Oozing With Charisma
Twenty-Sixth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC
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Denys wasn't particularly attached to that crystal decanter, anyway. Darkstar leaned over his shoulder, a look of pure fascination, mixed with not a little disgust writ over his fine-boned face. "Is that alive?" The puddle of ooze wasn't congealing on the alchemist's workbench, it was achieving
resonance with the crimson-colored crystal currently emitting a high pitched hum and suspended by a clever contraption of mithril and adamantine, multiple overgrowth spikes distending and receding in response to the reacting chemicals.
"Trick of the eye," Denys deflected, even as the Dornish knight yanked him away from the shifting prism of spikes currently puncturing several holes through the tin of reagents haphazardly left out in the open. "A really tricky eye," he continued, carefully backing away even further. The two items almost seemed to merge before half a human head spontaneously began to form from a
mixture of bloody vitae and a horrifyingly mesmerizing array of
crystal latticework. "Never mind, kill it with fire."
Gerold, eyes wide in terror, yanked the lever at the exit of the reinforced dwelling Denys had housed his borderline-forbidden experiments in, fey-craft sprayers pumping literal gallons of alchemist's fire into the room. They slammed the barred door, further reinforced with cold-rolled steel, shut behind them. The Dornishman rounded on his friend. "
Explain. Now!"
"...magic?" Denys offered. A horrifying whistle--no,
screaming, came from within the squat building.
Gerold backed up another dozen feet, his hand like a vice around the arm of the perpetually entranced alchemist, who was absently scribbling another several lines down on their pile of clipboard mounted notes. The knight fixed the man with a glare, soon as he was sure they weren't about to get impaled by the results of the researcher's 'professional curiosity', jabbing a finger into their chest. "No more wild magic experiments."
"No more wild magic experiments," Denys agreed absently, a loud groan and several secondary explosions signaling the tanks in the hut going off. The roof collapsed inwardly. "...silver lining, we don't have to move everything out, now." He smiled wanly, patting his satchel.
Gerold took that to mean the madman was finally finished, else he wouldn't have risked his final experiment upon that which neither of them truly comprehended. So brazenly, too. "It's finished then?"
"Yes," Denys tested the word uncertainly, "Yes!" He said more certain after Gerold's unimpressed glance. "Quite finished. Now we just have to present our findings to the King."
"Our?" Gerold said, dumbfounded.
"Well Mercy can hardly claim credit, helping me ward off curious fey and calming and reassuring townsfolk with their dashing good looks." Denys said lightly, "It would ruin her angelic image to truck with us daredevils." For a wonder Gerold couldn't comprehend how the man kept a straight face through it all. It was like a huge weight had shifted from the Crownlander's shoulders, watching the catalyzed essence of a month's work go up in smoke and only content because he had definitively extracted all of value from it before burning it down behind him, like a man clearing the slate and getting a fresh start.
"Arisen like a phoenix from ashes," Gerold said in exasperation. "Let's go back to the Keep and report to the Lord one last time."
Denys looked over his shoulder as they began to walk away, a thoughtful pursing of his lips leading the man to pause and
wonder. Gerold halted, having had the same thought.
"It's probably a good idea to make sure it's dead." Both men hadn't thought of that beforehand.
"Aye," Gerold replied, so very reluctantly, as they turned around to deal with the flames.
They really should have thought about that.
] Summon Alexander Harris from Xander Quest and have him challenge the Boar!