faderift | Step one: Grind the elfroot into a paste...

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Step one: Grind the elfroot into a paste...

WHO: Adelaide & Whoever wants to attend
WHAT: Potions & Poultices 101
WHEN: Harvestmere 28, morning
WHERE: The Garden
NOTES: As advertised the day before.

Set Up

As promised Adelaide had a large kettle brewing of a simple black tea. It wasn't much but it was hot and it was bitter- sugar, honey, and cream weren't exactly in ample supply but there were a few jars of donated jam and honeycomb donated by the kitchens and patients. Her own supplies for potions and poultices are laid out on a makeshift table. To one side her apprentices finish writing out and folding instructions- basic recipes for healing poultices, salves, potions- and the principles behind simple healing spells. If you could throw a fireball, you could heal a cut. Anything more complicated took greater study but the basics? Should be well known.

Behind and looking somewhat uncomfortable but, well, present, Bruce stood minding the bundles of herbs, handing out what was needed. While not a mage the surgeon was trustworthy and, honestly, needed to get out more.

During

It was simple enough. Adelaide went over the information on the cards handed out by her apprentices, demonstrated the proper techniques for grinding, mixing, layering the poultices and brewing for potions. They did not have as many kits for the brewing as they did for creating poultices, but they should have enough for those with an interest to learn or to help. After going through those Adealide would motion the mages that wished to learn more of basic healing off to one side to walk them through the theory, using some of the not quite so injured patients to demonstrate. Volunteers, all- she was careful in her instruction and thorough above all else- the last thing they needed was anyone getting injured from an attempt at healing.

After

Packing everything away in the afternoon to return to her tent, Adelaide was available for further questions, commentary- or criticism if something seemed poorly done, presumptuous, or overly curt.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sam sighs as he looks down at the instructions in his hands, then down at the items on the table. Potions and poulitices were never his favorite subject, but it is important to know how to do. They're important to have when you don't have magic to help. It's just been a while since he's had to make one.

At his table Sam goes about each of the steps in a leisurely manner, taking time to inspect the ingredients at the different stages and double checking the instructions often. He's relatively quiet as he works, save for the humming or whistling he does.

"Is it all quite clear?" Adelaide rests a hand on Sam's shoulder for a moment as she examines his work, peering down at the herbs and instructions. She had double checked everything before they handed anything out but- Sam would be honest if something was unclear or phrased poorly.

He's off in his own world as he concentrates on his work, watching how the elfroot changes in the mortar with every press of the pestle. It's because of that, that Sam jumps just a bit when a hand touches his shoulder and he hears a voice to his side. Not enough to topple him over or knock anything off thankfully.

Blinking he turns his head to the person. At seeing that it was Lady LeBlanc he sighs and gives a smile. "It's been a while since I've had to make any of this. I haven't ran into an issue yet with the instructions."

"It is important to review the basics. Also..." She leans a little closer, voice dropping low. "It's a bit of an olive branch, what we'll make today. I hope it smooths over some of the raw feelings caused by tempers flaring up after the wake."

Her own run in with a brawl had been unpleasant to say the least, but whispers of other altercations keep circling. The more they can do to move past it? The better.

At seeing LeBlanc lean in closer, Sam does the same so that the conversation could be held easier. He nods at the idea, slowly getting back to his work as he listens. It was a good idea, or at least a good attempt.

"It's a good idea. Though it would probably smooth more ruffled feathers if the Templars did something similar."

"I will leave that to their Knight Commanders and to Commander Cullen." She wants nothing to do with them if she can help it- that is their house to mind, not hers. She doesn't even truly have a position to mind the house of mages but so long as she and her students must live in it with them? Minding it so it doesn't burn down around their ears is only sensible.

Deviating from his conversation does make her murmur, though. "...speaking of after the wake...the young man you were with when I found you- I was not interrupting anything, was I?"

Sam simply nods at that, knowing not to push the subject farther. He hasn't heard or seen it himself but the children under LeBlanc's care have spoken at length about their mentor's... issues with Templars. Specifically a certain Orlesian. It's amusing to be told about, but he suspects it isn't as funny as how they tell it.

At hearing the woman talk even lower, Sam leans in closer. She mentions something about after the wake then pauses. What about after the wake?

The young man...

Sam almost misses the rest of the question when his hand slips and he knocks over the mortar. Obviously he knows what she is talking about judging by how red his face has turned, but Sam purposely ignores that fact, concentrating instead on gathering up the elfroot he dropped.

"Ah... ummm... which young man are we talking about?"

Well that seems to strike a nerve- or rather startle him more than her hand had earlier. Is he blushing? He's blushing. She shouldn't laugh and in fact, is not laughing.

At all.

Not so much as a smile. This is serious- or could be serious?

"The handsome Tevinter Mercenary you were so cozy with up on the battlements." That young man.

Tevinter Mercenary, she says. She knows exactly who she's talking about. The word 'cozy' is there too. Disappearing under the table is too much of a give away, and hardly an escape route.

