Timestamp 82 Winter 509AV
The sun that morning was an eerie blood red as it broke the thin surface of the horizon. Devandre had just fallen into a social trap. He had never been one to work with a team after what had happened in his past. He was seriously contemplated not returning to the strange castle. Being very wary of the entire setup knowing that supernatural forces were at work. Wizards and Witches always seemed to scare Devandre the idea that someone could use magic to bend physical law didn’t sit well.
All of this however did not stop Devandre from doing what he had set out to the Wildlands to do. He had already gathered flowers he needed to make a very weak tincture that will blind and cause pain to anyone who gets it in their eyes or open wound. After he found a clearing he took the flowers and placed them into a bottle of very strong spirits. Using the staff of an arrow to crush and squeeze the juices from the flowers, helping the spirit to quickly dissolve the chemical hidden in the dead petals. The bottle could only hold approximately ten doses of the liquid.
Devandre was in luck as he finds a plant that a book called a Whinnis. Having removed one of his gauntlets and replacing it with a leather glove he began to dig around and look for the most useful part, the roots. Blue in color they contain the toxins. Having uncovered some of the root he pulled on it to remove the plant from the ground. Shaking and brushing some of the dirt off he puts his collection of root into a pouch, his eyes looked around and found another particularly useful plant. Bump root, the plant under went similar care as he managed to only harvest a third of what he could have been harvested if he had pulled gentler.
Devandre took his collection and found a stream near by using it to rinse the roots clean of the soil. Sitting down he took some of the roots and placed them in a small mortar. Using the pestle to, grind the blue and yellow roots together creating a paste like substance. After several minutes mashing and mixing, he moved the paste out of the mortar and divided it into two vials. Adding to the vials some tincture to help thin the paste into a slightly teal liquid. Corking both vials and placed them away somewhere on his person for ease of retrieval. Devandre crafted this toxic mixture with no intentions of killing anyone or cause serious damage.
The remainder of the roots was put away for future use. The tincture however remained out along with his dagger and arrows. The tincture was dripped onto the arrow tips before being set down to dry in the sun. Once the arrows dried of the poison the process was repeated over again. After three coats a thin film of crystallized poison coat the tips ready to inflict pain, damage, and cause a mess when needed. Devandre suspected however that he would be using his dagger and brain more then the arrows within the walls of the castle if he chooses to show up. Among the arrows were smaller dart looking arrows meant for a new toy, which he had bought himself. A spring blade that had been built into one of his gauntlets, loaded with one of the darts. He had been practicing aiming earlier that week and decided to practice a bit more but adding a bit of blade practice in as well.