Completed Supplemental Testing (Verin)

[Inoadar]

22nd Day of Summer, 514 It was a relief to have Vanari take Vera shopping, (or was it the other way around?) It was not just the girlie giggling of long-lost sisters, or whatever they seemed to think themselves to be. Nor was it any begrudging of Vera's lack of focus on toxin crafting. It was the relentless turmoil simmering in Inoadar's mind at how close he'd come to charging in and hacking them down in a manic fever of paranoia. The paranoia still pitched its case against reality. Not every day, but all too often. It always seemed to come to a point where Vanari and Burke became part of a staring, uncomfortable silence, stemming from some cold remark, edged with accusation, that burbled between sick giggles of his own. Vera would step in, oblivious to the truth of it, laughing at "Uncle Nolan"s joke. He had to laugh to keep from crying. The unending voice of proposed treachery, calling into doubt every conceivable way in which trust in his friends had not been PROVEN to be merited. Sneering, without respite, that this foolish trust was what got him arrested in the first place. At the end of the day, Inoadar wanted to cut his own throat for each time he'd suddenly become aware of the hate in his eyes, glaring at Verin's back, ready to push him to action. He needed a new focus, desperately. Burke and Vera were doing so well, with Verin's aid., that there was no great push needed to restock. He grit his teeth, moaning and shaking away the onset of the voice's predictable exposure of how only Verin truly benefited from the arrangement. Where was this coming from? He'd been overly cautious before. But nothing like this. He'd been put to the question before as well. But he'd never had cause to maintain such an extended span of suspicion. The voice immediately piped in that 'this is the very point. You SHOULD have been more suspicious...SHOULD have been more direct to eliminate the problem.' "NOOOOO!" he roared, slamming his head on the worktable, and pounding his fists. "LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" he shouted at the ceiling. There was no answer. That was a good thing. All too often there was. His head sagged and he heard the silence. The silence of Verin and Burke staring at him. "As your slave, it is not my place to question where you claim to have been these last several days..." Burke said stoically to Inoadar. "But as your property, you ought to take steps to ensure that I am not stricken down in some fit of madness." He then turned to Verin, "I am no slave to you, sir. Perhaps it would not be out of line for me to ask if you could give me some...tips...as to what...hypothetical...incidents I should take special care NOT to mention...For Vera's sake if nothing else." There was a pause, Inoadar looked up to see Verin looking a question toward him. He did not trust his own voice to stay steady, so he dropped his gaze and nodded.

[Verin Rush]

At a small distance from Parnell and the shop assistant Burke, stood Verin, head bend down, eyes cast over the work he was currently doing at a corner of one of the work surfaces in the lab. The young, budding poisoncrafter's features were set into ones of complete concentration as he watched his hands work with the plants on the table. If anyone asked, he was attempting to see if it was possible to combine various plants to strengthen or weaken certain poisonous properties. Yet, this look was only for the sake of appearances; despite the apparent concentration, Verin was actually doing nothing. He wasn't making a particular poison, or testing new ways to prepare plants... he wasn't even washing the specimens to avoid contamination for later use. If anything, he was actually wasting the resources available in Ino Vations.

But the blond did not stop fiddling, and the whole while he fought to keep his look of concentration so as to leave the others at ease. Truth be told, he felt slightly uncomfortable around the disaster that was waiting to happen. Master Parnell, since he had returned from the Black Hole, as Verin had assumed he had been, though he had not asked, was volatile. If Verin had felt any contempt for the man, he might have described him as fragile, but he would not insult his mentor so.

Although the owner of the facility had returned, Verin still felt an obligation to remain near the shop, when he could - whatever words he chose to describe the poisoner, Parnell was not the same man he had been, and he had some recovery to do. Burke was young and fit, but he was little more than a slave, and Vera was just a child... he couldn't leave them to cope with a situation they knew nothing about. Luckily, the Vantha woman had remained, and she currently had the apprentice-girl, which made Verin slightly more comfortable.

