[p] to place you in a silver cage
#1
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Setting Location Form NPCs
Location: The Garden, SL

Date: 07 Aug* (Foredated)

Weather: Warm, somewhat cloudy, windy

Time: Late morning
Optime
--


Draugr is by me!

The Confidant walked with her head held high. Her shoulders and tail, too, indicated one of more rank than a mere Associate. The woody-brown wolfdog understood this position better than when she had been a Bambino angling for adulthood, to be sure. She had aimed for this and therefore possessed a thorough understanding of her rank and position before she'd even attained it. Now, however, was the time to put theory aside and engage in her new reality as one of higher rank.

Part of that, to be sure, was aiding the pack more than she had as even an Associate. She could not simply assert her rank and meaning -- it was this, Siv said, which had lead to the downfall of their Auxiliary, leading to her replacement with the Cicerone. Mother's word was law to Draugr, and so she must make sure her rank was earned and well-kept. Part of that was her reasoning for fetching the new slave from mother's home. The garden needed tending, and as Odessa was busier than usual with children, Draugr must pick up any slack.

You've not seen the garden yet? the hybrid asked of the tall golden-hued slave training behind her.

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#2
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weeee
wordcount ► 000

Gale bit back his angry words, his fury. He had promised himself that he would never find himself a slave again, that he would be free. The nose ring was returned, though this time it was of cold gold instead of silver. He touched it with slow fingers, rage building in his heart for his failure and friendly demeanor. But it was the religion of his mother that kept him kind. The hand touched the silver cross at his neck, warm from his flesh. Gale trailed after his new master's daughter, silent as the grave or the warm summer breeze. He stared at the back of her head and knew how easy it could be to kill her, and to run. But she did not deserve such a thing and his niece would be the blood on Siv's hand. He could not in good conscience do such a thing.


"No," he said in his thick accent, the hodgepodge of Italian, Latin, and English. But he had to admit, he liked the idea of the garden and the serenity it could provide him when his anger overflowed. "I have not seen much here," the slave added, rather bitter about this all. He did not say much, keeping his eyes on Draugr's head as though she could disappear and this was all a terrible nightmare. "What is there, Domina?" His use of the Latin honorific purely instinctual and a habit.


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#3
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(362)


Draugr is by Despi!

The gurgle of the river and rush of the waves were audible as they drew nearer to the garden. There was a sweet tinge to the air, and Draugr followed this toward the low fence outlining the garden. Her red-brown ears twitched back to catch the sound of the man's voice. She had surmised as much -- the garden was close to the borders, and the Gale slave had been confined as of late. Though Siv thought the daughter provided quite enough leverage to keep him loyal, there was never any telling with a slave. Draugr, for one, wished to test his boundaries. It was a dangerous thing, to be sure, but she was young and quick and invincible, and there were many within Salsola who would hunt Gale for the joy of it, transgressions against the Family aside.

All sorts of things, she said, stepping gingerly over the little fence and into the orderly rows of plants. There were dirt paths between them, though aside from this and the neat rows, the pack's garden was as explosive of plant life as the virgin forest and uncultivated marsh. Draugr could not yet name most of them -- but her proficiency was increasing. She stalked toward the closest of them, a trio of low shrubs. The woody hybrid grabbed a leaf -- it was short and small, and impossibly green. The waxy feel was vaguely unpleasant, but Draugr squeezed the leaf together and held it up to the slave. Its scent was spicy, sticky sweet.

The leaves smell this way, she said. One must be careful with the oils, though. Odessa's book says such things might be dangerous. But then again, so many plants are both beneficial and dangerous, no? Too much and it's poison, just enough and it cures. This fascinated Draugr above all with plants -- their duality, and the way they might be used in different ways. The berries are different, though. They smell different. We boil them to make candles, she explained. The sweet smell of the candles was infinitely different from the sharp, almost cinnamon scent of the leaves.

Do you see anything you recognize? she asked.

