One of his favourite parts of visiting Wujeeta was enjoying the multitude of otherworldly sights on offer. Born and raised in Dray’Mel, Skrakch was hardly familiar with life outside of the city walls, much less knowledgeable about horticulture in all its forms.
There was only so far book learning could take you. Living, smelling, involving all your senses in something tangible was an entirely different thing. Thus, the veritable jungle which Wujeeta painstakingly maintained, never failed to fascinate him.
Every inch of the Alchemist’s lab was covered in some kind of living thing. Whether it be the strange fungi that carpeted the floor, or the Mana-rich crops that grew in neat rows, or even the rare and valuable flowers that grew up the walls in intricate loops, there was always something to marvel at. To top it off, the entire laboratory roof was made of the finest glass, kept spotlessly clean to ensure that the natural sunlight was free to beam down upon the vegetation.
Carefully stepping through the dirt path that lead deeper into the lab, Skrakch couldn’t help but call out.
“By the Gods Below Wujeeta, you nearly burned my whiskers off with that explosion! I thought an Alchemist of your level never made mistakes?”
He moved aside a curtain of hanging, multi-coloured, vines with his paw and finally caught sight of the Alchemist herself.
While the jungle-like entrance to her lab was like a trip through a strange and true wilderness, Wujeeta’s actual experimental area was the complete opposite. Strange devices made out of metal cogs and gears whirred away, brass and surgical steel shining.
Glass tubes and beakers held curious smelling liquids, bubbling away, vapours slowly rising upwards or, in the case of one curious blue liquid, defying all gravity and flowing down like a great steam waterfall.
Wujeeta herself, was standing behind a steel counter. She looked no worse for wear after the loud explosion. In fact, the only sign of something gone awry was the black smudges on her scaled nostrils.
A rarity in Dray’Mel, Wujeeta was a member of the Ssah race. Their common name for those not in the know was ‘Lizardfolk’. Skrakch’s time in the library had taught him that the Ssah were descendents of both humans and dragons. It was easy to see why. As humanoid as her form was, there was no ignoring the emerald green scales that gleamed with Mana, or the two ornate scarlet horns that jutted from the top of her skull.
Lazily waving a clawed hand towards him in greeting, Wujeeta continued to stare down the lens of some strange looking lab instrument before quickly tasting the air with her tongue.
“Hah!” She said in her clipped tone. “You’d best believe that wasn’t me. It’s been quite a long time since one of my experiments caused such a small explosion,” She looked up from the lens, her yellow eyes narrowing. “No, I’m afraid I’ve been saddled with yet another apprentice.”
Feeling his ears perk up in excitement, Skrakch flopped atop a nearby stool before grinning widely.
“And here was me thinking the Adventurer’s Guild were done foisting unlucky pricks upon you,” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’d think they’d have learned their lesson by now. How many of them have died in this very lab? Six? Seven?”
“Pshaw,” Wujeeta rolled her yellow eyes expressively. “You know how desperate they are to have access to a cheaper Alchemist than me. They want the goods but at half the price. No, they’ll keep trying to force me to pass on my secrets no matter how many of them they lose in the process.” The Ssah scientist licked her lips before shooting a look over her shoulder. “Although I have to say…this one isn’t half-bad. For a Lordling anyways. The boy has deft fingers and a knack for measuring ingredients. In fact, I think I’d go so far as to say he’s half worthy of earning my knowledge,” She offered Skrakch a smile. “Reed!” She called out, snapping her clawed fingers, “Get the Hells out here.”
For a long moment, the only answer she received was a sudden clang of metal scraping against metal. A few seconds later, a small door to the back of the lab opened and a rather generic looking Human strolled out. His face was completely black with soot, his blue eyes looking rather piercing by comparison. Half of his blonde hair was a singed mess, the other half was sticking out on its ends.
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The only really remarkable thing about the young man was his height. The lanky figure looked down from above the both of them, Wujeeta's newest apprentice doing a remarkable job of looming above Skrakch.
