She sighed, this was likely going to end in tragedy... maybe hilarity if she was lucky. She'd never seen something like him get torn apart or otherwise die horribly. Maybe he would make a funny noise when he died...
"As you wish. Equip yourself well, I do not wish you to die to whatever lurks down there."
He was already gathering his things, his flamethrower and a few other odds and ends, stuffing his pack full. After a few moments, he nodded, walking up to Cel.
Ready when you are.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Cel nodded, stepping outside. This was not a good idea to bring him along, but she would have to oblige him, as he was the only one that could perform this kind of work for her.
Chaz walked in, utterly exhausted. Adventures. Far too many adventures.
He sank into his chair, rubbing his forehead. Why had he moved here again? Why not Highever or somewhere more established? Because Anri told him that this town was smaller. He'd get in on the ground floor. God, he missed her. He sighed and got up, getting his writing pad and pen.
My dear Anri,
It's getting cold here, something I'm not as accustomed to. The Overwood stays warm well into the winter, and I miss it, as much as I miss you and Nikole.
I'm getting to know the people here. The de facto leader of the town is Grayell. You'd like him, I think, as well as the guard captain. Everyone seems to be very accepting and interesting, but far, far too adventurous. It seems like every five minutes I get dragged into some world-ending fight. Sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me. You know that better than anyone.
I'm surrounded by these strong, capable people and sometimes it bothers me. I'm small and not very intimidating. I can't lift a sword or use any magic. I just build things. I'm....very weak.
I'm complaining now, and I don't want to darken your day when you read this. Aside from my own uncertainty, I'm doing fine. I'm sending some money back to you, as well as a surprise for Nikole.
At this he looked to the desk, where a small doll sat. It had once been a homemade rag doll, but he'd restuffed it and stitched cat ears to it. Making tiny goggles and a scarf for it had been hard, but it was worth it. He continued writing.
I hope to hear back from you soon. Kiss the baby for me.
Love, Chaz
He sighed, putting the letter in an envelope and packing it and the doll into a small package, giving the doll a quick hug before wrapping it in paper and string. Tomorrow he would send it, but for tonight he needed sleep.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
He remembered walking down the stairs, sleepily, wiping his eyes. He'd been to the healer that day, and he didn't like it. His mother had given him a strange look when they had headed back.
As he made it down the stairs, he heard voices. His mother and father, talking. He poked open the door, listening to them talk. He saw the hulking shadow of his father, sitting in a chair near the fire, beside it the small shape of his mother. His father's rough accent crawled across the floor, quiet but harsh.
And there is nothing ve can do? To lower price?
His mother sighed, shaking her head. He could see her ears flatten against her head.
No. I talked to him for an hour...I even begged. There's nothing. He won't budge. He doesn't know...what he's doing. His father growled.
Ve cannot afford. Ve could sell house and not afford to heal Charles.
Chaz took in a small breath. They were talking about him. There was a long silence.
Is...maybe for the best. His mother turned to her husband slowly, searching him.
What...what are you saying, Klaus? Klaus was silent for a moment.
You know vhat I am saying. He is...runtling kitten. I take him hunting, he cannot keep up. I ask him to chop vood and he cannot lift axe. He is very small. Is not just him being late bloomer anymore, Sascha. You know this. Sascha stared at him a moment.
Are...you saying we should let him die? He's...he's our son, Klaus. How can you say that? Klaus' head snapped up, looking back at her.
Vhat happens if ve heal him, somehow? He cannot hunt. He cannot vork. He is...burden to us. Sascha stood, quivering slightly.
You....you can't be serious! You can't look me in the eyes and say you think that!
Klaus stood as well, at least two heads taller than Sascha, holding her shoulders gently.
Sascha...vhat happens vhen you are old? Vhen my back is veak and my arms fail me? Who vill bring home food? Vill ve be beggars? Ve vill also be caring for small runtling kitten Charles. Sascha...it is hard to say, but...it is vhat ve must do. The Overvood is hard. Ve both knew that vhen ve married. And...ve vill have to make hard choices.
No! Not that hard! Not like that! Sascha looked up at him, shaking, almost pleading.
We...we can't! You're asking me to watch him die! I...can't do that.
