ROLEPLAY

Many thanks to Lhyrs who beta-ed this for me. Any mistakes left are my own.

Warning: Some disturbing themes later on. Death of characters. Also, I'm not a native English speaker (comments/corrections welcomed, be it on spelling, grammar, phrasing or general structure of the text). Finally, I wasn't ingame for the Exode event, so if I got anything wrong, do not hesitate to correct me.

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Departure
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When her mother entered their small house, wide eyes filled with fright, the child knew immediately that something was wrong.
She watched the middle aged woman as she crossed the room at a brisk pace, collecting their few possessions and packing them in a ragged bag with frantic moves. As she did so, she addressed her daughter with as calm and reassuring a voice as she could muster, but the child wasn't fooled: "Get ready, honey. We're going on a little trip."
"Where?" asked the confused and increasingly worried child. She had only seen her mother in such a state once before, when she had lost her job at the seamstress workshop because someone had wrongly accused her of stealing from her employer, and her mother had said that they might have to move out. For a while after that, they had had to sleep in uncomfortable places, and there was less food than usual.
"To a great place with no kitins. You'll see, it'll be like going on an adventure, we'll search for the promised land" the adult replied with what she hoped appeared as a warm and confident smile. She was trying to appeal to her daughter's adventurous side, which she knew the reckless child had in spares, usually a great cause of worry for her.
To her dismay, the eight year old didn't jump for joy at the news. Her Brinn was a perceptive child, she knew, and she could sense the fear the adult was desperately trying to hide. Admittedly, the woman had never been so terrified in her life. It had been decided that all inhabitants of the Kingdom were to go on a journey to Pyr, and from there to a safe place the kitins wouldn't reach. They were running away, the kitins could attack at any moment now. Once again, homins were at the nonexistent mercy of the dreadful creatures. The enormity of the situation only now reached her, and it was all she could do to avoid breaking down in tears. They had lost.
With trembling hands, she put a tattered shawl on the child's shoulders, checking and arranging her attire so that she would be ready for the trek. The shawl wasn't necessary yet, but Jena only knew how hot the the desert sun would burn, once they reached the Fyros border.
She kissed her only family on the forehead while standing up, struggling to withhold the tears that had started to blur her vision. She spoke in a trembling whisper:
"Come on, honey, let's go."

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Journey
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Eight year old Brinn watched with wide eyes the enormous wall of Pyr in front of her, her fatigue all but forgotten now that a new source of wonder was presented to her. Around them, homins of all races were assembled in a confusing flurry of activity. She had never seen so many different sorts of people in one place. All were weary, some still shocked or sad, others determined.
Seeing her daughter once again captivated by their surroundings, the Matis smiled, thankful for the distraction. The journey had been difficult for both mother and child, every muscle seemed to hurt and the heat was scorching. Of all places, why did their exile have to take them to the Desert? She worried that some Fyros might assault them. Life had always been difficult for their poor family, she knew not to expect help from most people. Now, more than ever, they were in a hostile environment. Would laws here protect Matis from the local population? Would laws even be upheld, in such a dire situation? Who would waste time to help two poor refugees, two nobodies, in the land of their secular enemies? But the Fyros, like everybody else, seemed to have better things to do than pay attention to them. They too, were preparing to abandon their home.
And so, they went on.

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Thieft
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In the hustle and bustle of the recently populated refuge, huddled up in a corner, barely visible between crates and bags not yet unpacked, was the small shivering form of a Matis child. She had been sitting here for hours now, ever since the procession of refugees had been transported there. No one seemed to pay attention to her, no one seemed to even notice her presence. Dried tears had left tracks on her cheeks and she stared at nothing, immobile. All she could see was a repeat of the last few hours before reaching safety, again and again.

