Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

After his experience with Rose the rather quirky librarian, Darius was somewhat hesitant to accept offers of employment that were not clearly intended for someone with experience in either seafaring or woodworking.

And yet he still inexplicably found himself at Peytr's Pots and Potions, responding to a notice he'd seen about the apothecary needing volunteers. The parchment he held in his hand as he stepped through the doorway and into the store had said nothing about what was required. Darius was hoping it was something simple, such as lifting heavy crates or perhaps helping the owners keep a record of what items they had in stock.

That all changed when he caught his first glimpse inside the store, for it was extremely tidy. There was surely no chance that the store owners wouldn't know how much stock they had.

"Welcome to Peytr's Pots and Potions!" a cheerful voice greeted him.

Darius looked up to see a man standing behind the counter.

"I am Peytr, and these..." the man announced, puffing out his chest and sweeping his arms across his wares, "...are my pots and potions!"

"Uh," was all Darius managed to say, unsure what to make of the cheerful man's sales pitch.

"What can I help you with, good sir?" Peytr asked.

Darius stepped across the shop, and placed the parchment on the counter.

"Actually, I came here because of this," he offered with a polite smile.

Peytr must have known what the parchment said, for he had most likely written it himself, but he took his time to pick it up and study it closely all the same.

"Ah," he eventually said, then he hesitated until Darius' silent questioning gaze convinced him to continue. "You see, this was not meant for you."

"It wasn't?"

"No. You see, I've been working on a serum that fights against baldness, and you...you don't seem to suffer from it."

"Ah," Darius echoed Peytr's earlier statement.

"But..." Peytr added, then sighed. "...but you're the only one to volunteer for quite some time, so I'm sure we can arrange something. It would mean your hair would grow longer - assuming the serum works, of course. I will ensure your hair is returned to normal when we're finished."

The shopkeeper looked up at Darius hopefully, who offered a slow nod of agreement as he pondered the possibility of his hair growing longer. He could just cut it off if it got too long, he decided. How bad could it be?

Darius left Peytr's Pots and Potions with a sense of unease. Peytr has assured him that the serum, which the proprietor hoped would stimulate hair growth, was otherwise harmless and would not have any untoward side effects. But then, after he had rubbed the curious liquid through the seafarer's blond hair and into his scalp, the apothecary had backtracked on that, saying that was his sincere hope, but as Darius was the first test subject, there was no way of knowing for sure.

That had annoyed the bearded blond, but there was little that could be done, and so he made his way across Scalvoris Town to his home. Peytr had suggested he withhold from doing anything strenuous, and to just enjoy dinner and go to sleep, and then see if there was any change the following morning.

That part of the treatment certainly agreed with him, for he had developed quite the appetite, and after cooking himself a rabbit stew and reading a bit of the acrobatics book he had acquired at the library - but resisting the temptation to attempt any of the maneuvers himself - he settled climbed into bed and settled down to sleep.

Darius struggled to wake up the next morning. It wasn't that he was exhausted and needed extra rest; he simply found himself unable to open his eyes.

It took several trills for his other senses to kick in, and he soon realised that something was pressing against his face. It was as if he was wearing a mask that was strapped too tightly around him. He attempted to open his mouth, but all he could do was taste...

...hair!

Darius sat bolt upright in his bed. His head felt heavy, and he reached his hands to his face and parted thick layers of hair. With that follicular mask removed, he was finally able to open his eyes and pull the loose strands that had made their way to his mouth.

He looked across the room to his mirror, but as he rolled out of his bed and attempted to take a step, he felt his hair being pulled and he tripped over, falling into a hairy mess on the floor. Cursing his misfortune, and making bold accusations about Peytr's parents' marital status, Darius shuffled on all fours until he reached the mirror. Grabbing hold of the bed frame and using it to pull him back onto his feet, Darius parted the hair in front of his face and looked at his reflection.

The bearded blond was more bearded and blond than he'd ever been in his life. His hair had grown so long that it reached the floor, so he'd need to keep it away from his feet if he didn't want to trip over again. And his beard now reached his waist! Darius pulled back one sleeve of his night clothes, revealing a forearm so covered in blond hair that it could have been mistaken for fur.

The woodworker was not known for having ribbons with which to tie his hair back as women often did, but he had rope. It took several determined attempts, most involving painful and accidental extractions of hairs getting tangled in the knots, but he was eventually able to tie his hair back in a very unflattering manner.

Another curse followed, and the seafarer attempted to get dressed, but he very quickly realised that it was pointless to attempt to complete such a task with a blanket of hair coveting him, so he resorted to simply pulling on his coat over his night clothes.

He forced his feet into his leather boots, the excessive amounts of hair on his lower legs effectively becoming his socks, and he stepped out into the street. His curses, which were muffled by the long hair on his upper lip, continued as he rushed back to Peytr's Pots and Potions.

Peytr just about fell over when Darius did that very thing, his rope having come loose, and his hair getting tangled about his boots. The (very) bearded blond just grunted angrily and pulled himself back onto his feet as he approached the counter.

"Fix it," he growled as he slammed his hand on the counter, though his voice was muffled behind a forest of fuzz.

"Oh yes, of course," Peytr forced a smile, trying to retain both his optimism and his professionalism in the face of complete and utter disaster. "I'm sure we can get you back to just how you were!"

Fortunately for Darius - and, perhaps, more fortunately for Peytr - the apothecary had prepared an antiserum to combat his serum. It was all a bit confusing to the woodworker, but the explanation provided was that because he already had hair, the serum was too powerful. Had he been bald, the concoction would have had to force new hair to appear where there was no longer growth. But the blond client did not have such limitations, and so it had taken hold much more aggressively than intended.

Darius was hopeful that the antiserum would work quickly, but he was told it would be another overnight treatment. Not willing to leave the store in his fur-covered state, lest he terrify small children or walk blindly into the harbour, he insisted that the man find a good pair of scissors and at least do the decent thing by giving him a haircut. As it turned out, Peytr was less confident in his shearing abilities than in his antiserum.

So it was that the seafarer stepped back into the street, his rope in hand, two potions apologetically given to him in the other, as well as a rather haphazard fringe and a patchy beard - but he wasn't willing to let the apothecary attemot to clean up his effort. Darius was just grateful to be able to see where he was going, and he made his way back across town, deciding to remain inside his home for the rest of the trial. He didn't want to risk any more hair incidents until he was confident that the antiserum was working.

Mercifully, when he awoke the next trial, he found that his arm hair and his leg hair - and, err, his other hair - had receded back to its normal state, and he reminded himself why he shouldn't accept invitations to volunteer for something that he clearly wasn't needed for.