A customer had approached her to make an analysis of her favorite perfume, which just so happened to also be a bloodthistle-based narcotic. Bloodthistle was, botanically speaking, a relative of the Swiftthistle plant, but whereas the Swiftthistle plant was no difficult to find - it was a parasite, often growing intertwined with Briarthorn or Mageroyal plants. Swiftthistle was very useful in several different recipes, especially those which provided a nervious energy; ingestion invariably produced a fast heart rate, sweating, and large pupils as the user experienced an artificial adrenaline high that could last, depending on the dosage, between five and ninety minutes. It was often brewed into a tea, highly prized as a stimulant for those needing an "extra kick".
Bloodthistle, by contrast, was available only in the inaccessable northern point of the Eastern Kingdoms, and grew only near spots with a high amount of quel'dorei magic. Like its cousin, it was a narcotic, but in the Quel'dorei it induces a happy euphoria and sense of invunerability. It also enhanced the ability of the users to channel and use elvin magical energies for a time... but with a cost. After the effects faded, the consumer would enter a statge of withdrawal, virtually cut off from magical enemies while the withdrawl symptoms persisted. Like any narcotic, this one also had addicts... and anything with addicts could be found on the black market.
Unfortunately for Laurel, she had the wrong sort of contacts; Bloodthistle only affected elves, and so the local black market had no ready suppliers. This lack forced Laurel to deal with someone that she found abhorrent; a petty merchant in cheese, whose legitimate business masked his smuggling sidelines. The fellow made a small fortune making "cheese deliveries", hiding contraband of various sorts in wheels of the various kinds of cheese, which were in demand all over Azeroth. This fellow had refused Laurel's own generous offer to distributge her own narcotics, looking down his nose at her. They still did business, however - the fellow had a taste for Thistle Tea, and Laurel provided him with all the Swiftthistle he wanted.
Laurel had asked no questions, but he had been able to obtain for her a supply of Bloodthistle sufficient for her needs in creating the perfume desired by her customer.
The first stgep, of course, was to create a batch of Bloodthistle essential oil... ordinarily, this was a slow process that could take weeks to distil a useful amount, but the client was in a hurry.
So Laurel cheated. She retreated to her basement workshop of her house in Darkshire, and began to chant in the dark Fel tongue of demons:
From the Land beyond Beyond
To a place of Hope and Fear
I bid you Tarkin
Now appear!
Her demon Imp appeared in an instant, and immediately began complaining and whining. Laurel rolled her eyes and inflicted him with a Mino Curse o Agony to forstall more kvetching. "Enough, Tarkin. I have an urgent task for you." Imps were small, perverse demons with a sadisticly mischevious bent, but they were masters of fire.
"I live to serve you, my Queen of Fel Darkness!" the Imp flattered. Tarkin really only had two moods - whiny complaining and sevile groveling.
"I need you to take this cauldron and slow-boil the contents," Laurel said, brusing the Bloodthistle and immersing it in the distilled water. "I will be extracting the oil from this plant, so do not heat it too much, do you understand?"
"Oh yeah, sure," said the Imp carelessly.
Laurel narrowed her eyes in distrust. "Understand me - if you do not pay close attention, and ruin this batch, I will apply a Curse of Infernal Itching to your nether regions for a month, until you scratch yourself to bloody, shredded flesh. I don't care how boring this is, you will tend it with care and constant low heat. No diversions, no mistreating creatures for entertainment, no nothing... or boredom will be the least of your worries!" She handed him the cauldron, which the Imp was barely able to lift to the hearth, using both hands. "And no noise... I have work to do!"
With that begun, she began to ponder the rest...
Perfumes were composed of three different scent notes, often related; tghe base notge, to which one added the middle notges, which influneced thebase note scent, and then the high note, which, when properly aged, would dominate the scent melange. Her customer, a charming and charismatic professional negotiator known as Dandi (Which was short for Dandelion, apparently), was aware of the narcotic nature of Bloodthistle, but did not want it too strong; Dandi was a creature of subtlety. Laurel was almost certain that the perfume was only an part of the perfume's charm; lthough she had not mentioned it, Laurel was virtually certain that Dani was casting a minor charm spell, using the Laws of Similarity - the law of magic wherein the mage, warlock, or shaman infers that one can produce any effect they desire merely by imitating it - to direct and amplify the effect of the weak narcotic. It was the same law that had voodoo dolls stuck with a pin produce a magnifed effect in the person dipicted by the doll.
In fact... Laurel chuckled. She had an idea... Laurel filled a pint jar with denatured alcohol, and placed it wihin a thaumaturgical triangle, quickly drawn on the slate floor of her workshop. Rather than try to rush the product, she could cheat, with a judicious application of the Law of Contagion, whereby a spell-caster could create large amounts of wine out of water by pouring a single drop into the supply of water.
Fortunately, her customer had given her more than enough of a sample for both a carful, time-consuming analysis AND a way to meet the short-tern need.
Laurel cast the invocation, and using an eyedropper added one... two... three drops of the original perfume. The Rule of Three was also to be respected.
The alchemical transformation was already underway when laurel turned back to her notes regarding the scent notes... perhaps a base of Dreamfoil, with middle notes of Bruiseweend and Fadeleaf, leaving the top note of Bloodthistle. She would have to play with the ingredients, somewhat... but she would call the final product Dandelion Tears. She smiled, hoping that name would find favor with her customer.
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