She had been exhausted by the long trek. She had had no idea how long they had been walking. Her mother hadn't been able to carry her often, since she was tired out herself from carrying their bag. Their cortege had been attacked several times already, by kitins or other hostile creatures she had never seen before, with names she couldn't remember.
Suddenly, there had been cries, soon followed by sounds of battle, alien roars and screams of pain. It was deafening. Everybody was running, fighting, shouting. She heard someone swear loudly in a foreign language not very far from her. She thinks she heard the name "kitin" at some point. She was knocked over, she couldn't tell by who or what. She had no idea what was happening, her blood was pounding in her ears, her heart hammering in her ribcage, her Mom, where was her Mom?
She couldn't recall exactly what had happened then. Panic had filled her, there was a lot of noise. People were running, she had been dragged along and somehow she had ended up here, in the refuge.
At first, she had wandered around the place, calling for her mother. Sometimes, a homin would stop and look at her, but none of them knew where her mother was, all they did was look at her with pity and shake their head sadly before going their own way. Everyone was tired, injured, grieving. She was scared and she couldn't find her Mom.
Eventually, despair and exhaustion had caught up with her, and she had sagged down near a crate and cried herself to sleep.

She was awake, now, had been for a while. She had no energy left for crying, and no idea what to do. She wanted her mother to find her and everything would be okay. She wanted anyone to find her and help her. She was hungry, but she was used to it - they hadn't been able to eat everyday before the journey anyway. She didn't know what to do.
So she waited.
For hours she stared apathetically, wondering when someone would come to her. She still hoped that her mother would find her, but she knew the looks that were given to her earlier - she wasn't stupid, she had heard people talk, seen them cry for the dead after the attack.
Still, she waited.
Hours turned to days, her belly started to ache, but nobody took notice of her. Sometimes, she would fall asleep, waking up disoriented until she remembered where she was. How she was. Alone.
Then she would resume her waiting.
She had never felt so weak in her life, she didn't think she would be able to stand up even if she wanted to. She knew she had to wait, but she wasn't sure for what any more. Was it someone? Yes, someone was supposed to help her. Help her how? Who? No one was paying her any attention. Did anyone know her here? No, probably not, she decided. So what did that mean? What was she to do? How long had she been here anyway? Her belly hurt so much. She didn't think she had ever spent so much time without food. Before The Journey, even during hard times, her mother would make sure she had at least something to eat once a day, occasionally every other day. She wasn't picky, she wasn't the kind to complain, she knew it never helped anyway. But now it hurt. And she was so weak. Was she dying? Was that how it felt? Would she just die here, without anyone paying attention?
Something in her started to burn. A warmth that gave her energy. It was probably something akin to wrath, though she didn't stop to examine it. All of this, it wasn't fair. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She didn't want it to be like that. She felt like screaming but she didn't think she had the strength. Her features, that had remained apathetic so far, twisted into a frown. Her empty eyes, now ablaze with anger and frustration, started to watch her surroundings again. She looked at the people who were passing her without a glance, and she hated them for it.

She noticed a Fyros with a cart of seeds, and her stomach growled. She startled at the foreign sensation: it had stopped doing that for a while, now that she thought about it. The seeds wouldn't even have been considered food before The Journey. Now, she couldn't help wishing she had some to eat. For the first time in days, she stood. Slowly, on shaking legs, she walked up to the Fyros-with-the-cart. She wondered absently how he had managed to bring it here, with how difficult The Journey was. Again, not fair. Fyros-with-the-cart finally noticed her approaching. Immediately, his expression turned into a grimace. "Don't you get near my merchandise, you disgusting wretch! Fyrak! You stink worse than the dead!" Brinn started at the harsh words, the first that were addressed to her in days. Strangely, she didn't feel like crying. Resentment was the only thing left in her, or so it seemed. Head hung low with disappointment, she turned on her feet, ready to walk back to her crate. Abruptly, one of the wheels of the cart broke. The thing probably had suffered too much damage during The Journey, and now all of the seeds were on the ground. Fyros-with-the-cart swore loudly, the commotion attracting curious passers-by, a few of them offering their help. Soon a small crowd was gathered.
Brinn wordlessly stared at the scene, frozen in thoughts. Once again, no one was paying her any attention. Silently, she crawled to the cart, and quickly helped herself for as much of the seeds as she could hold within her ragged shirt. Then she turned on her heels and ran away before anyone noticed her.

Later, she found a quiet place behind an out-of-the-way tent to savour "food" for the first time since The Journey. She felt better. She hadn't even known she still had the ability to run, drained as she was. The rush of adrenalin had helped, too. And now, her stomach was filled.
She stopped and though about her current situation. Nobody had come. Nobody cared. She would have died in her corner, had she not stood up and taken the seeds from the nasty Fyros. Now she felt so much better.
Nobody came, and nobody would. But she could still take the matter into her own hands, and do what she must. She didn't need anybody. She would be all right.