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#4
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weeee
wordcount ► 352

Gale blindly followed behind her, stepping over the fence with ease and the poise of an agile fighter. He felt naked without his spear and he had left the cloak at his lodgings for Yvette, though he did not know where his niece was. Hopefully the woman would treat the innocent girl right, for he had no wish to kill heedlessly.


All around his toes he noticed the plant life flourishing despite the lower average temperature. Gale himself was far more used to warmer climates with steaming summers. Winters here would be far more bitter and ragged than he was used to but he was sure things would be fine. Nothing was quite like Rome though, and he found the comparisons between the two lacking; everything was so much more different here. But the slavery, it seemed, was nothing different. It was just the same, though the ring in his nose was of higher quality than his previous one.


Draugr held up a leaf for him, and the man refocused on it as he slipped from his reverie. Nodding simply, he took the leaf from her hand and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose. It was new to him, but he understood her words fair enough. The English name for some of the things were going to escape him, but he was sure they would understand each other. He dropped the leaf, then gazed at the garden around him for familiar shapes and colors. He gestured with a heavy hand at the thyme, "Thyme, good for coughs and lungs." His sister had known a good deal of medicinal herb lore and he had picked up a great deal of it. "Chives for cleansing, sage cleansing, mint for stomach ache and bad breathe," he rambled off, wondering if they had any others.


Yet he shook his head, waving his arms around. "But no fennel for bowels, marigold for swelling, lemon for toxins, basil for fevers, or rosemary for fevers and memory." Half of them could definitely work here, but the rest would die in the cold. "Half easy to get, rest better traded for."

Image credited to RomeCabs. Table style inspired by Kitty.

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#5
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(--)


Draugr is by Despi!

Draugr was a creature of winter -- born into the late summer, her first clear memories were of the leaves turning colors of fire and dropping from the trees. Winter-bared branches grasping upward toward the pale gray-white winter sky were her next set of memories during the long trek eastward. Snow and cold and ice followed that -- it was only this, her first true summer, she realized she was also a child of this season. Summer and its heat, along with winter and its ice, were both welcome to Draugr. The spring and fall in between, too, were seasons of wonder -- though Dra's attachment to those midways was not so strong as it was to either extreme.

Her eyes followed his gesture. Thankfully, he picked two common plants she was familiar with, and knew his answers to be correct. The hybrid smiled and nodded her head, though her ears pricked with sharper interest as he spoke of other plants. Their names were foreign to Draugr, and her pale eyes narrowed with thought as she considered them. Fennel, marigold, lemon, basil, rosemary? None were particularly familiar, though the names rosemary and marigold were vaguely familiar, perhaps mentioned by Odessa during one of their talks.

Half easy to get? she inquired. Can we get them around here? A faint excitement showed in her face, and the silvery tip of her tail wavered back and forth. It was her job, at least in part, to be aware of the stocks of the garden -- it was above and beyond her job to acquire things for the garden. All was in the name of improvement, and what she did to improve Salsola made her own standing better in the end.

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#6
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you don't know how much research i do for like.. every Isa and Gale post :|
wordcount ► 382

The woman actually considered his opinion carefully. He kept his look of surprise to himself, wondering if things were different here. Back home, they gave not a single care to his words of wisdom, even if they pertained to the fighting ring. He had once watched a gladiator, broad but small, advise a small fat man that his latest acquisition, a tall, thin boy, would do better after a few weeks with sturdy meals and hard training. The foolish fat man put the boy in with the others in group combat and found himself short one thin boy that had room for plenty of growth. Here, he expected nothing more than what he was used to. Regardless, he still managed to eye the woman in wonder for a moment before focusing on her question.


"Maybe. I don't know," he answered honestly, thinking hard about the plants he knew. There were so few and the ones he knew were the ones his sister knew so well. They were common garden plants and weeds back in Rome and he knew they were easy to find then. Here, though? He did not know. "Fennel, maybe. Find seeds. It's very weedy in Italy." He remembered it growing all over the place, and it was easy to find. "Too cold for marigolds, lemon. Basil could survive. Would have to watch carefully." He shrugged, remembering how easy those herbs grew in the ragged garden in their little plot in England. "Rosemary, maybe. I don't know."


