- Run upstairs [RISK: 0 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: 0 / SYNC: 0]
Upstairs.
The bedroom.
The Plans!
Soren bolted for the stairs with a swiftness and immediacy of acceleration generally reserved for projectile weaponry and, as such, did not really take the time to consider what he'd do when he'd surpassed them. It was enough that he could do something when he made it to the bedroom, and if anything he could do might mark a difference for the safety and secrecy of the hidden blueprints he kept there, then that was already reason enough for him to act. The tinkle of broken glass coming from another window reached his ears, but as it was distant, and therefore somebody else's window this time, he ignored it. It was probably important, but his bedroom was all but definitely vital, and therefore had priority until this was no longer the case.
The logic was flawless... to a point.
There was nobody inside the room when he burst inside. No bold-natured thief, no palace official, no mysterious underground agent or assassin. What he saw instead was much, much worse: Glass strewn across the well-worn wooden floor, in the middle of which lay a glowing, smoldering ring of metal made of two thin, interwinding bands and at about the same diameter around as a blacksmith's arm.
Soren knew what it was, generally speaking, almost immediately on sight. He therefore knew that his shop was beyond saving, that he could no longer stop it burning; trying would only quicken the fire, and may well kill him in the process.
What fortune that he'd studied alchemy and artifice rather than magecraft, for his master's mark! Oh yes, a runesmith could turn out enchanted blades at least as sharp and sturdy as his own, and do it faster, with fewer materials and a significantly lower production cost. But Soren, on the other hand, had seen the silvery metal known as sodium before - if only as part of a cautionary lecture on the various things one should or should not try to mix with soda, lye, and quicklime.
It wasn't just the fact that the shiny metal lumps embedded along the circlet were hissing on one side, and that the iron bands that held them were burning red-hot marks into the floorboards. That could have been magic for all he knew, and in fact he was sure that this was also a case where magic would have been the cheaper and easier way to accomplish the same apparent results. No, what gave it away was the wax layer coating the entire circlet.
Smashing the metal against his window had scraped through the wax at the point of contact, exposing some of the embedded sodium to the open air within the room. Hardly more than a second had gone by since that moment, and the sodium burned quickly enough to melt the wax around it almost immediately - which uncovered even more of the metal as it went, accelerating the process further. Only a small piece of the far side of the ring retained a coating by the time Soren cast eyes on it, and the pool of melted wax beneath had already ignited from the heat. His entry caused some of the sodium chunks to fall from their molds along the hotter side of the ring, tumbling to the wax-covered hardwood below, as the floor shook slightly from his approach.
Of all the things that baffled the finder about this arsonous discovery, the most frightening thought was: Why!??
The amount of expense and trouble someone would have to go through, to manufacture something like this, was extraordinary. And to think of bringing it here! Who would walk along the street with such a parcel, knowing that any wrong movement, any collision or stumble, could very quickly and irreversibly start a reaction that would put the bearer in such a position as to make self-immolation a comparatively optimistic expectation of the outcome?
On the other hand... if burning houses was the ultimate goal, then it was certainly efficacious. Soren knew he probably wouldn't be able to run downstairs, grab some tongs, and come back up to remove the burning metal before this fire was well and truly underway. He also knew that anything he tried to smother it with would just end up as further kindling for his effort, and that trying to douse it would be much, much worse.
An explosion from a house across the street underscored this last concern, chilling Soren to the bone with trepidation. From the sound of it, and putting together everything else he'd heard up 'till this point, poor old Julian the armorer, his neighbor and peer of more than seven years, had just tragically discovered what happens when water is brought into contact with unprotected sodium.
[ERROR. STATUS CONFLICT.
INSUFFICIENT PERMISSION TO ACCESS ELEMENT: VA_P1aa_1000.prog
IDENTIFYING AFFECTED PROCESSES…
REPAIRING…
REINSTANCING…]
An explosion from a house across the street underscored this last concern, chilling Soren to the bone with trepidation. From the sound of it, and putting together everything else he'd heard up 'till this point, poor old Julian the armorer, his neighbor and peer of more than seven years, had just tragically discovered what happens when water is brought into contact with unprotected sodium. \He was distantly aware that there was shouting going on, in the same way that he was distantly aware that Julian had died instantly from the blast. After all, he would be screaming in agony right now if he'd survived, as the vaporized lye formed from the explosion burned into his lungs and whatever exposed flesh he had left.
