Post by Capsule on Apr 22, 2014 14:18:56 GMT
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∝:
623
♪ ♫♪:
I Remember
✏:
Finally getting around to this. @ @;
@:
Capsule
623
♪ ♫♪:
I Remember
✏:
Finally getting around to this. @ @;
@:
Capsule
"Are there really no new requests today?" Capsule was staring out her open window, where she expected a messenger pigeon or two to appear. The last few days had been slow; all her previous orders had been fulfilled, and her services would likely not be needed until after her customers had used up all of their potions. That was the nice part of Sarum and dungeon runs: people stocked up on health pots like candy, especially when they could not find a dedicated healer. But requesting in bulk also left her with little to do when it was all over, and she was taking a short break from questing right now.
A soft tapping noise near the roof of the room - where Duke often took advantage of the small hole there - alerted her to the owl. He had made something akin to a nest during his stay, which consisted of old feathers (his and that of smaller bird victims), bits of paper and twigs. The owl was struggling with what appeared to be a small roll of parchment. Capsule wasn't sure where he had gotten that from, and her curiosity demanded that she take it and open it. "Duke, give me that."
The owl fluttered down from his perch, dropping the roll of parchment onto the floor. Capsule seized it before he could swoop down and reclaim it, a small smirk on her face. "Too slow," she teased, and stopped. The parchment she unrolled bore a request for a singular potion, and was signed by a certain Caerbannog. Capsule had made a few potions for the girl a few days ago, but did not recall receiving this second request. "Duke!" Did he snipe this from one of the pigeons and hid it from her?! Damn that owl. Caer probably thought Capsule was ignoring her request by now. There was only one way to fix that, of course - she needed to make the potion and send it to Caer posthaste, with a written apology. Judging by the wear and tear of the letter, it had been written well over a week ago. 'Oh god…'
She had made a Potion of Nighteye only once, and that was during a crafting mission with Caer. It should be easier now, though, seeing as how she had some experience in making the potion. All she needed was… 'One base herb and two impure solvent,' she thought, eyes closed in concentration. Well, she wasn't lacking in either, that was for sure. "All right - let's do this. I'll deal with you later," she said, giving Duke a glare. The owl only hooted and drifted back up to his nest.
He settled down comfortably to watch as Capsule laid out her tools of the trade - the mortar and pestle she had acquired from Sarum, a chopping board, a single herb and two small flasks of impure solvent. The owl squinted as the woman took out something else that was entirely irrelevant - a small music that played a song (Aria of the Soul) foreign to the owl.
Capsule set to work by first chopping up the herb, using a smaller knife rather than her kukri for once. She was more likely to cut herself with Volkova's thirteen inch blade. That owl's behavior was just so unbelievable! How many other customers had he cheated her out of?! Even with the smaller knife, Capsule almost succeeded in nicking her fingers with the blade. Annoyance and anger had a way of disrupting concentration, but she managed to calm herself by focusing on her work and the soft music tinkling from her music player. Perhaps a written apology would not be enough. 'I hope a level twenty potion will suffice.'
A soft tapping noise near the roof of the room - where Duke often took advantage of the small hole there - alerted her to the owl. He had made something akin to a nest during his stay, which consisted of old feathers (his and that of smaller bird victims), bits of paper and twigs. The owl was struggling with what appeared to be a small roll of parchment. Capsule wasn't sure where he had gotten that from, and her curiosity demanded that she take it and open it. "Duke, give me that."
The owl fluttered down from his perch, dropping the roll of parchment onto the floor. Capsule seized it before he could swoop down and reclaim it, a small smirk on her face. "Too slow," she teased, and stopped. The parchment she unrolled bore a request for a singular potion, and was signed by a certain Caerbannog. Capsule had made a few potions for the girl a few days ago, but did not recall receiving this second request. "Duke!" Did he snipe this from one of the pigeons and hid it from her?! Damn that owl. Caer probably thought Capsule was ignoring her request by now. There was only one way to fix that, of course - she needed to make the potion and send it to Caer posthaste, with a written apology. Judging by the wear and tear of the letter, it had been written well over a week ago. 'Oh god…'
She had made a Potion of Nighteye only once, and that was during a crafting mission with Caer. It should be easier now, though, seeing as how she had some experience in making the potion. All she needed was… 'One base herb and two impure solvent,' she thought, eyes closed in concentration. Well, she wasn't lacking in either, that was for sure. "All right - let's do this. I'll deal with you later," she said, giving Duke a glare. The owl only hooted and drifted back up to his nest.
He settled down comfortably to watch as Capsule laid out her tools of the trade - the mortar and pestle she had acquired from Sarum, a chopping board, a single herb and two small flasks of impure solvent. The owl squinted as the woman took out something else that was entirely irrelevant - a small music that played a song (Aria of the Soul) foreign to the owl.
Capsule set to work by first chopping up the herb, using a smaller knife rather than her kukri for once. She was more likely to cut herself with Volkova's thirteen inch blade. That owl's behavior was just so unbelievable! How many other customers had he cheated her out of?! Even with the smaller knife, Capsule almost succeeded in nicking her fingers with the blade. Annoyance and anger had a way of disrupting concentration, but she managed to calm herself by focusing on her work and the soft music tinkling from her music player. Perhaps a written apology would not be enough. 'I hope a level twenty potion will suffice.'
coded by benetnasch of ET
