When the group returns to the manor, Rallaak rushes off to prepare antidotes. Terrence almost immediately slumps onto the cool floor, pressing his cheek against it in an almost embrace. "This is nice. Don't mind me. I'm just going to have a little rest on the floor here. Feel free to wake me if you get that cure finished. Or if there's breakfast in the morning."
Málean blinks rapidly for a second. "I'll get right to it," he says and jogs lithely after Rallaak.
The two men huddle around the alchemy kit in the middle of the charred dining hall, measuring and mixing. As Málean bends down to start the process he lets his right arm fall to his side and an intricate set of cogwork and filigree fades away. "Sorry for being so absent minded. Sometimes my mind just wanders back to the workbench without me even noticing". He gives his head a tiny shake and focuses intently on the transmutation from deadly venom to lifesaving antidote.
In a dangerous political climate, several expeditions are made to the infamous Wilds in hopes of expanding the country, Urbane, and avoiding an all out civil war. But, when the lord in charge of the excursions is almost assassinated, tensions increase and put new pressures on the brave explorers.