The bartender glanced up briefly as he heard yet another shout from his mentor, another call that was directed at seemingly no one in particular. He watched Parnell for a moment and then shared a glance with Burke before dropping his eyes back to the dying plants in front of him. His mind was so far away from the work of poisoncrafting that he couldn't even recall the plant's name.

Still, he did not glance up as the shop assistant began to speak to Parnell. He caught each and every word, however, and believed it to be a fair question... the answer had only been denied to Burke by Verin himself. But it had never been his call. As the conversation turned to be directed at Verin, he peeked up, through his pale hair, which had fallen partially over his face, to look at Parnell, who gave a defeated sigh and nodded in Verin's direction. A few ticks passed, maybe a chime, but Verin finally stopped his pretence of working with the plant. The hesitation was obvious by the time that he started speaking, “Your Master was arrested by the Ebonstryfe on the last day of the Spring season, Burke...”

Again, he paused, mulling the words over in his kind before he spoke them, carefully picking. “I am not aware of what charges they held him under,” (though he had a shrewd suspicion, and had not confronted the man about it, nor would he, for the time being). “Is that enough for you to imagine what conversational topics are not on today's agenda?”

OOCI was of half a mind to use some Hypnotism of Burke there, but was worried about Ino's reaction!

[Inoadar]

Even as Burke turned a shocked expression towards his "master", and started to approach with sympathy and promise of support, the voice warned of his "attack". "Stay Back!" Inoadar snarled. in hiss as genuine as a snake's. "You're BOTH in on it!" He stepped around the table for protection. "You think you can trust each other any more than I can trust you?" 'Yessss....turn them against each other!' the voice crowed triumphantly, encouraging the planting of dissent in his enemies. 'It is your best defense against greater numbers. Either that or lure one close, and kill him quickly.' Inoadar reached for a vial, his sleeve caught and his forearm was exposed, revealing the remains of the discolored, swollen marks left by the snake bite a season and a half ago. The snake bite Verin had been tremendously helpful in helping him deal with. He stared at the scar, his paranoid resolve wavering. 'NO! pay no attention to that! For all you know he brought you to that spot just so you would be bitten! And having failed to kill you there, he had you arrested. How can you be so blind to his treachery? Kill him! Kill him NOW!' the voice shrieked in desperate defensive madness. The scar now embodied the focus of the furious argument raging in the poisoner's mind, and he shouted at it, as if it was the face the voice in his head. "That's insane! Who could train a snake to lie in wait for an ambush? And why not invent a more likely crime than creation of a giant fish? Why not just accuse me of treason? After the riot at the weapon display, he could have used THAT! It would have made much more sense! That's what I would have done!" There was a very remote area of his brain registering some sort of exchange between Verin and Burke, something about who was talking...talking to who...someone telling the other to hush and listen... But the voice drowned it out again. 'You know as well as I that an outlandish story is believable for its very foolishness...the no one would invent such a story! And the rabbit...How very convenient, to gloss over the failure of the snake bite to kill you. Kill him, I say...he and your slave both!' "He's NOT my slave! I would not HAVE a slave! They make you weak." Inoadar roared at his arm, beads of sweat shaking free with the exertion. 'And you ARE weak! Too weak to see what they have done to you. Scheming and conspiring...You said yourself there was no one blatant crime for which you were arrested. Not like when they first arrested Burke...Yes...Burke and the Warden...Now perhaps you see why he was given back to you! Surveillance...he sells out to agree to play a part in your betrayal...so very convenient that Marcus allows you to have him back so soon after your conversion...Wouldn't they want you to prove yourself first?' "Getting him back was MY idea! No one else'! To protect Vera! To give her respite from having to guard the shop. She's just a little girl!" Inoadar's defensiveness suddenly surged aggressive, just daring the voice to speak ill of his young protege. For a moment, there was no response. At the same time Inoadar felt relief that no sneering comment was forthcoming, he found it disturbingly curious. "Well?...Why do you hold back? Aren't you going to accuse HER as well? Is she the mastermind behind all this?" Almost as if coming up for air, the voice grasped for another accusation. 'No, but what of the thieves that motivated you to retrieve your faithless slave? Who put THEM up to their deed? Did it not bring this all about?' "Madness!" Inoadar spat, turning away angrily from his own arm, only to spin back in incredulous fury. "You would have me believe the entire CITY conspires against me? This is absurd!" 'And why not? Did you not conspire against IT at the beginning?' the voice taunted, gripping Inoadar's most deep seated guilt in recriminatory teeth. 'Killing loyal soldiers...turning citizens against each other, to your own ends...building your..."faction"...' the voice seemed to hiss contempt into the word, '...for no benefit but your OWN!...TRAITOR! "AND I HAVE PAID!" he wailed, "I HAVE REPENTED MY ACTS! I AM LOYAL TO RHYSOL! YOU KNOW IT IS SO!" The voice sneaked back in quietly, like a dagger, "...not enough...never enough...maybe you no longer work in direct opposition...but what more do you do beyond what you have already done? You create...but only to your own pocket...you must do more...' Such relief flooded Inoadar, to hear anything speaking of an actual way to prove loyalty...his own...but more important, the sense that any who aided him would gain respite from the voice's accusations of treachery...Verin...Burke...Vanari. His arm relaxed to thump on the table, quivering slightly. He looked up, tears in his eyes, desperation in the set of his face. "Please...Verin...Burke...help me...help me find a way...to....help the city...to...spare me...the..." he knew by looking at them that they would not believe in some nonsense about a voice tormenting him. He hung his head, almost whispering, "I'm sorry...I need to...prove myself...my loyalty."

