(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

chief."
It certainly sounded exotic. I fished for a few coppers, "We'll try some
fireseeds."
The merchant pocketed my coin and smiled, offering a small paper pouch of
small, red seeds, "Don't swallow them; simply spit them out when they've
finished tingling."
For each seed I popped into my mouth, I flicked one in the air to Morte who
caught it with his tongue. The seeds, sweet and tasting faintly of cinnamon,
became warm and tingled in my mouth... it took a moment for me to realize
that they've actually burst into flame. Soon, however, the sensation died out
and I spat them into the gutter.
We leaned back against a barrel as we idly finished off the seeds, and I
mused to myself that it wasn't exactly polite for an apprentice to keep
Mebbeth waiting. Then again, she probably expected this to take a while.
I crumpled the paper bag in my hands and tossed it aside, still hungry. "I
think I'll have a Gar-Bar root too."
"Here," he said, giving me a couple of small brown cubes of what looked to
be rubbery vegetable matter, "It is quite chewy... do not swallow it, but spit
it out when it no longer has taste."
I popped one in my mouth and gave the other to Morte. The root, initially
quite hard and difficult to chew, had a sweet, syrupy taste. Soon it became
soft and gummy, and I found myself merrily smacking away.
I plucked the seed out from my pouch as I chewed and turned to the
merchant. Perhaps he knew something, "Sir, Mebbeth, the midwife of the
Square, needs some herbs sprung from this seed, here. Can you help me?"
The man took the seed, looked at it critically... as he pressed it between his
thumb and forefinger, he winced, and a small drop of blood appeared on his
thumb. "Ah! This seed's got a bite on it..."
"I noticed that. Do you have the herbs she's talking about?" I looked over his
cart again.
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