[outdated] Caustic Arrow Solo Map MFer (20/300+)

This is another Noxic tale - that is, a fanciful story loosely based on my experiences with Noxic, my Scion, CA toon - this time with several poems. I hope you like this tale. It's one of my favorites in the series.
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Assassin's Brew - Anon

Poison. Poison.
Green the hue.
Foul the smell.
And deadly too.

Sicken foe if batch be quick.
But steal life if batch be thick.

Gods above, I beseach you.
Thrice curse this.
Assassin's Brew.
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Vorici was most displeased.

In fact, Vorici was never so upset in all his life.

Some upstart Scion had dared interfere with his business - counterfeiting in Wraeclast - counterfeiting without his permission.

The upstart must be put down. Otherwise, the very authority of the Master Assassin was in question.

And this simply could not be.
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"Over here, exiles!"

The band of roughians stopped and turned towards the lone figure.

"Over here! I've a mission for you."

Intrigued, the band moved closer.

"An exile has displeased me. Greatly so. Thus, I command you to dispose of the malcontent."

The band, on seeing who the shadowy figure was - the Grand Assassin Vorici - was trapped. Little did they desire to pursue the death of a fellow exile - but what choice? Refusal would mean certain death.

And so...

"Great master," began the leader of the band, "This exile of whom you speak. Is most powerful. How do you expect such a humble assembly to cope with one such?"

Vorici smiled at this reply. "Green," said Vorici. "Green."
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And thus it came to be that the reluctant band came into possession of Vorici's most potent weapon - poison, poison most green, poison most vile, poison lethal to all mortal beings.
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Green - Anon

Green is Poison.
Green is Death,
Malevolent Green,
Seeks out your Breath.

Green is Evil.
Green is Mean.

But most of all, Green does Keen.
For the Life, the Life, the Life of You.

And, Green especially,
Is Death's Brew.
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The roughians, five all told, set out towards the exile's home; little pleasure did they take in their task - yet what choice? Kill the upstart exile or face Vorici's wrath.
At least they had Vorici's brew in their arsenal. With the green substance, the exile should quickly succumb.
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And so the roughians surrounded the exile's abode... and waited patiently for her return. Shortly they were rewarded. For Noxic, unaware, approached her home.
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Earlier that day, Noxic, uncharacteristically, sought a prophecy; what did her future hold? What great deeds lie before her? How could she shape the future of Wraeclast?
In short... Noxic was interested in her future. And for this reason... Noxic sought the insight of a Seer.
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"Oh great Seer, began Noxic."

"Spare me, said the Seer," I'm well ware of your lead stones.

"Oh!," said Noxic. "I see."

"But," continued Noxic, "I was mistaken... I did not... believe in your ability. Your ability to foretell - your ability to see into the future. And for that reason, I wished to trick you with my lead stones."
"I no longer wish to do so. I offer now, two true silver coins. Will you not foretell my future?"

The seer looked dubiously at Noxic. And yet, the proferred coins pressed into her hands by the apologizing Noxic, did seem true... and so... the Seer began...

"I cannot decline the plea of the faithful, and you, at last, do seem true. So I accept your silver and now foretell. Attend my child and behold your future."

With that the Seer went into a long trance - and began to tremble - after which, the seer said this.... "Oh my child... my child... I foresee dark times ahead of you. A band of roughians will beset you...
and will employ green most vile... beyond this I am unsure. You may die of this encounter.... yes... it is likely so."

"Green, you say?" said Noxic.
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Noxic was troubled by the Seer's vision. Very much so.

And thus, began to seek out a certain herb. A silverish herb. Noxic began to chew rapidly on the stems of a silver plant she had earlier plucked from the ground. Over and over she chewed on the stems; until the point of choking on the bitter taste.
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The roughians lay in wait just outside Noxic's abode. Shortly they would fulfill their pledge.

And just so.... a short while later, Noxic appeared, walking tiredly towards her home.

Out sprang the roughians. It was over quickly. Out-numbered, Noxic was unable to fend off all the attackers. And, quickly blood was drawn... her blood. A knife flashed across her breast drawing blood - and yet the wound wwas not deep.
But, the knife was coated with something... something... verdant... no, not verdant, not verdant at all.... something filled with the promise of death... something green.

Immediately, a great lethargy set in. Noxic became sluggish - unable to move rapidly. And then fell to the ground, gasping for air. A victim of the Green.

"Forgive me, Exile," said the leader of the roughians - "I had no choice."

And thus it was that Noxic met her end.
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Rogue's Refrain - Anon

Green is Poison.
Green is Death.
But Green be Countered by Winter's Breath.
======================
The roughians departed.

And yet... life continued to stir.

Noxic yet breaths - a wintry breath.