Emberscale Alchemist

If she weren't so pre-occupied with herself, she'd have counted another reason that there would be no missing the event she'd just engendered. Namely the screaming and wailing. Some small portion of which originating from her own mouth.

Tears streamed down her scales, drawing lines in the residue that coated them only for yet more to become entrapped by the moisture and get washed away as more tears fell, leaving room for the cycle to repeat. She tried blinking away the irritating fumes, covering her face with her tunic, her satchel, anything at hand, nothing helped. Rubbing them with the heels of her palms only making it worse for the dust that had settled there too.

The scant few moments that she allowed her eyes to be open revealed the world to be a wavy watery, stinging mess, the tears in her eyes causing the landscape to become unrecognizable. She wasn't sure if that was a sack of grain a few feet away or the limp form of a goblin crawling towards her. A kick, just in case, revealed it to thankfully be the former.

The only thing she could perceive clearly was the presence of a notification, the blurring of her watery eyes effecting neither the little light that was just outside her vision, nor the string of text that was revealed when she prodded it with a 'why'. A word that could be heard aloud as well, though the context and tone there was less one of curiosity and more of a plea.

<<Status condition applied. Stinging Cloud. Severity: low>>

Low?! Seriously? How the scale is this low!

It felt like much longer, but after only a dozen or so seconds the cloud had mostly dispersed, blown, unfortunately, over the rest of the caravan by a Westerly wind rather than away from it. The melees occurring at the front and end were spared, but anyone hiding within the other carts while they waited for their defenders to emerge victorious were not so lucky.

The screaming, initially less in anguish and more fearful from these new victims, came as they tried to flee or hide from the encroaching haze only to find the effort in vain. With the cloud's dispersal came a lessening of potency, but those caught in its dregs still found themselves subject to a portion of its ill effects.

This was observed by all in the vicinity, fighting at both ends having come to a standstill as everyone watched the grey-black cloud that had suddenly erupted in their midst engulf the object of their conflict. Though for those at the tail, the struggle was mostly over by then anyway; a single goblin remained on their feet, well, foot, at this point. The other limb had been shattered, their knee bending fully in the wrong direction when that particular gob had been bowled over by one of its comrades brief stint as a throwing weapon.

A single thump, as though she were forcing closed the stubborn lid of a barrel, cleared the remaining goblin as it distractedly watched its fellows rolling and writhing on the ground on the East side of the caravan.

As Kori's vision returned, still plagued by the stinging irritation as though she were trying to boil her eyeballs while they were still within their sockets, once again able to discern the difference between a sack of grain and a goblin, she saw the havoc her little jar had wrought.

It was only supposed to be a prank…

The cart she was in had a light dusting of grey residue, the same residue painting lines down her scales where the tears had passed and that covered much of her person. Even the bushes and trees had the clinging oily dust coating their surface in generous portions.

"If I'd used this in the caverns…" She was going to say more, but opening her mouth renewed the flavour of spicy rotten eggs that had invaded the orifice during her earlier exclamations, leaving her doubled over in a coughing fit.

As she once again recovered, she returned her gaze to the chaos of goblins rolling on the ground, screaming in their gibbering language what through context Kori could only assume were obscenities, likely directed at her, and scratching their skin so furiously it left bloody gouges across their flesh.

It was only then that she recalled the bit about 'causes skin irritation' in the flask's description, something she couldn't say she'd experienced all that much of. At least not enough to justify maiming herself as they did. It was then that a memory from a few months prior returned to her, a discussion with Kora in Bolst's lab about an oil that her senior had tried to trick her with before making the flame flasks and how it caused significant skin irritation for the surface races but didn't really bother kobolds.

Scales really are better than skin!

She resisted yelling her thoughts aloud, not wishing to renew the vile taste once again.

Caught up in her own thoughts, Kori nearly missed what happened next to the unfortunate goblins. Something that they themselves unfortunately didn't see coming either. Zln, having taken a weapon in hand, one that had been intended for the purpose even, laid waste to the insensate green skinned menaces. She tried to conjure a bit of sympathy for the would-be brigands' ignoble ends, but whether it was the memories she'd earlier recalled, the fact that they were the aggressors, or the lines of blood and fresh scars marring Zln's armour of woven leather, she found it difficult to form even a mote of the stuff.