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Friend
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It was market day in the Refuge. Among the activity of the crowd, ten year-old Brinn was observing. She had had no luck recently; getting caught last week trying to steal some goods from the stock of a greedy Trykette was only the worst part. She had panicked at the idea of being arrested, punished, who knew what would have happen then? The Trykette looked very, very angry. While trying to escape, trying to find anything that would help her, she had somehow grabbed a dagger that was lying amongst her victim's possessions on a small table. When the victim - who looked very much like a crazed predator at this point - had lunged at her, the Matis had screamed a small cry, closed her eyes and... when she had dared opening them again, she was sitting on her bruised back and the Trykette was lying on the floor. That was her first murder.
She had been so shocked that she had forgotten to take the goods with her when she had run away. She had run, and run, and eventually, had come to, and taken in her surroundings. She normally never stopped paying attention to her surroundings. Thankfully, it seems her feet knew to take her to safety, even when her mind blacked out. She had stood there for a while, still trembling.

She hadn't been able to eat much, this past week. She had been too out of it, her few attempts at stealing food often ended badly, let alone trying to get anything else; she had had trouble getting the image of the dead Trykette out of her mind. And now, she was hungry.
She noticed a young, kind-looking Fyros adult at a stand. He was smiling at every vendor he talked to, taking the time to acknowledge every one of them even when he didn't buy anything, and - more importantly - she had noticed him giving a few more dappers than necessary when he bought those two nice rings. A kind and wealthy man, generous with his dappers on top of it. He'll do, She thought as she watched him put away his newly acquired (but not for long if she had say in the matter) rings. She chose to play the card of the girl running away from a slave trader. With the confusion and indigence caused by the Exodus, greedy homins always found a way to take advantage of other's misery, and some had found interest in this activity. Her act worked, and as she dried her fake tears from her cheeks, looking at the Fyros going back his own way, oblivious to the two missing rings now glittering in the palm of her hand, she smiled. Finally, she was getting back in the swing of things.

"You are talented. You look young, probably around the same age as us, yet you did well with that Fyros." said a child's voice on her left. Despite the youthfulness of the voice, the words were sharp and the last one had been almost spat, so full of disgust that Brinn knew before turning around what she would see. There stood two young Matis, well dressed, clean, standing proudly and looking at her. It took her a moment to process the fact that these obviously Noble children were addressing her. Not to insult, not even to mock or despise, and definitely not to hurt her. They were complimenting her. In their eyes Brinn could only see... interest? That was a first. She was good at escaping attention, but those two had seen her stealing, she had better listen to what they wanted.
As the unknown girl kept speaking, Brinn watched them closely. They looked young, very young, but their manners and speech were those of much older people than herself. Nobles! It was hard to give these two an age. The girl wanted a plant that she obviously could afford - or so Brinn thought, they were Nobles after all, and in her mind they had to be filthy rich - but she still asked Brinn to steal it for her. The thief realized she was being tested. She did not know what to make of it, but the rich girl had dappers, and so Brinn did it. She had had a terrible week, and she was getting a bit desperate for dappers and food. When she came back with the plant, her deed accomplished, and the Noble threw the dappers on the ground, she was on her knees in the blink of an eye collecting the promise of a stomach filled for several days - and that was not even counting the two jewels she had previously taken from the Fyros !

As she stood up, she looked back at the two children, wondering what would happen now. They were quick to hide their disgust at her manners, though Brinn had noticed it, but they didn't comment on it. If anything, they looked pleased. Something passed between the two girls then, and without any of them realizing it, the spark of a new-found complicity had just ignited, born from a strange kind of mutual respect. Relaxing a fraction, Brinn realized she was not in trouble. Somehow she knew that, despite her status, the one she would later know as Isildya was all right.

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Note: I'll post a French translation on the French RP Forum when/if I find the time.
The last part is common with Isildya's background which can be read here for her own point of view (and more background on Isildya's character). It's in French only. I considered translating it, but can't find time/energy to do it. Maybe later.

Additional warning: this hasn't been beta'ed. If you notice any mistake, wierd phrasing, or anything that doesn't make sense, do not hesitate to let me know (by e-mail preferably, so as not to pollute this thread).

