Post by Athena on Aug 1, 2009 20:03:11 GMT -5
He finds himself shaping flames and escapes
She prowled across the rooftops, enjoying the thick feel of the air one gets before it rains. It was like home, where the air was always this way, and the smell of the earth…Ah well. She was getting distracted again. The reason she was out in the rain, on top of the buildings near downtown, was because she was hunting a member of the Silent Rose. Specifically a half-elf named Snow. She figured with his brother, Scout, as part of the Court, he might be able to be swayed into joining the Court and their cause. If not, at least he and Gen would make valuable..amusements. Then again, the word of mouth had it that Gen would be harder to take down if this got out of hand… She tenses, and stops.
Sniff the air….there! That’s the smell of fire, and Snow is well-known for setting things alight. Oh this was going to be fun…
In she bound and hid, cautiously in the shadows of a nearby building as he and his charge stumbled out of a now smoking room into the alleyway. He’s murmuring quietly to his charge as he’s looking over his shoulders and sheperds the kid about. Perfect. A quietly whispered spell, and his charge is sprawled out on the ground. She stands over him and studies his features. Probably someone interesting, so she won’t kill him for now. She hears a noise, and sees that he’s noticed her. He rushes forward, sloppy, very sloppy, and easy to avoid. Dodge, and hide again. She watches curiously, her ears perking forward as he checks the pulse of his charge and glances about, aware. See if the spell will work a second time and---damn. Of course, someone of his reputation would have excellent shields. She’ll have to get up close and personal then, how messy.
A quick whack to the back of his head with the hilt of a dagger should do it. He winces and whirls around. It’s a surprise he’s not on the ground, oh well. A quick deft twirl of her hand, the dagger is facing the other way, and she slams the hilt into the side of his face, and watches with amusement as he slides to the ground, his sword clattering on the cobblestones from now-numb fingers. Carrying these two is going to be a pain, but this should be entertaining. One dagger to her hip sheath, and the other to her boot sheath, she bends and hoists him over her shoulder (damn it, aren’t elves supposed to be lighter then this?) and with the other arm she grabs his charge under one arm. Shifting slightly, so the balance is a bit better, she starts off on a run back to her home, careful to stay in the shadows and avoid any spies, of her own faction or the others.
One captive in an abandoned tower she'd claimed for herself and the other in her rooms, she settles down with a mug of mint tea (---gods my head hurts. Bloody spells always have this aftermath. Shoulders hurt too…should go take a bath soon but he’s stirring---) He jumps, or tries to, and ends up making a muffled groan of pain as he nearly falls off the bed she set him on. One eye cautiously opens this time, taking in the surroundings and lands on her. She smiles pleasantly….
burning roads and pavement and buildings down
He is herding Gen out the door, looking back over his shoulder before he is even quite sure he has decided to leave. He is glancing over each shoulder, Gen murmuring at his back to slow down, please, panicking but trying not to let it show. His knuckles are white over the handle of his sword. He hears Gen fall to the ground and turns sharply to see a dark clad figure standing over his charge. With a snarl and then a curse he unsheathes his sword and hurtles at...him? her? He can't tell. Their clothes were too shapeless, but whoever they were, they were fast, because they laughed, dodged his attack and vanished from his view. He paused, searching the alleyway desperately as he kneels to check Gen’s pulse, muttering about how incompetent the boy was at watching out for himself when he felt a hard blow to the back of his head. He jumped upright, turned, and the last thing he saw was the hilt of a dagger hurtling towards his face, and then – black.
until
He blearily blinked. What was going on? The last thing he remembered was….Oh gods -- Gen! He tries to jump and winces, white hot agony flashing before his eyes. He curls up on the…bed? trying to figure out what is going on. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Those particular blocks were made for you, as was that rope. I should know, I wove it myself,” said a quiet voice. Feminine. Soft, warm, low, and slightly amused. Some sense of authority in it. He opened one eye, slowly, cautiously, this time, blinking as light filtered in. He was in some room that looked like a cross between a cage you would find in a menagrie (was that a…hanging platform in a tree? What?), a high noble’s room (velvets and satins of highest quality on the canopy bed, a posh couple of couches, loveseats, and other manner of furniture) and a war room (maps, paintings of specific people, he recognized himself and Gen among them, documents). Draped almost picturesquely across a roman style bed was an attractive female of the Kiet. Black hair. Green eyes. Leather. Cup of what smelled like mint tea sitting in the crook between her hip and stomach. Pair of daggers sitting in sheath on her hip and attached to one high boot, an obvious threat and reminder that he was captive, and she was armed. What the hell was a Kiet doing here? Kiet never left the jungle. She raised an eyebrow and quirked one side of her generous mouth, “Now that I have your attention. Welcome to my humble abode, Snow. You may notice, you’re bound, both in mind, mouth, and well, general limbs.” He looks down, and sees that he is indeed, bound with some sort of silver and black cord, and he notices, for the first time, the taste of metal and cloth in his mouth. He looks back up at her, cautious, he doesn’t want to feel that pain again.
