Nub swished the contents of five and six together a bit before downing it then said, "The first additive subdues the euphoria in the second mostly. That's a good thing. The last thing this world needs is an addictive substance that targets creatures with low impulse control... 'Three' does wonders for 'two'. Raise the amount of blood to a cup at its current concentration and it would simulate a full feeding. I wouldn't suggest raising the concentration by much to compensate less blood. Whatever three is, it's safer to keep it's inclusion to a minimum."
Orison handed one last vial to Nub and said, "Based on your reaction to 'three', lets just try one more. I had another but if it's that bad, the second one from these last two would be a crap idea."
Nub downed the vial. A few seconds later, he crossed his legs as a slow blush worked into his cheeks then said in a slightly cracking voice. "This variant of two hits too heavy and fast. It might be useful in bringing a vampire out of berserk. With a touch of 'three' it would allow a vampire to feel certain urges like everyone else for a time."
Orison scribbled a few more notes and used Transcribe a couple of times before he handed a small home-made journal to Nub. After getting a solid affirmative from Nub on how safe the vampire felt about holding on to 'three' for the purpose of getting it to Portia, Orison took out two large crystals that radiated a milky blue light.
For a 'tip for services rendered', Orison handed him a third crystal with a potion bottle pulled from a bedside drawer. Orison hadn't had a lot of time since he arrived at the consul for real world alchemy but he'd made some essentials late into his first week.
Temporarily forgetting his original purpose for coming, Nub gestured at the journal and said, "May I?"
Orison nodded in playful exasperation.
While waiting Orison thought to himself, "It's almost a shame we're in a truce. Revivalists are almost always a two for one. I get a black crystal from them and then a large one from their ghost protector.
A couple minutes later Nub said, "'Two' is a vigor potion to restore flagging endurance and 'three' is a pinch of scraping from this crystal? I know that vigor potions are almost non-existent because they're not considered cost effective but... Oh, without this different compound to keep the blood 'alive' longer it wouldn't be that efficient to vampires either, especially without 'three'...
"Grand sire's 'bone crystal' is a possible substitute? If that turns true it will be a good thing for our line at least. I see that you have asked her not to inquire to the crystal's source so I won't either but it would be good to know how much we could count on in the future if we need it again."
Orison looked at the vampire dubiously. It had already taken about all the courage he had to offer them. If it wasn't for Portia's closeness with his brother, this whole experiment wouldn't have happened.
Relenting just a little more, Orison said, "I can only promise two. Any more is far too conditional for me to say with any certainty. What I've given to you and Portia will last for a long time even if you drank nothing but. I'm fairly certain that her 'bone crystal' will work as a decent, if a little weaker, substitute. Don't ask why that is. That digs into her secrets and mine. I know you'd like to ask more on the crystal but direct those questions to Portia."
Nub said, "Alright. Why is your formula for this salt water solution so precise but hazy on the chilling and amount of this tree bark extract? How is it better than wine for storage?"
Orison replied, "Short story, otherwise it'll take too long. For your first question, because I haven't had a lot of time to work on it and I have a lot of other things I want to devote my time to. Plus, if Venito likes alchemy, he'll have fun figuring that out himself. For your second question, because wine and other spirits might stop blood from clotting but it also destroys the stuff in it that nourishes you. Have Venito answer the rest. I'm sure he'd like the opportunity to flex his mind at someone. I know I like it, a little too much maybe."
While Nub finished going over the journal that had other information in it than just his alchemy work, Orison thought, "I'd like to dedicate this Nobel Prize to my high school biology teacher, the people I volunteered with at the blood donation center and most of all, my grandmother who told me where aspirin came from. A willow tree by any other friggin name is still just a willow tree."
Anticipating Nub's final question, Orison fished another potion out of his nightstand drawer and handed it to Nub, saying, "Eventually you'd gather up the courage to ask and I'd like to save you the embarrassment."
Nub avoided looking Orison in the eyes as he took the offered potion.
After noticing what it was, Nub looked at Orison in surprise and said, "The alternate 'two' is vital potion? A long time ago, we used to keep these in stock to help surviving cattle, er, donors replenish. I think we stopped because one of the ingredients got too expensive... I don't remember anyone telling me it had THAT kind of effect for us and I'm sure someone would have figured it out."