Note: Part of the events that are summarised in the first part of this text can (or soon will) be found on Isildya's thread. I'm sorry for not translating it, blame my lazyness and my lack of time.

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Trade
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It was a beautifull day in Aeden Aqueous, it really was. Birds were singing peacefully in the calm afternoon, the sun was bright and the dust was warm. If it weren't for the three pitifull Trykers pacing up and down their pen in the Slavers camp, it would have made for a perfect holiday lucio.
Brinn eyed her two compagnons before turning towards the slaves. Not for the first time this day, she cursed mentally. Things were going from bad to worse, and she was losing control of the situation. Her paranoia hated that. Her paranoia being what had kept her alive all these years, she tended to listen to it. She tried to understand where things had gone wrong. "The client, she thought, it has all started with this damnable client."

After eight years in the Refuge, homins had finally come back to the New Lands, Brinn, Isildya and her cousin Gabrielo amongst them. Things had been going all right for the sixteen year-old, the confusion of the Return helping her in her stealing, swindling, dealing, and general tricking of any homin naive enough to believe her harmless. She had lost some of her "commercial" contacts though, with the splitting of the communities, each gone to their respective country. The black market would take some time to adapt to the new society.
She had been lounging about near Yrkanis marketplace, occasionnally trying to sell seeds with incredible properties - if you believed her word - at an exagerately high price and sometimes discreetly snatching a few of the customers possessions in the process. That's when she had seen him.
His attire is what had caught her attention first. He was too well dressed to be a common refugee, but not in the extravagant way of most merchants or Nobles. His equipment screamed quality as much as sobriety, and his graceful demeanour was full of self confidence. She thought she could make profit from him, one way or another. So she approached him.
However, it quickly became apparent that he was interested in the more serious part of her business. Brinn had sold drugs before, even sometimes tried it, though she knew not to fall into this habit: she had seen what addiction reduced some homins to, had even made profit from them. She felt too much need to stay in control to let herself indulge in this sweet escape, as much as she had sometimes wished she could. Her survival instincts wouldn't let her fall into this trap. So, when the customer started to doubt her ability to find what he was looking for, she had assured him with her usual facade of confidence that she could.

Now, that was her first mistake, she thought as she stepped into the slaves' pen. "Foolish girl, you really are out of your depth now, congratulations!" she chided herself.
Goo. He was looking for a drug made from goo. She had had to supress the gasp that had nearly escaped her lips when he had said the word. She should have back off right there and then but oh no, she had kept her confident smile, and said "I'll see what I can do".
She could have still ended this trade when she had met him again, could have said it was not possible, but her friend Isildya who was into plants and poisons, had implied she was considering working with goo anyway and could try to replicate what the customer wanted. Also the client had promised a ridiculous amount of dappers, money she knew he had. So the scammer had started bargaining. It had been a lot of work, trying to convince him to advance money, trekking to the Desert - again! - to settle a laboratory away from Yrkanis (Isildya's need to protect the Kingdom from any threat, including goo, was very strange to Brinn but she was used to it) all this time keeping her friend and the client as ignorant from each other as possible. This homin was a bigger fish than what she normally worked with. He was trouble, she could sense it by then, he made her increasingly nervous every time they met, but it was too late to back off. Instead, she had tried to protect her friend as much as possible. Isildya, though much more mature than herself in many ways, was naive when it came to the nature of homins, too trusting for the thief's comfort. Brinn knew: she had seen the worst they could do. She had hidden her friend's identity from the client, just like he had hidden his own from her. She had prevented them from meeting each other, because mask or no, even without Isildya's name, he could harm them easily if he wanted to, and she was responsible for dragging her friend into this mess.

It had worked for awhile, until came the matter of the ...test subjects. Isildya needed homins to try the drugs on, and the customer had said he would provide some. Brinn had had to hide her grimace of distaste; she had never dealt with homin traffic, and the thought of her friend's experiments had always disturbed her, but it was the first time she was asked to take part. What the client hadn't said was that he would not deliver them: they, Isildya, had to follow him to the "subjects".
Let it be said that the scammer was not happy with the arrangement. First, it meant they had to follow blindly a dangerous homin whose identity she still did not know, and trust that he wasn't pulling one on them. That alone was enough to put her on edge, but it also meant the client would meet Isildya. That was inacceptable, even though she knew her friend did not share her worries. The botanist was sometimes too confident and naive for her own good. So Brinn had tried all she could to convince the client, but he would not give in. They had to come to the subjects, or do without.

