The Black Shroud
Josephe Bloom, once a respected doctor and conjurer but ejected from his guild for delving into forbidden alchemies, had spent many a bitter night bemoaning his fate. It was only when he found the elezen woman, nearly dead on the edge of where the Shroud met Thanalan, that he found joy in life again.
Nursing her back to health gave him some purpose. Dehydrated and delirious, half-starved and her feet torn up from a trip through the desert; she should have died. Even once he had stabilized her, she would toss and turn in her sleep, babbling about the man who had killed her children. Her plight made his heart ache.
Soon after she woke, he learned that she was herself a skilled alchemist. He never questioned her past, what horrible things had brought her, nearly dead, to the edge of the Shroud. She would tell him in her own time, he believed. With her help, he was able to take his studies to levels he had never dreamed of. With his help, she was able to find a measure of peace. The sounds of the Shroud helped her to remember life, to ignore the nightmares that plagued her. Perhaps she was past her prime, but she had plenty of life still in her. The small shack in the depths of the Shroud was nothing like his old home, but with her there he had come to love it.
With the proper alchemy, she claimed, she could get back to her true self, who she was meant to be. He insisted she needn’t worry about age, but she was not to be deterred. She needed such strange reagents for her alchemy, but the use of voidsent blood in a mixture that healed his sick patients had proven to him there were benefits hidden in the darkest of places. He never questioned the materials she requested.
Her name was Jainelette, and Josephe was in love. So what if she was wildwood and he was a midlander? She was an older woman, but she was still beautiful. She complained about the lines around her eyes, and he swore to her he couldn’t see them. She complained of her age, and he gave her flowers. She was abducted, and he panicked.
He would not turn to the Wood Wailers. He would turn, once again, to the most reliable way to get something done. Adventurers.
---
Josephe paced back and forth through Camp Tranquil. A trio of miqo’te had answered his call for aid. He had led them to where Jainelette had been abducted, but there was little more he could do.  The trees had been burned by magic, and the male had insisted it was the work of thaumaturges. Had she been taken by some sort of cultists? Though there were many respectable thaumaturges in the world, kidnapping a woman did not place these people within that group. What could anyone like that want with poor Jainelette?
The trio had set off, and Josephe remained behind, left wondering if they would ever return to him. His heart nearly stopped beating when they walked into camp, bloodied but unharmed. Truly, a testament to the efficacy of adventurers: Jainelette walked beside them.
He rushed in and took her hands, looking up into her eyes. They were red from tears or fatigue. She looked weary, the lines around her eyes deeper, and Josephe ignored them. The tiny, tired smile she gave him was all he saw.
“Here,†he said to the adventurers. “I brought medicine with me, fearing you might return injured. The least I can do is give it to you now. In your profession.. Ah ignore me! Here, medicine, and your payment.â€
To each of them he gave a small supply of medicines and prepared herbs, as well as an appropriate quantity of money. Perhaps he didn’t want to bother them by rambling, or perhaps he simply wanted to return home as soon as possible, but Josephe did not seek to speak with the adventurers much, once their job was completed.
---
Josephe opened the door to that small shack that he and Jainelette shared. The scent of dried herbs filled the air, it was thick and wet with the results of their work, and Jainelette looked relieved to be home. Out waddled a tiny little mandragora, that turned its one massive eye up to look at the woman.
“He missed you almost as much as I did,†Josephe said.
--- --- ---
Ul'dah
Kokoripu watched out the window as the lovely vixen stepped out into the streets.
“A worthy price,†he said to no one in particular, his attention shifting to the bag the woman carried. He was no stranger to courtesans, but it was always clear when a woman enjoyed her work. None enjoyed it as much as she, he could tell. And when a woman enjoys her work, she works extra hard. The miqo’te had earned every penny with her work last night. And this morning. And every tick between. He’d need to see her again; perhaps offer her a job as concubine and a life in the lap of luxury.
His lap, to be precise.
Though, he would need to make sure she could be trusted. Keep an eye on her, find out who she really was. The lalafell turned away from the window and snapped his fingers. A servant slipped into the room, carrying a platter and wine. She gave no sign that she noticed he was stark naked, she only knelt and offered him the glass of wine.
“I will break fast in the red dining room. Fetch Blushing Mountain and send him to meet me there.â€
“As you wish, my lord.â€
He would also need to look into those keeper sisters that had been hired to work at the auction. Apparently they’d needed to be ejected from the estate to prevent trouble.
So many loose ends to clean up.