Gale touched a patch of moist earth, feeling the dry and wet earth between his fingers before touching a leaf of mint. He pulled it away and crushed it beneath his fingers and sniffed. "Raspberry might be good. Easy to find, easy to grow, hard to control after it spreads. But good for body. Fruit can be drunk, good for bowels or angry stomachs. They taste good too. Leaves can be stewed for a tea good for running bowels and for enjoyment. Good for more too, if mixed with good melle." The slave rose stiffly, joints adjusting to his full height. "We can find bushes here, most likely. In old field, or at the edges of woods." The women used to go out to the woods to find wild bushes.


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#7
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(322) Lol, me too. FURIOUS GOOGLING, GO. Tbh that's why I like plant/animal lists and crap, they allow you to skip the googling part. CX


Draugr is by me!

Draugr caught and understood his look of wonder, although she held her tongue for the moment. There was no reason for her to value slaves' opinions -- most every education of her young life had thus far instructed her otherwise, in fact. Yet, she had learned from her other experiences that the quiet, with all their time to observe and receive input from the world, could contribute much in their own way. She had perhaps taught her mother this lesson -- though the woody brown Confidant would have hesitated to put it in such blunt terms as that.

The wolfdog listened with mounting disappointment, however, as the golden-hued slave listed the plants they might be able to find -- or not, as he seemed to think. Though her tail drooped with the disappointment, her gaze followed his movements as he tested the soil and a mint leaf with his fingers. His next words were more encouraging, and the wolfdog seemed more pleased with this answer. Her mind immediately wandered to the farmhouses on the opposite side of the territory -- it might be their best chance at finding these raspberries, though there were forests to the north of the garden that could be investigated first.

Berries, she said, agreeing. There are blue ones, they grow everywhere in the forest -- where they grow, nothing else survives. They choke everything else away, as you say these raspberries do. They are not grown here, because they are so many wild patches along these coasts. I have never seen red ones before, though. She thought raspberries must look rather like blueberries, just with a different color -- she could not know their shape was entirely different. If we can find them, perhaps we can put them near the blueberries? If they were difficult to control, like the lemon balm, this might be best -- and if the blueberries and raspberries could compete -- or even breed -- with one another, all the better.

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#8
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what the.. I didn't get email alerted of thisssssss what DD:
wordcount ► 322

Gale nodded his head along to her words and thought about what she described. Blueberries, no doubt about that. He racked his brain for a memory of what they would do, but he did not know if they were medicinal. They did, however, make jams and preserves that tasted phenomenal from the few licks he had been able to pilfer from the cook-slaves and servants. "I don't know. Maybe have healing property. Everything seems to. I don't remember what it is other than making good jam and juice." He did not know how to make the jam nor what the women had even put into it. He was not a cook; his hands ran red with blood whenever he ate a meal he was too lazy to build a fire for.


"If these berries are blue and round, then are blueberries. Silly name, stupid and obvious. But that is what they are. And I think are like raspberries maybe. Different shapes though. Look almost like grapes but not. In the shape of a strawberry with hollow center instead of white bitter flesh.." He furrowed his brows as he pent down and plucked out a small pebble from the soil. It was a bit bigger than a single seed on the raspberry. "These are like a single grape, attached together. If we find, you see and understand." He felt smug, superior to his masters with this simple knowledge. It would not last long he knew.


"We can try," he agreed at last, long after she had asked the question. "Maybe they work together. Maybe kill each other. Hopefully first choice." He dusted off his hands for the last time and looked with suddenly dull eyes at the woman. His usefulness was limited to them, that he understood. He knew some basic herblore, basic weavng, but his blood swam with a warrior's knowledge. "Domina wants to look for these berries?"


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#9
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(312) Board hates you. Yup.


Draugr is by Despi!