[Verin Rush]

Verin continued to fiddle with the ingredients in front of himself, crushing the roots on the table into a pasty mush. He was pretty sure that, to make anything with these particular roots, he needed to chop them into fine cuttings, rather than crush them. He might have even rendered them useless now, but he continued crushing, watching the sap from inside weld with the harder outside.

He did not stop, feeling like he needed an acceptable reason to be in the poison shop, other than that he just wanted to keep an eye on his out-of-sorts mentor. It was not in Verin'h mpnature to appear overly concerned, though he imagined that Burke new the true reason as to why he was present, but the shop-assistant hardly mattered he doubted that Parnell had the sense of mind to have grasped why Verin was really there, and that was what mattered. Picking up a small bowl, he placed the crushed roots inside.

He was saved from having to come up with something to do next, however, when he heard the poisoner shout out once again. The utterance was, this time, aimed at the two people in the room, and Verin opened his mouth to retort, “I-” but the man had continued to talk, cutting the blond off from trying to talk reason into him. Then, it became clear that there was no clarity in the poisoncrafter's mind, as he continued to shout inconsistent ramblings. For the first time, it became clear how far gone Master Parnell was. And Verin had no idea how to bring him back.

At a loss for what to do or say, Verin turned back to the mushy roots in the small bowl. Grabbing another implement, he continued to crush the roots even more, though there was still no real purpose to his endeavours. He pulled it towards the burner, but didn't turn it on, as Parnell's shouts grew more fervent, and he became more volatile. Taking a step away for the table, Verin, trying to remain calm, and keep the appearance of calm, raised his hands in the air and glanced at Burke. “Master Parnell...”

But the man had fallen silent, and there was no response for a few chimes, or maybe it was just ticks, Verin couldn't be sure. But then, the poisoncrafter spoke, and asked his slave and his... friend, to help him. Both were silent for a few moments, as they couldn't think of anything to say that might help. But finally, Verin had an idea. With the Fish crisis, Ravok had not been eating as well as they normally might. The citizens' food sources had been limited, and there had been the sudden emergence of a "supplement". Verin had - foolishly - paid to buy some. He had only needed one taste to know that it was not something he would ever buy again.

