. He did not wish to be any further on anyone's bad side, although it appeared that it was far too late to stay on the man's good side.

"I was told that you were the one to see," Theying said. "My name is Theying, and I'm a Master herbalist. I was merely on my way to test the effectiveness of several formulas for undead repellant, but it seems that there is more going on here than I expected. Would it be feasible for me to continue the experiments at this time?"

[Crimson]

"Experiments?", the captain repeated in the same manner the previous guards had, "undead repellant?" He raised an eyebrow but did not seem at all displeased. Curious now perhaps but not immediately annoyed -- at least, Theying couldn't tell.

"Well, you say you are a Master Herbalist?", Moran continued, "well, sir, if you could develop such a formula I would know several people who'd invest in such a product." He nodded, seemingly pleased. "As for experimenting in times of danger, I would advice you not to do so ... but if you want, I cannot stop you. Just don't get in the way of my men."

"Sergeant", Moran told the spearman next to him, "see that our Herbalist friend finds some undead to repel." He smirked, grimly, then nodded before briskly walking away.

"You sure that stuff works?", the sergeant asked while he escorted Theying back outside the command tent, "my squad leaves in two candlemarks ... so if you can wait til then ... you can come with us. Gods, we need all the help we can get. Undead are everywhere these past few darkenings. Some of them don't die easy, too ..."

[Theying]

Maybe that was just the way he was, some people were born angry. Theying just didn't know enough about the Captain to make any judgements, but the tradesman was finding it hard to read the other fellow. Still, the response was positive enough.

"Thank you," Theying answered with another bow. He really way grateful for the shot, and was sympathetic to the Captains concerns. If the commander had said no then Theying wouldn't have continued.

When the Sergeant left, the skilled herbalist went with him attempting to suppress the spring in his step. The man expressed some valid concerns, and a time table, as they were leaving. Theying saw fit to answer.

"I'm reasonably certain that it will work," Theying answered truthfully. "But you never know for sure until you actually put it to use. Don't worry, I have medicinal herbs, my medical kit, and all eight of my daggers with me. I should be helpful even if none of the formulas are effective, or worse."

Two candlemarks was a reasonably long amount of time, but Theying could put that to good use. His worn armor was still bothering him, but the extra layer of padding underneath was doing wonders for that. There were some things that needed cleaning, and the sedatives and soporifics he intended to use on his daggers still needed some final prep work to be easy to apply in the heat of battle. Just because there were undead about, and he was looking for undead, didn't mean that there weren't living foes to watch out for.

[Crimson]

Secrets : OoC: please list what you did exactly as prep Thanks!

The two candlemarks were passed soon enough and Theying was able to do his prep while he was at it. The sergeant allowed him some space in one of the tents in the camp, his own tent. "Just don't break anything", the gruff man said before he wandered off into the cold Autumn darkening. When the two candlemarks were up, the sergeant returned with the rest of his squad.

There were ten men in total, eleven if you counted Theying. They were all geared up with an assortment of weapons, including swords, daggers, and crossbows. Only the sergeant had a mount, which meant that everyone else was walking. "This is the herbalist I told you boys about", the sergeant barked from his almond colored thoroughbred. Each squadmember also held a freshly lit torch which should help if the undead was indeed around and about.

"Ay, just stay in the middle of our formation and put that repellant to good use", one of the men muttered and everyone else chuckled nervously.

"All right, move out! Follow me, we're heading north. We're patroling just like the last time!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"