    The alchemical 
arts are notable for 
their deceptive 
simplicity. 'Tis true 
that to our best 
knowledge currently, 
there are but eight 
valid potions that can 
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be made (though I 
emphasize that new 
discoveries may 
always await). 
However, the delicate 
balance of confecting 
the potions is 
difficult indeed, and 
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requires great skill.
    To give thee an 
example of the 
simpler potions that 
can be created by 
those well-versed in 
the subtleties of 
alchemy:
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    Black pearl, that 
rare substance that is 
oft found lying 
unannounced upon the 
surface of the 
ground, when 
properly crushed 
with mortar and 
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pestle, can yield a 
fine powder. Said 
powder in the proper 
proportions when 
mixed via the 
alchemical arts can 
yield a wonderfully 
refreshing drink.
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    The revolting blood 
moss so gingerly 
scraped off of 
windowsills by 
fastidious housewives 
is but a tiny cousin to 
the wilder version, 
which when properly 
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prepared yields a 
magical liquid that 
for a time can make 
the imbiber a more 
agile and dextrous 
individual.
    However, beware 
of the deadly 
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nightshade, for it 
yields a deceptively 
sweet-tasting poison 
that can prove highly 
fatal to the drinker, 
and in fact is also 
used by assassins to 
coat their blades. 
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Fortunately, this 
latter art of 
poisoning is little 
known!
    There is much to 
reward the student 
of alchemy, indeed. 
The rumours of 
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longtime alchemists 
losing their hair and 
acquiring an 
unhealthy pallor, not 
to mention unsightly 
blotches upon their 
once-fair skin, are 
unhappily, true. Yet 
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the joys of the mind 
make up for the 
complete loss of 
interest that others 
may have in thee as 
an object of 
courtship, and I have 
never regretted that 
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choice. Honestly, 
truly. Not once.
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