“That headache you had, was probably a result of my braining you in the head, since your blasted shields made it impossible to just knock you out nice and simple with a touch of magic, but alas, that’s the way of the world. Never anything easy!” she smiles, pleasantly. He glares at her, wondering why he’s not dead yet. “Now, I can’t have you breaking out and making a mess of things. The Court has no idea you’re here. Of course, part of my terms of my being in service was that they can’t enter my rooms, spy in my rooms, and if I find anyone spying, magical means or otherwise, I’ll gut them and leave them in a popular tavern to die. By the same token, it means no one knows you’re here. So I could either murder you, or we could have civil conversation, and I’ll try to decide what to do with you. Nod for option of conversation, and do be careful, I may have given you a concussion, and wiggle your fingers to die an honorless, lonely, and unknown death.” She finishes speaking, and gives him a cheeky grin. …He really shouldn’t find this attractive. With a sigh, he slowly, cautiously, nods, expecting pain, and receives a slight throbbing. She smiles brightly, and in a fluid movement jumps up, bounds over and reaches for his gag, or whatever it is she’s put in his mouth. She pauses for a second, and says, “Just so you know, of my race, I am one of the best-trained to ever emerge. If you attempt to do anything like call for help, I will end you. And it will be painful, but quick.” Her face is entirely serious now. He winces, and nods. With that she slowly and cautiously began to remove the gag, metal scraping against his teeth, causing him to wince and gasp in pain as it sends pain shooting through his temples. When the gag is removed, he spits a few times into a rag she puts next to him. “Water?” she offers. He clears his throat, and croaks “Please.”
Snow sipped the water. The Kiet looked at him from her newly-reoccupied position on the bed, as if she was a cat waiting for a mouse to try to run away.
“Oh, you mean Gen?” The Kiet smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “I put him in a tower that I staked out for myself a while back. He’s fine. A bit unconscious, but fine.” Snow nodded, then winced as his head throbbed. At least he wasn’t dead.
The Kiet stretched out over the bed. Snow averted his head, turning slightly red. “As long as we’re going to have civil conversation, I might as well introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Anouke, from the Court.”
“The Court?” Snow frowns, face still turned away. “Might I ask why a member of the Court would be tracking me down? Surely I have some sort of diplomatic immunity, what with Scout being in the Court and all.
“That’s the point.” Anouke picked up her mint tea and sipped it casually. “There’s quite a few people out there for your blood, and your brother would rather you not die, but that’s not why I sought you out.” Snow raised an eyebrow. Anouke put down the tea and leaned forward, looking directly at Snow. “Why I sought you out is because I’ve heard interesting things about you, and I’d rather you didn’t die, particularly as I may have a job offer for you.”
“A job offer?” Snow leaned back into the bed. It started to envelop his head, and he propped himself up with his arms. “I find it interesting that you would go through the trouble of capturing me to give me a job offer when you could have just approached me and asked.”
“Again, you had people after you. Not only that, but you may notice you’re not from a faction that holds deep affection for me. Had I approached you, and had you heard of me, you would’ve tried to kill me.” Snow opened his mouth, but Anouke continued on. “I do my best to make sure nobody knows I exist, too. Not only that, this gives me some… leverage, and protects you from the court as well. Besides, I only said maybe a job offer.”
She smirked. “I might just keep you to look at.” Snow looked down at the cords binding his lower body.
“Well,” he said. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a while.”
She grinned cheekily, “So, how does that sword of yours work?”
“It’s a sword, it cuts things.”
