:After leaving the temporary reprieve of relaxation at the springs behind, he had gone in search again for the second man. Knew where he would be at that time of night, the man was a complete creature of habit. The fellow went into the offices he rented above a paga den, a place where he could make whatever deals he wished, and the Scribe waited down below. Lurking as usual, a shadow among many, and not terribly interesting to look at if one were to pass by.
When the lamplight died out in that room, he finally moved. On stairs, stealth was not his strong suit, but he made it up to the next level and found the man was half drunk anyway. A nice bottle of Arian wine, something the man probably didn't buy for himself, was still on a rickety table that was a makeshift desk. The Scribe pushed the man out of his chair, and the fellow came up, ready to fight. Not a boxer, but with the man already inebriated, the Scribe was able to knock him out with a punch to the jawline. The man's feet moved to one side, and he swayed, then fell down. The Scribe was too busy swearing to notice most of it, until the man hit the floor.
With the man out, an injection was given, just enough to keep him asleep while the Scribe worked. His hands and feet where tied with binding fiber, and those then strung up to a ring by the fireplace. The man's sandals were taken off, one tossed in the fire, and the other forced into his mouth. Clean scalpel this time, the Scribe never used the same equipment more than once, and both daggers-the one from Strophe and the one from Idgie. First, he cut off two fingers, putting them aside. Then, while perhaps not with the precision of a Physician, but he managed to use the scalpel easily enough, and removed the man's toenails by cutting away at the flesh surrounding them. The Scribe was performing the action on the second bound hand by the time the man woke up. Yes, a good degree of blood flowing from his appendages since hands and feet had more vessels and capillaries that many other parts of the anatomy. His eyes bulged, and he wanted to scream, but not much came out due to the shoe stuck between his teeth.
The Scribe, who by this time was annoyed more than anything else, reached up and dealt with the man's eyelids for him. Cutting each one away, and adding them to the growing pile near his own booted foot. Next, the lips. By this time, there was enough blood to be an issue, so the Scribe picked up the bottle of wine and poured it over the man and the pools gathered around him. There was choking sounds from behind the shoe, but the wine doused most of the blood that had not coagulated, and the Scribe handled the clotted matter with a few scraps of cloth laying around the squalid interior. His tools were similarly cleaned, and put away as they should be. Dosing the man again, and packaging the items he had accumulated, the body was pushed down the outside stairs.
Dragged to one of the hatches, which was opened, and the drugged man dropped into a pool of water. He'd drown, but he'd be asleep while it happened, and thus the worst was over. The scalpel was clean, but tossed in after him as well, the daggers remaining with the Scribe on his way back to the school.
Going back down into tunnels, his package with him, the Scribe left it on the table by the sleeping Slade. A short note:
Slade,
The fingers are for Strophe and Idgie. The nails, lips, and eyelids are yours to keep. The deed is done, and I hope you are faring better now. I will be sleeping no doubt until evening. See that the items are given to the Physician and her sister.
Lucian
Friday, November 7, 2008
Thursday, November 6, 2008
On the Trail
:The Scribe had received the answers he needed from Markus just previous to the kajirus's demise, made a final check on Slade's condition, then left the slave in charge of the latter. Out by nightfall, he had followed the trail out of the underground tunnels that ran beneath the city, through a garden belonging to one of the Ar's senior officials, and ended up at the man's offices near the Central Square.
Watching from cloistered shadows through the night, the man had finally emerged on the steps right before the break of morning. Losing track of time. It was what Scribes did. Whenever immersed in their craft, in whatever form it took, they were oblivious to its change. Aware only because he finally snapped to at the man's exit of the building, the Scribe noticed the slice of daylight awakening on the horizon, then followed the man back to his home. When he needed to, he could be silent. It was trying, and his muscles tended to protest, but it could be achieved.
Just before the man reached his home gate, the hand went around his mouth, cloth soaked in the capture scent a slaver would use to bring down his prey. Dragged some hundred yards or so, the Scribe pushed him down into the cavernous area beneath, then checked to make sure none were aware of his activities by giving a searching look around him. Dropping then down into the hole, the hatch sealed from inside so there was no way to access it from the outside world, the limp figure continued to be dredged along the cobblestone flooring of the subterranean world.