And he had some still with him. “Actually, there was something I thought we could look into, I need your expertise though...” Verin was clutching at straws, trying desperately to think of something that might help him to help Nolan. The fish paste was... he didn't even know, it was most likely nothing, but... it was something to keep the man busy. He pulled out what was left of the paste (which was almost all of it) and placed it onto the surface. “This new... fish paste. Have you heard of it? It's... Definitely not fish... I'm sure of it.”

[Inoadar]

Inoadar was sunk in a haze of gloom. He only half registered Verin's remark about his expertise, and his rolling eyes would have been visible to both his friend and semi-slave if his head hadn't been hanging in self-loathing. They may have heard his snort of scorn at the notion of his having ability in anything right then. He felt utterly worthless, despite the sense that there may be some way to regain his purpose. Right then, it might as well have been on some other world. But Verin's next comment burst into Inoadar's Stygian consciousness as a blazing crystalline doorway INTO that world. All it took was recognition of the word "fish" and the tone of doubt in his friend's voice. He looked up, reborn in purpose and self-esteem. The intensity of his voice excluded all existence but the room where he stood, with Verin and Burke. "What did you say?" It pained him to see the defensive nature of the looks the two others shared, no doubt expecting him to launch into another manic tirade of accusations. He waved them down with an eager nod and excited smile. "No, no, it's okay...Did you say 'fish paste'?...And it's 'definitely not fish'?...Let me see that." He came back around the table, gripping the jar of grayish paste as if it was life itself. The voice was not forgotten, but it's intent was now gratefully understood. This was the whole point of The Warden's relentless focus on the fish. This substance was phony, he knew it just by looking at it. His mission was to determine the exact nature of the scam it represented. The people of Ravok were counting on him to expose the truth! The Warden's incessant repetition of the alleged connection to the fish was not an actual accusation after all! But it HAD served to bring all of Inoadar's analytical capabilities to bear on the problem. He had put his mind to every concept of how this fish might have been created, as he'd sat in the subject's chair, being put to the question. At the time it was only to come up with rational explanations of how it could be established that he and his partners at the NMSS had had nothing to do with the appearance of the monster. It hadn't appeared to have been of any use then. But now.... Inoadar's eyes narrowed as steps of breakdown and testing lined up for instruction. "Burke, go get five of the small dishes from the "neutral" box. Verin, cut this stuff into six equal parts. If we can't determine what this crap is in six tries, we've got no business calling ourselves researchers." He went to a different cabinet and pulled open a drawer, giving access to small vials of powders and liquids. He started to count off on his fingers, as he pointed at different items. Then he gave one short, sharp laugh, shrugged and pulled the entire drawer out, carrying it to the work table. "Okay, we'll have six "control" samples. Now, I have to admit, I can't place exactly what seems wrong about this stuff. So the first thing we need to do, since we're sure it's NOT fish, is to get some REAL fish, for comparisons, as a "counter control" sample. I know fish is getting pricey these days, but it's still available." He pulled a different drawer, and keyed a lock, exposing the cashbox. He felt a sting of shame as he saw that none had been stolen. He had felt the voice preparing to point the figurative finger at Verin. He pulled out five gold mizas and handed them to Burke. "If you can't get a couple Speckled Trout or Yellowed Pike for that, Just beat the bastard and take them." Burke gave a soft chuckle and went to leave for the market. Inoadar paused for a moment, then called to him. As Burke turned, Inoadar also called to Verin. When he had the attention of both, he cleared his throat, having difficulty meeting their eyes. "My friends...I...don't know exactly what is...going on in my head...I can't promise that it won't keep coming back. It started again just now when I opened the cash drawer. I found myself. actually...wanting...the money to be gone...so I could...accuse you both. All I can promise is that I feel sick with shame over it...and I'm going to wear this key on a chain around my petching neck to remind me!"

[Verin Rush]

A transformation suddenly occurred within the poisoner; for a moment he returned to become himself, and Verin was more than pleased that his quick thinking had led to such a result. For a tick or so, he was frightened that all of it would come to nought, when his rushed decision in inventing a random escapade, would return Parnell to an even worse situation than he had been in before. Verin couldn't watch the poison shop forever - he had his own life to lead, even if it currently wasn't a very exciting one. But he couldn't leave the title apprentice-girl alone with a man as volatile as Parnell.

