Pick your Poison
Happy Birthday, Isolde. -Father
Isolde stared down at the note that her father left her, then down at the raspberry tart that was laid out on a white plate. He definitely broke into her house to leave it here, most likely last night while she was out. Well, at least her father didn't try to kill her with his non-stop training as a birthday present this year. The Assassin-in-training rummaged through the first drawer to get herself a spoon, a quick taste wouldn't hurt, seeing as he left it for her as a gift. Hopefully, he didn't poison it, and claimed its to do with her training if she confronts him about it.
The first bite was good, the raspberry was sweet and bitter on her tongue, and the texture of the crumbly crust was enjoyable. Though, there was a strange surgery aftertaste. "I wonder where he got this from. That old man definitely did not make it." It was good. She doubted he made it, considering his cooking gave her food poisoning the one time he tried cooking when she was fourteen.
She shrugged, a bakery was the most likely reason. Turning the letter around, she paused mid bite, setting her fork down. The bastard did poison the damn tart!
The tart is poisoned, consider it your first lesson on poison resistance. The antidote is somewhere in that tavern you frequent and whore yourself out in. Don't worry, it's a slow acting poison. If you don't find it withing 12 hours. I am sad to say, goodbye, my daughter. - Love, Father
"Damnit! Can't I get just one normal birthday gift from him! And 'love father' what kind of psychopath says that after poisoning their child!?" Isolde glared down at the raspberry tart, a scowl on her face. It was delicious, too bad it was poisoned. Though, she supposed if she was already poisoned, it wouldn't hurt to eat the rest of it.
"I should've known he poisoned the damn tart!" She had a guess, but didn't think he'd actually do it... to his own daughter nonetheless.
What a lovely birthday this year has been.
* * *
Dear old dad had to poison the damn cake and the fool that she was had to eat it. Should've known it would have been to do with her training, her father wasn't the best with gift giving even on birthdays. His idea of birthday gifts was training.
Isolde wasn't in a good mood today, before she ate that cake she was in a happy mood, but with the threat of dying from poisoning. It was a shitty day indeed. She sighed, rubbing her face as she stood outside the tavern. "I'm going to kill him next time I see that old bastard."
The bar was near empty when she stepped in, and it was cozy as ever. The antidote had to be around here somewhere. She will check the main room first, and if she cannot find it down here, she will check every single room leading up those tavern steps. She gave the the barkeep and barmaid a strained smile as she searched every square inch of the main room, under tables, chairs, and trying to discreetly search over the bar counter. Unfortunately, her search wasn't successful.
Isolde was in a terrible mood indeed.
She strolled to the bar, ordered a glass of water. Her smile was strained, she needed to find that antidote within 12 hours.
5 Glade 123
Happy Birthday, Isolde. -Father
Isolde stared down at the note that her father left her, then down at the raspberry tart that was laid out on a white plate. He definitely broke into her house to leave it here, most likely last night while she was out. Well, at least her father didn't try to kill her with his non-stop training as a birthday present this year. The Assassin-in-training rummaged through the first drawer to get herself a spoon, a quick taste wouldn't hurt, seeing as he left it for her as a gift. Hopefully, he didn't poison it, and claimed its to do with her training if she confronts him about it.
The first bite was good, the raspberry was sweet and bitter on her tongue, and the texture of the crumbly crust was enjoyable. Though, there was a strange surgery aftertaste. "I wonder where he got this from. That old man definitely did not make it." It was good. She doubted he made it, considering his cooking gave her food poisoning the one time he tried cooking when she was fourteen.
She shrugged, a bakery was the most likely reason. Turning the letter around, she paused mid bite, setting her fork down. The bastard did poison the damn tart!
The tart is poisoned, consider it your first lesson on poison resistance. The antidote is somewhere in that tavern you frequent and whore yourself out in. Don't worry, it's a slow acting poison. If you don't find it withing 12 hours. I am sad to say, goodbye, my daughter. - Love, Father
"Damnit! Can't I get just one normal birthday gift from him! And 'love father' what kind of psychopath says that after poisoning their child!?" Isolde glared down at the raspberry tart, a scowl on her face. It was delicious, too bad it was poisoned. Though, she supposed if she was already poisoned, it wouldn't hurt to eat the rest of it.
"I should've known he poisoned the damn tart!" She had a guess, but didn't think he'd actually do it... to his own daughter nonetheless.
What a lovely birthday this year has been.
* * *
Dear old dad had to poison the damn cake and the fool that she was had to eat it. Should've known it would have been to do with her training, her father wasn't the best with gift giving even on birthdays. His idea of birthday gifts was training.
Isolde wasn't in a good mood today, before she ate that cake she was in a happy mood, but with the threat of dying from poisoning. It was a shitty day indeed. She sighed, rubbing her face as she stood outside the tavern. "I'm going to kill him next time I see that old bastard."
The bar was near empty when she stepped in, and it was cozy as ever. The antidote had to be around here somewhere. She will check the main room first, and if she cannot find it down here, she will check every single room leading up those tavern steps. She gave the the barkeep and barmaid a strained smile as she searched every square inch of the main room, under tables, chairs, and trying to discreetly search over the bar counter. Unfortunately, her search wasn't successful.
Isolde was in a terrible mood indeed.
She strolled to the bar, ordered a glass of water. Her smile was strained, she needed to find that antidote within 12 hours.
"Common" | 00FFF6
"Sknskrit" | 0061FF