The Touch of Zanzil

I barely made it back to Stormwind alive.

Mathias didn't waste time with pleasantries. He simply told me to go down into the basement and speak to "the Doctor." No further explanation.

The basement was cold, damp, and smelled of old blood and chemicals. An older man in a stained coat was waiting. He didn't introduce himself. He just pointed at a narrow table.

"Lie down," he said.

I hesitated.

"Lie down," he repeated, colder this time.

I did.

He tied a strap around my arm, stuck a needle in without much care, and drew blood while muttering to himself. Then he left the room. I lay there for what felt like an hour, staring at the ceiling, listening to muffled voices from the next room. When he finally returned, he looked almost disappointed.

"You've been poisoned," he said flatly. "Zanzil's Touch. Slow. Nasty."

He turned to a workbench and began mixing something in silence. Powders, liquids, a pinch of something dark. I watched from the table, too tired to ask questions.

When he was done, he brought me a cup of something dark and bitter.

"Drink."

I did.

The next few hours were some of the worst I've ever experienced. My body burned from the inside. Every muscle cramped and twisted like it was trying to tear itself apart. I vomited until there was nothing left, then kept going. My vision blurred, my hands shook uncontrollably, and at one point I genuinely thought I was going to die on that cold stone floor.

They didn't help me. They just watched.

When it finally passed, I was drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. The Doctor looked almost bored.

"Thistle Tea," he said. "It won't kill you. But now your body knows what real poison feels like." He tossed me a small pouch and a folded note. "The recipe. You'll need to brew it yourself going forward. A dose every few days until the traces are gone."

I sat there on the floor for a long time afterward, staring at the pouch in my hands.

I came to Westfall looking for coin and a way out. Now I'm sitting in the belly of Stormwind learning how to brew poison.

And the worst part?

A small, quiet part of me is starting to get used to it.