look the other way, forget my name
potion time
The bed in his new room on the third floor of the castle's dormitory wing was well furnished in his opinion, there was an actual bed! Sure, it creaked horrifically when he climbed onto it, but that was of little concern right now. A few old shelves for storing anything he might want to keep handy, and a window to look out onto the castle grounds. What more could a man need? Not much else, really. The curtains flapped lightly in the breeze that came through the window, and he'd left the door wide open to allow the flow of fresh air to ease the smells of stagnant air and dust. Having grabbed some of the supplies after a trip down to the makeshift pharmacy on a lower floor, the man was busying himself. Surrounded by a collection of useful accoutrements, and marveling at the value of the items he was using. The glass containers, cheesecloth, as well as the mortar and pestle, were all things that he would never have been able to keep around as a rogue. Now? He just had to keep them clean and be gentle, and he had free reign of them. Which he was fully exploiting today. A mixture of valerian root from the stores, as well as some dried meadowsweet, and a bowl full of water. That was the start of his project. Soaking the two herbs in the water had begun earlier in the morning, letting them rehydrate. By now, it was early afternoon, and the herbs were getting to the point of being waterlogged. This was perfect. Though his head was massive, and his teeth were arguably the most intimidating part of him, he had learned to be extremely careful with them. Using his incisors, he gripped the stems of the soggy meadowsweet and lifted them from their bath. They were dropped into the deep well of the mortar, followed by the far less delicate valerian roots. A small dip of his ebony tongue into the remaining water told him that it was fairly thoroughly saturated with the herbal mixture. It wasn't as strong as the tincture he was intending to make, but this would likely be well suited for use with younger children who could not tolerate a heavier dose. Thick jaws carefully picked up the wooden bowl, and set it aside on one of the shelves near the bed. He'd grab an extra container for it later. Plodding back to his mortar of herbs, he flopped onto his belly and pulled the stone bowl into the space between his forelimbs. The work of turning the herbs into a loose pulp was only half of the battle, and it was going to take him a while. |