Luck Potion.
Less ambiguous to some, he was sure. To Carasson, it was a toss up. Good luck or bad luck? The use of the term was hazy at best. However in an effort to keep his overly intrusive thoughts from ruining both his enjoyment of this competition and thus his chances at succeeding, he willed himself to think practically.
Good luck was of course the conventional understanding, for it was far more appealing. Bad luck was far too niche a concept for an event such as this.
So he got to work preparing the potion, musing on the ingredients as he looked to his own collection.
He started with elfroot, of course, for a base, its universal properties far too essential to omit. Of that he had plenty on hand. He set the leaves to boil while he waffled on what to add next. As this was up to interpretation, he needed to think as others might. What qualities were considered lucky?
Lavender Sprig to stabilize any volatile combinations. He didn’t know if they had an imposed time limit but he didn’t want to tempt fate. That and he was too much of a perfectionist. Of this he also had in abundance.
Fiend’s Ivy, because what was luckier than mind reading? That along with Rock Vine (because invulnerability was far too lucky to pass up) he was able to source locally through some artful haggling. A smile went far, too. Some natural born luck of his own. He still paid a pretty amount of gold. Each of those he powdered into a fine dust, so that he might add to the base in incremental amounts until the pot simmered with a chartreuse haze, curling over the sides like creeping vines.
Now to the true body of his potion, his version of luck imbued into consumable form. For this he called on his well honed ability to call upon the spirits, summoning all that were near, to his side. His own peanut gallery, all able but only some willing to help. Guided by said spirits, he looked back to his collection and selected three phials with trace amounts left. These were some of the rarer items he possessed, ones he saved for only the most dire of circumstances. He hesitated, fingers ghosting over each as they cradled together in his palm.
For Arlathan. A nearby spirit hissed.
His nostrils flared as he continued to consider the choice before him.
Using these ingredients would mean consuming them entirely, leaving him without, potentially forever, their benefits. Sourcing them had been a lifetime achievement. One he didn’t foresee living long enough to achieve again.
Finally he inhaled sharply, stealing his nerves under a shield of defiance as he moved towards the steaming concoction before him.
For Arlathan.
Tail Leaf, Void Root, and Wisp Stalks. Speed, flying, and invisibility respectively. He emptied the contents of each into the mixture, his heart in his throat as he did.
The potion hissed, sputtered, and gurgled somewhat before finally calming into a flat topped green tinted fluid. Then he stirred. First, clockwise twice and a half, then counterclockwise once, and finally clockwise four times. It was an essential step that would complete the potion which now seemed to emit its own light wane light as he bottled it into a phial, corked it and offered it for inspection.
TLDR;
Less ambiguous to some, he was sure. To Carasson, it was a toss up. Good luck or bad luck? The use of the term was hazy at best. However in an effort to keep his overly intrusive thoughts from ruining both his enjoyment of this competition and thus his chances at succeeding, he willed himself to think practically.
Good luck was of course the conventional understanding, for it was far more appealing. Bad luck was far too niche a concept for an event such as this.
So he got to work preparing the potion, musing on the ingredients as he looked to his own collection.
He started with elfroot, of course, for a base, its universal properties far too essential to omit. Of that he had plenty on hand. He set the leaves to boil while he waffled on what to add next. As this was up to interpretation, he needed to think as others might. What qualities were considered lucky?
Lavender Sprig to stabilize any volatile combinations. He didn’t know if they had an imposed time limit but he didn’t want to tempt fate. That and he was too much of a perfectionist. Of this he also had in abundance.
Fiend’s Ivy, because what was luckier than mind reading? That along with Rock Vine (because invulnerability was far too lucky to pass up) he was able to source locally through some artful haggling. A smile went far, too. Some natural born luck of his own. He still paid a pretty amount of gold. Each of those he powdered into a fine dust, so that he might add to the base in incremental amounts until the pot simmered with a chartreuse haze, curling over the sides like creeping vines.
Now to the true body of his potion, his version of luck imbued into consumable form. For this he called on his well honed ability to call upon the spirits, summoning all that were near, to his side. His own peanut gallery, all able but only some willing to help. Guided by said spirits, he looked back to his collection and selected three phials with trace amounts left. These were some of the rarer items he possessed, ones he saved for only the most dire of circumstances. He hesitated, fingers ghosting over each as they cradled together in his palm.
For Arlathan. A nearby spirit hissed.
His nostrils flared as he continued to consider the choice before him.
Using these ingredients would mean consuming them entirely, leaving him without, potentially forever, their benefits. Sourcing them had been a lifetime achievement. One he didn’t foresee living long enough to achieve again.
Finally he inhaled sharply, stealing his nerves under a shield of defiance as he moved towards the steaming concoction before him.
For Arlathan.
Tail Leaf, Void Root, and Wisp Stalks. Speed, flying, and invisibility respectively. He emptied the contents of each into the mixture, his heart in his throat as he did.
The potion hissed, sputtered, and gurgled somewhat before finally calming into a flat topped green tinted fluid. Then he stirred. First, clockwise twice and a half, then counterclockwise once, and finally clockwise four times. It was an essential step that would complete the potion which now seemed to emit its own light wane light as he bottled it into a phial, corked it and offered it for inspection.
TLDR;
- Elfroot
- Lavender Sprig
- Fiend’s Ivy
- Rock Vine
- Tail Leaf
- Void Root
- Wisp Stalks
- He is using Summon Spirits to ask them for guidance while making this potion.
01-16-2024, 08:10 PM
