Completely oblivious to Beistmild's inner turmoil about whether to spook Morrigan a little by picking Dragon-Be-Gone, Morrigan gave a resolute nod in response to the offer. Of course, they did not doubt the validity of Beistmild's own potions, but whatever made the gentle giant feel better. "In that case, we shall try one another's potions in a show of solidarity between master chemists!" They cried while reaching into their bag, searching for one of their more benign potions. Most of them were poisons, but they did have a couple of minor healing potions and elixirs that would not immediately send Beistmild to an early grave.

"Here! Perhaps this will assure you of the quality of my work."^[1]

They handed Beistmild the potion to drink, a crystalline vial filled with swirling silvery liquid that resembled molten metal. "This particular elixir is designed to enhance your sight. A rather simple brew, but an effective one that has aided my search in the quest to join the Golden Consortium many times."

"And I am more than happy to try whatever potion of your own choosing." They said. They supposed it was only fair that they also drink one of his own. On their shoulders, the sparkle-lings danced in excitement- ready for what, Morrigan wasn't sure. Perhaps they were anticipating Beistmild giving them some kind of poison or something along those lines, and were ready to watch their creator receive a taste of their own medicine for once.

---

1. Eagle's Sight Potion

Beist lifted his hand up to let the dirtlings move onto his shoulder. They moved in a single file line. Beist was impressed with how well organized they were, and diligent. He hadn't even needed to tell them to move, they just understood what he'd wanted from his movement alone. He'd have to name them later, but he was already thinking of some for them based on the amount of buds they each had poking out of them.

"Oh? That sounds interesting!" Beist said as he took the potion from Morrigan. The thought of the bottle actually containing any kind of poison never occurred to the good natured beast man, and he hadn't even considered trying to poison Morrigan either. He didn't even have any poisons on him. He always made sure those were well locked away in his wagon, safe from being accidentally found by any of his pets, some of which liked to climb into his clothes to take a nap or look through his pockets. No, he really didn't like to carry around anything as dangerous as poisons.

A slight tick of annoyance shot through Beist as Morrigan mentioned being in the Golden Consortium yet again. He wasn't sure if they were trying to rub it in his face or not at this point, or if they were just not aware of how it made the old alchemist feel. Beist opened a pouch on his waist and pulled out a tiny glass vial with an opaque dark purple liquid inside and held it out to Morrigan. "This potion has also helped me in my own pursuits. It makes one's movements completely silent, including whatever you touch! Very handy when trying to go unnoticed." Beist explained enthusiastically. "It does not, however, silence your voice." he added, almost regretfully. "So that is something to keep in mind while using it."

He uncorked the bottle that Morrigan had given him and held it out as if giving a toast. "At the same time, then?"

---

Potion of Shadows

“A potion that silences you?” Morrigan’s brow rose as Beistmild offered the violet brew in return. The idea of a potion that silenced your movements was interesting, and probably something that would have helped Morrigan countless times in the past. But why did he sound so sad that it didn’t silence your voice! People loved listening to the dulcet tones and excitement of Morrigan’s monologues! The fact that someone might actually want to silence them was unthinkable. Maybe Beistmild simply had a headache or something along the like… that was the only rational explanation for his pinched annoyance, obviously. “I will gladly try this wonderful elixir of yours!”

They raised the glass in a celebratory toast alongside Beistmild- it took some effort to get to his level to tap the glasses together, given the difference in their height, but Morrigan managed somehow. “Together, then! In three… two… one…”

They downed Beistmild’s potion the way one might drink a shot of powerful liquor at the same time Beistmild drank Morrigan’s own potion. Morrigan was not surprised in the slightest when a strange cold sensation seemed to take over them, like being wrapped in a blanket of frost. Perhaps to Beistmild’s surprise, Morrigan’s own potion seemed to work just as intended.

“Wow.” They marveled as they experimentally took a couple of steps, completely silent and muffled despite the grass and twigs under their boots that should have been crunching. “This is rather impressive! How did you manage something like this?”

Their mind was already reeling with ideas of how to create such an effect- the kind of ingredients they might use, and how they would brew them to achieve the intended purpose. It seemed like it would be simple, but for someone who wasn’t used to stifling their light, it was difficult to imagine depriving the world of their natural charisma. Maybe it would be useful in the future, though- loathe as they were to admit it, Morrigan could use a little stealth in their repertoire.

