Pandora Unchained B1C62: The Apothecary

Hey Everyone! I'm back from a wonderful holiday feeling refreshed. There are 7 chapters this week, then we're back down to 5 per week.

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The following day, Sorin headed out to Sanderson's Leather Outfitting to retrieve his leather armor. The shop was empty save for the sole employee and proprietor of the shop, Mr. Sanderson, who dusted off his large but nimble hands as he walked out to greet him.

"An early riser, I see," said Mr. Sanderson. "Not like those good-for-nothing rich folk I'm used to dealing with. I take it you're here for your armor?"

"Lawrence said it would be ready by today," said Sorin. "I hope I'm not too early?"

"I have a habit of finishing things up the day before," said Mr. Sanderson. He reached beneath the counter to retrieve a footlong square package. "I'll trouble you to slip this beauty on so I can make the final adjustments."

Sorin went to the back dressing room and donned the armor. It was incredible to the touch, and he felt an intimate connection to the armor the instant his skin made contact. Is it because it's been drinking my blood? thought Sorin as he tightened the belt straps until they were comfortably snug.

"Fits you like a glove, right?" said Mr. Sanderson as Sorin walked out. "But the legs are off. You're best off tightening them a little more." He bent down and yanked at the leather straps until the leggings felt uncomfortably tight.

"This feels… not right," said Sorin, bending down. To his surprise, however, the armor flexed along with him. "This is… this is nice. I might as well be wearing long underwear."

"The armor has a lot of flex to it," nodded Mr. Sanderson. "Actually, your arms could use tightening as well." He tightened the six straps in turn, then allowed Sorin to familiarize himself with the armor by swinging around his dagger. "Remember that feeling whenever you put it on. And don't forget to feed the thing a pint of blood every week when you're not out adventuring and getting hurt."

Sorin had no issues with this, as a pint of blood wasn't much for a blood-thickening cultivator. "Do you have any other advice for me? Maintenance routines I should perform?"

"There's no maintenance to speak of for blood drinker armor," said Mr. Sanderson. "The blood lubricates the leather and keeps it supple. One thing to watch out for though – it's weak to fire. Try not to get hit by a fireball or something because it'll take twice as long to regenerate. Oh, and take this thing." He pulled out a small bundle from the package.

Sorin pulled out a thin, taper strap of bundled leather out of the package. "A whip?" asked Sorin in surprise. "I don't remember ordering this."

"I had a bunch of scraps lying around and thought I'd throw it into the mix," said Mr. Sanderson. "Those mages are cheap bastards, but they ultimately agreed to link it with the blood drinker enchantment. You'll need to feed it just like the armor. A tablespoon a week should do the trick."

Sorin accepted the whip and directly used Python Coil to test out its abilities. The whip wrapped around one of the wooden pillars supporting the building's roof but pulled it back when the wood started hissing and warping. "Apologies," said Sorin to Mr. Sanderson. "I'm used to using this technique with a mithril string. I didn't realize it would be so potent. Please have someone assess it and send me the bill."

"Don't worry about it," said Mr. Sanderson. "It's a small matter. I'll get Mr. Woodworth to take a look at it, and he'll make it good as new."

Sorin went to the back and peeled off his armor. "Any big plans for the day?" asked Mr. Sanderson as he emerged. "You can settle your bill now or arrange for installments."

"I'll pay right now," said Sorin, handing over 1450 gold in gold cards. "As for plans, I was going to stop by the Alchemists Guild. I have an appointment with Mr. Primrose."

"The apothecary?" asked Mr. Sanderson. "Makes sense, given your cultivation path."

"You know him?" asked Sorin.

"We've collaborated during a few demon tides when things got tough," said Mr. Sanderson. "Us support cultivators usually don't get involved, but when push comes to shove, we are bone forging cultivators."

"So he's a bone forging cultivator as well," said Sorin.

"One of three at the Alchemists Guild," said Mr. Sanderson. "Similarly, the Blacksmiths Guild, the Mages Guild, the Adventurers Guild, and the Governor's Manor also have three apiece."

They seem to maintain a specific number on purpose, thought Sorin. Is it for balance reasons? Do they ship extras to the big cities?

"Any tips on interacting with him?" asked Sorin. "What's Mr. Primrose like?"

"Jaded," said Mr. Sanderson. "Pragmatic. Hard-working. Likes raising insects."

"Insects?" asked Sorin.

"It's a poison thing, or so I'm told," said Mr. Sanderson. "He's a handsome man after my own heart, but he makes himself emotionally unavailable. A shame, really.

"The only advice that I can offer is to show interest but to your thoughts to yourself. The last thing you want to do is upset a poisoner. In terms of damage potential, he's probably in the top 5 of the entire city. Now, will you be taking this away yourself, or would you like it delivered?"

"Please send the armor over to the Kepler Manor," said Sorin, not wanting to be burdened with the package all day. "Is there a delivery fee?"

Mr. Sanderson shook his head. "It's included with your purchase. It should get there before dinner time – let me know if it doesn't."

"I'll be sure to come by if I need anything else," said Sorin.

"Don't be a stranger," said Mr. Sanderson. "Especially if you find some more premium materials for me to work with!"

***

The Alchemists Guild, like the Mages Guild, was located close to the town's central square. It wasn't as grand as the Mages Guild, occupying only a single city block. Still, it was no less critical to cultivators and non-cultivators alike. A steady stream of customers entered and left the guild every day to purchase purification potions, healing, and mana potions. The guild also sold a considerable amount of blood-thickening potions to the city's cultivators, an essential resource for cultivators looking to increase their cultivation realms.