Josephe Bloom, once a respected doctor and conjurer but ejected from his guild for delving into forbidden alchemies, had spent many a bitter night bemoaning his fate. It was only when he found the elezen woman, nearly dead on the edge of where the Shroud met Thanalan, that he found joy in life again.
Nursing her back to health gave him some purpose. Dehydrated and delirious, half-starved and her feet torn up from a trip through the desert; she should have died. Even once he had stabilized her, she would toss and turn in her sleep, babbling about the man who had killed her children. Her plight made his heart ache.
Soon after she woke, he learned that she was herself a skilled alchemist. He never questioned her past, what horrible things had brought her, nearly dead, to the edge of the Shroud. She would tell him in her own time, he believed. With her help, he was able to take his studies to levels he had never dreamed of. With his help, she was able to find a measure of peace. The sounds of the Shroud helped her to remember life, to ignore the nightmares that plagued her. Perhaps she was past her prime, but she had plenty of life still in her. The small shack in the depths of the Shroud was nothing like his old home, but with her there he had come to love it.
With the proper alchemy, she claimed, she could get back to her true self, who she was meant to be. He insisted she needn’t worry about age, but she was not to be deterred. She needed such strange reagents for her alchemy, but the use of voidsent blood in a mixture that healed his sick patients had proven to him there were benefits hidden in the darkest of places. He never questioned the materials she requested.
Her name was Jainelette, and Josephe was in love. So what if she was wildwood and he was a midlander? She was an older woman, but she was still beautiful. She complained about the lines around her eyes, and he swore to her he couldn’t see them. She complained of her age, and he gave her flowers. She was abducted, and he panicked.
He would not turn to the Wood Wailers. He would turn, once again, to the most reliable way to get something done. Adventurers.
---
Josephe paced back and forth through Camp Tranquil. A trio of miqo’te had answered his call for aid. He had led them to where Jainelette had been abducted, but there was little more he could do.  The trees had been burned by magic, and the male had insisted it was the work of thaumaturges. Had she been taken by some sort of cultists? Though there were many respectable thaumaturges in the world, kidnapping a woman did not place these people within that group. What could anyone like that want with poor Jainelette?
The trio had set off, and Josephe remained behind, left wondering if they would ever return to him. His heart nearly stopped beating when they walked into camp, bloodied but unharmed. Truly, a testament to the efficacy of adventurers: Jainelette walked beside them.
He rushed in and took her hands, looking up into her eyes. They were red from tears or fatigue. She looked weary, the lines around her eyes deeper, and Josephe ignored them. The tiny, tired smile she gave him was all he saw.
“Here,†he said to the adventurers. “I brought medicine with me, fearing you might return injured. The least I can do is give it to you now. In your profession.. Ah ignore me! Here, medicine, and your payment.â€
To each of them he gave a small supply of medicines and prepared herbs, as well as an appropriate quantity of money. Perhaps he didn’t want to bother them by rambling, or perhaps he simply wanted to return home as soon as possible, but Josephe did not seek to speak with the adventurers much, once their job was completed.
---
Josephe opened the door to that small shack that he and Jainelette shared. The scent of dried herbs filled the air, it was thick and wet with the results of their work, and Jainelette looked relieved to be home. Out waddled a tiny little mandragora, that turned its one massive eye up to look at the woman.
“He missed you almost as much as I did,†Josephe said.
--- --- ---
Ul'dah
Kokoripu watched out the window as the lovely vixen stepped out into the streets.
“A worthy price,†he said to no one in particular, his attention shifting to the bag the woman carried. He was no stranger to courtesans, but it was always clear when a woman enjoyed her work. None enjoyed it as much as she, he could tell. And when a woman enjoys her work, she works extra hard. The miqo’te had earned every penny with her work last night. And this morning. And every tick between. He’d need to see her again; perhaps offer her a job as concubine and a life in the lap of luxury.
His lap, to be precise.
Though, he would need to make sure she could be trusted. Keep an eye on her, find out who she really was. The lalafell turned away from the window and snapped his fingers. A servant slipped into the room, carrying a platter and wine. She gave no sign that she noticed he was stark naked, she only knelt and offered him the glass of wine.
“I will break fast in the red dining room. Fetch Blushing Mountain and send him to meet me there.â€
“As you wish, my lord.â€
He would also need to look into those keeper sisters that had been hired to work at the auction. Apparently they’d needed to be ejected from the estate to prevent trouble.
So many loose ends to clean up.