Beist very carefully tapped the bottles together, not wanting to break them due to underestimating his strength for what wouldn't have been the first time in Morrigan's presence. He pretty much let Morrigan just tap his bottle against Beist's while Beist held his still. 

He downed Morrigan's potion in a single gulp. Almost on instinct, he let the potion wash over his tongue, wanting to try and get a sense of the ingredients through taste, but then swallowed when he realized it might be rude to try and pry into someone else's formula. He wouldn't want Morrigan stealing his own recipe. He felt a bit of warmth that moved from his stomach to his face and then his eyes felt out of focus, everything blurry. He was worried for a second that he might be going blind, but then everything came back into focus, and it was much clearer than ever before. He could see farther and in more detail!

He looked around, noticing the tiny details around him. He could see Ned still crawling around on Dora as if he was standing right in front of them. There was a bit of glitter on Ned's back, and he could see it even from this distance! He'd deal with that later, but for now this was incredible!

"Oh my, this is amazing! I can see so well! How did you make this?" Beist blurted out as he continued to look around with a big smile.

Then he realized he and Morrigan had asked basically the same question of each other.

"Ah, my apologies. That recipe is a secret. I'm sure yours must be as well! Alchemists can't go giving away all their secrets, or we'd never be able to stay in business, yes?" he said sheepishly.

Morrigan pursed their lips as Beistmild offered some excuse about an alchemist keeping their secrets. Perhaps for someone who was on the receiving end of plenty of horrible failures when it came to their scams, one would think that they were more accustomed to dealing with denial, but Morrigan really didn’t like being told no. They got what they wanted, no matter what they had to do to get it. Beistmild clearly didn’t seem to hold them in high regard for reasons that Morrigan couldn’t comprehend (though ones that had everything to do with the kobold who had currently settled down for his afternoon nap on his treasure pile), which meant that Morrigan just had to find a way to get him to trust them with his secrets.

They could find a way to sweet-talk him into giving up his secrets, they were sure of it. They just had to find the right way to endear themselves to him.

Talking about the Golden Consortium clearly didn’t work, for some reason. Beistmild almost seemed… annoyed that Morrigan had some leg to stand on as an alchemist over him, rather than in awe of Morrigan’s expertise and power. That, too, was another foreign feeling. Morrigan didn’t like the feeling of disrespect.

They just needed to find some other way to earn Beistmild’s loyalty, something the older man liked. Well, he was into those fuzzy beasts, wasn’t he? Morrigan normally hated animals, and based on the way Pretzels had reacted to them earlier, the feeling was clearly mutual. But if getting Beistmild to talk about his pets or something equally as sappy was what he needed to like Morrigan, then they’d sit and listen.

“Ah, of course, of course.” They waved a hand, stray glitter escaping the pouch in their pocket with the motion and fluttering lazily in the air. They winked at Beistmild, as if the two of them were in on some inside joke. “Alchemist’s secret. Then you understand why I cannot reveal my own tricks. I will simply have to remain in awe of your talents, and figure out how to brew such a concoction of my own… though I doubt I could compare to a man of your own caliber. Clearly, you are talented in many areas - not just alchemy, but beastkeeping as well. Tell me… how did a man such as yourself come into the care of so many wonderful animals?”

They batted their eyes for good measure.

Beist wasn't one to typically be fooled or easily give in to flattery, but that was when one was trying to flatter him based on his own abilities or looks. When Morrigan complimented his wonderful animals, he couldn't have been more easily hooked than if he had been a fish already in Morrigan's hand.

"Oh, they really are quite wonderful aren't they? Well, I have a different story for every one of them, you know. I met them all at different times and slowly took each of them in. Oh, who should I start with? Oh, yes! Dora! She was the first companion I made in my travels. The griffon, over there. Isn't she adorable? Such a majestic creature, and a wonderful companion! Very intelligent, too! She can pull the wagon without any instructions really, I just like to sit behind her to keep her company as we travel. I don't know what I'd do without her! Aren't her feather gorgeous? I collect her shed ones to make my own quills, they're really the only ones large enough for me to use comfortably. They're also quite strong, not so fragile like other feathers. Oh, you should see her spread her wings and fly! It's quite the sight! Scared a few people on occasion though!" Beist laughed. He'd entirely lost track of the conversation, forgetting about telling Morrigan where he'd met each of his pets and instead going off on a tangent to gush about Dora. It was typical of him to get lost in conversation about magical creatures, especially his own.