And here she was, in the Slavers camp, in the company of both a dangerous mysterious man and her best friend, preparing to administer poison to a frightened Trykette. Of course, it had to be Trykers. For reasons incomprehensible to Brinn, Isildya was terrified by this race, by their too wide eyes in their to small face. So she had given the samples to her, and asked that she make the slaves swallow it. For what seemed to be the hundredth time this day, the thief cursed herself, cursed the client and cursed the whole predicament.
She made the first two Trykers swallow the two samples while Isildya took notes in her notebook. The client then asked about her observations.
"Have you tried the original sample? There is still one guinea pig."
The scientist took the sample that never left her neck, and threw it to her accomplice. Brinn caught it and administered it to the last subject, a bald and skinny Trykette.
She quickly withdrew, glad to be done with it, and took back her place between the client and her friend. She once again supressed a shudder when the Trykette started to convulse, eyes rolling into their sockets, whimpering pitifully before dying with foam at her mouth. That was what the client wanted to use as a drug?

She stared incredulously while Isildya calmly took more notes. The botanist tilted her notebook to let her friend read it: "The concentration in goo is higher, as I thought, but I still don't understand what he wants to do with it". Her friend's calm was a small relief; Brinn, for her part, was strugling to hide her mental state from the audience. She was alarmed when Isildya started to voice her concern to the client. Uh-oh, bad idea. It was never good to question your customers' motives, the less you knew, the better. She didn't interrupt, though, not willing to argue with her friend in front of the client. She had to admit that she was interested in the answer, too.
"I want an ersatz. A substance that would offer a part of their ecstasy."
"They", Brinn knew, was referring to the marauder clan that produced the original drug, "the black sap" as it was called. They kept the process to create it a close secret, and they refused to even trade the poison. The client had briefly mentioned them once before. Brinn had no intention to mess with that crowd. To think their client was considering defying marauders was frightening: either he had a lot of power at his disposal, or he was insane. She'd rather not think he was both: that would be down right terrifying. While she poundered these thoughs, her two compagnons went on discussing the desired effects of the drug. Brinn was startled when Isildya suddenly stood up with an annoyed exclamation:
"This test was useless!" The scientist turned to face her friend and added: "The demonstration was intended for us." Brinn turned her eyes on the homin; Isildya, believing her friend didn't understand, explained: "Only someone who has experienced it before could tell us if we're going somewhere with these samples."
Brinn didn't think the client was stupid. The implications of what Isildya had just said were disturbing. She kept staring at the masked homin as he went on talking about the drug:
"This substance opens a door to a new level of conciousness... It is the reason why "Le Clan de la Sève Noire"(*) is so charismatic."
Brinn then interrupted him: "Hearing you, one would think you admire them. Why don't you go and join them?" It wasn't conductive to good business to try to convince your customer to get their merchandise from another source, she knew, but she was increasingly suspicious of the way this specific client was talking about the marauder clan. While he was acting condescending towards everyone and everything else, he seemed to respect them. Admittedly, you had to respect a power such as theirs, whether you were friend or foe, but that wasn't the point.
The homin took his time, speaking carefully, and that in itself was setting her mental alarms off.
"Some of my convictions wouldn't suit theirs. And marauders are dangerous, even when you are one yourself. Some of them are... disconcerting."
Even when you are one yourself. Brinn replied before she could help herself: "As you are yourself?"
The client then burst out laughing. Somehow, the sound was not reassuring.
"You are very inquisitive, for a simple thieft. As you wish" he said, and Brinn once again cursed at herself for asking unneccesary questions. She didn't want to know the answer anymore, the doubted she would like what she found out. At her side, Isildya took her hand and asked to please leave this wretched place. Brinn tightened her hold on her friend's hand to reassure her, and her hold on her dagger to reassure herself. The homin went on: "I conduct business with these free and powerful homins. I have too much "official business" to join them without starting over, but I almost envy their freedom and indifference towards self-proclaimed authorities." Again with the strangely admirative speech.
It was only when Isildya started asking questions again that things turned really bad.

