<strong><span class="bbc_u"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Mirish</span></span></strong><br/><br/>As recogniseable as Mirish ought to have been, Mediocrates was not famed for his powers of retention as regarded anything outside of his craft. He seemed not to recognise her and, to that end, he bristled as the way she addressed him in a familiar manner.<br/><br/>"It is quite nothing," he insisted. "A mere lapse of preparation and an unfortunate escape. It will diffuse quickly..."<br/><br/><em>Alchemical insight check critical pass means Mirish can tell the fumes are the result of something being burned by acid. She can also tell that this is no acid she's encountered before, and is something far more potent by far.</em><br/><br/>Seeing that Mirish was not convinced by his explanation, Mediocrates sighed and sagged his shoulders.<br/><br/>"It is the third time this has happened," he said. "And by far the worst case. I'm going to have to give up in this particular formula I think. I have created an acid which can eat through<em>any</em>material I've seen it come into contact with. I'm sure it would be useful as a weapon, or perhaps a skilled craftsman could use it, such as a sculptor maybe.<br/><br/>The problem is...it can east through any material I've seen it come into contact with! I can create it, but I cannot contain it. Anything I put it in is destroyed...along with the desk and a good portion of my laboratory floor."<br/><br/>He coughed and wafted the door again. The fumes were indeed started to disperse slowly.<br/><br/>"I fear there is nothing you can do about the present situation," he said. "However, you seem to know something of the craft and the nature of acids. You also seem to be wont to travel further afield than I can avail to do. If you see or hear of some material that might resist my acid, do me a favour and let me know, would you?"<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_u"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Rag / Leigh / Torner</span></span></strong><br/><br/>The bard briefly stopped singing and looked darkly at Rag when she interrupted him with her outburst. Perhaps his chagrin was less with the interruption than with the fact that her improper limerick seemed to cause more mirth than any part of his<em>own</em>performance.<br/><br/><em>In answer to Torner's question about food, Mirith would know that the Whiskered Squid offers basic food to satisfy the tastes of drink-heavy pallettes, but that the Norther Harbour has a pier where good seafood is served including the chef's renowed crayfish stew.</em><br/><br/>At the entrance to the tavern, a small commotion seemed to be escalating. A man in farmers clothes appeared to be making demands or making a statement of some kind. About four men were trying to push him out of the tavern with pitying expressions, as though encouraging him to abandon his business and go home. Two worried men still sitting down spoke up to suggest they let the farmer speak, though they did so reservedly so as not to find themselves on the wrong side of a sudden altercation.