His tail wagged behind him through the entire conversation. The dirtlings started to climb around on him without his notice as he happily spoke, his eyes practically closed as he reminisced and his smile wide.

Yes, Morrigan had struck the goldmine indeed.

The… neverending goldmine.

How much did Sir Beistmild truly have to say about a couple of smelly animals? The snake was cute, sure, but it was like listening to a grandfather who had naught to talk about but his beloved grandchildren. For once in their life, Morrigan was getting a taste of their own medicine, and they had not realized how utterly boring it was to listen to another one’s monologuing. One might think that listening to Beistmild go on about his beloved griffon, that Morrigan would probably have some sort of epiphany about their own tendency to ramble on and hold other’s attention without a second thought. But whoever would think that clearly underestimated Morrigan Moonweaver’s utter lack of self-awareness and their fully unwarranted confidence in themselves.

But gods, could Beistmild talk about his animals. Morrigan had nearly fallen asleep with their head resting delicately in their palm, nodding along as they went through the motions of nodding while Beistmild gushed about his beloved pet. He really did hold a lot of love for them… his tail was even wagging behind him, like a father speaking excitedly about his wayward, fuzzy children. it was almost endearing to hear.

Until Morrigan made the grave mistake of asking-

“Dora seems like an absolutely lovely companion, indeed. How did you come to find her?”

-And they resisted the urge to slam their head against the wooden paneling of their wagon. Well, there went the rest of their afternoon, and maybe their evening, too. It was a hell of a lot of effort just to attempt to pawn some snake oil on the guy and call it a day, were they really willing to listen to all of this just for a scam?

Yes. The answer was yes.

All they had to do was try not to fall asleep. Easy!

"Oh, yes, of course! My apologies, I got a bit off track there, didn't I? How I met Dora! I met her while I was travelling in Frost Gale, up in the mountains. I was on the hunt for some rare herbs that had been rumored to be up there, somehow able to grow in such frigid conditions. I thought they may be useful for a potion I had been trying to brew, one to-"

Beist actually stopped his endless rambling of his own accord! His cheerful attitude faltered for a moment, his tail slowing down for a second before he began again. His smile came back and his tail's speed picked back up as he continued to speak about Dora, but it was clear that potion he'd brought up was not something he wished to speak about.

"Ah, never mind that! What was I saying? Oh, yes, in the mountains! I was hunting for herbs in the mountains, and while I was up there, I found Dora. She was injured, attacked by poachers trying to take the hide of a majestic griffon home as a trophy. Despicable people, poachers! What's so fun about having a head mounted on your wall? I just don't understand it. But, as I was saying, I found her injured. I gave her a potion to heal her wounds and some food. It took a little time, but she started to trust me, and then she actually wanted to come with me! I was delighted to have her you know, she was the first companion of mine to start travelling with me. It can be quite lonely on the road, so her company was much appreciated."

Beist looked over again at the big griffon lying in the grass, bathing in the sun as if she was a lazy housecat rather than an enormous beast. He smiled and looked back to Morrigan.

"She might be a bit frightening, but she's very sweet once you get to know her. I was surprised to see her in the mountains, her being half eagle, half lion! Lions live in much warmer places, but griffons are actually very well acclimated to living on mountains! Her fur keeps her a lot warmer than you might think, and her feathers have a very well insulated down coat beneath them. Also, her sheer size alone contributes greatly to her being able to stay warm. The larger a creature is, the more heat they produce inside them. One of the reasons I'm always so warm myself!"

Beist laughed heartily again, his rambling about Dora, the wonderful griffon, apparently nowhere near finished.

Truly, Morrigan tried to pay attention.

