My mother told me this story once, sir. Golly, I wonder if it's true!

There once was a ranger-lady named Artella who was married to a merchant named Mathius. Artella was a brave adventurer, who spent most of her time in the sewers of Moorgate, battling nasty creatures and vile sewer thugs. My, but she was brave. And her battles in the sewers were most productive, providing Mathius with the funds to become one of the finest merchants in Moorgate. She was so proud of him! He became one of the most well-known and respected citizens of our city.

Often during her adventures in the sewers, Artella noticed that a strange glowing moss lined several areas of wall and floor. This seemed a little peculiar to her, as all the traffic of beasties and sewer rogues seemed to keep most of the floor and walls cleared of growths. She knew a teensy smidge about herbalism, and so she always wondered how the moss managed to avoid getting trampled and worn away.

One day she arrived home from her adventures, covered in sweat and grime and blood. She walked into her home expecting to find her husband catching up on his scroll-work, but gee - that's not what she found! There was Mathius and their maid right in the front room, doing something my mother didn't want to tell me about. Artella was very upset! She ran right back to the sewers and roamed the dark and musty passageways, not even stopping to kill the critters she passed.

Eventually she stopped, and just leaned up against a damp wall, sobbing her eyes out. Gosh, she must have been sad! Through her tears she happened to look down and see that silly old moss growing on a sharp outcropping of stone. Right there at her feet was a giant toad, licking and licking at the moss. Unnnnhhh, that's yicky! she thought. Quick as lightning she drew her bow and shot the giant toad dead. My but she was fierce! As she stood there, all sad and lonely and betrayed, her heart pounding the danger she had just escaped, she got to thinking. Everyone knows how poisonous giant toads are, but nobody knows why. As she stood there thinking, she began to grow bitter and angry. How dare Mathius do that to her? She would show him! Quickly she bent down and collected a bunch of the moss.

Heading for home, she constructed a plan. My, but it was a dirty plan. Why do people be so mean? She walked into her home, greeted Mathius with a big hug, and told him she forgave him. She told him she had a surprise for him, and went to prepare his favorite meal. This time, though, she added an extra touch to the meal - she spread the moss all over the broiled boar meat! As Mathius cut the meat with his sharp knife, she watched him intently. As soon as the first bite went into his mouth, his eyes widened in surprise. Aha! she thought, it worked!

But no, instead Mathius smiled and said "This is the best broiled boar you've ever made, my dear!" Artella flew into a fit of rage. She rushed over to claw her husband's eyes out. Totally surprised, her husband put up his hands to defend himself, not even thinking about the knife in his hand. As she pounced upon him, the knife slid along her arm and gave her a tiny cut. The slimy moss coating the blade oozed into the cut, and Artella fell into his arms, dead!

Mathius never did figure out how Artella died. But as he was awaiting execution for her murder, he told what he knew of the story to several of the other inmates in the jail. One of them was a crafty old thief named Greaseball who had spent much time in the sewers, as do many of the rogues of Moorgate. Greaseball recognized the description of the moss and managed to make the connection between it and Artella's sudden death. Golly, wasn't he smart? A few days after Mathius was executed, Greaseball managed to escape from prison. He headed straight for his favorite spots, and collected some of the moss. Spreading the slimy stuff all over his blade, he went in search of a rich merchant to test it on.

Greaseball told his friends in the guild how successful his test was, and they all began to use the moss. Over the years they've refined their use of it, and the more experienced members of the guild are taught better methods of extracting the poison from the moss to make it more potent. And that's how the thieves of Moorgate got their poison! Isn't my mother a wonderful story-teller?

::hops about madly:: ::hops about madly:: ::begins to slide around::

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