The guild's storefront was much less busy than usual due to the impending demon tide. News that the guild was no longer producing non-healing and non-mana potions had spread. Most cultivators were forced to put their cultivation on hold and instead prepare for the impending battle.

There were roughly a thousand combat-ready cultivators in the outpost. This figure did not include the city's supporting cultivators, which numbered nearly 1,500. To Sorin's knowledge, there were only 20 official alchemists in the city to support all these cultivators. This included the three bone-forging alchemists that Mr. Sanderson had mentioned.

Sorin skipped Henry's storefront and directly proceeded to the guild's reception, where customers could meet with alchemists for custom orders. "Can I help you?" asked the receptionist, barely looking up from an alchemy textbook.

"I have an appointment with Mr. Primrose in five minutes," said Sorin.

The receptionist shook when he mentioned the name. "Apothecary Primrose, you say? He's on the second floor, workshop 22. You… you don't need someone to lead you there, do you?" She seemed highly reluctant to go anywhere near the apothecary's workshop.

"That won't be necessary," said Sorin. "I know my way around."

The receptionist let out a sigh of relief but leaned over to issue him a friendly warning. "Be sure to keep your questions short and your comments to yourself. And if you smell anything funny or out of the ordinary, don't run. If he wants to kill you, no one in the outpost will be able to save you."

Sorin made his way up the building's familiar stone steps. The workshops were organized in such a manner that each one had a window as an emergency exit. At the center of the building's second floor stood several vats of powder. These powders were mostly non-reactive and could be used to extinguish even magical fires.

Workshop 22 was the furthest workshop from the entrance. It was also separated from the other workshops via thick stone double walls. Warning signs were plastered all over the door, along with a giant list of rules that needed to be followed. This included the golden rule: no eating or drinking in the laboratory.

The door took a great deal of strength to open and automatically slammed shut once Sorin was inside the workshop. The workshop was much larger than the ones he was used to but only had one occupant.

Mr. Primrose was a tidy man. He was tall and thin and wore black pants with a white cotton shirt that he rolled up past his elbows. He had long black hair that he kept tied up in a ponytail and a pair of circular spectacles that sat too far up his nose. Sorin immediately recognized him as the representative from the Alchemists Guild that had witnessed the matter with Orpheus at the Adventurers Guild.

"Mr. Sorin Kepler, I presume," said the man, not bothering to turn around to greet him. The man was standing near a fume hood, where he was busy dripping drops of blue liquid into a beaker of glowing green liquid. "Formerly a one-star physician. Currently a poison cultivator and adventurer. Training includes rudimentary alchemy and laboratory skills. Due to political machinations within the Kepler Clan, he is prohibited from obtaining the designation of 'Alchemist' without prior approval from the Kepler Clan. The Apothecary designation is acceptable, pending a qualified assessment."

"Looks like they've got an extensive dossier on me," said Sorin.

"A necessity when dealing with potential recruits into the ranks of my lowly profession," said Mr. Primrose. "After all, we wouldn't want a person with criminal tendencies learning to make poisons on a large scale, would we?"

"I suppose not," agreed Sorin.

"Then let's not waste time and get on with it," said Mr. Primrose, still not looking up. "Tell me - If an individual were to cook an ash swamp toad and stew it with tomatoes on the vine and caramelized onions before consuming it, what harm might you expect to befall him?" White snowflake-like precipitates appeared appearing the green beaker under the fume hood. Though they seemed harmless, Sorin could tell that this was the actual poison being concocted by the two-star apothecary.

"Though I can't see why anyone would ever do such a thing, can I ask some questions first?" asked Sorin.

"You may," said the man.

"Was any salt added to the stew?" asked Sorin. "Were any spices, herbs, or fragrant roots added to the mix?"

"Standard table salt, non-iodized," said the man, taking the beaker over to a filter flask. He poured the contents out, then used his mana to form a vacuum that sucked away the liquid and began drying the white snowflakes. "Also, he added thyme, red ginger, and garlic. Oh, and some beef stock because he heard frog meat wasn't delicious."

Sorin quickly discarded what information wasn't relevant and kept what was. "Then there are several possibilities," said Sorin. "The first possibility is death within 5 seconds, caused by seizing of the heart and immediate loss of blood circulation to the brain.

"The second possibility is that in the preparation process, he wisely removed the internal organs and washed the frog meat, leaving only paralytic poisons to leach into the stew. In this case, he'd fall over, stiff as a board, but awaken the following day. That's all assuming he didn't suffer head trauma or anything similar on the way down.

"The third possibility is that the red ginger you described isn't the common red ginger used in cooking, but the red ginger alchemists use in creating antidotes. In this case, there are two outcomes. First, the heart seizure will be delayed and become a standard heart attack. It's possible to survive with the help of a life mage or physician's intervention. As for the paralytic effect, it would be completely neutralized by the red ginger. If the frog had its innards removed, and the medicinal red ginger was used, the stew would be a marvelous albeit tasteless meal made with over 200 gold of medicinal ingredients."

"Anything else?" asked the man.

"There's nothing else unless I've missed other factors related to the water, the person's general health, and contact with other substances," said Sorin. "This is what I would answer if a physician requested a consultation."