Notes and papers with hastily scribbled notes lay scattered all over Floris' floor and decorate his walls. For the past several days he had been researching and studying the samples that he and Alvis took from Deadwood Creek, trying to understand what they found and hoping he could come up with a cure. He had been studying his samples for six days straight and had only slept for an hour each day. With each passing day, however, he grew more desperate and took more risks than he normally would. The studies he had done on his rats showed what happens when something drinks the water or eats the vegetation that was in the area and it truly horrified him.
Anything that eats or drinks from the area dies in less than half a day. Their internal organs start decaying from the inside out and their heart rate drops at a considerable rate. The body eventually goes completely numb and the victim is forced to endure the pain of feeling their body decaying from the inside while not being able to move, like a very painful and deadly paralysis poison. He had already known that whatever they found wasn't natural, but he never expected these kinds of results. He hated to admit it, but he was in over his head. No matter what he tried, nothing seemed to heal his rats from the blackened soil or water.
Floris frantically flipped through his journals and tried every single potion he had made over the years; even the oldest and most basic ones he ever made. His supply of rats dwindled quickly and so did his supply of alchemical ingredients. At best, he was looking at another two days before he'd have to journey out again for herbs, but that wasn't what bothered him. What disturbed him the most was his dwindling supply of swamp rats. They were next to impossible to catch in the wild and were even harder to find. He had another six rats at most, but three of them were less than a month old. He was quickly running out of methods and time. Once the black water found its way into one of the two creeks the village got its water from...it was over. The lives he and everyone else knew would be lost.
Floris gritted his teeth as he stared out his window. His home and the only place he knew in the world was at risk and he didn't know how to save it. Anger swelled up inside him and he decided to resort to more desperate approaches. It was a risky hand he was playing, but he was out of methods and ideas...and he was almost out of time. He pulled a chest wrapped in chains out from under his bed and unlocked it. This chest contained some of the most powerful and rare ingredients he had ever come into possession of. He kept them stored away primarily for disease outbreaks that would spread quickly if not handled immediately. Most of the ingredients were gifts from the Mages Guild and did not grow naturally in the swamp. One such ingredient was a dragon's claw, which was a claw longer than his arm. He collected a handful of ingredients he had used in the past and started mixing them with other plants and ingredients that had similar properties. However, potions made with these rare kinds of ingredients took ages to brew and he didn't know the full effects of these ingredients. He would have to be extremely careful with how he handled these new potions.
With one final desperate attempt, Floris used the newly brewed potions on one of his last remaining rats. He was down to his last male and female but he was completely out of options now. He had the
unlucky rat drink some of the water and waited for it to begin dying. Once the rat started showing the symptoms, he gave it one of the new potion and waited for it to take effect. He never considered himself much of a religious person outside of believing in a higher power, but he was getting to the point that praying seemed like the only thing left to do. What he knew was failing and he didn't have the time or resources to learn anything else about what he found. This was his last hope, or everything he knew and cared about would be lost forever. As he stared out the window, he watched the villagers go about their daily lives. Every single one of them were in their twilight years; most would be lucky to last another decade at most. None of them had the strength or energy to pack up and move through the swamp in hopes of finding a place to resettle and some wouldn't even make it without falling victim to the swamps' many dangers. Was this really how it would end? Would he and Alvis be forced to leave the village behind and start a new life? He hoped not, but it was starting to look inevitable at this point.
While he was looking away, the rat had perished, but this time it was even worse. The potion he brewed only seemed to increase the symptoms the rat took and now its entire body was being devoured right down to the bone. Floris didn't even react at what had happened and only stared at what was left of the rat. He slowly hung his head in shame and uttered a simple, but emotional statement under his breath,
"I've failed."