But the longer this dragged on, it became apparent that they’s awoken some sort of slumbering beast within Sir Beistmild, spurned on by his love of, well, his beasts. But he looked genuinely happy, and it wasn’t a crime to lighten his day, even if it was all for the sake of selling him some damn potions, right? It felt like hours passed between him starting and getting to the tale of how he’d actually met Dora. The sun and the moon themselves could have exploded in the time it took for Beistmild to finish his story, and it was obvious that he wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

How long had it been? Surely, hours? Days, even? Morrigan glanced at the timepiece they kept in their pocket, only to nearly faint in surprise when they saw it had only been five minutes. Ginma, how long could this guy go on for?

Morrigan could do this. They just had to stay strong, keep their eyes open a little longer…

THUD!

Morrigan had already fallen asleep from sheer boredom before they even landed back in their wagon, unable to keep up any longer. It seemed their body had finally given up on them. Morrigan did a lot of things for the sake of the con, but it appeared this time, Sir Beistmild had emerged victorious.

"And her hunting instinct is extraordinary! Like she has that of an eagle and a lion combined! And a female at that! Did you know the female lions are the primary hunters? They're also exceptional at working in teams since most of the animals they hunt are actually faster or larger than them, like zebras and antelopes. They need to rely on tactics and teamwork. Dora's head might be that of an eagle, but she has more of the mind of a lion, that's for sure! Or maybe the mind of a cat! She loves taking naps and lying in the sunlight so much, she's just like a cute little kitten, isn't she?" Beist laughed again, not even noticing as Morrigan's head thudded on the table as he fell asleep.  Like Morrigan, Pretzels had also given in to the boredom and dozed off tucked into the fur around Beist's neck without the happy beast man even noticing.

Beist just kept talking while Morrigan slept. The dirtlings climbed off of Beist and started exploring the wagon. Soon, they found some ink and small brushed that they carried over and began to draw happily on Morrigan's unconscious face. Beist didn't see them at all, completely lost in the entirely one-sided conversation.

After a while, Ned and Dora came over, the huge beak of the griffon poking Beist in the back.

"Huh? Oh, Dora! We were just talking about you! Yes, I was explaining to Morrigan here how amazing your eyesight is, why, it might even be better than mine was after I drank his potion, and that potion made my eyesight quite remarkable! Do you think-"

Ned buzzed loudly.

"Oh! Yes, you're right, it is getting to be about that time, isn't it?" Beist turned back to Morrigan who was still knocked out on the table, now with doodles of flowers drawn all across his face. "Well, we must be on our way! It was a pleasure meeting you! Goodbye, Bubbles!"

Beist scooped up the dirtlings and placed them on his shoulder before heading back to his wagon with Dora and Ned. With his supply of herbs refilled and Dora harnessed to the front again, she pulled the wagon around and left back up the trail they had entered the clearing from.

ZZZ……

The sun had already set, and Morrigan was still passed out on the floor of their cart where Beistmild had left them. With the scribbles that the dirtlings had left over their face, and a little bit of drool down the side of their cheek, and their loud snores echoing through the sleepy glade, they were the complete opposite of a put together and elegant wizard. So much time had passed that Bubbles eventually woke up from his afternoon nap, and decided it was time to wake Master Moonweaver up for dinner. With a bright smile, the kobold reared up before jumping and throwing himself right onto Morrigan’s chest.

ZZZ… SNRK-!

“What the hell?” Morrigan gasped as they immediately shot up in pain, throwing Bubbles onto the floor with the motion. “What’s going on?” Last thing they remembered, they’d been speaking with the gentle giant, Beistmild, and then, they’d been dreaming about griffons for some reason? And that they had good eyesight? That was weird. But then what had happened…?

“I must have fallen asleep.” They mumbled, running a hand through the tangled rat’s nest in their hair.

“Master Moonweaver took a nap and Friend Beistmild went away!” Bubbles cheered, nodding along as Morrigan pulled themselves to their feet, still a little woozy.

“So, he left me, huh?” They said, irritation leaking into their tone despite the fact that it was entirely unjustified, and they’d pretty much only been listening to scam Beistmild. Well. They’d failed this time, but the next time they saw Beistmild, they’d be the one emerging victorious. And with a heaping handful of cash after pawning a bunch of snake oil on the kindly old man.

That would show him for leaving them unconscious in their wagon - Morrigan Moonweaver would not be slighted so easily!