The details of the entire series of unfortunate events are still somewhat hazy. Although I am certain of one thing, mistakes were made. It should also be stated that crafting should be a single task affair. When you mix and match your crafting hobbies, terrible things happen.

Things started off well. I had previously visited the desert of Wyrmsands and harvested many Corpion glands to use as a most diabolical accompaniment to my sword play. Additionally, I had harvested a good crop of wheat to be used in my latest brewing endeavor. Unbeknownst to Alley, I picked a few choice herbs from the greenhouse and may have peeled a pumpkin or two for flavor.

At the Alchemy table, I took great care in the handling of the Corpion extract and distilled my potion into a powerful draft. I was just as careful with the brewing, measuring ingredients twice, using the purest water from the Devotional fountains and regulating the cooking temperature with great care.

I believe the problem came in my choice of containment vessel. Both my Alchemy and Brewing are low budget affairs and storage containers can be scarce. Ale mugs however, are in abundance so I put those into effect. In retrospect, it would have been wise to use some sort of labeling system.

After the Corpion poison was done, I set it aside to cool. The same was done for the ale. Since this is sweltering work, I was parched at the end of my toils and anxious to find a cooling beverage to slake my thirst. Out of habit, my eyes fixed on the first mug I saw and I quaffed it down.

It had a rather appealing tang at first, but after a moment it had a rather voracious bite, I can attest to that. The crafting pavilion began to sway in a rather mocking fashion and I stumbled to more solid ground. Progress was steady until my vision abandoned me. I then had to use my superior sense of touch and smell to navigate my way to safety.

Alas, the path was riddled with hazards. I was cut to shreds on the Kobold Slag Swords that some damnable fool, which I later discovered was me, had placed as decorations. This sent me careening into a rack of Kobold Electric Axes which stunned me to the core and sent me reeling.

The brazier broke my fall and in a fit state of incapacitation, I slumped there waiting for the debilitating and deleterious effects of the poison to wear off.


My keen sense of smell tells me that something is burning. We should probably do something about that before it turns into a terrible situation.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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