She raised an eyebrow “ You’re bound, at my mercy, and still being a smartass. Tip of the hat to you in that respect, but terribly rude considering I actually gave you water and put you on a bed, as opposed to a nice stone floor, underground somewhere, with rats and leeches in the puddles. Considering I had to carry your fat ass all the way here, up and down several buildings, AND your companion, as opposed to leaving him to die or be found by those on your trail—who, I might add, were close on your tail, you may as well answer me, considering I’ve heard the stories about you.”
"...Well then. It's a focus for my magic. I cast most of my spells through it." A thoughtful look crossed her face. She got up from the couch, taking her mug with her and disappeared through an archway, concealed by some ferns, returning with a relatively large book, quill and ink, writing something down.
“What kind of magic? Anything besides fire?” she asked.
"What do you think I am, a one-trick pony? Of course I use things other than fire." Snow flinched, then regained his posture. "Mainly fire and light-based magic, along with some defensive magic, if you want to get technical."
She smirked again. “Many a so-called mage, particularly those who use channels are one trick ponies. I do have some tricks of my own, but I don’t do more then two or three types myself. I did notice the defensive, yes, but a fire mage can indeed do specific types of defensive, so I took that for granted. Your fighting style, from what I saw was sloppy, but you seemed a bit desperate to get your companion free. Why is that?”
"He needs protection, from the Firestarters and from others." He looked up at the top of the bed canopy. "He's a bit young, as you may have noticed. I feel the need to make sure that he doesn't get himself killed."
A thoughtful look crossed her face. She slowly nodded, and crossed her room, yet again, to a chest of dark stained wood and silver plating. A bit of fidgeting on her part produced a chain with a key on it, from underneath part of her bodice. Unlocking the chest she removed a bottle and two glasses. “Presuming you’re willing to be cooperative, and give me your word to neither kill me, attack me, or go wandering, I’d like to put us on a more equal level. I untie you, but not remove the blocks, and you have a drink with me, and we’ll talk some more. I can also give you some of this” she shook the bottle “and your head will undoubtably feel a bit better.”
Snow nodded. "Attacking you wouldn't get me anywhere at this point, and wandering off would just get me lost. If you could untie me, that would be excellent."
“Your word, then?” she asked pointedly. "Yes, my word." Snow raised an eyebrow.
"My word -is- good enough, I'm assuming."
She smirked. “Would I ask for it otherwise?” without waiting for an answer, she pulled a dark wood table over, along with a stool, and set glasses and bottle on it. With a swift motion, she drew her dagger and ran it lightly along the knots behind his back. A hissing, slightly metallic sound came from behind his back, and when he looked, the ropes had untied. “Don’t stand up suddenly, or do too many sudden moves, my best suggestion would be to lie on your side, but prop yourself up with one of the pillows in order to take a drink.” she cautioned.
"Is the safety precaution for you or me?" Snow asked as he propped himself up on one of the pillows.
“Well, if you prefer a headache similar to the one you woke up with, I could, with no small amount of amusement provide you with that,” she said sardonically.
"Fair enough." Snow looked around. "Do you treat most of your guests in this manner, or am I the special expection to the rule?" She threw her head back and laughed, “No, Snow, you’re an exception. Most guests are in the aforementioned dark hole in the ground. Though I suppose Gen is also an exception. You, however, make me curious, and are intelligent enough you won’t go storming about, breaking things.”
"You said you heard stories about me. I wasn't aware that I was so well known."
“They aren’t. I just know the right people.”
Snow glanced off to the side. "Like Scout?" She uncorked the bottle and poured a bright green liquid into both glasses, water beading on the sides as she set it back down.
“Drink that.” She ordered, picking up her own glass and throwing it back. “And yes, Scout was a source, but more for embarrassing childhood stories, and less for ways to find you, let alone useful information.” She replied with wry disgust.
"Scout always enjoyed making me feel embarrassed." Snow slowly took the glass. "And where did you hear the stories from, might I ask?" She smirked. “I don’t speak of my informants, and I also eavesdrop, rather a lot. Good way of being able to not be noticed.”
"Ah." He takes a small sip. "What exactly am I drinking here?"
“It’s a type of cactus juice, one can draw from, in a tiny, almost unfindable portion of the Aksumite desert. It naturally does good for aches, so I imbued it with a bit of magic, so it’s essentialy purified to do more.”