“A fish... paste if some form,” he repeated quickly, deciding to latch on to one of the only things that had returned the poisoncrafter to his previous state. “With the loss of fish from Lake Ravok, and the rising prices, some man started marketing a 'supplement'. But I can attest to the fact that it tastes nothing like the original.” As the other rounded the table towards him, Verin pushed it along the work surface for him to have a look at.

And, within a few ticks, the poisoncrafter ordered Burke to fetch six unused plates, which were quickly placed in front of Verin. The blond then picked up the closest implement to him, which happened to be a blunt spatula-type thing, and used it to scrape the grey contents of the fish paste out if it's container and separated it into even sixths on each of the plates. It was easily separated, not like a normal fish would be, which supported his theories about the odd taste. Maybe he had actually come up with a good enough idea to keep Nolan busy for a period.

Master Parnell ordered Burke to head out to find somewhere that would be selling some real fish. Before the young assistant left, Verin added, “You're more likely to find trout or something at a market stall. Taverns and inns are not getting in the stock they... we... used to.” Pale blue eyes darted between the two; he wasn't sure if he had ever come clean to Parnell about his common work, though he knew he had never told Burke. Verin's gait, appearance and etiquette left strangers to assume that he was a skilled worker, at worst. Few guessed correctly what he's true job was... because no one could call it a career.

Clearing his throat, Verin turned back to the dishes in front of him and arranged them into a neat line. “This stuff has been around for a few days now. Whatever it is... it must be safe and edible. No one has died from it, to my knowledge, so the base of the supplement must be something naturally grown, maybe something that we already consume.” He watched the shop assistant begin to leave Ino Vations as he spoke, but Parnell called him back, and gestured to Verin, before explaining his behaviour.

Burke said nothing, but nodded and left through in search of the very elusive fish. Hopefully he wouldn't be too long. When the sound of the door closing signalled Burke's leaving, Verin spoke. “When I first turned up, I think Burke suspected me of some plot to take over the shop. I hope one day I can convince you both that I have never had any such intention. My only aim is to ensure that you lose no revenue from your... situation.”

OOC200th post just for you!

[Inoadar]

Inoadar responded in a largely distracted tone as he studied the small glass dishes before him, his chin cupped in his hand, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Hmmm?...Oh..yeah...Burke was set up for arrest...uh...some time ago...It was so the Black Sun could...uh...place their agent here...I only just recently, uh...purchased him back...it's not surprising...really....that he'd be suspicious." He actually looked up to give a friendly smile to his blond associate at the mention of his situation and the threat to his revenue. "I believe you Verin. I want you to know that. Because I still feel this...urgency...to preempt treachery by trying to find it...everywhere...before it can strike. Right now, this procedure puts it from my mind...But I have no doubt I will...continue to be...distrustful to varying degrees for a while yet. I hope by saying this to you now, I can give a sort of...advanced apology...for anything I may yet do or say." The three men exchanged a number of meaningful glances, with nods and smiles serving better than words. But it was time to focus on the task at hand. Inoadar started issuing instructions, giving Verin assignments of a less complex nature, while giving Burke simple mixing and measuring tasks. Inoadar himself proceeded with some of the more high-level breakdowns of second stage elements. He'd developed the ability to enhance the latent effects of some toxin combinations, reducing, heightening or even altering them to accomplish unexpected results. He knew that the first stage impacts on the body's systems often set the stage for follow-up reactions that a body would not otherwise be vulnerable to. It was this concept HE was playing to. He was fully confident in Verin's ability to do the usual test and control comparisons from routine applications of reagents and enzymes, introducing catalysts into the fish paste supplement to accelerate or inhibit metabolic effects which would then be passed to Inoadar for more in-depth experimentation. He was already even blending inert catalysts just to achieve second-stage-ready compounds in anticipation of the results from Verin's work. The only disappointment came from there being nothing out of the ordinary IN those results. Still, he proceeded with the regular follow-up procedures, hoping some anomaly would occur.