You may have to, Sascha. It is only choice ve have.
No....no. I'll figure out some way. We have to.
Vhat vay, Sascha? He looked stern, letting go of her and gesturing around.
Vhat vay is there? It vill take miracle! Ve cannot count on miracles. You know that. Ve...ve have to, Sascha. She was quiet a moment, shaking a little.
Get...get out.
...vhat?
Get out of this house! I can't talk to you right now.
Sascha, please, I--
You don't talk to me. Just go. Suddenly Chaz, leaning forward as he listened, fell, slamming the door open and falling to the floor. They both looked at him in horror. Klaus looked from his son to Sascha...then left. Sascha sniffled, quivering, and fell back into the chair. Chaz could hear her sobbing, softly. His chest ached. His arms shook.
Then he woke up. He jolted awake, the hammock tipping over and throwing him onto the floor again. He got up slowly, holding onto the wall, steadying his breathing, trying to forget.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
A week later the reply came. Chaz opened the envelope reverentially and read the letter slowly, sinking into his chair.
My Charles,
Everything is just the same as it was years ago in the deep Overwood. Almost exactly the same, in fact. Drow are not ones to change very often, part of the reason I left them. They're all powerful mages, or warriors, or priests, and Charles....it is very very boring. Most of them are haughty and proud of their power. They use it without thinking, so accustomed to applying to every problem they take it for granted.
That's why you don't need to feel out of place. People with too much power and too much strength use it too often and don't know how lucky they are to have it. You're a strong, kind man, Chaz. You may not be able to throw another man across a room or cut someone in two, but if you could you wouldn't be who you are. You're not weak, by any means, but remember this: the weak man knows the value of strength. You know this, and that's why you're who you are. And only one reason why I love you.
Besides. You're helping to raise our daughter. That's the bravest thing any man can do.
I hope to visit Wistvale soon. Now that I'm here the others don't look kindly on noblewomen leaving to visit old manservants in small frontier towns. I'll let you know before I can leave. Nikole misses you, and loves the doll. She carries it everywhere now. Looking forward to seeing you again, Chazzy.
Love, Anri
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Chaz shouldered open the door, pulling back his hood and taking a deep breath. He held in one hand a basket, covered in a cloth, and in his other a suitcase. He had to make the suitcase himself, to his consternation. Smaller and more handy than a crate, but more protective than simply a bag. He took in the familiar smoky smell of his forge, then put the suitcase down, chuckling.
We may have to fix that. That's probably not good for our health, all the smoke.
He cleared off his workbench, lighting a lantern in the dim blacksmith. IT was getting close to nightfall, and he was exhausted. He kept talking, nonchalantly, as if just trying to break the silence.
Be it ever so humble, though. Good to see the Overwood again, but...great to be away from it, too.
He faltered, remembering the glares of the Drow, the strange looks of the other Cathians. Visiting Anri had been distinctly uncomfortable, filled with secret meetings and a widening of the web of lies that masked their relationship from the Drow. And Chaz was not a very good liar. He rubbed his eyes, and then smiled, turning to the basket on his bench. He pulled off the blanket, and picked up his daughter, holding the snoozing baby to his chest.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Dominic [M:123:1420:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=382&page=1#14144][b]Let me tell you a story...[/b][0:No encore today][1:You have my attention]
When people think of assassins they think of black clad, cowled wraiths leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Sure enough there was a place for that sort of thing, but all one really needs to be called an assassin is a target, a client, a price and a plan. This one wore rather boring grey and brown travelling clothes, swathed in a woolen cloak against the cold. A Drow, a people who were not usually seen in these parts but not completely uncommon. Besides, there were few awake to see him.
He walked quietly, though not silent, hands in plain sight. Another thing that marks an assassin from a common thug is that they would never be suspected and would leave no trace. His client was the same as it always was, the Maestor of his order. The price for the contract was the same as ever, favour and praise and the knowledge of doing the right thing. The target was a humble blacksmith and his infant child. The plan was about to commence.
Love, like Hope, has too few letters for a word so powerful.