"You have already taken some, haven't you?" Isildya's tone was genuinely curious, and Brinn recognised it as the one she took every time something had caught her scientific interest. Her friend always seemed to loose any feeling when that happened, only cold curiosity remained. The thieft gritted her teeth, knowing they were walking on the edge, having already asked more questions than they should. She didn't know how long the client's patience would run, but she doubted it would last much longer. Knowing too much could only bring them trouble anyway. The defensive answer they recieved convinced her they had reached the end of their questionning time:
"What if I had?"
The scientist' expression turned into one of fascination and ammusement: "Then become a tester! You do want your ersatz, don't you?"
Brinn turned to her friend, stunned: "What?!" She silently begged her with her eyes, to stop playing this game with the dangerous man. This was madness. But the frightened girl who had asked her a few minutes before to leave this place had disapeared, replaced by the scientist trying to find a way to create a new poison.
When the homin answered, Brinn's blood turned cold.

The masked man pointed at her, and simply asked Isildya: "Why not her?"

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(*) Litterally: "The Clan of the Black Sap". I've chosen to leave it untranslated, since it's their proper name.

Additional warning: Un-betaed.

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Drug
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Brinn didn't even have the time to protest at the suggestion - being used as a guinea pig for some experimental goo-based drug that had just killed a homin right in front of her eyes was definitely not part of the plan - for Isildya immediatly shouted in anger:
"No way! This thing affects the mind!"
Forget the mind! What about the low survival rate? The scammer watched worriedly the two bargaining - and when had it become Isildya's job to bargain with the customer?
"What guarantee do I have that it won't be normal poison?" was the calm, reply from the client. The part of Brinn's mind that was not frozen in shock at the terrible turn of events noted with slight ammusement that he was as paranoid as her. After all, why would they try to kill the person who was supposed to pay them for their hard work? Although, the idea seemed more and more appealing to the young thieft, if only to get rid of this whole mess.
The poisoner gestured in the direction of the Trykers. "Share with them!" She then took her last test sample from her bag, and showed it to the client: "This one is stronger than the three previous ones."
This caused the homin to pause in thoughts for a moment. Brinn did not like his answer one bit:
"Let's play a game..."

Isildya glanced at Brinn before throwing the sample at the homin's feet. "What do you mean?"
"This" he took a small flask from within his clothes "is capable of slightly diluting goo product's effects. Brinn will take some of your sample, then some of my thinner. If your drug is anything close to what I'm looking for, she won't die. If it's poison, the thinner won't save her."
Isildya looked at her, thoughtfull. "Why her?"
Brinn was getting annoyed with the two people talking as if she was not there. Her mood was down right murderous, the day had been terrible and was getting worse by the minute. She had absolutely no intention of drinking the sample, and she had to admit she was getting scared by the turn of events. And when scared, Brinn tended to bite.
The client replied with a smirk in his voice: "Why not her?"
The thieft opened her mouth, ready to protest vehemently, when she felt something tugg at her sleeve. Isildya was showing her her notebook, in which she had written another message. Brinn blanched. She spoke immediatly:
"I'll do it!!"
This seemed to surprise both homins. The client seemed suspicious - at least, as much as someone wearing a mask could look suspicous - and Isildya perplexed. The poisoner spoke quickly: "Wait, if she takes it, then so will you!"
This apparently suited him, for he nodded. "I will be able to tell you if it is close to what I am looking for."

Brinn swallowed. Mentally, she was screaming. What had she just agreed to? But those terrible words written on the notebook kept dancing in front of her eyes: "If I take it, I have more chances at survival".
She could not, would not let her best friend take it. She had always counted on herself, never trusted anyone, never needed anyone. But she now realised that she did, in fact, trust Isildya, that she did not want to lose her one and only friend. She was the one that had dragged the young Noble into this den of ragus, and she would not let her be harmed by these beasts. This was her world, not Isildya's, never Isildya. Her friend was stubborn, she knew she had to act quickly to prevent her from swallowing the drug, and before she had had time to think of a better way, she had spoken her agreement to the client's wishes. She thought about the botanist's sense of sacrifice that made her keep "rule number three" (*) on her at all times, and she smiled a bitter smile. She had never understood Isildya when she said she would rather die than endanger the Kingdom, but there she was now, ready to risk her own life to protect her friend. The irony of the situation didn't escape her notice.