Obviously, the ring of metal was intended as a trap. There were any number of ways to kill a blacksmith in his shop, and there were any number of ways to set that shop afire, (even with all the precautions a blacksmith usually undertook to prevent that sort of thing, like the buckets of water they kept on hand for every floor). Some very wealthy, determined, and absolutely ruthless bastard was taking great pains to see him and his fellow craftsmen not only dead, but dead and burned as well, along with everything they'd built and worked for.
Soren, having safely avoided the trap for now, had only moments to act. The shop downstairs was not entirely fireproof, and even most of his tools and goods would be damaged or ruined when the top floor collapsed, and brought the fire down with it. His most basic tools, ones he could make do with if everything else was lost, would survive - as would he. The arsonist would not have his life, even if he did indeed lose the greater part of all his work.
But...
He spared a quick, fleeting glance at the portrait across the room, behind which sat his wall safe. In that safe, a hidden panel containing all the diagrams and calculations for his explosive bolt. A fortune, on paper. The results of long, thorough labor and experimentation, requiring tools and materials he couldn't possibly produce without his shop. It would take him at least a few seconds to retrieve the papers, but the fire was still very small at the moment, and the months of stamped-in dust and dirt on the floor had inadvertently made it just a little bit slow to catch. If he was quick and held his breath, then he could probably get the plans and come back, quite literally, unscathed - or perhaps a little singed, at the worst.
Probably.
As long as he started moving now.
____
Does he?
- Grab the plans [RISK: +3 / SPIRIT: +6 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: -1]
- Flee [RISK: -2 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: -2 / SYNC: 0]
- ??? [???]
CURRENT STATS:
RISK: 6
SPIRIT: 7
PROFIT: 3
SYNC: 5
Upstairs.
The bedroom.
The Plans!
Soren bolted for the stairs with a swiftness and immediacy of acceleration generally reserved for projectile weaponry and, as such, did not really take the time to consider what he'd do when he'd surpassed them. It was enough that he could do something when he made it to the bedroom, and if anything he could do might mark a difference for the safety and secrecy of the hidden blueprints he kept there, then that was already reason enough for him to act. The tinkle of broken glass coming from another window reached his ears, but as it was distant, and therefore somebody else's window this time, he ignored it. It was probably important, but his bedroom was all but definitely vital, and therefore had priority until this was no longer the case.
The logic was flawless... to a point.
There was nobody inside the room when he burst inside. No bold-natured thief, no palace official, no mysterious underground agent or assassin. What he saw instead was much, much worse: Glass strewn across the well-worn wooden floor, in the middle of which lay a glowing, smoldering ring of metal made of two thin, interwinding bands and at about the same diameter around as a blacksmith's arm.
Soren knew what it was, generally speaking, almost immediately on sight. He therefore knew that his shop was beyond saving, that he could no longer stop it burning; trying would only quicken the fire, and may well kill him in the process.
What fortune that he'd studied alchemy and artifice rather than magecraft, for his master's mark! Oh yes, a runesmith could turn out enchanted blades at least as sharp and sturdy as his own, and do it faster, with fewer materials and a significantly lower production cost. But Soren, on the other hand, had seen the silvery metal known as sodium before - if only as part of a cautionary lecture on the various things one should or should not try to mix with soda, lye, and quicklime.
It wasn't just the fact that the shiny metal lumps embedded along the circlet were hissing on one side, and that the iron bands that held them were burning red-hot marks into the floorboards. That could have been magic for all he knew, and in fact he was sure that this was also a case where magic would have been the cheaper and easier way to accomplish the same apparent results. No, what gave it away was the wax layer coating the entire circlet.
