Arena
You ask to see the mosses and herbs and apply them yourself and the old man considers it for a moment.
"Certainly," He tells you, reaching into a make-shift pouch made from a portion of his tunic. He digs around a little and pulls out a lump of lime green moss and three green leaves with jagged edges. "You need to chew them before applying," he tells you, placing them in your open palm.
You examine the herbs and recognize them as Zanzar, an herb used as a pain killer by the shamans in the last few tribes of the Amazon. The moss you are not quite as certain of. You haven't studied fungi so much as herbs, but you are fairly certain it is safe.
"Chew it to make a salve and stick it on," the old man tells you; "It will help. The herbs will numb the pain, and the moss will eat the infection. It will taste like shit, but it will allow you to survive. In the morning we will seal the wound."
You look at him and consider his motivation. Why should he help you? This is a kill or be killed contest, isn't it? You keep coming back to that moss; it doesn't look dangerous but you're not so sure about it. You don't really know much about mosses.
The old man smiles and laughs a little at your indecisiveness; "What have you got to lose?" He asks. "If I am poisoning you, you will die. If you don't treat it, you will die. At least with my salve there is a chance that you may live."
"Certainly," He tells you, reaching into a make-shift pouch made from a portion of his tunic. He digs around a little and pulls out a lump of lime green moss and three green leaves with jagged edges. "You need to chew them before applying," he tells you, placing them in your open palm.
You examine the herbs and recognize them as Zanzar, an herb used as a pain killer by the shamans in the last few tribes of the Amazon. The moss you are not quite as certain of. You haven't studied fungi so much as herbs, but you are fairly certain it is safe.
"Chew it to make a salve and stick it on," the old man tells you; "It will help. The herbs will numb the pain, and the moss will eat the infection. It will taste like shit, but it will allow you to survive. In the morning we will seal the wound."
You look at him and consider his motivation. Why should he help you? This is a kill or be killed contest, isn't it? You keep coming back to that moss; it doesn't look dangerous but you're not so sure about it. You don't really know much about mosses.
The old man smiles and laughs a little at your indecisiveness; "What have you got to lose?" He asks. "If I am poisoning you, you will die. If you don't treat it, you will die. At least with my salve there is a chance that you may live."