She prowled across the rooftops, enjoying the thick feel of the air one gets before it rains. It was like home, where the air was always this way, and the smell of the earth…Ah well. She was getting distracted again. The reason she was out in the rain, on top of the buildings near downtown, was because she was hunting a member of the Silent Rose. Specifically a half-elf named Snow. She figured with his brother, Scout, as part of the Court, he might be able to be swayed into joining the Court and their cause. If not, at least he and Gen would make valuable..amusements. Then again, the word of mouth had it that Gen would be harder to take down if this got out of hand… She tenses, and stops.
Sniff the air….there! That’s the smell of fire, and Snow is well-known for setting things alight. Oh this was going to be fun…
In she bound and hid, cautiously in the shadows of a nearby building as he and his charge stumbled out of a now smoking room into the alleyway. He’s murmuring quietly to his charge as he’s looking over his shoulders and sheperds the kid about. Perfect. A quietly whispered spell, and his charge is sprawled out on the ground. She stands over him and studies his features. Probably someone interesting, so she won’t kill him for now. She hears a noise, and sees that he’s noticed her. He rushes forward, sloppy, very sloppy, and easy to avoid. Dodge, and hide again. She watches curiously, her ears perking forward as he checks the pulse of his charge and glances about, aware. See if the spell will work a second time and---damn. Of course, someone of his reputation would have excellent shields. She’ll have to get up close and personal then, how messy.
A quick whack to the back of his head with the hilt of a dagger should do it. He winces and whirls around. It’s a surprise he’s not on the ground, oh well. A quick deft twirl of her hand, the dagger is facing the other way, and she slams the hilt into the side of his face, and watches with amusement as he slides to the ground, his sword clattering on the cobblestones from now-numb fingers. Carrying these two is going to be a pain, but this should be entertaining. One dagger to her hip sheath, and the other to her boot sheath, she bends and hoists him over her shoulder (damn it, aren’t elves supposed to be lighter then this?) and with the other arm she grabs his charge under one arm. Shifting slightly, so the balance is a bit better, she starts off on a run back to her home, careful to stay in the shadows and avoid any spies, of her own faction or the others.
One captive in an abandoned tower she'd claimed for herself and the other in her rooms, she settles down with a mug of mint tea (---gods my head hurts. Bloody spells always have this aftermath. Shoulders hurt too…should go take a bath soon but he’s stirring---) He jumps, or tries to, and ends up making a muffled groan of pain as he nearly falls off the bed she set him on. One eye cautiously opens this time, taking in the surroundings and lands on her. She smiles pleasantly….
burning roads and pavement and buildings down
He is herding Gen out the door, looking back over his shoulder before he is even quite sure he has decided to leave. He is glancing over each shoulder, Gen murmuring at his back to slow down, please, panicking but trying not to let it show. His knuckles are white over the handle of his sword. He hears Gen fall to the ground and turns sharply to see a dark clad figure standing over his charge. With a snarl and then a curse he unsheathes his sword and hurtles at...him? her? He can't tell. Their clothes were too shapeless, but whoever they were, they were fast, because they laughed, dodged his attack and vanished from his view. He paused, searching the alleyway desperately as he kneels to check Gen’s pulse, muttering about how incompetent the boy was at watching out for himself when he felt a hard blow to the back of his head. He jumped upright, turned, and the last thing he saw was the hilt of a dagger hurtling towards his face, and then – black.
until
He blearily blinked. What was going on? The last thing he remembered was….Oh gods -- Gen! He tries to jump and winces, white hot agony flashing before his eyes. He curls up on the…bed? trying to figure out what is going on. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Those particular blocks were made for you, as was that rope. I should know, I wove it myself,” said a quiet voice. Feminine. Soft, warm, low, and slightly amused. Some sense of authority in it. He opened one eye, slowly, cautiously, this time, blinking as light filtered in. He was in some room that looked like a cross between a cage you would find in a menagrie (was that a…hanging platform in a tree? What?), a high noble’s room (velvets and satins of highest quality on the canopy bed, a posh couple of couches, loveseats, and other manner of furniture) and a war room (maps, paintings of specific people, he recognized himself and Gen among them, documents). Draped almost picturesquely across a roman style bed was an attractive female of the Kiet. Black hair. Green eyes. Leather. Cup of what smelled like mint tea sitting in the crook between her hip and stomach. Pair of daggers sitting in sheath on her hip and attached to one high boot, an obvious threat and reminder that he was captive, and she was armed. What the hell was a Kiet doing here? Kiet never left the jungle. She raised an eyebrow and quirked one side of her generous mouth, “Now that I have your attention. Welcome to my humble abode, Snow. You may notice, you’re bound, both in mind, mouth, and well, general limbs.” He looks down, and sees that he is indeed, bound with some sort of silver and black cord, and he notices, for the first time, the taste of metal and cloth in his mouth. He looks back up at her, cautious, he doesn’t want to feel that pain again.