Isildya wrote furiously in her notebook before throwing it at Brinn's feet. On it was a single word: "Why". Brinn ignored it and took a few steps towards the client with grim determination. "I want her to give it to me, not you" she said stubbornly.
The masked homin agreed: "I will help you: if you inject it directly into a vein, the positive effect will be enhanced."
Isildya was quick to object: "Of course not! An injection will be quicker in every way!"
The two started to argue vehemently about the proper way to take the poison. Brinn's thin temper then reached it's limit. She was scared, frustated, angry at the client, Isildya and mostly at herself for letting the situation go so badly. She snapped.
"You guys really know what you are doing?"
The client replied calmly: "I am merely impatient to see how you like it."
Isildya's answer was not ammused, her own emotions no doubt stretching her patience thin as well: "You are the one who decided not to listen to me."
"Really?" was Brinn's angry retort. She picked the sample up from the ground at the client's feet where it was still lying, and held it out to him. He took it with a chuckle. She barked: "Let's not take all day, shall we?"
He seemed very ammused by the whole display. After preparing the srynge, he injected the sample mxied with his own thinner into Brinn's arm, and took a few steps back to observe her reaction.

First came the warmth, a burning feeling flowing throug her veins. Then she started shivering. Brinn closed her eyes as the trembling grew stronger and stronger, taking a deep breath to fight the fright that was filling her. "Don't panic, keep calm" she mentally repeated to herself.
Then came the pain.
She tried to hold onto a nearby barrier to keep standing, but she soon fell on her knees. She swore enough to make a Fyros soldier blush, the pain coursing furiously through her whole body. When she started to convulse, she lost track of her surroundings. She could not see her friend kneeling next to her, fear creeping into her voice as she called her name; she could not hear her own cries, could not feel her limbs trashing every which way. There was only pain.
Then the pain disapeared.
She felt strangely good. She might have wondered if it was only the withdrawing of pain that made her feel so good, or if it was something more, but she could not wonder anymore. There was no need for thoughs anymore. She only felt.

She did not know how long she stayed like this, it might have been hours or mere seconds, but when she opened her eyes she saw Isildya holding her, concern deep in her eyes as she stared at her worriedly. Why was she worried? Brinn was not sure. Had she not been worried herself, moments before? She wondered how that could be, she did not see any source for concern.
She sat up and looked around her. She recognised the place where she had been injected the drug. So, she had not been moved. Isildya was still talking to her, Brinn simply nodded absently, reassuring her that she was all right. The drug, that's right, the client was supposed to take it, too. Her eyes fell on him, and she watched with interest.

