Darwin was staring at the gathered items in his cabinet. These were his precious reagents for Pnuema, all that he managed to gather for himself. A can of phosphor rat poison, a scant few herbs of sage and thyme. and the strange smelling drug that made his head roll when he sniffed it, and the candle wax he'd been practicing his formations with.

Out of all of these, he had to come up with something to accelerate his Pneumatic powers, elevate himself. Like the ancient wizards of old. Yet even as he tried to compare himself to such nobility of their genius. He was yet reminded that he was but a lowly cat. And likely ridden with mange after spending such close proximity to these lesser creatures.

It was clear that if he wanted to progress any farther, he would have to leave this, abode of filth and cat hair. If this was all he could accomplish here, then it was time to leave. Though he might come back if it meant being fed instead of scrounging about like a vagrant, anything was better than fighting some crazed beast for the scraps of food it guarded.

He hadn't forgotten about that white terror, he'd replay the beast for his savagery, just as soon as his magic returned in full force or greater. And that would come once he figured out how best to combine what he already had. Although, from his perspective, wringing any amount of power from these would be like getting blood from a stone. Yet hardship never bothered him, it was expected at this point.

The door to his cabinet domain crept open as the oily black from emerged and oozed across the floor, angling itself towards the door, eager to escape the confines of the surrounding walls and bodies. He found the door slightly ajar, odd but a welcome boon to be taken.

As he was about to leap to freedom and set out once more on his quest for power, to places where he could gather necessary strength, the herbs and medicines, places for learning. He doubted that a library would seek vengeance on a cat for browsing the wares, the text would necessary to finding things he'd forgotten. And he was sure he'd forgotten something.

And yes, of course, Slay the White Beast of the Butchers shop. Now that he had some magic, it would be child's play to snuff out it life with but a thought as it's helpless master watched him do it, Then all the sweet meats would be His and his a alone, vengeance would have its reward-

The door slammed shut in front of him as he felt a pair of familiarly fat fingers grasp his stomach.

"Now, now. little kitty, Outside is not for you, stay here with mother dear, stay with me a little longer won't you kitty?" The old woman crooned as he was hefted to her pudgy wrinkled face, blemished and cratered in wrinkles and useless flaps of skin discolored from age. Darwin retched and tried to squirm free, Damned woman; she had a grip like iron wrapped in velvet. How was an old crone this bloody strong? Her smothering insanity must empower her! He must break free or be trapped forever.

She cleared a spot on the ripped couch and scattered a small cloud of the useless animals around her, sitting down like boulder hitting the earth from a high drop. Only for the tide of small bodies to rush back in to cover the disturbance. Darwin was crushed the wave of pressing bodies, forcing him down into the tender grip the hags flesh. All while the sounds of mewing and laughter rang in his ears as she insisted in petting and calling to each of the disreputable cretins in order.

"Fransico you romantic, leave Tahnya alone you silly, Gregor come here my sour puss, let me stroke your lovely fur. Ohh, Timothy, Thomas, your silly twins! Give me a little kiss. And her comes Georgina, who's this lurking, why it must our little prince Valencio. Such a pretty kitty..."

And so, it went on for an hour at least, petting, stroking, calling and laughing. Always Laughing. The crone must have been mad, to be laughing at the imbecilic antics of such dullard animals. The instant he returned to his proper human form He would Eat every cat within the city, or have them exterminated, either would have suited him.

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He tried to slip away during the distraction afforded by the mad ogre womans clouded judgement, only for the strange turns of madness to catch up with him. "Oh, and there stalks Dorvin, dark shadow in the night, Come to Momma you little scamp."

Darwin cringed, he didn't know how she'd gotten so close to his true name, and yet so far from it. Dorvin? Dorvin, really that Peasants excuse for a proper name belonged out tilling a field in some ancient dirt mound alongside the bones of his ancestors, not pinned to his hide like a painted donkey.

And yet, no matter how fast he ran, he could never seem to escape the long arm of her, affections. Thus, would be stuck in the mire of her until she grew bored of stroking him and picking at his fur and switch to dealing one of her other little monsters.

He slunk back into his cabinet and returned to the task of magic. shaking off the distressing sensations of being buried alive in warm bodies.

The phosphor poison held some promise, but he would need heat to release its real power. The herbs, mere parsley and garlic skins really, touch of mustard seed he'd found. If ignited he might be able to affect something, cast some power. If he burned them with the Phosphorus, it might achieve some effect, or it would stink to high heaven more likely. Chewing the parsley might release some function of Pnuema, but chamomile was better for such things. The Other herb he'd gathered was, well he never paid that much attention to what kinds of plants animals preferred before now, but since it seemed to have the boldest effect on his mind out of all of them, it seemed to reason that it should have the best chance of awakening some kind of power within his body. But it was a method he hardly would have used; these plants extract only seemed to affect animals.

Pnuema empowered animals, maybe this is how the myth of taking animals began, Witches Familiars. The ancients truly were terrifying to possess such hidden wisdom, it would be an easy manner to spy or assassinate other wizards this way. Damn, if he'd presented this to the Brigade forces, they'd have paid him a king's ransom for a means of training animal spies.

Shame the old fools of the previous age had never seen fit to write anything down out of some fearful superstition or because of tragic betrayal leading to a sudden demise. That seemed to be a recurring theme in the old texts, Sudden and tragic betrayals. The glories of looking back through history learning from their wizened old tales and sneering at the foolishness of his ancestors who lived without the benefits of such records. The only thing he had in common with the ordinary men of this city. But then again, he doubted an ordinary man could've done half the things he'd accomplished in his life already.

He remained anything but ordinary however, awakening his own powers and surviving the blast. Thus, he could use any of the scattered enchanted utensils of the house. If there were any, this old woman still used a stove! The nerve, in this modern world of magic to stoop to lighting a fire by hand and nursing it to full flame. Unheard of! If she had bought the simple items, it would be fare easier trying to progress his abilities. Rather than doing it all by hand like a lowly alchemist apprentice.

Then again, he was hardly excused from the task, he was at least decently trained in the basics of the task.

Shaking his little furry head, he forced his thought to dwell in the present. Power, He needed more Power. And he wasn't getting it.

He had little means, The phosphor beckoned with its limited potential. Another Faulkes Crucible may be in order, but without the Mercury or salts it wouldn't be as potent. Especially given what happened when he didn't have the correct ingredients the last time.

There were some variables that could be adjusted, some room for adaptation. But he would have to be careful in his calculations, not slip ups like last time. He couldn't afford another setback like that again, especially seeing as it nearly cost his life the last time to earn even this much. Which, by its own right was a vast improvement, was nowhere near the necessary powers for his goals.

Once again, he had a Plan, or the beginnings of one. All he needed was something that mixed well with Phosphorus to release the energies he needed. What he needed was Copper.

Copper to capture it fiery powers and concentrate the Phosphagen, a potent but crude from of Pnuema that could serve as a heavily seasoned replacement. Infamous among the fireside Mystery cult of ancient Githra and Hothup before the time of true King Ot Handal. Darwin never thought he'd stoop to "kissing the Salamander." Half the reason it was abandoned, too many dead wizards.

But surely, with his knowledge and advanced intellect he would fare better than his ancient peers. He was vastly more prepared this time!