BlackAndBlueEyes
03-27-14, 09:34 PM
((Solo.))
I slipped the canvas satchel over my shoulder and put my black boots on. "Nell, honey, did I give you your itinerary for the day?"
The chubby blonde girl turned from her work table, her hands stained with grease from tinkering with brass knick-knacks all morning. "Yes, Maddy. I'm making some minor adjustments to the, uh, launching system--er, ejection system, or whatever you want to call it. I think it could be tightened up just a bit to deliver more of a punch."
I nodded in approval. The girl was learning fast.
"After that, I'll stop by Morendale's and The Bitterwort End and pick up the list of ingredients you asked me to, and start hacking away at the potions list."
"Excellent," I said as I straightened my tie in front of a nearby mirror, inspecting the rest of my pitch-black formal ensemble as well. Ever since my body had started changing into... whatever it was turning into, I've noticed that my vest and pants had started getting a little too tight. It was slightly upsetting; but I suppose that I had to make room somewhere for all those extra venom sacs that, thanks to a slight miscalculation in one experiment, were growing inside me.
My assistant turned back to the pile of parts in front of her on the cluttered work table, picking up a wrench and resuming her work. "Will you be returning for lunch?"
I shook my head. "I think I'll be gone for most of the day. I'll just stop off at a tavern for a bite to eat or something. Don't wait up for me for dinner, either." She didn't respond, knowing well enough by now that my own plans for any given day are strictly on a need-to-know basis, especially now that I've thrown my lot in with the Order of the Crimson Hand. It was for the best that she didn't ask, and she understood it. What a sweetheart. "Leave a candle lit for when I get back, please? Oh--and I'm not expecting any visitors today. Don't answer the door, under any circumstances."
"Of course."
And with that, I gave the iron doorknob a twist and pushed open the door. The morning Salvar sun greeted me as I stepped onto the stairs leading down from our second floor apartment/laboratory. The door clicked shut behind me, and I made my way down onto the streets of Tirel.
The port town was rather busy this morning. Sailors from around the world were wandering around, checking items they needed before they set sail off their lists and they walked from merchant to merchant. Two kids, presumably siblings, nearly ran into me as they continued playing their silly games. I swung my satchel out in front of me, peeling back the flap that kept everything covered as I took a quick inventory. Inside sat a plain leatherbound notebook, several pencils, various medical tools, some stray strips of cloth, and a couple of unmarked glass vials that had a curious-looking dark purple goop sealed inside. Yep, everything was in order.
I spent an hour walking the dirty, noisy streets of the Salvar port city, making several stops along the way. I took detours through side streets and alleyways, always checking to see that nobody had followed me. The last thing I needed right now was to have my cover blown. I had so many things to do, so much to accomplish, and so little time...
I came to a stop outside an iron door that led into an old wooden building buried deep within the heart of downtown Tirel. I dug around in my satchel for a pristine cloth surgical mask. I slipped it around my face, adjusting the straps so they weren't digging into my ears as much. Producing a key from my pocket and slipping it into the lock of the door, I gave it a quick turn and heard a satisfying click. I checked all throughout the alley--it was just me, myself, and I. Good. I threw a bit of my weight into the door, pushing the heavy iron slab open.
A stream of light followed me in, and was quickly snuffed as the door closed behind me. Even in the darkness of the building, I was able to find the automatic oil lamp I set on a table to the right of the door. I picked it up, feeling around for the small switch at the base of the lamp. Ah--there it is. With a soft snapping noise there was a spark, and then the flame caught on the wick. Within seconds, a soft orange glow began to fill the room.
Twenty feet away, in another room, there were the muffled sounds of people struggling as they laid bound and immobile on cots.
A malicious smile crossed my lips, undetectable behind the surgical mask. "Hey, kids!"
I slipped the canvas satchel over my shoulder and put my black boots on. "Nell, honey, did I give you your itinerary for the day?"
The chubby blonde girl turned from her work table, her hands stained with grease from tinkering with brass knick-knacks all morning. "Yes, Maddy. I'm making some minor adjustments to the, uh, launching system--er, ejection system, or whatever you want to call it. I think it could be tightened up just a bit to deliver more of a punch."
I nodded in approval. The girl was learning fast.
"After that, I'll stop by Morendale's and The Bitterwort End and pick up the list of ingredients you asked me to, and start hacking away at the potions list."
"Excellent," I said as I straightened my tie in front of a nearby mirror, inspecting the rest of my pitch-black formal ensemble as well. Ever since my body had started changing into... whatever it was turning into, I've noticed that my vest and pants had started getting a little too tight. It was slightly upsetting; but I suppose that I had to make room somewhere for all those extra venom sacs that, thanks to a slight miscalculation in one experiment, were growing inside me.
My assistant turned back to the pile of parts in front of her on the cluttered work table, picking up a wrench and resuming her work. "Will you be returning for lunch?"
I shook my head. "I think I'll be gone for most of the day. I'll just stop off at a tavern for a bite to eat or something. Don't wait up for me for dinner, either." She didn't respond, knowing well enough by now that my own plans for any given day are strictly on a need-to-know basis, especially now that I've thrown my lot in with the Order of the Crimson Hand. It was for the best that she didn't ask, and she understood it. What a sweetheart. "Leave a candle lit for when I get back, please? Oh--and I'm not expecting any visitors today. Don't answer the door, under any circumstances."
"Of course."
And with that, I gave the iron doorknob a twist and pushed open the door. The morning Salvar sun greeted me as I stepped onto the stairs leading down from our second floor apartment/laboratory. The door clicked shut behind me, and I made my way down onto the streets of Tirel.
The port town was rather busy this morning. Sailors from around the world were wandering around, checking items they needed before they set sail off their lists and they walked from merchant to merchant. Two kids, presumably siblings, nearly ran into me as they continued playing their silly games. I swung my satchel out in front of me, peeling back the flap that kept everything covered as I took a quick inventory. Inside sat a plain leatherbound notebook, several pencils, various medical tools, some stray strips of cloth, and a couple of unmarked glass vials that had a curious-looking dark purple goop sealed inside. Yep, everything was in order.
I spent an hour walking the dirty, noisy streets of the Salvar port city, making several stops along the way. I took detours through side streets and alleyways, always checking to see that nobody had followed me. The last thing I needed right now was to have my cover blown. I had so many things to do, so much to accomplish, and so little time...
I came to a stop outside an iron door that led into an old wooden building buried deep within the heart of downtown Tirel. I dug around in my satchel for a pristine cloth surgical mask. I slipped it around my face, adjusting the straps so they weren't digging into my ears as much. Producing a key from my pocket and slipping it into the lock of the door, I gave it a quick turn and heard a satisfying click. I checked all throughout the alley--it was just me, myself, and I. Good. I threw a bit of my weight into the door, pushing the heavy iron slab open.
A stream of light followed me in, and was quickly snuffed as the door closed behind me. Even in the darkness of the building, I was able to find the automatic oil lamp I set on a table to the right of the door. I picked it up, feeling around for the small switch at the base of the lamp. Ah--there it is. With a soft snapping noise there was a spark, and then the flame caught on the wick. Within seconds, a soft orange glow began to fill the room.
Twenty feet away, in another room, there were the muffled sounds of people struggling as they laid bound and immobile on cots.
A malicious smile crossed my lips, undetectable behind the surgical mask. "Hey, kids!"