Smashing the metal against his window had scraped through the wax at the point of contact, exposing some of the embedded sodium to the open air within the room. Hardly more than a second had gone by since that moment, and the sodium burned quickly enough to melt the wax around it almost immediately - which uncovered even more of the metal as it went, accelerating the process further. Only a small piece of the far side of the ring retained a coating by the time Soren cast eyes on it, and the pool of melted wax beneath had already ignited from the heat. His entry caused some of the sodium chunks to fall from their molds along the hotter side of the ring, tumbling to the wax-covered hardwood below, as the floor shook slightly from his approach.
Of all the things that baffled the finder about this arsonous discovery, the most frightening thought was: Why!??
The amount of expense and trouble someone would have to go through, to manufacture something like this, was extraordinary. And to think of bringing it here! Who would walk along the street with such a parcel, knowing that any wrong movement, any collision or stumble, could very quickly and irreversibly start a reaction that would put the bearer in such a position as to make self-immolation a comparatively optimistic expectation of the outcome?
On the other hand... if burning houses was the ultimate goal, then it was certainly efficacious. Soren knew he probably wouldn't be able to run downstairs, grab some tongs, and come back up to remove the burning metal before this fire was well and truly underway. He also knew that anything he tried to smother it with would just end up as further kindling for his effort, and that trying to douse it would be much, much worse.
An explosion from a house across the street underscored this last concern, chilling Soren to the bone with trepidation. From the sound of it, and putting together everything else he'd heard up 'till this point, poor old Julian the armorer, his neighbor and peer of more than seven years, had just tragically discovered what happens when water is brought into contact with unprotected sodium.
[ERROR. STATUS CONFLICT.
INSUFFICIENT PERMISSION TO ACCESS ELEMENT: VA_P1aa_1000.prog
IDENTIFYING AFFECTED PROCESSES…
REPAIRING…
REINSTANCING…]
An explosion from a house across the street underscored this last concern, chilling Soren to the bone with trepidation. From the sound of it, and putting together everything else he'd heard up 'till this point, poor old Julian the armorer, his neighbor and peer of more than seven years, had just tragically discovered what happens when water is brought into contact with unprotected sodium. \He was distantly aware that there was shouting going on, in the same way that he was distantly aware that Julian had died instantly from the blast. After all, he would be screaming in agony right now if he'd survived, as the vaporized lye formed from the explosion burned into his lungs and whatever exposed flesh he had left.
Obviously, the ring of metal was intended as a trap. There were any number of ways to kill a blacksmith in his shop, and there were any number of ways to set that shop afire, (even with all the precautions a blacksmith usually undertook to prevent that sort of thing, like the buckets of water they kept on hand for every floor). Some very wealthy, determined, and absolutely ruthless bastard was taking great pains to see him and his fellow craftsmen not only dead, but dead and burned as well, along with everything they'd built and worked for.
Soren, having safely avoided the trap for now, had only moments to act. The shop downstairs was not entirely fireproof, and even most of his tools and goods would be damaged or ruined when the top floor collapsed, and brought the fire down with it. His most basic tools, ones he could make do with if everything else was lost, would survive - as would he. The arsonist would not have his life, even if he did indeed lose the greater part of all his work.
But...
He spared a quick, fleeting glance at the portrait across the room, behind which sat his wall safe. In that safe, a hidden panel containing all the diagrams and calculations for his explosive bolt. A fortune, on paper. The results of long, thorough labor and experimentation, requiring tools and materials he couldn't possibly produce without his shop. It would take him at least a few seconds to retrieve the papers, but the fire was still very small at the moment, and the months of stamped-in dust and dirt on the floor had inadvertently made it just a little bit slow to catch. If he was quick and held his breath, then he could probably get the plans and come back, quite literally, unscathed - or perhaps a little singed, at the worst.
Probably.
As long as he started moving now.
____
Does he?
- Grab the plans [RISK: +3 / SPIRIT: +6 / PROFIT: +1 / SYNC: -1]
- Flee [RISK: -2 / SPIRIT: 0 / PROFIT: -2 / SYNC: 0]
- ??? [???]
CURRENT STATS:
RISK: 6
SPIRIT: 7
PROFIT: 3
SYNC: 5
Last edited:
