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Rats in the Walls (Artisan Quest Pt 5)“-and, having spoken with your men, I have now come to believe that the individual we fought at Marama’s Fell may have been some manner of Alchemical, or at the very least, borne connections to them,” the Deathknight explained, his tone measured as he watched the Deathlord smooth a hand over the multiple-paged letter that rested on the table in front of him. “Beyond that assumption, I know little of their kind, and cannot make a more detailed assessment at this time. Perhaps a journey to the southern lands, where they are said to abide, could be in order.”
The Mask of Winters did not comment on this, instead rifling the corner of the pages with his thumb, waiting for the Artisan to continue.
The Deathknight cleared his throat, and his hands clenched together behind his back. He straightened up a bit more and looked at the Deathlord’s mask.
“My work goes well, considering the time I have had, and the adjustment period for my men. I regret that I
On the Back of the Beast (Artisan Quest Pt 4)The Artisan scarcely had the time to note that his anger was abruptly swinging back to surprise when, instead of a verbal reply, he was answered by a fist connecting with his left temple.
The sounds of breathing pulled him up through his grogginess, and he fought through the heavy grey haze although his aching head begged to stay asleep. A bag covered his head, keeping him in darkness, so he focused on his breath, the sound small and choked. His arms were held, stretched and chained above him, constricting his ribcage and tightening his throat in a way that was horribly familiar.
Fighting back his fear, he remained like this for several minutes, just listening and struggling to remain awake. He had no way of knowing how long it had been since the Green Lady's treachery, but he had a dim recollection of coming around now and then, only to be swiftly put back down by a fist or a boot from one of the three Deathknights.
He faintly recalled having been chained up at some point, and sin
The Boy From Nexus (Artisan Quest Pt 3)By now, the Deathknight's caste mark stood out like an old, dull bruise. He opened his eyes with a soft groan, lifting a shaking hand to massage his temple. He would never understand how He Who Walks Within Webs of Deception Sowing Fear and Reaping Despair had been able to withstand being so much more attuned to the voices of the Neverborn. If he himself attempted to focus on them, even as weak as his connection was, their insane ranting threatened to suck him in before he could even grasp a single word properly. If he dared to let his thoughts drift along with their mad narrative in hopes of catching something relevant, it was only a matter of time before his mind recoiled forcefully, snapping back like a bowstring to escape the sense of confused horror that assaulted it in response to the primordials' cries.
If it is disloyal of me to not pursue this avenue, then I am sorry - but I cannot continually risk my mental state in this way, he thought, irritated. The Artisan glanced
The Sun in the North (Artisan Quest Pt2)The demon had pretty much run the course of its usefulness, and with a journal filled with notations and painstakingly sketched diagrams, Artisan's interest was waning. The thing had been rendered down nearly to an empty shell of flesh and bone, organs lying around like pieces of a scattered puzzle, if a puzzle could be scattered in an exactingly neat manner. The Abyssal doctor could hardly see the point in reassembling the whole, resistant as it was to being raised to undeath, and its individual pieces were surprisingly uninspiring.
I could always clean and re-articulate the skeleton, he pondered as he stared down at it, it would be an interesting piece. Ah, but then again, I don't have the skull. It's no good without a skull.
I don't much feel like doing it anyway.
He sighed, and glanced down at his hands. Throughout his contemplation, he'd been leaning against the surgical table, gripping the edge of it. The tremors in his fingers had gotten better than they were the
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