The Apothecary is Now Closed.
My name is Severus Snape. I am a warden aboard this ship, assigned to Mozenrath. I have been here since September of last year, with one absence of three months. I arrived as an inmate, and was such for five months. My duties aboard this ship include providing potions for the infirmary and for my fellow wardens.
Last month, per the request of one such fellow warden, I provided a love potion which induces a state of euphoria and obsession, which I ensured would have no effect upon the baser urges of the recipient. I had no reason to distrust Aleera. She is, like myself, a graduated inmate. However, I was aware she intended to use it on someone, and thus also created an antidote to be given immediately if things got entirely out of hand.
I was unaware that she would use it on the entire ship.
Such is the full extent of my guilt in this matter. I hereby apologise for my actions and assure you that I will never make this mistake again.
Now, to say my piece:
I was surprised and outraged that the reaction from the population at large was so vehement. This sort of potion is not some insidious mind-altering poison; it lasts no longer than twenty-four hours with no lasting effects, and is viewed as nothing but a harmless prank in my world.
However, what I failed to take into account is that you are not from my world. You are not wizards or witches. You are the simple townsfolk, if you'll forgive the comparison. The visceral, unwarranted, violent reactions to this potion are a prime example of why my world is segregated from yours. I was in error to think that magic could be of some benefit the Barge without someday paying a price for it.
Aleera and I stand accused as rapists, or, to a lesser account, of dispensing a date-rape drug. Never in my time as an inmate - or before - was I accused of something so despicable or violent. I can't begin to imagine how to defend myself against that charge. As I have stated, the potion does not cause the recipient to act upon their baser urges. Anyone who committed such an act - I do not know that anyone has, but on the offchance - was already so inclined.
Despite my desire to defend my actions, if this is how my kind is to be viewed - that is, I am only to be trusted so long as I am of benefit to you, and then labeled as some devious, contemptable monster at the first hint of trouble - then I have no recourse. There are more of you than there are of me.
I have obviously broken some unwritten ethical law. Whether I was graduated too quickly or fall into that notorious category of recidivism is for my fellow wardens to decide. I leave my fate to you.
Meanwhile, I am drawing a line in the sand.
As of this moment, I withdraw all offers of magical aid to the non-magical residents of this ship. The infirmary will no doubt make due under the competent supervision of the medical staff, without the aid of the vast array of healing potions I provide each month. Those who have benefited from hangover remedies will have to muddle on with aspirin.
The apothecary is now closed.
Last month, per the request of one such fellow warden, I provided a love potion which induces a state of euphoria and obsession, which I ensured would have no effect upon the baser urges of the recipient. I had no reason to distrust Aleera. She is, like myself, a graduated inmate. However, I was aware she intended to use it on someone, and thus also created an antidote to be given immediately if things got entirely out of hand.
I was unaware that she would use it on the entire ship.
Such is the full extent of my guilt in this matter. I hereby apologise for my actions and assure you that I will never make this mistake again.
Now, to say my piece:
I was surprised and outraged that the reaction from the population at large was so vehement. This sort of potion is not some insidious mind-altering poison; it lasts no longer than twenty-four hours with no lasting effects, and is viewed as nothing but a harmless prank in my world.
However, what I failed to take into account is that you are not from my world. You are not wizards or witches. You are the simple townsfolk, if you'll forgive the comparison. The visceral, unwarranted, violent reactions to this potion are a prime example of why my world is segregated from yours. I was in error to think that magic could be of some benefit the Barge without someday paying a price for it.
Aleera and I stand accused as rapists, or, to a lesser account, of dispensing a date-rape drug. Never in my time as an inmate - or before - was I accused of something so despicable or violent. I can't begin to imagine how to defend myself against that charge. As I have stated, the potion does not cause the recipient to act upon their baser urges. Anyone who committed such an act - I do not know that anyone has, but on the offchance - was already so inclined.
Despite my desire to defend my actions, if this is how my kind is to be viewed - that is, I am only to be trusted so long as I am of benefit to you, and then labeled as some devious, contemptable monster at the first hint of trouble - then I have no recourse. There are more of you than there are of me.
I have obviously broken some unwritten ethical law. Whether I was graduated too quickly or fall into that notorious category of recidivism is for my fellow wardens to decide. I leave my fate to you.
Meanwhile, I am drawing a line in the sand.
As of this moment, I withdraw all offers of magical aid to the non-magical residents of this ship. The infirmary will no doubt make due under the competent supervision of the medical staff, without the aid of the vast array of healing potions I provide each month. Those who have benefited from hangover remedies will have to muddle on with aspirin.
The apothecary is now closed.