Alechemical Antics

The girl literally growled as she watched the proceedings from the shadows of the treeline. The park had been a nice respite from the heat as the sun beat down on them, a break in a small town, not quite a desert, but the terrain was certainly arid outside of the little village. Inside irrigation had worked most of the misery away, channels enough for the crops, and a few small gardens where the locals could relax and play. It was immediately apparent, however, that something was wrong in Rachleigh; the streets were too quiet for such a small place and businesses were closed in the middle of the day, it was eerie, coming from a small village herself Tsillah felt the disquiet on the air, like the storm she felt overhead. Curling and boiling at the fringes of the savanah it mirrored her rising fury as she watched the hawker work.
Snak oil was something that boiled her blood like little else, both as a Traveller and as a healer, people preying on the vulnerable, those who couldn't fight back and they simply rolled on to the next town.
Fangs bared, completely unnatural for the Ere she resembled, the tail of her naki form threatening the air as it lashed, but she reigned the form in after a few swipes. Her claws still flexed, but with an effort she pulled that back too, completely native to all appearances. The ghosts around her still growled and flickered, however, not liking the whole scenario any more than she herself did. They whispered and murmured to the girl, but she forced her focus on reality, not the veil for the moment. Taking in the leeches and 'poultices' the caravan offered, colored water and sweet smelling salts, all useless, all foul to her senses, and she couldn't stop herself as she grabbed the stranger by his lapels. Nearly toppling him from the box he preached his lies from, "Get your stinking filth," the word was accentuated by a flare of the gold around her, and a dangerous glimmer of green from the snarling saurian form at her left. "Out of my sight, before we hex the living shit out of you." The girl snarled, teeth bared right in the well dressed merchant's face. Syringă, over her shoulder, shrieked her echo of the threat, quilles flared and glowing an ominous, and far more toxic green than her 'brother'. Her maw and eyes were a pulsating, sickly, yellow-orange that oozed pestilence even to Tsillah's skin, but her native abilities negated the same, even as the jungle magic thrummed against her to the same end.

She dropped the man then, letting him scrabble and voice his complaints, she didn't care beyond the fact he wasn't listening. Shoving his lies at her until it made her physically nauseous, she felt the falsities, the echo of chaos in the back of her mind. "Shut. UP!" The words echoed through the space like a crack of thunder, and the storm rumbled approvingly overhead. "Stop your lies and your shit, you will not decieve these people any longer. Help, or get out." There were no other options, no alternatives. Flames, purple and black, flickered around her as the fury rose. They weren't hot, but sucked every drop of heat from the area instead. Siphoned it off until frost cracked the stones around her feet and she rumbled her growl again. Now he was moving, stumbling, but it wasn't fast enough. Syringă acted, fast as lightning, gunk exploded from her maw, sticky tar that made the stranger shriek and scrabble about frantically. Fleeing the square for the wilderness as Tesseract roared and the cart shattered, wood and glass everywhere, but not a splinter struck his rider or the dragon who had scrabbled up around her neck, bristling like a rabid cat.
Tsillah panted as the rain began to fall, cleaning the filth from the streets, and she slowly shook herself. The fury still thrumming as she moved, acted, began pulling the actual regents from the mess. The few herbs there, and moved to the nearest civilian - a small child struck still by the display. Less than a thought nicked her flesh as she knelt, smiled, the wound too small for her to even detect. The blood was enough however, registering what ailed the people here so she could fix it, properly. Not like that trash, "I'm sorry if we scared you?" She whispered, and Syrin leaned forward with a purr so clear the child giggled, coughing after a breath, but Tsillah rubbed her back gently and nudged her toward a woman hesitating nearby. "I'm going to help you all," She spoke, the battlefield cadence carrying easily and clearly through the street.  "Truly, not like that one was trying. I'll stay until everyone is well again, and treatment won't cost you anything but a room to linger and a desk to work at." She added, smiling as that brought no few closer despite her display. Hope weighing the trepidation on their faces as neighbours debated against one another. She let them talk, they would see she meant it.

The girl didn't sleep much over the next days, holed up in a small room in the local inn she worked well into the night. Syringă kept close, chittering thoughts in her ear, while Tesseract poked his head in the window and offered his own thoughts silently. Both dragons made no few supply runs, gathering herbs and regents for their rider as she worked, the plants here were strange, but finding the properties they needed was easy for the jungle dragons. A nibble here, a scrape there, testing, searching. Time slowed to a crawl as they worked, combined things and found better options in the area, until, just as promised, the illness was purged from the village. Every last pustule and cough had subsided before the three slept again, the relentless quest finished. Another week they lingered, just to be sure, it was a familiar bit of paranoia for the girl. She wanted to be positive everyone really was alright, the young girl she had spoken to first brought a bowl in, and she smiled. Patting the seat beside her as Syrin churred a greeting to the child. Sarah had been interested in everything they did, and the elf had no doubts the girl would make an excellent healer one day. Entrusting the cure, and its craft, to her over their stay for the sheer fascination she held. "I think I'll leave these here, just in case you need them?" The alchemist mused, stretching briefly and indicating the books and tools she had used, nothing fancy out this far, but the basics were covered. She hid a smirk as the amber eyes lit like fireworks, ruffling the youngster's hair, "Take care of them, and they'll treat you well." She promised, standing and pulling her cloak back on. It was time to move on, but she made a mental note to stop by the place again... hopefully less explosively next time.

.... Meanwhile, far from Rachleigh, an unfortunate but very well dressed soul vomited and moaned. The once-merchant suffering - quite violently - those same symptoms he had so callously tried to exploit. Proving just how poorly his plan had wrung itself out in the end.