“That headache you had, was probably a result of my braining you in the head, since your blasted shields made it impossible to just knock you out nice and simple with a touch of magic, but alas, that’s the way of the world. Never anything easy!” she smiles, pleasantly. He glares at her, wondering why he’s not dead yet. “Now, I can’t have you breaking out and making a mess of things. The Court has no idea you’re here. Of course, part of my terms of my being in service was that they can’t enter my rooms, spy in my rooms, and if I find anyone spying, magical means or otherwise, I’ll gut them and leave them in a popular tavern to die. By the same token, it means no one knows you’re here. So I could either murder you, or we could have civil conversation, and I’ll try to decide what to do with you. Nod for option of conversation, and do be careful, I may have given you a concussion, and wiggle your fingers to die an honorless, lonely, and unknown death.” She finishes speaking, and gives him a cheeky grin. …He really shouldn’t find this attractive. With a sigh, he slowly, cautiously, nods, expecting pain, and receives a slight throbbing. She smiles brightly, and in a fluid movement jumps up, bounds over and reaches for his gag, or whatever it is she’s put in his mouth. She pauses for a second, and says, “Just so you know, of my race, I am one of the best-trained to ever emerge. If you attempt to do anything like call for help, I will end you. And it will be painful, but quick.” Her face is entirely serious now. He winces, and nods. With that she slowly and cautiously began to remove the gag, metal scraping against his teeth, causing him to wince and gasp in pain as it sends pain shooting through his temples. When the gag is removed, he spits a few times into a rag she puts next to him. “Water?” she offers. He clears his throat, and croaks “Please.”
Snow sipped the water. The Kiet looked at him from her newly-reoccupied position on the bed, as if she was a cat waiting for a mouse to try to run away.
“Oh, you mean Gen?” The Kiet smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “I put him in a tower that I staked out for myself a while back. He’s fine. A bit unconscious, but fine.” Snow nodded, then winced as his head throbbed. At least he wasn’t dead.
The Kiet stretched out over the bed. Snow averted his head, turning slightly red. “As long as we’re going to have civil conversation, I might as well introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Anouke, from the Court.”
“The Court?” Snow frowns, face still turned away. “Might I ask why a member of the Court would be tracking me down? Surely I have some sort of diplomatic immunity, what with Scout being in the Court and all.
“That’s the point.” Anouke picked up her mint tea and sipped it casually. “There’s quite a few people out there for your blood, and your brother would rather you not die, but that’s not why I sought you out.” Snow raised an eyebrow. Anouke put down the tea and leaned forward, looking directly at Snow. “Why I sought you out is because I’ve heard interesting things about you, and I’d rather you didn’t die, particularly as I may have a job offer for you.”
“A job offer?” Snow leaned back into the bed. It started to envelop his head, and he propped himself up with his arms. “I find it interesting that you would go through the trouble of capturing me to give me a job offer when you could have just approached me and asked.”
“Again, you had people after you. Not only that, but you may notice you’re not from a faction that holds deep affection for me. Had I approached you, and had you heard of me, you would’ve tried to kill me.” Snow opened his mouth, but Anouke continued on. “I do my best to make sure nobody knows I exist, too. Not only that, this gives me some… leverage, and protects you from the court as well. Besides, I only said maybe a job offer.”
She smirked. “I might just keep you to look at.” Snow looked down at the cords binding his lower body.
“Well,” he said. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a while.”
She grinned cheekily, “So, how does that sword of yours work?”
“It’s a sword, it cuts things.”