One of those door like hatches opened next, in Tunnel 646, and the body left strapped in a chair that was bolted to the floor. Small slices had been made in the man's flesh, and the scalpel then tossed down a drain into the abyss lower down. The Scribe made his way out, locking this chamber as well behind him. Climbing up one level, he entered a secondary chamber, and turned the aged crank there to allow a measure of water to enter the room where the unconscious man had been left.
Allowed to spill in long enough to reach the man's waist, the flow was then stopped, and a chute opened by the drawing of a lever. Bints, the carnivorous marsh eels he had come to know in Port Kar, flowed too down into the chamber. From there, the Scribe just watched. The man awakened, and the eels began their feast. Now, he tracked the time, waiting...:
Watching from cloistered shadows through the night, the man had finally emerged on the steps right before the break of morning. Losing track of time. It was what Scribes did. Whenever immersed in their craft, in whatever form it took, they were oblivious to its change. Aware only because he finally snapped to at the man's exit of the building, the Scribe noticed the slice of daylight awakening on the horizon, then followed the man back to his home. When he needed to, he could be silent. It was trying, and his muscles tended to protest, but it could be achieved.
Just before the man reached his home gate, the hand went around his mouth, cloth soaked in the capture scent a slaver would use to bring down his prey. Dragged some hundred yards or so, the Scribe pushed him down into the cavernous area beneath, then checked to make sure none were aware of his activities by giving a searching look around him. Dropping then down into the hole, the hatch sealed from inside so there was no way to access it from the outside world, the limp figure continued to be dredged along the cobblestone flooring of the subterranean world.
One of those door like hatches opened next, in Tunnel 646, and the body left strapped in a chair that was bolted to the floor. Small slices had been made in the man's flesh, and the scalpel then tossed down a drain into the abyss lower down. The Scribe made his way out, locking this chamber as well behind him. Climbing up one level, he entered a secondary chamber, and turned the aged crank there to allow a measure of water to enter the room where the unconscious man had been left.
Allowed to spill in long enough to reach the man's waist, the flow was then stopped, and a chute opened by the drawing of a lever. Bints, the carnivorous marsh eels he had come to know in Port Kar, flowed too down into the chamber. From there, the Scribe just watched. The man awakened, and the eels began their feast. Now, he tracked the time, waiting...:
Night Watchman
:Skulking Scribe had gone back down into the tunnel area through another route this time, and while it took longer than before, it did get him to Tunnel 753. Working on the locking mechanism like before, he entered the subterranean chamber, finding that Slade looked drawn and more pale than when he had left. Unconscious, but restless, the man turned a great deal in his sleep over the course of the night. Or, at least tried to do so. When it would come to almost laying on his right side, he'd turn back the other way with a few sounds that summed up he did need to be looked at.
The Scribe has his chronometer with him, and when it told him that the night was only half gone, he added wood to the fire then left the chamber. Through the tunnel system once more, he entered the chambers he used, washing his face at least before setting out to find an old acquaintance. When he emerged again, he was on the opposite side of the city, in an area not known for its medical professionals. And yet, he found the man he'd been looking for, and dragged him down into the tunnel as well with promises of a couple of Cosian's finest wine when the work was done.
The man had been a Physician once, but was relieved from duty when it was discovered he had been convincing poor free women their children died in childbirth, selling the children to richer couples for a nice profit. Not the most moral fellow then, but more than capable, and he saw to Slade while the Scribe went back up to his rooms to bathe and change clothes. He marked the progress of the work on the school as well, then met the male Physician outside the chamber once more. A few ehn later, the man had been dispatched in a way that meant the wine would never need to be paid, and the body disposed of efficiently.The Scribe did not want the man knowing about the existence of these chambers.
