This follows from last week’s post. (The love potion in question ate away at some stones.)
(A bit more background about this story. It was started to go along with a D20tabletop RPG that a friend was creating. It’s currently on a back burner but he told me to go ahead and have fun with it.
A word about the characters. Their race was described to me as “Jamaican rat people.” Okay, well, not quite in those words. I kind of picture them sort of like Splinter from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but with a Jamaican culture.
“What did you put in this, you little fleabite?”
“Only what you gave me to put in it,” she retorted.
“Hm.” He held the vial up to the sun and squinted through it. “Some sort of poison, I think,” he muttered, talking more to himself than her. Stoop shouldered, with a muzzle gone gray and whiskers that were nearly translucent, his watery eyes were still sharp. “Bah! This is no good! I sell this in my shop I go to jail!” He glared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Only what I gave you to put in it?”
He took the spoon from her and sniffed it then carefully poked the little bit of liquid on it with one claw, then sniffed that and cautiously licked it, only to spit it out again. “This is going to take some time,” he said. “But I think the jellyfish tentacles were too old.” He glared at her as if trying to blame her for the lack, then glanced at the sky. “It’s going to storm tonight,” he said, apparently at random. “In the morning, take some buckets and collect new jellyfish tentacles and try again tomorrow. Don’t get stung.” He turned and started back toward the rear door of his shop. “And don’t expect to get paid for today.”