She raised an eyebrow “ You’re bound, at my mercy, and still being a smartass. Tip of the hat to you in that respect, but terribly rude considering I actually gave you water and put you on a bed, as opposed to a nice stone floor, underground somewhere, with rats and leeches in the puddles. Considering I had to carry your fat ass all the way here, up and down several buildings, AND your companion, as opposed to leaving him to die or be found by those on your trail—who, I might add, were close on your tail, you may as well answer me, considering I’ve heard the stories about you.”
"...Well then. It's a focus for my magic. I cast most of my spells through it." A thoughtful look crossed her face. She got up from the couch, taking her mug with her and disappeared through an archway, concealed by some ferns, returning with a relatively large book, quill and ink, writing something down.
“What kind of magic? Anything besides fire?” she asked.
"What do you think I am, a one-trick pony? Of course I use things other than fire." Snow flinched, then regained his posture. "Mainly fire and light-based magic, along with some defensive magic, if you want to get technical."
She smirked again. “Many a so-called mage, particularly those who use channels are one trick ponies. I do have some tricks of my own, but I don’t do more then two or three types myself. I did notice the defensive, yes, but a fire mage can indeed do specific types of defensive, so I took that for granted. Your fighting style, from what I saw was sloppy, but you seemed a bit desperate to get your companion free. Why is that?”
"He needs protection, from the Firestarters and from others." He looked up at the top of the bed canopy. "He's a bit young, as you may have noticed. I feel the need to make sure that he doesn't get himself killed."
A thoughtful look crossed her face. She slowly nodded, and crossed her room, yet again, to a chest of dark stained wood and silver plating. A bit of fidgeting on her part produced a chain with a key on it, from underneath part of her bodice. Unlocking the chest she removed a bottle and two glasses. “Presuming you’re willing to be cooperative, and give me your word to neither kill me, attack me, or go wandering, I’d like to put us on a more equal level. I untie you, but not remove the blocks, and you have a drink with me, and we’ll talk some more. I can also give you some of this” she shook the bottle “and your head will undoubtably feel a bit better.”
Snow nodded. "Attacking you wouldn't get me anywhere at this point, and wandering off would just get me lost. If you could untie me, that would be excellent."
“Your word, then?” she asked pointedly. "Yes, my word." Snow raised an eyebrow.
"My word -is- good enough, I'm assuming."
She smirked. “Would I ask for it otherwise?” without waiting for an answer, she pulled a dark wood table over, along with a stool, and set glasses and bottle on it. With a swift motion, she drew her dagger and ran it lightly along the knots behind his back. A hissing, slightly metallic sound came from behind his back, and when he looked, the ropes had untied. “Don’t stand up suddenly, or do too many sudden moves, my best suggestion would be to lie on your side, but prop yourself up with one of the pillows in order to take a drink.” she cautioned.
"Is the safety precaution for you or me?" Snow asked as he propped himself up on one of the pillows.
“Well, if you prefer a headache similar to the one you woke up with, I could, with no small amount of amusement provide you with that,” she said sardonically.
"Fair enough." Snow looked around. "Do you treat most of your guests in this manner, or am I the special expection to the rule?" She threw her head back and laughed, “No, Snow, you’re an exception. Most guests are in the aforementioned dark hole in the ground. Though I suppose Gen is also an exception. You, however, make me curious, and are intelligent enough you won’t go storming about, breaking things.”
"You said you heard stories about me. I wasn't aware that I was so well known."
“They aren’t. I just know the right people.”
Snow glanced off to the side. "Like Scout?" She uncorked the bottle and poured a bright green liquid into both glasses, water beading on the sides as she set it back down.
“Drink that.” She ordered, picking up her own glass and throwing it back. “And yes, Scout was a source, but more for embarrassing childhood stories, and less for ways to find you, let alone useful information.” She replied with wry disgust.
"Scout always enjoyed making me feel embarrassed." Snow slowly took the glass. "And where did you hear the stories from, might I ask?" She smirked. “I don’t speak of my informants, and I also eavesdrop, rather a lot. Good way of being able to not be noticed.”
"Ah." He takes a small sip. "What exactly am I drinking here?"
“It’s a type of cactus juice, one can draw from, in a tiny, almost unfindable portion of the Aksumite desert. It naturally does good for aches, so I imbued it with a bit of magic, so it’s essentialy purified to do more.”