Meeting Strophe and Aella as they arrived at the school, he might have looked like he was tired, but he was used to nights with no sleep. No dead giveaway then on how long it had been, and he checked the injured man's face as guards took him off the palanquin to get him in the Scribe's own set of chambers. Getting the makeshift clinic set up, and Markus settled in, took a couple of ahns. The Scribe had already worked at getting more furnishings in the suite of rooms beneath the school, so it looked like any other house, save for the lack of windows. Fireplace blazes kept roaring, and the kitchen well stocked, he only went to move Slade into the area once all was prepared. The man was unsteady on his feet, but the progress was eventually made, and the man installed in a room next door to Markus's. He did not want them both in the same chamber, fever being as it was.
With both men taken care of, the Scribe went to his office in the underground channels, and waited for Strophe and Aella to finish the work at hand. Again, no windows from which to look out. But then, he had never been a day person anyway:
The Scribe has his chronometer with him, and when it told him that the night was only half gone, he added wood to the fire then left the chamber. Through the tunnel system once more, he entered the chambers he used, washing his face at least before setting out to find an old acquaintance. When he emerged again, he was on the opposite side of the city, in an area not known for its medical professionals. And yet, he found the man he'd been looking for, and dragged him down into the tunnel as well with promises of a couple of Cosian's finest wine when the work was done.
The man had been a Physician once, but was relieved from duty when it was discovered he had been convincing poor free women their children died in childbirth, selling the children to richer couples for a nice profit. Not the most moral fellow then, but more than capable, and he saw to Slade while the Scribe went back up to his rooms to bathe and change clothes. He marked the progress of the work on the school as well, then met the male Physician outside the chamber once more. A few ehn later, the man had been dispatched in a way that meant the wine would never need to be paid, and the body disposed of efficiently.The Scribe did not want the man knowing about the existence of these chambers.
Meeting Strophe and Aella as they arrived at the school, he might have looked like he was tired, but he was used to nights with no sleep. No dead giveaway then on how long it had been, and he checked the injured man's face as guards took him off the palanquin to get him in the Scribe's own set of chambers. Getting the makeshift clinic set up, and Markus settled in, took a couple of ahns. The Scribe had already worked at getting more furnishings in the suite of rooms beneath the school, so it looked like any other house, save for the lack of windows. Fireplace blazes kept roaring, and the kitchen well stocked, he only went to move Slade into the area once all was prepared. The man was unsteady on his feet, but the progress was eventually made, and the man installed in a room next door to Markus's. He did not want them both in the same chamber, fever being as it was.
With both men taken care of, the Scribe went to his office in the underground channels, and waited for Strophe and Aella to finish the work at hand. Again, no windows from which to look out. But then, he had never been a day person anyway:
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Question of Codes
Warriors and Physicians have codes of conduct, dictated to them from birth most likely. Even the individuals brought into the Assassins have codes, coin and contracts telling them who to kill, and who to leave untouched. The Scribes have no such codes. It is a fact that I have used to my advantage for my entire life.
I will be using it, even as I open the new school on Verminium Street. True, the education of future caste members is important to me, but the foundation of the school is connected to the tunnels built by the Arians to evade the Cosian invasion. Ironic then, that I should be using the tunnels meant to avoid my ancestors, in order to do business for myself, and the government of Ar.
The work is progressing smoothly, and once the foundation is fully bolstered, the Builder will begin working on the inside. I've requested enough sleeping chambers for forty students, a common dining hall, great rooms for each of the four "houses" I plan to implement, and of course a library. My own quarters will be under the school, so that I have ready access to the tunnels, and it will be more difficult for strangers to find me.
I will be using it, even as I open the new school on Verminium Street. True, the education of future caste members is important to me, but the foundation of the school is connected to the tunnels built by the Arians to evade the Cosian invasion. Ironic then, that I should be using the tunnels meant to avoid my ancestors, in order to do business for myself, and the government of Ar.
The work is progressing smoothly, and once the foundation is fully bolstered, the Builder will begin working on the inside. I've requested enough sleeping chambers for forty students, a common dining hall, great rooms for each of the four "houses" I plan to implement, and of course a library. My own quarters will be under the school, so that I have ready access to the tunnels, and it will be more difficult for strangers to find me.
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