Draugr nodded as the golden-hued slave spoke. Everything did seem to have some kind of healing property, from the tiniest pale flower to the bark of the largest trees. Some things were less healing and more poison, but even poison could heal, at times. Removing a toxic presence, for instance, was one way a poison might heal by killing. The wolfdog listened with increasingly rapt attention as Gale described the raspberries, her image of them shifting with each new detail, becoming closer to the real thing. Perhaps Draugr's version of raspberries was just a little too large for the real thing, but this, too, settled closer to reality as he picked up a pebble, which she presumed to be something akin to the real size.

I understand, she said, though not with any offense in her tone; it was simple affirmation of her apparent understanding. If they did not find raspberries, perhaps she might identify them outside of Salsola and bring them home. She'd have to ascertain whether they were actually raspberries first, of course, but Draugr was confident in her own abilities to recognize potential food. She wanted these raspberries, and she was determined to find them. I would like to find them, yes, she said.

I will be better liked in Salsola for this achievement, and I don't believe in leaving anyone, slaves included, unrewarded for good work. The same as Draugr valued slaves for their minds, she also thought perhaps the happiest laborer was one most productive. By rewarding a slave -- not overmuch, as to avoid inducing laziness or entitlement -- one was providing motivations for further good behavior, and sometimes it was easier to do this than use the whip and chain. Do you know where they are likely to grow? It seems the blueberries prefer the forest, but raspberries -- maybe coast, river, or marsh?

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#10
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posts everywhur
wordcount ► 308

Gale bobbed his head in agreement with her, acknowledging her request that also was an order. They would have to work to find the plants, and if he knew slave masters at all, he would do all the work while the woman watched in the shade. That was how his sister was treated, at least. When the girls were too young to remember a word, or even understand them, she had said how she had been used whenever the young mistresses had needed something done. They never did anything themselves whenever a slave was there to do the work eagerly, or with a semblance of eagerness.


He gave the woman a blank smile at her offer of rewarding him. He hardly expected her to keep to her word, so his hopes were low. He didn't expect anything from her except whatever dignity he had left in his position. Maybe she would at least reward him with something for his niece, since he was no longer alone. His worry was not for his safety, but for his sister's last gift to him, or rather the last thing left she had asked him to take care of, even if she had not thought of them on her deathbed. In the end, it had been just for him.


Gale thought, then shook his head. He had already told her where they would be. "I think abandoned farms or forest edges are for the best. They like neglect, and they like places where it's easy to grow. I think. That's all i know about where they are." Gale bowed his head at the woman and then turned only slightly away. "Domina, where would you like for us to start?" He, at the end of the day, was at the beck and call of this woman, no matter what.


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#11
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Draugr is by Despi!

The wolfdog, upon listening to the golden-hued slave's description of the berries' preferred habitat, knew just where they might go. Her face brightened, pale purple eyes becoming alight with her excitement. The western edge of the territory, she said. Near the coast -- there are farmhouses there, too. She smiled at Gale and, without further ado, trotted off in the direction of the farmhouses. There wasn't a lot of thick forest around the farm, true enough, but the creeping western forest did have shrubbery abounds. Despite wracking her memory, Dra could not remember ever seeing red berries there -- but then again, she had never been looking for them before.

Her thoughts were rather absorbed in the finding of these berries, and so she did not speak to Gale as much as she might have under other circumstances. His accent intrigued her, along with the entirety of his appearance. His seeming intelligence, however, was the thing to most interest her -- there was quite the mind behind his seafoam-colored eyes, Draugr suspected. If she had anything at all to say about it, such resources would not go to waste within Salsola.

As they drew nearer the coast, her excitement faded and her thoughts focused on the present and her surroundings. The breeze off the bay was sharp and salty, carrying with it an earthen undertone, the muck-scent of stinking coastal mud. The slave kept pace with her, not allowing himself to lag. Glancing back toward him, Draugr offered a twitch of her lips as a smile, perhaps of apology. It's easier to get lost in thoughts than anywhere else on earth, she confided, certain of her statement's veracity.

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#12
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posts everywhur
wordcount ► 285

"If that is what Domina wishes," he said back at her, letting the simpering subordinate peek through. He did not want to step on the toes of his mistress or her daughter, especially when it was his duty to obey. The Gladiator followed behind the brown and black woman, a stark contrast with his golden pelt and mane. He felt as though he were the sun following behind, or perhaps it was simply his vanity. He would never presume to trespass in the Lord's domain.


The woman before him seemed happy now, as though her spirits had been lifted up. She seemed cheerful, easily excessive when considering this was such a mundane chore. Gale found himself smiling serenely at the back of her head as he thought about how excited Evangaline and he had been as pups helping to look for berries and other fruits. Even then he had been happy to go hunting for plants. It was like nothing had changed and he was still under his Roman masters' thumbs. The only difference was the climate he found here.


Draugr's comment startled him out of his warm memories, leaving him to blink at the woman for a moment before nodding absently in agreement. "Can't die in your head, though, Domina," he countered, a tight smile appearing on his lips. "Lost in thoughts means you lose head in a fight. Deadly." Being a gladiator meant he had to have all of his essence present during a fight, or else he would find himself meeting his maker sooner rather than later.
Clearing his throat, he gestured to a copse of trees, thick and with thorny bushes sticking out here and there. "There, Domina?"

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#13
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-- dis post r poops Sad


Draugr is by me!

Draugr's only fights had been during the attacks -- and even then, she hadn't really fought. She had harried and harassed while her mother did most of the fighting. The wolfdog considered, and nodded her agreement a moment later. Thoughts and fights are incompatible. The earthen-hued canine wanted to ask him about his fights -- where he'd fought, who he'd fought, how many times -- but the golden-hued canine was motioning toward some scraggly-looking trees. Most all of the forestry around Salsola looked scraggly. The marshy, salty soil was not conducive to growing the thick woods of the more southerly lands.

The hybrid trotted toward the aforementioned area, sharp gaze roving over the bushes. She spied the thorns and was careful to avoid touching them, though she quickly figured out the sheer number of them meant this was nearly impossible. They were, however, thankfully rather short, and could not penetrate thick fur. She was careful where it came to the paw pads and claws of her hands, however, but soon found herself withdrawing with a cerise berry.

This? she asked, offering it over to the slave. She dared not eat anything she wasn't positively certain about -- the wolfdog had just enough knowledge of dangerous plants to have this deep-seated avoidance of the unknown.

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#14
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posts everywhur
wordcount ► 260

The mistress approached the bush and carefully weeded her hands through the thorns of another plant. But when she pulled out the berry and handed it to the slave, he looked at it in his hand, eyes wide. This was not a raspberry; it was something else entirely. They fit the description he had given here, of little balls but it was definitely not a raspberry. Were he of an artistic mind, he would have drawn her them but he was not. Instead he pulled the cluster of berries on stalks and sniffed. The smell was not deadly but they still smelled faintly of the rose-like perfume the flowers exuded in their prime. But the scent was now stale, like a dead rose wilting in the hot sun.


"No, Domina," he muttered gravely, rolling a single berry between his thumb and finger, letting the rest fall to the ground. "This is a veleno bacca. Deadly in right amounts. A few of these can kill a child," he said as he gestured to the one between his finger tips. The woman wanted a poison, and she had found herself one. He had heard of pups eating these berries, or bringing home branches to show parents. Plenty were beaten for bringing something like that into the home, especially if the child is a slave. It could be considered an attempt at poisoning the household. "Deadly in right amounts," he said softly, squeezing the berries between his fingers to let the bloody juices seep out. "Every part fatal, but berries more so."

Image credited to RomeCabs. Table style inspired by Kitty.

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#15
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Draugr is by Libri!

Her pale purple eyes studied the cerise berry in Gale's hand, committing the berry's shape and size and color to memory. There were many berries in the garden, and some shared this one's color. The shape, though, seemed to be unique -- at least, Draugr thought so. That was until the golden-hued slave inspected the object more closely and spoke, introducing it as another berry entirely. Vague surprise dawned on Draugr's face, though it disappeared quickly enough and became a look of near yearning: yearning for knowledge, of course.

