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| Entering Gallowstown; Pre-Gallowstown Short Story [DNR] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Mon Oct 16, 2017 12:02 am (46 Views) | |
| Faustine Hirsch | Mon Oct 16, 2017 12:02 am Post #1 |
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It had been such a simple affair: enter the contested territory, obtain the ingredients she needed in exchange for some “special” candles and some hard-to-obtain medicines, and leave. But nothing was ever so simple, was it? Imythess was constantly on the brink of major war these days, and Balefire was one of the nationstates that seemed to have the most problems at the moment. The demilitarized zone between the Norwood and Balefire territories was bordered to the north by Cascadia’s land, and nobody went in there unless they had a reason to do so. Unfortunately, rumours of a new problem had arisen while the woman had been here: that of a plague called the Red Noose. Well, she was already here, so the potential for disaster wasn’t something she could readily avoid at this point. Nevertheless, she eyed the body lying upon the table both with contempt and with wary indecision. It would take longer than usual for her manservant to reach this place, and there was no knowing whether she would contract the plague as well or whether she was one of the rare few who might be immune. Then again, this man had taken extreme precautions to ensure that he could never become ill or be poisoned. He worked with poisons both mundane and magical, everything ranging from the mildest annoyances to the most lethal concoctions, and had needed to take every precaution that he could. To be honest, the woman wasn’t entirely certain how much of this man was still a man. His blood had been replaced with a toxic substance to which he was immune; his arms and legs had been replaced by powerful, golemized ironwood grafts that contained several devices and secrets fueled and protected by his own internal mana pool; he had grafted dragon’s flesh and scales onto his torso; and he had numerous tattoos hidden beneath those scales that protected him from things even the woman never heard of. Yet here stood Faustine Hirsch before a dead man, the only indication of his death’s cause being the red ring about his neck. Every precaution he had taken had been for naught. In the end, she decided to cover up his corpse with the sheet from his bed. The cave in which he had made his home was the only opening into a rock outcropping at the back of a small village that had barely contained a score of people, and the hilly wold that surrounded them was a good hiding place for it. The others had already been herded away from this place, but he had hiding places throughout his home. He had not had any intention of abandoning his home because of something he hadn’t believed would affect him - and yet, it had. She sighed deeply; if nothing else, this body’s death would not ultimately kill her. It was true that she had not yet found a suitable replacement, but she had barely had time to begin looking following her meeting upon the Plains with that physicker. Faustine had been using the name Camille d’Annequen here, for this was one of her many less-than-ethical ventures. She rang her manservant’s bell after covering up the man with whom she’d been trading, and then she began to gather up what she could. Sure enough, it was nearly an hour before the manservant had arrived with her carriage. She loaded up everything - that which she had brought with her and that which this man had stockpiled, even in hidden places - into the under-seat compartments in her carriage. The black-and-purple Balefiren Phantom was soon ready to go, and her manservant carted her off immediately. The man would be left to rot only because she had to get home safely. With any luck, she would be able to do so without being caught. She traveled for a couple of hours before coming to a small town with a sign out front. She read the sign’s crossed-out text with thin lips, and they only grew thinner as she read the hastily scrawled name “Gallowstown” at the bottom. She passed through the town quickly, but she soon found that she was unable to leave. Soldiers guided her to a nearby inn, but what she saw throughout the town told her that it might be a long stay. A quick and quiet discussion with her manservant ensued, and he went in to secure a room. Her carriage was pulled off to the side of the building and spare clothing and other necessities were taken up to the room. Stepping out into the early-morning fog, she looked around. These people were not residents; of that, she was certain. At least, they were not local residents. They had been brought her by the soldiers. One woman in particular was hurrying into a nearby building with what looked like a tray of various medicines. She looked desperate - really desperate. It was the kind of desperation only seen in a mother whose child was in mortal peril. Certain poisons, of course, could be broken apart in order to be converted into medicines instead. Some of the deadliest plants could be beneficial in certain tiny increments. Perhaps she could work this to her advantage. If she could provide the medicines that some of these people might need, then perhaps she could profit from it as well. For now, though, she simply headed into the inn and hoped that her room was at least clean, warm, and comfortable. |
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8:39 AM Jul 11