A second blinking light caught Kori off-guard, though recalling another reason she may have been less impacted by her concoction than the incapacitated goblins, she assumed it to likely be a level in her poison resistance skill.

With the clamour of her flask's victims dying down and Zln going about her grisly work, the remaining goblins decided that with their ploy of a three-prong ambush had been well and truly routed. Their attempted retreat was about the worst option available, as soon as there were no longer chances of striking allies, their mage had free reign to wield his magics with impunity.

What had been the occasional bolt of mana or jet of flame when he was certain that he wouldn't catch any of his own, transformed into explosive blasts that threw the goblins from their feet and left the brush charred and flaming in its passage. One of them made it far enough to hide behind a tree, but not much further when it finally made a break for it and was showered with goblin spears and flaming blasts from those that had been waiting for it to show itself.

Many of the former combatants were suddenly busy with another important task now that the fighting had ended, running around stamping out flames before they took hold in the early autumn brush and grew out of control. The mage responsible for the predicament chief amongst those darting about as Kori watched curiously when he invoked his mana to pull any flames within a few feet of himself into his palm and snuff them out before darting off to the next patch.

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The remaining eyes turned towards the other notable event that had occurred. One that while also involving fire, was so instantaneous that either nothing ignited or anything that did was suffocated by the gaseous outpouring before it could take hold.

The yelling again shifted in tone and purpose, now it was suspicious, angry, and accusatory. "What the scale was that?" She heard multiple times with subtle differences, the sentiment remaining unchanged regardless of from whom it was sourced.

There was only one person who didn't seem to question what had occurred. One person that Kori would like to say wasn't angry or upset. But as there was spiritual energy still pluming away from Zln's scales while she stared impassively at the youngling, she was reminded that it was impossible to tell what she felt about anything while she was like that.

It didn't take long for some of the others to come to the same conclusion, either on their own or noticing the animist's gaze and putting it together from there, as Kori shrunk back towards her former hiding spot while the crowd formed.

Some tried to defend her, "She's just a youngling, that had to be a new spell from Fsc or some shaman's curse from Zln, right?" or "Was it some new goblin weapon backfiring on them?" or even someone suggesting they were unintentionally saved by a monster that could still be lurking about, waiting for its meal.

The first was easily shot down, Fsc had been at the front and no one there even knew about the goblins until the screams started and everyone knew that the animist didn't do 'actual' magics. That last bit got a glare as well as a "Not I" from the woman in question, her echoing voice still in the throws of her spiritual embodiment causing everyone to flinch and unconsciously take a step back. The second and third were harder to dismiss, some of the trader's paranoia fueled glances at their surroundings ratcheting up another notch.

When Har stomped towards them and yelled, "Kori! Get down here." It seemed to cement the perspective that whatever this was, it had originated with the youngling.

Kori scampered down with her head low and her tail curled, beginning to apologize before her feet even reached the hard packed road. "I'm sorry! I didn't know it was going to be that big, or that bad… the one we tested barely covered a few meters…" She squirmed and wrung her claws as she tried to explain herself.

"What?" Har looked at her first in confusion before turning to shock. "Never mind that, where's your ointment and that mending vial of yours, we need it up front. Now!"

As soon as he finished speaking, rather than relieved she wasn't in trouble, yet, she realized what must have happened for him to need the healing items so badly and began to fumble through her satchel for what she had on her. "I've only got a single full pot and a bit, maybe six doses, and the one suspension." Before she could present the meager few objects to him, Har caught her arm and practically dragged her forward towards the site of the melee. She saw what had him in such a rush long before they reached the front, one of the drivers who had been with him trying to keep the oxen from panicking was on the ground, blood spilling from his midsection while another driver, his own head covered in blood but seemingly without wound, held wads of cloth to his side.

It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened to the pair, even though they should have been meters away from any fighting. Not far off, and in an absolute rage, one of the oxen bucked and struggled, it's eyes wide in terror and pain, while a wobbly spear waved about from its flank. Its harness still held but the wooden shaft to which it was strapped had splintered and broken, its companion that was still lashed to the same yoke keeping it from fleeing.

One of the warriors had her hands firmly grasped on the things horns, one of which was stained red, pulling its head down towards the ground and twisting it to off balance the creature and keep it from going too wild. It should have been a comical sight, a kobold that couldn't weigh more than fifty kilos armed and armoured, trying to hold the lumbering beasts head, if it weren't for everything else going on.

"Already used the potion I had." Har stated, jerking his head towards the bloodied but visibly unharmed driver, "Damn thing cracked his scaly skull when the yoke gave way…" Pointing back to the still bleeding, and pale looking, driver, "Give him everything you've got."

Kori fumbled open the partially used tub of ointment and stepped up to the downed kobold, "But… I've never…" She tried to protest. "Can't Zln?" Her hopeful look was quickly quashed when both Har and the shaman in question shook their heads.

"I can't cast spells any more than you can." The shaman's dispassionate voice reverberated out. The statement was enough of a shock that it took Kori a moment to recognize the hurt alongside.

With no other choice than her concoctions, she scooped out an overly large portion, enough to put him well over the maximum healing it could provide, and winced as the other driver lifted the bloodsoaked cloth that he'd been trying to stem the bleeding with. The wounded kobold cringed and groaned at the change in pressure as new blood began to well up from the round puncture in his side. The cause of such a wound readily apparent.

"Here goes…" She muttered as she began slathering the ointment onto the man's abdomen. She wasn't even sure if it would work properly since she'd never used it on such a wound before. With the other hand she set down the pot of ointment and took up the corked vial containing her suspension of mending. "He needs to drink this. All of it." She instructed as she passed it towards the other would-be medic.

Her conscripted assistant looked at her briefly, hope blooming through the guilt writ across his face as he thought that she'd just produced a second potion of healing. This was replaced with disappointment, confusion, and even a bit of accusation, when the potion failed to produce the instantaneous effect.

Though the ointment seemed to be helping, it wasn't enough. She knew that the suspension acted much slower, but wasn't even sure if they would work together or not. Even Kori could see that the flow of blood from the wound seemed weaker and his scales seemed even paler. "It's not enough…" She said, trying not to let herself despair. When she felt Har's hand close on her shoulder and looked up to see the sadness and helplessness on his face it nearly broke her. The driver might die.

She had one last idea, though it was unlikely to help and would have consequences of its own. "I need my other suspensions." She shouted at Har. She didn't know where they had been packed away, but was hoping he would.

Though they had tried a few of her suspensions, they'd always listened to the appraisal's instructions and not taken more than one in twelve hours. She was about to ignore that piece of advice for the first time.

Where the wording of the mending suspension was the same, they assumed that it counted among the 'one such suspension' that was safe to use at a time, but where they'd only made the two vials, the other of which was still with Imelda, they hadn't tested it. Plus, neither she nor Imelda wanted to find out what it meant by 'causing illness' if their assumption was found to be correct.

Har rushed off, likely seeking whichever well secured crate he'd stashed her creations in, leaving her sitting there holding the man's guts in place with a wad of bloody fabric and hoping that he didn't die before her mentor returned.

With little else to do but apply pressure and wait, Kori checked the notification that was still blinking away in the corner of her vision. As more messages than she'd seen at any one time flashed into being in front of her, she made yet another observation, the day had been full of those. This one was pretty simple, she'd been wrong.

<<You have slain a foe. Combat Class not found. No experience awarded>>
<<Congratulations, Title acquired. First Blood, Common>>
<<You have slain a foe. Combat Class not found. No experience awarded>>
<<You have slain a foe. Combat Class not found. No experience awarded>>
<<You have slain a foe. Combat Class not found. No experience awarded>>
<<You have slain a foe. Combat Class not found. No experience awarded>>
<<You have slain a foe. Combat Class not found. No experience awarded>>