The wolfdog's smile was slow, and there was no fear written on her face. Some were squeamish about holding such objects in their hands, as if afraid the poison would seep through their skin and penetrate their body that way. They must be eaten to be poisonous? the hybrid inquired. There was no coyness to her question -- the curiosity was there, clearly, and perhaps a little bit of yearning. She had seen death by claw and fang, the most feral and ancient way to kill. What of these poison things? What death would they produce? She marveled that two plants with such different effects might look so similar.

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#16
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here's the link so you can know for yo self though i think you probably already looked it up yourself cx
wordcount ► 302

Draugr was completely interested in the plant he had found for her, and her intent looks were all for more information. He watched her for a moment, then shifted his gaze back from his evaluation. He was silent as he thought, fighting to remember the details of the plant he had heard, though they were few and a long while ago in his memory. "Kill... I believe so. But will take many, many to kill full sized. I know children that could die of it easily with a few berries." Most often it was the children, who thought they had found a snack to try behind their parent's backs. There had been one who had been severely poisoned and had died shortly there after, but he couldn't even remember their name or age, but that it had not been a full grown adult, or even a yearling.


Suddenly the slave shook his head and dropped the berry from his hand. He took a step back and sighed, staring at the bush. "Maybe can refine for strength, but a few might disorient or damage an adult. I don't know. If Domina will forgive me, I would not like to try it." Raspberries were what they needed and he wanted to be away from the toxic growth. He would have been happy to find the real berries, even if their flesh was still an ecru color that was not yet delectable. "Does Domina want to take this bush instead?" he inquired softly, having heard already of the poisonous nature of the pack he had been enslaved to. His only saving grace was that he was considered useful rather than harmful to the group. Or else he would have found himself eating a paste of these berries and dying at their feet.


Image credited to RomeCabs. Table style inspired by Kitty.

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#17
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325 8D thanks broskies


Draugr is by Kiri!

The dark-hued woman considered the golden hybrid. Perhaps she was a fool to trust in slaves, but she did not think they would betray. Some might, perhaps -- the harder slaves, the ones that had been more difficult to break, surely. But there was no doubt in Draugr's mind such a matter as this would not be a playful one for a slave. It was an easy thing for a master to test a new plant on a slave, and should the slave die in the attempt, the master might even be considered blameless in Salsola's eyes. In any case, she believed all that Gale told her and was disappointed when he spoke of the berries' inefficiency at true poison.

He dropped the berry and stepped away from the plant, and spoke of it as if it was more dangerous than he'd said. Dra considered this and pondered if the bush might hold a particular meaning for Gale -- perhaps another daughter, dead of ingesting it? Though it was her right to inquire, she held the question at bay and scorned her curiosity. No, she said. If I am to have a poison, I would like a strong one. She smiled, and added more quietly -- as if fearful of being overheard, though there were none in their vicinity, thank you. Your knowledge of these things is an asset to me. And, by extension, Salsola -- since all she knew was given over to the pack in whatever way she could. But it was more important to her, personally, and she would not have had the rest of the thistle kingdom sharing stories of her closeness with slaves.

The wolfdog did not linger on this and instead turned, moving off to explore further in search of raspberries. Her pale eyes roved over the bay, though she wondered if all such bushes would be filled with the poisonous berries rather than the sweet and useful raspberries.

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#18
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monkshood it says it doesn't grow in N.S. but I feel like we can fub it >>;
wordcount ► 343

Poison dealers and murderers, that's what he had been forced to serve. His fists clenched slightly, but then relaxed. Romans had killed more brutally than this more often than not. Poison was for suicide and honorable deaths. Prisoners of war and slaves were given to the sword or the axe, or if they were really unlucky, the noose. Here it was probably better that he behaved; he was not a gladiator here, and he did not try to go out of his way to antagonize anyone. All he wanted was peace and he would have it even if he was in a sort of hell.