[Verin Rush]

It was uncomfortable, Verin thought, to watch and listen to his mentor speak and act in such a manner. All he could do, in response to Parnell's explanation for his behaviour, was nod and say, “I understand.” But he didn't understand, he didn't understand at all. It wasn't that he didn't care - he did, more than he thought he would. He appreciated that the man was suffering, or had suffered greatly, and the effects were still presenting themselves.

But he could not begin to imagine what his teacher had gone through, to take such a strong man (a man whom he had watched calmly remove a poisonous serpent from his arm and cope with ease) into an untrusting wretch. Glancing down, Verin glimpsed the place where a little finger, and the tip of the next, should be. Verin, in his childhood, had experienced pain, plenty of it, but his father could not shatter the wills of either of his sons, though he tried to break their bodies. Because of this, he knew that there had to be more to Master Parnell's suffering than just physical agony.

“I understand, do not apologise to me,” he said again, attempting a weak smile. He continued to fiddle with the fish supplement as the pair waited for Burke in agonising silence, until he finally returned only a few chimes later. Then, Parnell started handing out orders to the less experienced pair. Verin's first task was a simple one - a simple preparation of solutions from the measurements that Burke was handing him, which would then be used, he imagined, to test for components in the fish supplement, and see if the results yielded matched with those from the true fish, which Burke had returned with, though there were only four fish that the assistant could buy.

The blond was grateful for the simpler task, as it have him ample time to watch Master Parnell perform his own work. That was how the pair had first met, after all, with Verin seeking lessons in the fine art of poison making. He could continue to learn and home his own skills whilst still being of assistance to the poisoncrafter, and watching him as he felt he should in such a fragile state.

Exchanging the palette he had previously used to cut the supplement (to, of course, avoid contaminating the controls), Verin selected a sharper knife to remove the heads from each of the four speckled trout that Burke had been able to source. He then cut three of the fish into halves, leaving them six controls... and a spare, just in case, "Or dinner for two..." placing them onto plates also he looked up, signalling that he was ready to begin adding solutions. “From the taste of the paste, I suspect a wheat of some for has been ground to create the supplement. Possibly some meat...”

[Inoadar]

The poisoner turned to look at his associate, his eyes narrowing, but in appraisal, not suspicion. "Wheat? So some sort of bread addition. Probably some meat? So you're not sure?" He reached over to take pinch in his fingertips, those not missing at any rate. He swirled the glob momentarily in his mouth before making a face. "I see what you mean...not fish, not necessarily meat at all." He spat it out. He stepped away and turned to both his partners in this effort. "We need to consider, though, that this is stated plainly to be a fish "supplement". So, by definition, it is intended to complete the role of fish. Now, the timing of its release suggests to me that, rather than filling in something missing from our usual fish diet here, it is meant to replace what we're MISSING from the recent LACK of fish, due to the monster in the lake. This says to me that what we have here IS supposed to be the equivalent of fish." Inoadar picked up a few vials, handing one of them to Verin, "This is an enzyme catalyst, a digestive aid, really. I want you drip a drop or two on both the true fish and on a bit of the paste. It should break down the structure of the matter, like an acid, without actually burning it. It will just sort of slide apart, it will give us an idea of whether there is bread or meat in that paste." For himself, Inoadar applied more creative situations for his tests. He clamped a section of fish in the chamber, and subjected it to a toxin that weakened muscles. The results were as expected, the fish did not hold up against much stretching pressure. He added an enzyme to the spot where it began to split, finding that the splitting held up now and the flesh split in a different spot. He took a bit of the paste and rolled it out flat, brushing a minute layer of an adhering reagent and waiting for a minute as he looked over at Verin. The man looked perplexed and shook his head in confusion. Inoadar asked him what was wrong, but saw the source of his partner's confusion before the young man could answer. The doughy paste was not breaking down. It was not even thinning. He knew he had a minute before the reagent would fully bind the paste, so he came around to Verin's side of the table with a skewer, picking and prodding at the mass. "Well, this is curious..." he observed dully, "I was going to apply this grain binding to restructure it, to see if the enzyme would break it down as easily...I was also going to see if the binding would prevent structural tearing under actual pressure. But this...this should not be happening..." He went back to his test and found the same result. The fish reacted as expected, but the paste resisted. He tried some catalysts that were chemically attuned to grain-based substances, but the paste resisted even those. He put Verin up to several other similar tests; tests involving dyes and reagents to cause the flesh to swell or shrink, the dye charting the exact path of reactions through the sample. Some to crush the fluids from it and promote or prevent it from being reabsorbed. Then, an addition to cause it to expel the reabsorbed fluid. Inoadar could not deny his intrigue. But neither could he deny his confusion. After several bells of combined end compounded experimentation, there had only been one consistent conclusion: The true fish responded to every test exactly as anticipated, but the paste resisted the reactions with almost the same degree of consistency. But this served to emphasize the adage that the researcher's greatest piece of equipment is the notebook. Those little inconsistencies were noted and considered...and studied...and discussed...and tested for confirmation...and confirmed...and considered further...and noted...and cross-referenced...and evaluated... They meant something...but what?