"You're talking about Krem then? He's the Chargers second-in-command."

"An accomplished, handsome young man then." She knows what she's doing and perhaps is enjoying it just a little too much. Just a touch. "Should I invite him for tea after lessons sometime? Get to know him better?"

Playing ignorant seems to just be adding fuel to the fire. He's not chancing a look at the woman, but she sounds smug. Sam has a feeling this is a subject that will be brought up a lot now.

"Sure," he says offhandedly without thinking, still focusing on playing it cool. Wait. What did he just agree to? "You want to do what?"

"Invite him to join us for tea. After our lessons." It's been some time since she's felt cause to be quite so smug- it's charming. That Sam's found this attraction or at the very least an attractive friend. It's good for him. "I'd like to get to know him better. If he is your friend, yes?"

She wanted to- have Krem come over after lessons and-

Sam completely stops working at that point because he feels he's very likely to ruin a good starting batch of poulitice if he keeps knocking things over. As embarrassed as he is though, there's something about the question that catches him.

"He is my friend, yes. I hope..." Otherwise that would have been a lot more awkward then it had been. Or did being friends make it more so? Maker preserve him. "I- don't know if he likes... tea?"

"Everyone likes tea, Sam. If they do not something is wrong with them." She pats his shoulder, taking pity on him for the moment. It isn't entirely fair to hold that evening over him as he'd been at the very least tipsy and she'd found her own troubles easily enough without wine. There is not much room for her to speak, truly. "He seems kind...and he seems to enjoy your company as well, at least from what I saw."

It was then that Gavin noticed his friend, and probably would have waited until his conversation was over, except that he saw that blush. He could not resist, especially considering how Sam had teased him about his own, so he grinned and stepped over.

"Sam! I was wondering if you were going to be here." Then (as if he was realising he was butting in, which of course, he already knew, he turned to Adelaide and looked apologetic). "Ah - excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting--"

Oh no. He can see it, the bait and the lure. 'He seems to enjoy your company as well, at least from what I saw'. He's embarrassed and wants to hide, but now he wants to know. What did she see?

Of course before he can doom himself by asking, Gavin appears. Friend, Gavin. Beautiful, best timing, friend Gavin. "Gavin!" He's still surprised to see the Dalish Elf though. It's been some time since they last spoke.

"Mhmmm-" And ah, the Dalish. Gavin? Gavin. So many friends Sam has, and they all seem to be quite helpful. It could be worse. He could be spending time around Templars. "Nothing important. I was simply going over some of the finer points of the instructions with Moumou."

The hand on Sam's shoulder gives a little squeeze before it slips away, her smile breif but sincere. "Though I think he is quite clear on the nuances, yes?"

"MouMou?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow at Sam. Yep. Never living that one down.

"I'm sure he does, Sam always has an excellent grasp on the 'nuances'," he adds with a grin. "Come on then, help me make a poultice, and you can show me all these new tricks you've learned,"

"MouMou?" he repeats as well, his brows narrowing in confusion at LeBlanc. Who was- was he MouMou? Then she's squeezing his shoulder and subtly hinting at what she was talking about before. Nuances. Riiiight.

And then Gavin isn't helping. Beautiful, best timing, friend Gavin isn't quite here to save him. Not with that grin and how he repeats his new nickname and 'nuances'. Hiding under the table still won't save him.

Sam sighs. "I'm making a poultice right now actually."

"I shall leave you to it, then. Do not burn anything." Which isn't exactly possible with a mortar and pestle but- stranger things have happened. She offers them both one last faint smile before moving away to the other attendees.

Not totally here to save him, no. Gavin watches Adelaide leave before bumping Sam's shoulder with his own.

"What was all that about?" he whispers conspiratorially. "I don't think I've ever seen you such a shade of red. It looks good on you." Yes, it may be payback time.

Sam gives a long sigh and leans heavily on the table with his elbows, putting his face in his hands. What was that saying? Out of the frying pan? Though he supposes Gavin is much different talking with Lady LeBlanc. Big difference with someone you see as a mentor and mother figure, and your friend.

Course said friend isn't just here for his benefit. Not with how he tosses that sentence he used a while back, back at him. Sam snorts, putting his hands down on the table. "I might have - tried to kiss someone..."

The poultice is, of course, completely forgotten, as Gavin slides a hand onto Sam's shoulder and leans in to better listen to him.

"Tried to?" he asked, grinning, but it wasn't teasing so much as honestly happy for him (and a little bit sympathetic). "Is that what she was talking about? Did she spot you?"

"She... might have been the interruption." He said 'might have', but he really means 'was'. Granted she hadn't meant it, she was just worried, but it was rather bad timing. Unless he would have gotten a punch to the face, then it could have been good timing?

"Ahh," Gavin said, understanding at last, giving Sam a sympathetic shoulder shake.

"Dare I ask who this lucky person is that was so close to getting a kiss?"

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