He'd made a small bed out of a feeding trough, lined with his blankets and clothes. It seemed a little...rundown from the blackwood and silver cribs with silk sheets she'd been sleeping in before, but it would work until he could make something better. He was exhausted, yes, but he didn't want to go to sleep. He rested his head on his hand, his arm on the rim of the trough as he rocked it gently, humming the little song that Dominic had taught him. His eyes grew heavy, but he watched his daughter sleep soundly, contentedly, shutting out the outside.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Dominic [M:123:1420:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=382&page=1#14144][b]Let me tell you a story...[/b][0:No encore today][1:You have my attention]
His name wasn't important. The smith or the man about to kill him. All the assassin knew was that the...thing...in the crib was an unclean, abhorrent abomination. The old gods he served had rarely, if ever, seen fit to grant seed to such a union. Even rarer had they seen fit to see the blasphemous womb put beyond their grasp. But the child, and the cur that sired her...perhaps there was still hope of providence.
The plan was as it always had been for such things. Destroy the seed before the sire, anoint the sire with the blood of the seed and cleanse them both in fire. Fires were not uncommon, and did such an excellent job of dispelling the auras that could be used to divine the truths of deaths. Not only that but burned flesh, if any survived the blaze, hid wounds so well. He pulled the bottle from a pouch at his waist. Now it was time for silence.
Chaz never heard him approach, nor sensed him until the rag was pressed to nose and mouth and the sweet taint of elixir filled his lungs, robbing him of his consciousness. He awoke mere moments later, the lamps snuffed, his child still sleeping, his hands bound behind him. The assasin sat before him, crosslegged, a small crystal between them, a thin silver blade across his lap.
"Awaken, cur, and answer for your sins." came his calm, even, almost melodious voice. It was modulated a little strangely and, to a student of engineering both mundane and arcane such as Chaz, it became apparent the crystal held some kind of sonic ward. He could scream for all his worth and even if an army were outside his door, none would hear.
Love, like Hope, has too few letters for a word so powerful.
As soon as he came to he panicked. It was sort of a normal reaction to stress, and this time was no exception. His lungs ached and burned for air, his heart ticking audibly faster as they worked overtime. Normally a little uncoordinated and clumsy, it took him a bit to get into a sitting position, and a little more time to see that Nikole was safe, at least for now. Such was his analytic brain that he'd already worked through the make, purpose, construction, and deconstruction of the crystal in front of him before he even remotely processed the man across from him, or the blade in his lap. He slid backwards along the ground, already fearing the worst. He stopped against the trough, glancing over at Nikole.
Wh-what....what is this? Who are you?
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.
Dominic [M:123:1420:][D3v:http://rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=cs&thread=382&page=1#14144][b]Let me tell you a story...[/b][0:No encore today][1:You have my attention]
The Drow eyed him flatly, eyes utterly compassionless. Devoid of any emotion really. He sat still, back straight, evenly breathing and hadn't reached for the blade. When he spoke it was in that same infuriatingly level tone.
"Who I am is of no consequence to you. What you are, what you both are, is far more germaine." He closed his eyes, inhaling through his nose and softly out through his mouth before continuing. "You are an affront to the moral fibre of a proud society and the child is an even more lamentable affront to nature itself, a terrible accident that must be set right." He paused. There was no rush. One could not rush the work of the righteous. It was part of his payment to enjoy the lamentations of those who were so filthy.
Love, like Hope, has too few letters for a word so powerful.
No no no....no. His chest heaved, searching the man for any sign of leniency, and finding none. He'd laid awake nights thinking about this day, and now there was a sudden wash of fear and panic that the day they caught up with him was the day he had his daughter. He had been absent from her for a while, and that made him wary, but in that moment he felt more scared than he ever had in his life. His mind raced as he tried to recall what Anri had told him to say if anything ever happened. He closed his eyes and nearly hissed the words, his Cathian accent thicker in his haste.
A l' zasimartek d'lil Overwood Usstan parlay wun l' kaas d' Lolth, a l' covenant d' ussta lodias ulu dossta. Usstan request natha vost d' ssissilluk lu' natha case wun l' Obok Court d' Overwood.
A good scientist is a person with original ideas. A good engineer is a person who makes a design that works with as few original ideas as possible.