Orison chuckled and said, "The replacement ingredient is the likely culprit. No offense but cost was one of my concerns when making these. What good would any of this be if it wasn't affordable...And no, I won't give you my new formula. Firstly, if anyone's going to make some profit from this, it's me. Secondly, I have no problems giving Venito the formula the next time I see him but that will be after Portia promises me not to open cattle ranches after he has it. People who murder for pleasure, child molesters and rapists are excluded. Trash farms I can accept as long as there isn't any breeding programs or anything.
"Portia strikes me as a feeding elitist so she'll be pleased to know that, as far as I can tell, cheap magical healing potions are not going to be forthcoming in the foreseeable future. A shame in my opinion. Pulling cows and pigs back on to the menu as a decent choice rather than an emergency one would be incredibly helpful."
Nub nodded and said, "More of our kind than you think would like such a thing, Orison. Grand sire was changed against her will, as have others. From your perspective, it must seem like we all enjoy our predator status and some do. Some of us embrace it after a time because the alternative is too hard. Even with healing elixirs added, cow and pig blood taste unappealing but without it... Not only is it like a cup of water scooped out of a latrine left to stagnate on a summer day but it makes us weak and sick after a time. Some of us who were just too stubborn to admit defeat lose all intellect and transform into lesser undead after dying a second time...
"I really should get to the reason I came. As it is, I'll be legging a little in daylight... We pulled a few strings and ripped a couple throats to make this future capital happen faster. Unfortunately, there was no better choice than Fvaris as the spearhead. More lesser clans and clanless will flock to Fvaris' banner than any other and they are willing to play the political game unlike Revivalists. Unlike most of the Progressives, they are good at it.
"The bad part for us is their connections with Pact, that want to raise certain ancestors to false god status. Because of their ties with Pact they also have some of the best necromancers and have no qualms about its usage. On a more neutral note for us but unhappy news for others, they are also slavery supporters. The bad part for you is that they favor Summerland Domain for trade and alliance merely out of convenience in secondary ideology mostly. That being said, don't get involved in Empire power plays. Avoid or push for delays whenever you see one cross your desk."
"Tomorrow, when the dowager comes, play middle as much as you can. Too weak and she'll exploit, too strong and she'll remove the truce protecting you. Say no to the fishery one of the clans wants to construct on the peninsula tip, it's Revivalist. If it helps, say yes to the offer of administrative aids, they are Progressives and want to learn more about how Centerland runs things. They are also hiding a friend of the silence among them. Don't try to find out which. It would be bad for both of you.
"I want to tell you to say no to the peninsula memorial but that would earn you the enmity of two clans and you need majority on your side or the Revivalists will pick you apart after the truce ends. If you're inclined to do a favor for our order, delay upgrading this consul to an embassy. What you will lose in personal merit to Centerland you will earn from us but we won't hold it against you if you don't."
Orison weighed his options and said, "I'm inclined to do a favor for The Order on that one. I don't want to get wrapped up in deep politics anyway... Why is the memorial something you don't want built?"
Nub hesitated then said, "The memorial will be a focal point for ancestral protection over the bay. It will also be a tool for gathering strength to promote an ancestor."
Orison nodded and said, "I don't want to hold you too long asking you questions about how it works and why it's bad but if you send me that information with as much detail as you can, I'll see what I can do to put a wrinkle in it."
Nub smiled and said, "I didn't expect you to be that accommodating."
Slightly frowning, Orison said, "Neither did I but in a way we're extended family. Benefit to The Order is coincidental."
Nub blinked, slightly dumbfounded for a moment, then said, "Anything you'd like to ask of me?"
Orison said, "Not unless you know how to get a hold of an enchanter's workbench, even if it's just to borrow for a few days."
Nub coughed and said, "I'll see what I can do but I'm not that confident, at least not with any expediency. It might be easier just to requisition the creation of one. We still have a connection to a master who knows how and getting a hand full of apprentice grade hedge witches and cultists to sacrifice would be easier than borrowing one. I think Grand sire's been tossing the idea around of getting another for her chapter anyway."
Orison froze as connections were made, then said, "So that's the secret. Just out of curiosity, does it have to be a mage? Are there alternatives?"
