The White Phial

Allysian Liore - Windhelm

Through the gates, Ally immediately noticed the sign for Candlehearth Hall, it was far too early in the day to check in here, but she would return for a meal and lodging later. On the advice of the guards, Ally went left from the entrance and headed towards the Stone Quarter, Windhelm's market district.

Windhelm had a sad, mournful type of beauty to Ally. The centuries old architecture, the ever-present snow, puffs of smoke emanating from the chimneys of every building. It was all so beautiful. The familiar scents of the marketplace started to fill her nose and brought a quiet smile to her face. As usual, there were people hustling and bustling about, and Ally melted into the crowd.

The familiar clang of hammer to steel brought another smile to her face as she thought of Balimund. I'd better write him, tell him that I'm okay, she thought. The meats looked particularly fine, Ally longed for a kitchen in which to cook something. Deer, Rabbit, Chicken, Beef... and something unfamiliar, Horker. Ally had never tasted Horker before, but had heard that it was delicious, fatty, oily, and tender. She would definitely sample that if the Inn served it.

The White Phial. Ally broke free of the crowd and looked upon its carved sign. She admired the choice of name for the business, the White Phial was the stuff of legends among those in the Alchemist trade. The White Phial was an enchanted vial that could replenish any liquid that was poured into it. Whether it actually existed or not was a topic hotly debated. Ally opened the door, a small bell announced her entrance.

Neither of the two men inside paid the bell any attention. They argued back and forth for some time before the older man acknowledged the woman standing in front of him.

"Greetings traveler, welcome to the White Phial. I am Nurelion, owner and master alchemist here. We have a fine selection of potions and alchemy reagents if you're interested."

"Thank you, Nurelion, I'm Allysian Liore, sorry to be nosy, but what was that argument about?" Ally inquired.

"Ah that fool of an apprentice. He wants me to give up my life-long dream! Just a man's life work is all. I've finally derived the location of the White Phial, but this doting busybody won't let me get it!" Nureliion shouted. Ally saw his apprentice shaking his head as he continued sweeping the floor.

"The White Phial? That's just legend isn't it?"

"Ah so you've heard of it then? Fancy yourself an alchemist? Well it is real I tell you. Sadly, I'm the only one that knows its location, but I've grown too old and sickly to go out adventuring. My quest for the White Phial brought me all the way to these frozen reaches from the warm embrace of Summerset Isle," Nurelion's focus drifted off, recalling his adventures, "Entire years spent in libraries. Seeking out tiny villages with local legends that contain but a whisper of a hint of the Phial. As you can see, I even named my shop after it, hoping that it might attract anyone who had heard of it. And now it's within my grasp... but the Eight, it seems, have chosen me for their amusement. For in my condition, I'll never be able to lay my hands on it."

"If you tell me where it is, I can go get it for you."

"You?" Nurelion eyed Ally suspiciously, "Well the path is fraught with danger my dear."

"The existence of such an artifact is of extreme importance to the Alchemist Trade. I will help you Nurelion."

Nurelion smiled, "You would do that? It's good to know there are some people out there who are willing to help an old man. It's buried with its maker, Curalmil, in a long forsaken cave to the west of here." Nurelion pulled a map out from under his counter. "Curalmil was a crafty one, even in death. You would need the skills of a master alchemist to reach his resting place. Luckily for you, I've already made the mixture. Here, take it." Nurelion pulled a green vial from under his countertop and offered it to Ally.

Ally examined the green liquid, clear when still, turning opaque once she shook it a bit.

"Please, don't dally. I've wasted enough time arguing with my useless assistant here. May the Eight guide you to the Phial..." Nurelion coughed violently and headed up the stairs to rest.

Ally turned to his assistant, "You don't think the White Phial exists?"

He replied, "It doesn't matter what I believe. Nurelion does, and it might be the only thing keeping him alive right now. I'm Quintus by the way."

"Oh Quintus, I have a note for your from Sondas at Darkwater Crossing. They are in urgent need of medicines, some of their miners have shown symptoms of Crackrock."

"Oh my, Crackrock. That's serious. I'll get on it right away, the courier will make the delivery tomorrow morning. Thank you. If you need to use the alchemy table, be my guest. Just please clean up when you're done and try not to use any Giant's Toe, master Nurelion gets nauseous from the smell."

Ally purchased a few ingredients from Quintus as well as a couple dozen small vials. She used her supplies to craft a bunch of health and stamina potions which she stashed carefully into her satchel. She stayed for about an hour, chatting with Quintus about her travels, as he filled her in on the goings-on within Windhelm. Quintus warned Ally about The Butcher, and that she should stay indoors after dark.

With the sunlight hidden by overcast clouds, the day was much shorter than Ally was used to. She gathered up her ingredients, wiped the alchemy table clean and bid Quintus farewell. Nurelion never returned from upstairs. Ally closed the door behind her and headed to Candlehearth Hall, thoughts of tender horker meat on her mind.