[h3][color=bedded][b][center] Thomas Richard Harrison [/center][/b][/color][/h3]
[center][indent][color=bedded][i]Location:[/i][/color] Tower Ground Floor
[color=bedded][i]Interacting with:[/i][/color] Keystone. [/indent][/center]

[i]Carapichea ipecacuanha[/i]. A most noxious flower, its drab white petals presented in a cluster, its broad leaves like spearheads, its roots gnarled knots. A clever herbalist would know the tincture that could be made from those woody anchors, a poison so foul that the body would purge itself of it upon ingestion. And though the draught was fast to act, the plant was slow to grow, thus alas was the extract of ipecac a rare and curious bit of alchemy. It was capable of reducing a fully grown man into horrid retching, turning his stomach into a sea of troubles and spilling forth the contents inside out, a terrible experience that none should have to live through...

Unless his name was Keystone. Drenched in whatever that foul man decidedly considered food, the unamused Thomas found himself silently screaming sworn vengeance at the disgusting deplorable. The sorcerer himself would have made it clear his newfound quest would be to see to it that somehow such insults were not to go unpunished. By the thistle crown, a muttered oath, a mental vow invoking Nemesis: [i]Nemo me impune lacessit.[/i] How dare that oaf direct upchuck at him? Had not these robes already been ruin by that mutt, and had the tower not become their death trap because of that stupid cook's gambit to throw a bear at the one being obviously keeping the rotting tower togeth-

A million thoughts of anger and revenge raced through Thomas' mind before the smell finally overpowered that neurons he could commit to plotting against Keystone. Such a deliberate act of targeting him when the fist-fighter could have easily just chosen the floor or that already stinking refuse of a arthropod corpse, did not escape the sorcerer and the sour note, as sour as the acidified stomach contents permeating through him in awful chunks of rank cheese, rotten eggs and whatever else came out from the forceful vomit comet blazing out to strike Thomas. Alas if only he could return the volley, heaving from the grossly gross experience that was seen as beneath a man of learning, but Thomas had already emptied his stomach earlier, and once again from the memory of Keystone's befouled nature. Thus the boy had nothing to give but empty purges as he clutched his stomach, soaked with goop and muttered his airy curses between his episodes of wanting to shove a potion down Keystone's throat or watch him choking on his own spewed stew.

If they survive this, he would no less hold a grudge against the pugilist as he wiped his face of the gunk in the short recovery.
And if they did not? Keystone was the first person Thomas would destroy once he ascended to the cosmos to rejoin his darker brothers.