"Monkshood," he said suddenly. It was not that common a plant in his home, he remembered, but it was one that he had been warned against in the Isles. It was a pretty flower but more toxic than anything he had ever known about. "Poisonous, very. Shouldn't even touch it really. It's very bad, maybe find it here? Looks like.. a hooded figure, comes in blues of a sort." That would make her happy, wouldn't it? A deadly flower, beautiful and lovely, would be exactly what she wanted. It was no berry to eat, but it could be brewed into a deadly brew. Clever cooks could put it into a pot of food and let it kill those who were ill-fated to ingest it; they would die without a single breath of air in their lungs as the plant closed their throats. If they were lucky, they wouldn't scratch out their own throats eager for air. Or so he had been told.


Gale peered at the woman, knowing that being useful was what a slave ought to aspire towards, but he felt as though he had just given her something of more value than he should have given her. The baneberry was enough to kill a child, wasn't that enough of a deadly tool? "But I don't know where it could be found or what it looks like from experience."


Image credited to RomeCabs. Table style inspired by Kitty.

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#19
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-- freetown maybe? they can find raspberries for now but Gale planted a good idea in her head (pun unintended but meh, it can stay)


Draugr is by Requiem!

The dark woman's ears twisted in the direction of the accented tones, and she caught the name of the plant with an indrawn breath. It even sounded deadly. Her excitement mounted as Gale carried on to tell her of the poison's deadliness -- something so strong it ought not even be touched? The wolfdog frowned hesitantly, glancing from Gale back in the direction of the garden. Surely such a plant would need to be roped away from the rest, and what if some foolish person stumbled upon them? No, it would be better for Draugr to try and grow them on her lonesome -- perhaps atop her roof, where not even she went.

Monkshood, she repeated. We can't find something we can't identify, she said, shrugging dark-hued shoulders. Maybe we'll find a trader who deals in seeds. It's happened before. Eris was one to gloat about the seeds of some exotic she'd obtained off a trader. The hybrid returned to the hunt, throwing her nose into trailing after the raspberries. Sweetness was a rare scent in the stinging salt scent of Salsola. It seemed to Draugr difficult to smell anything beneath the scent of the bay's breeze.

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#20
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403
yeah, probably about time they stop screwing around lmfao

Draugr threw off his suggestion, merely that they would consult a trader. He let out a very soft sigh of relief, knowing that the simply fact he only knew of the plant had lessened their ability to find it. He did not even know if it had grown here, but they would always be able to find someone brave and skilled enough to handle something quite so deadly. Gale nodded at her, letting the smile that was twitching at the corners of his lips ease away. Monkshood belonged here but he did not want to be the one who found something so nasty for his masters, whom he resented and almost hated.


Maybe he'd like this after some time, but it was such an uncertainty now. He could hardly forget his happiness to be alone and free, though he had longed for family that he no longer had. At least Yvette was here to keep him company even if they were enslaved together. So far, it was not quite so demanding, even if he still gazed out at the horizon or at the sea with a longing to run. But responsibility held him back, not to the pack but to his sister's daughter. Maybe they would free her; she was born free and she could thrive free, as well.


The woman moved off from the idea of poisons and seemed to sniff at the air. Raising his head, he took a long inhale. Gale sincerely doubted his sense of smell was any better than the woman's, but he tried anyway. There was nothing sweet hiding behind the salty smell of water and marsh. Snorting, the golden hued male walked to another copse of bushes against the remains of a red wall. Or was it grey? It was hard to tell with the pigments faded like an old fresco. He saw a glint of red - maybe that was why he thought it was a red wall - and pulled aside some longer evergreen branches. Red raspberries shone at him, most of them starting to red with a few still quite green. "Domina, I've found a small bush." It was small, with only maybe a few mouthfuls of berries, but it was a start. "Look," he said, pulling out a berry, sweet and soft in his fingers. He might have been reprimanded for the order, but he was smiling at the fruit.


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