~ THE LAB ~
> You enter a dim laboratory. There are steins and beakers brimming with exotic substances littered over stone tables. Smog coils and snakes in a massive glass dome at the room’s heart.
> A thin, looming figure approaches. He is completely obscured with thick leather, studded with iron. There are circular lenses ensconced in his mask, and a boiled leather beak that droops to his neck. He clears his throat and speaks: His voice is low, brooding.
"The sun sets, the tide recedes, and in washes a stranger from the wilds…
You look a provincial soul- there is little here of interest to you.
Still. . . The company of this dwelling lacks grace. Should you have questions, I will hear them.
My name? I am The Physiker."
The Physiker ambles awkwardly towards the glass dome. He strokes the pane with a gloved hand.
"This? It is a cure, though for what I cannot say.""
He turns towards you. Light catches his lenses.
"If it wasn’t apparent to your unschooled eyes, all of us in this citadel suffer the same sickness.""
"But the ingredients here are limited. The weeds that choke through the brick, the last crumbs of the pantries, vestiges of alchemical experiments. I’m trying to ignite a bonfire with half a stick.""
"But there is nothing for it, other than to keep trying. . . throwing myself into the proverbial night.
"You hear the creak of leather under his mask. You get the sense he is smiling.
"If you find any interesting substances, do let me know.""
You wander the lab in silence, for a spell. Then, a question occurs to you.
"How I ended up here?"
"Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha."
His laugh is bitter, humorless.
"In a time before your own, I was quite the renowned physician. Any king would empty their treasury, if but for the chance to have me near their side."
"A glance around this pitiful room will tell you how long ago that was. The king died. There's no medicine that reattaches a head. Ha."
"And yet I remain... you might do well to ask yourself how a once mighty kingdom met calamity. Sudden, violent calamity."
The Physiker uncorks a vial, tilts his head up, and dumps the contents down the nose flaps of his mask. He sighs contentedly.
"You are rather inquisitive. If you must know, it's filled with regenarative minerals. A mixture of soil, and liquids, and... other properties."
"Now, if you're looking for somewhere to rest..."
"I might circumvent the courts, or any open spaces. Might I suggest the oculus window's sill, just down the hall?"
"If you'll excuse me, I have much alchemizing to do."
As you make your way down the hall, you hear frenzied hacking back from the lab.
You decide to get some rest.