“Ha, I can see why you named him Reed,” Skrakch laughed. The kid was certainly as tall and as lanky as one. The Iskrin sniffed the air to try and guess what the boy had been working on. He could detect the faintly sickly smell of Fly Agaric in the air, mixed with a more earthly smell that he couldn’t quite place. Still, Fly Agaric wasn’t known to be used in that many potions beyond those meant to prop up a dying man in his final moments. “An Elixir of the Final Stand,” Skrakch said.
Wujeeta let out a chuckle at this.
“As always, you’re a devilish creature Skrakch. If it weren’t for your criminal tendencies, you’d make a fine Alchemist’s assistant. But yes, Reed was the most obvious name for him. He should consider himself lucky. It was going to be Reek because Lord knows you can practically smell the gold on him. Thankfully, I’m nothing if not a merciful mentor. Isn’t that right?”
“Y…yes Miss Wujeeta,” Reed said with a nod towards his mistress. Skrakch couldn’t help but notice that the boy went bright red with embarrassment but continued to keep his head down, waiting for further instructions.
“Less proud than your usual fare as well eh?” The Ratling idly smoothed his furry chin as he looked the boy up and down. “Maybe they finally did find you a decent student, Wu.” If the famously prickly Ssah was trusting a Lordling with Fly Agaric and other costly ingredients, Reed was undoubtedly a diamond in the rough. Not that Wujeeta would be letting him know that any time soon.
“Well he’s certainly a quick learner. Somewhat reminiscent of a certain Vermin I found trying to rob me,” Wujeeta replied. “Speaking of, I’m surprised to see you back so soon Skrakch. Did you acquire more stolen reagents to sell me? I’m running low on Ghoul Saliva so if you’ve been dipping your toes into slumrunning again…”
“It’s the opposite actually Wu,” Skrakch said. Not wanting the boy to hear his plans, he glared at him with his fiercest expression. He had to give credit to the kid, who stood his ground until Wujeeta got the message and waved him away with an imperious wave of her hand. “I’m here to buy as much Placative Brew as you have in stock. I know it’s mostly reserved for the Guild…but I was hoping that you’d make an exception for one of your oldest friends,” Skrakch continued, puffing out his chest and slapping on his most wheedling expression.
“Oh?” Wujeeta turned her full attention to him, flicking her tongue out and tasting the air once more as she considered. “I can’t say I have much on hand. Possession tends to end ugly, brew or no brew. Shades aren’t partial to letting someone shove a potion bottle down their host’s gullet. No, the Guild much prefers to cut their losses these days. Everybody’s replaceable could be their new motto. Still… I’m intrigued as to why you’re so interested in such a brew and in bulk? The Hells are you up to?” She asked, locking her cold repitilian eyes on his.
Glancing behind the Alchemst to make sure that Reek, Reed, Rude… whatever, had returned to his potion brewing, the rogue Ratling leaned forward.
“Listen, it’s a favor for the Denmother,” He explained, whispering theatrically. “Long story short, one of her Succubi got herself possessed and naturally, she turned to yours truly for help. You know me Wu, I’m a loving and caring member of society. How could I ignore an old woman’s plight?”
Letting out a startlingly long hiss, Wujeeta jerked backwards as though she’d been stabbed by a hot poker.
“The Denmother?” she whispered harshly. “Gods Below be damned, you rotten little fool! I’ll give you what I have on hand and then I want you gone. And don’t you dare let her know where you got it from!”
The Ssah quickly hurried over to a locked cabinet lined with wooden shelves. She fumbled in her robes for the key and quickly snatched a few elixirs off the counter, sweeping them into a sack. She pulled the strings tight and thrust it at Skrakch.
“Take them,” She hissed. “For a normal possession one should be plenty…but for something that could take control of demon-spawn…I shudder to think. Just promise me that if the Placating Brew isn’t enough, you’ll cut your losses and run.”
Quickly slinging the sack over his shoulder, Skrakch nodded solemnly and couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment. Flashing his teeth in a ruthless smile, he was swift to reply.
“Come now Wu, when have you ever known me to let down a client? I’ll take care of it. One way or another,”
As he turned to make his way out of the lab, Skrakch allowed himself a mirthless chuckle. After all, the Denmother had asked him to free Survix from the Shade’s possession. She hadn’t said anything about making sure the Succubi actually survived the process.