10th day of Summer, 509 AV
Irriari walked through the grasses slowly and admired the faint spots of brown on the weeds and foliage as she passed them. Stains such as these sang to her heart. They were blood stains, and based on the amount of blood and the location on the grass, Irriari knew that whatever was had left this much blood was very close by and most likely dead. She reached down and plucked one of the blades of grass and licked it. The blood was from a large cat, or perhaps a wild dog. She couldn't tell the difference, but it definitely wasn't a human. Irriari quickly lost interest after this revelation and chastised herself for not focusing on what she had came her for- poison reagents. She knew so little about poison, and her slaves were beyond tired of begging every trader they saw for new books and bottles to add to her library and kit. The traders could have not sold such wares, as they proclaimed, or they could have simply been cautious to sell the books to those affiliated with the Zith. Whatever the reason, Irriari was sick of the damp caverns and predictable fungi that grew within them. There was little the imposing sky less caverns had to offer her anymore, besides companionship and safety.
She planned to stay for two days, carefully ingesting, and testing various plants that were known to her and her race in the Sea of Grass. Maybe she should have grabbed the wild animal. Hunger was already paining her, but she could not eat for the next two days. She grimaced as her stomach reminded her of the difficulties she would face. Hunger was nothing but weakness, and she have to keep going, for the sake of training.
After a few chimes of slowly examining every leaf, grass, weed and piece of foliage her eyes could take in, Irriari finally spotted it- a plant known to her people as 'Hasale'ith'savanht'. There was no word for the plant in Common, as far as she knew, but many warriors had cautioned her about the dangers of it. Irriari dug a deep holes next to the plant, on the four sides surrounding it to be completely sure that the roots system was localized to a small area, so that she could gather the entire plant. Irriari then proceeded to join the holes together, leaving the Hasale'ith'savanht plant on it's own dirt island of sorts, isolated from all the other grasses, connected only to the loamy soil below it.
Irriari stared at the rare plant then, and took in every detail of it that she could. The leaves were a simple textured mint green on the top, but underneath the oblong, toothed leaf was a deep burgundy color, like a fine ripe wine, though Irriari had only seen pictures of the fabled drink. The stem was hardy, as nearly every life form was on the plains, though unlike many of the other plants, this one did not seek to grow above all the grasses adjacent to it. Though Irriari had seen no more than four Hasale'ith'savanht, they all seemed stunted at the same short height, regardless of their location or proximity to other plants. The root system however, was quite deep and had a large bulb growing at the bottom. It was a common insult among Zith children, to call other weaker members of the colony, fat and short, like a Hasale'ith'savanht. Though the bulb was not poisonous, Irriari intended to collect the whole plant for future study, if she could determine how to dry such a thing when the caverns were so damp. After a few minutes of clawing the dirt, Irriari finally extracted the plant and laid it on the ground next to her.
In some ways, the plant was similar to her whole race. Alone and isolated, yet still a threat, and with roots that were a pain to dig out. If the other races did ever kill her species at the base, would their efforts be useless, like the bulb of the plant? Most likely. The humans and all the other races shunned and feared her kind because of the blood shed and slaughter the Zith had brought to the land. To her, there was nothing hidden about her race, nothing so sneaky like the devious whispered plans of the humans. Everything one needed to know was on the surface, open for view and scrutiny. She hated them for their indirect spineless ways, loathed them for ther insistance on stamping out all that was unknown. If they could not eliminate an undesirable, they would isolate it, in hopes that it would die on its own. She refused to be weeded out, or caught up in their schemes. Irriari vowed that she would not become like the Hasale'ith'savanht, she would not be a toy for the humans, ripe for the picking.
Irriari walked through the grasses slowly and admired the faint spots of brown on the weeds and foliage as she passed them. Stains such as these sang to her heart. They were blood stains, and based on the amount of blood and the location on the grass, Irriari knew that whatever was had left this much blood was very close by and most likely dead. She reached down and plucked one of the blades of grass and licked it. The blood was from a large cat, or perhaps a wild dog. She couldn't tell the difference, but it definitely wasn't a human. Irriari quickly lost interest after this revelation and chastised herself for not focusing on what she had came her for- poison reagents. She knew so little about poison, and her slaves were beyond tired of begging every trader they saw for new books and bottles to add to her library and kit. The traders could have not sold such wares, as they proclaimed, or they could have simply been cautious to sell the books to those affiliated with the Zith. Whatever the reason, Irriari was sick of the damp caverns and predictable fungi that grew within them. There was little the imposing sky less caverns had to offer her anymore, besides companionship and safety.
She planned to stay for two days, carefully ingesting, and testing various plants that were known to her and her race in the Sea of Grass. Maybe she should have grabbed the wild animal. Hunger was already paining her, but she could not eat for the next two days. She grimaced as her stomach reminded her of the difficulties she would face. Hunger was nothing but weakness, and she have to keep going, for the sake of training.
After a few chimes of slowly examining every leaf, grass, weed and piece of foliage her eyes could take in, Irriari finally spotted it- a plant known to her people as 'Hasale'ith'savanht'. There was no word for the plant in Common, as far as she knew, but many warriors had cautioned her about the dangers of it. Irriari dug a deep holes next to the plant, on the four sides surrounding it to be completely sure that the roots system was localized to a small area, so that she could gather the entire plant. Irriari then proceeded to join the holes together, leaving the Hasale'ith'savanht plant on it's own dirt island of sorts, isolated from all the other grasses, connected only to the loamy soil below it.
Irriari stared at the rare plant then, and took in every detail of it that she could. The leaves were a simple textured mint green on the top, but underneath the oblong, toothed leaf was a deep burgundy color, like a fine ripe wine, though Irriari had only seen pictures of the fabled drink. The stem was hardy, as nearly every life form was on the plains, though unlike many of the other plants, this one did not seek to grow above all the grasses adjacent to it. Though Irriari had seen no more than four Hasale'ith'savanht, they all seemed stunted at the same short height, regardless of their location or proximity to other plants. The root system however, was quite deep and had a large bulb growing at the bottom. It was a common insult among Zith children, to call other weaker members of the colony, fat and short, like a Hasale'ith'savanht. Though the bulb was not poisonous, Irriari intended to collect the whole plant for future study, if she could determine how to dry such a thing when the caverns were so damp. After a few minutes of clawing the dirt, Irriari finally extracted the plant and laid it on the ground next to her.
In some ways, the plant was similar to her whole race. Alone and isolated, yet still a threat, and with roots that were a pain to dig out. If the other races did ever kill her species at the base, would their efforts be useless, like the bulb of the plant? Most likely. The humans and all the other races shunned and feared her kind because of the blood shed and slaughter the Zith had brought to the land. To her, there was nothing hidden about her race, nothing so sneaky like the devious whispered plans of the humans. Everything one needed to know was on the surface, open for view and scrutiny. She hated them for their indirect spineless ways, loathed them for ther insistance on stamping out all that was unknown. If they could not eliminate an undesirable, they would isolate it, in hopes that it would die on its own. She refused to be weeded out, or caught up in their schemes. Irriari vowed that she would not become like the Hasale'ith'savanht, she would not be a toy for the humans, ripe for the picking.