Nub said, "I'm not sure about alternatives but the seven pointed star is tipped at a minimum of three points with a piece of artificially created amber. The main ingredient of that amber is the extracted magic vessels and condensed reservoirs of apprentice grade or higher mages. The more sacrificed, the bigger the amber. The more points, the longer the workbench lasts. That's completely all I know about it... But I must be off. Walking around during the day isn't fatal per say but it does make me burn through blood reserves much faster."
Orison handed Nub one of the 'wine bottles' after hitting it with a Degree Shift and said in parting, "It's preserved using the method from the journal and you have the additives. Season to taste and enjoy, I guess."
Nub smiled widely once more, nodded and left through the window after checking for the position of the consul guard on duty.
As much as he dreaded doing it, knowing that his mother had a long and arduous day ahead of her, Orison woke up Droya and dropped the info bomb on her. He couldn't wait until morning, not knowing when the Fvaris dowager would arrive. This was one battle Droya would have to fight alone. Compared to The Empire's laws and regulations about minors, Ashlanders were absolutely draconian and seniority often trumped ability regardless of the age of the younger person in question. If Orison performed any action or talked unprompted, it would affect Droya's image and ability to negotiate.
After they were finished rehashing Droya's negotiation plans and strategies, it was almost dawn. Seeing no point in trying to catch a nap that would only leave her more drowsy, Droya just got ready for her day a little in advance. Handing her a cup of tea reinforced with a drop of vital potion, Orison helped her go over the material one more time.
When they were finished, Droya said, "Whether we finish the process or let someone else swoop in for the credit on the upgrade to embassy, our direct involvement wouldn't be that long. Surely it would be better for us to tuck it in our pocket."
Orison shook his head, "Even if it was just two weeks, the actions of an acting legate in an embassy speak for the country they represent. A consul legate doesn't have nearly the same power. If you made a catastrophic deal with clan Fvaris, and they would try, The Empire would have to honor it and work their way back out. Now, I don't know why they'd send a mother and son with no experience to do consulate work but even an insane person wouldn't send them to head an embassy. This push to legitimize us as such is probably just a scheme to take advantage of our inexperience to begin with... We cannot afford the risk. Additionally, we get a favor I can't tell you much about. I hate keeping secrets from you but please believe me on this. I don't have a choice."
Captain Nadir ended their prep session with, "Sorry to bother you, Madam Legate, but Dowager Fvaris has arrived."
Nadir's impression on Droya and Orison had rises and falls throughout the time they had spent in the consulate. Even so, the more recalcitrant Orison had to admit that once the captain had his hooks into the men, everything had been running like clockwork from a respectful and considerate clock. It led a lot of credence to Nadir's original claims and his current difference, even warmness, towards Droya had convinced them both that his concern for their safety and well being was genuine. That there was a little suspension bridge inspired romantic tension between the two, was something Orison decided to patently ignore until one of them grew enough courage to make it something more than just awareness of each other. Considering that Captain Nadir had taken to not wearing his fake promise ring anymore and Droya's intensity at work affairs, it was going to be the Captain or not at all. Orison held hopes that someone better than a professional soldier, who would always be married to his work first, would be the first to come wooing but he knew that life didn't offer easy chances often, if at all. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, a woman near thirty with no substantial assets of her own didn't garner much attention in this world outside momentary companionship.
Passing thoughts through Orison's mind, as he waited anxiously in the recently expanded and comfortable living area of the consul, "As long as they aren't showing the wrong kind of attention to me or my holdings, anyone who approaches mom is likely legit... I wonder how long will this world will take until they have their first women's liberty movement?... How long will feudalism last? I mean, ancient civilization sentimentality is like a zombie that refuses to be put down here. Is a dark ages unavoidable for progress?...
"How will magic affect the Renaissance and Industrial Revolution periods? Am I living in an early medieval world destined to become steam punk? Will that trend continue until it becomes like a real futuristic magical tech setting? Let's hope it's more like Shaderun or Greywolf and less like First Fantasy!
"I need entertainment, damn it! Let's test the world laws to see what I can 're-invent'... That's strange... At first I could contemplate a lot but after thinking through logistics of getting it done, things started shutting down really quick. There's another factor besides scientific advancement... Prestige! I'm only allotted so much notoriety. Too much potential wealth seems to be a thing too... This is depressing. The more prestige, wealth or secular power I have, the less I can mix things up... I got chills, they're multiplying aaand IIII'm looooosing controwol...How long's this damn meeting going to last!?"