ELBION
PORT DISTRICT
Another day, another warehouse. This one had been used for the storage and production of pickled herring. Barrels were stacked in pallets of four, creating incidental corridors and hallways. Then elsewhere there were vats and troughs, shelves and crates. All the tools and cookery needed for the large-scale production of pickled herring. Everything smelled of fish and vinegar.
Except Gaheris, obviously.
The Red Guild of Cortos had set up here for the night, to hawk their suspicious wares to suspicious sorcerers from all walks of life. Alchemical ingredients and literature banned by the college, mostly, but occasionally someone came in search of a live specimen of one kind or another. If the stalwart guardsmen of the city watch were aware, they had already been paid off.
They were squirreled away in a corner of the building, among some shelves, where a rickety table had been set up for Gaheris to sit at. It had been a long night - least of all because the armsmen wouldn't stop fussing about how to get the smell out of their clothes.
"How much longer have we got to go on with this?" One of them complained, giving a nearby bucket a light kick. It clattered onto its side.
Gaheris did not look up from the glass orb he was polishing. It was quite large, but it fit snugly into the palm of his hand. "Until morning."
"But that's so far off," another one complained. "I doubt anyone else is coming."
"We've still got a special order in back," said Gaheris, pausing to inspect the orb for any blemishes. "Nobody goes until it's gone."
The lone special order that remained was a suspicious package, wrapped in parchment, tied with string. About the size of a book. It had a big, terrible "X" painted on it in black. Common shorthand for "it would be quite preferable if this were not opened, thank you" in the ranks of the Red Guild.
Seeing that complaining to their boss would do them no good, the armsmen resorted to expressing their discontentment by muttering furtively among themselves. And Gaheris did his best to ignore it.
PORT DISTRICT
Another day, another warehouse. This one had been used for the storage and production of pickled herring. Barrels were stacked in pallets of four, creating incidental corridors and hallways. Then elsewhere there were vats and troughs, shelves and crates. All the tools and cookery needed for the large-scale production of pickled herring. Everything smelled of fish and vinegar.
Except Gaheris, obviously.
The Red Guild of Cortos had set up here for the night, to hawk their suspicious wares to suspicious sorcerers from all walks of life. Alchemical ingredients and literature banned by the college, mostly, but occasionally someone came in search of a live specimen of one kind or another. If the stalwart guardsmen of the city watch were aware, they had already been paid off.
They were squirreled away in a corner of the building, among some shelves, where a rickety table had been set up for Gaheris to sit at. It had been a long night - least of all because the armsmen wouldn't stop fussing about how to get the smell out of their clothes.
"How much longer have we got to go on with this?" One of them complained, giving a nearby bucket a light kick. It clattered onto its side.
Gaheris did not look up from the glass orb he was polishing. It was quite large, but it fit snugly into the palm of his hand. "Until morning."
"But that's so far off," another one complained. "I doubt anyone else is coming."
"We've still got a special order in back," said Gaheris, pausing to inspect the orb for any blemishes. "Nobody goes until it's gone."
The lone special order that remained was a suspicious package, wrapped in parchment, tied with string. About the size of a book. It had a big, terrible "X" painted on it in black. Common shorthand for "it would be quite preferable if this were not opened, thank you" in the ranks of the Red Guild.
Seeing that complaining to their boss would do them no good, the armsmen resorted to expressing their discontentment by muttering furtively among themselves. And Gaheris did his best to ignore it.