[Verin Rush]

Uncertain, the blond nodded at the poisoncrafter's comments with regards to the contents of the fish paste. He was a bartender, not a cook... he did not even serve the food, let alone prepare it, so he could not definitively say that he knew what was actually in the various dishes. His only guide at the moment was his nose, or his tongue, until they could yield proper results from the tests they would be doing. “It very possibly isn't meat, you're right. But I didn't want to rule anything out until we did the tests.”

He pushed the twelve plates, six dishes of the supplement and six halves of real fish, so that they were split into pairs, evenly spread around the work surface. “By definition, this product should supplement what we citizens have lost to the monster. It's not fish but it's supposed to give us what fish does... and it tastes nothing like even the foulest meals I've had. It makes me wonder what else is missing.” Verin was rambling, thinking on his feet, desperate to keep the experiment going in the hopes of retaining the sane poisoner that was now standing in front of him.

The less experienced poisoncrafter accepted the smaller vial from his mentor and listened carefully to his instructions of how to use it. It was relatively simple, routine thing he was being asked to do, something anyone with half a mind was more than capable of handling. It didn't take him long to find a small dropper, which he inserted into the liquid swilling around in the vial. Squeezing the top, he watched as the liquid filled the dropper. “Do you want this on all of them... or just one of each?” When he received his answer, he would comply with the instructions.

Once done, he waited, watching the fish paste in particular, but both were in his eye line. He waited, and the meat of the fish began to slip apart in obvious sections. It was a waste, Verin thought, to lose three trout to this, and he could feel the saliva building up in his mouth at the thought of the taste of one of his favourite dishes. But, as the fish began to split, nothing happened to the paste, which remained as congealed and foul as ever. When Master Parnell asked what was wrong, Verin looked up, but said nothing. He looked back down, making clear what was wrong.

The frown that had started to form on Verin's brow furrowed deeper as he listened to his mentor's words, displaying his own confusion. Soon, the pair set to new tasks, and Verin began to add more catalysts to the paste and the fish, keen to see if anything might react. The results of each test Verin ran showed the same results: the true fish reacted as it should, but the paste, if it did react, was unpredictable, and markedly different.

At a loss, he turned to the more experienced poisoner, “The paste is not fish.... and I feel as though it isn't even natural. Another form of meat, or even corn hewn from a field, they would have shown something, reacted in some way... but what is in it that is stopping any catalysts from doing their purpose...” the young blond trailed off from his thought, as he fiddled with the empty vials in front of him. For the first time since the elder of the Rush twins mentioned this... project, he was truly interested.