He was standing a few meters from them, his body shaken by increasingly violent tremblings. He fell on his knees. She recalled doing the same after she was injected. She wondered what it would be like after that. Isildya was asking her to depart, but Brinn wanted to see. She remembered that she had been frightened by this man, but she did not understand why anymore. The thought of standing up to be less vulnerable did not even cross her mind.
Isildya shook her gently: "Brinn, are you with me?".
The drugged homin then whimpered softly: "Oh Jena, give me the strengh to restore the old Kingdom."
Brinn was staring with fascination. She wondered if she had been like this, too.
"Stop Brinn! You're frightening me..." said the soft voice of her friend behind her.
The Thieft turned to look at her with surprise, and simply asked: "Why?"
Behind them, the client was still speaking in his delirium: "I will suceed in the task that you gave to me, Goddess. The Kingdom will suffer as you ordered, to purify us once again..."
"You used to be terrified by this man before we came here, and now you are looking at him with..."
Brinn interrupted her friend: "Did I speak, too?"
"Err.. yes" Answered Isildya, disconcerted.
A thud brought back the scammer's attention to the homin, who had just fallen to the ground. He stayed there, lying, immobile.
Brinn picked up her dagger and stood up calmly. She asked her friend: "What did I say?"
Isildya laughed nervously. "You... called me by my name..."
The thieft frowned. It was not a good thing that the mysterious homin had heard her friend's name, after all the trouble she had gone to hide her identity. Of course, she had been terrified at the time. She once again wondered why. He was just a single homin.
Isildya laughed harder. "You said it was all right."
Brinn smiled to her friend before turning back to the man lying on the ground. "Didn't you want to wait for him to wake up, in order to ask him if the drug was close to what he wanted?"
"You do it" replied the botanist with disgust, "I don't want to touch him. You don't seem affraid of him any more."
"He looks uncouncious" observed the scammer.
"You know what? I am disapointed that he is not dead." added the angry Matis.
Brinn aproached the homin slowly to examine him, wondering if he really was unconcious. "Looks like he's still breathing" she simply replied.
"Hit him and you'll see."
Brinn was a bit surprised by her friend's reaction. She had to be very upset, she had never seen her so vindicative. The thieft had no intention of hitting the masked homin, however; she shook gently his shoulder to check whether he was asleep. When he gave no sign of waking up, a mischievous grin formed on her lips. She ignored her friend's sarcasm behind her - "Give him a kiss, while you're at it!" - and murmured: "It's the perfect opportunity."
"The perfect opportunity to leave, yes!"
Brinn ignored her friend once again, and knelt next to the uncouncious homin. Gently, she reached for his head, and took of his mask. Under it was the face of a Matis, long green hair and smooth features. Sap had fallen from his now closed eyes, like dark tears, and saliva was spead around his mouth. Brinn's hand reflexively reached her own, and when she felt wetness she wiped her chin clean. She then put back the mask in place as gently as possible so as not to wake the homin up. She doubted he would appreciate the fact that the two girls had seen his face. She had never seen him in Yrkanis before, she would have to investigate, see if she could find out who he was, without attracting unneccessary attention of course.

Behind her, came the annoyed voice of Isildya once again: "Are we leaving yet?"
Brinn took a few steps back, still facing the unconcious homin. "Didn't you want to interrogate him? To know if the drug was all right?"
The botanist was shocked: "Don't you want to leave and stop all this?"
The thieft replied with a shrug: "We came this far... There's no point in stopping now. No gain." She noticed the client's fingers moving minutely. "Shush! He's waking u-- !"
Isildya's hand on her shoulder and the slap her other hand gave her interrupted Brinn. She instinctively grabbed the arm that had just hit her, before letting go as soon as her brain registered it was not an ennemy that had just assaulted her, but Isildya, her friend.
"What's your problem!" the thief snapped.
"You need rule number one (*), now" answered the botanist. "You're not yourself!"
Brinn's eyes widened in realisation. "But... I'm alright! Can't you see it?"
"You haven't listened a thing! This thing manipulates the mind, haven't you seen his delirium?"
'Yeah, but he's going to wake up, it's temporary."
"No... I do not think so... It is a drug. i'm sure he enjoys it."
"I know. But believe me when I say it's different from the others. I'm still alive, aren't I? So is he. If it was going to kill us, we'd already be dead."
Isildya interrupted her with a gesture of her hand: "I am done explaining things for nothing, especially in front of him." She was looking intently at the man still laying on the ground. Her shaking voice betrayed the tears that went unseen under her mask, as well as the depth of her hatred for their client. Brinn simply noded and lokked back at him.

Said man seemed to be waking up, still a bit disoriented. "Jen- ..." He cut himself off before finishing his sentence.
"Had a nice trip, dear customer?" Isildya's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"I only remember the beguinning, but it was more or less what I was looking for. Still, I would like something stronger than this, if possible."
"Then you will be the only one to try it." replied cooly the scientist with barely contained anger.
"I will test it on a healthy slave that might still have some hope to survive."
Listening to their conversation, Brinn wondered what a more powerfull sample would feel like, before cutting this line of thinking abruptly. She reminded herself that she would not take anymore, this was her merchandise, not for her personal use. She did not do drugs.
"How do we bring it to you when it is ready?" asked the poisonner, and that setteled it.
Brinn had it covered and after the party had decided on the way to proceed to the transaction, she made sure Isildya had teleported before activating her own Karavaneer pact. She had a sinking feeling that she would get an earfull when she joined her friend in their tent of the Water Breakers.

Just as she disapeared from the Aeden, she heard the client speak with a smirk: "Until next time. ...I can't wait."

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(*) This is from Isildya's thread on the French RP forum. I don't plan on translating it, sorry for those possibly interested.