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Old June 2, 2014, 06:53 PM   #1 (permalink)
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The Degrees of Our Knowledge [Shei, Indefinite]

Continued from here.

It had been some time since the meeting in Ziel Aerca. He had let the other man set his own route and his own way of getting there. Setting instead a place to meet, the ferry across to the island. The alchemist had chosen something more of a muted look, his usual bright red shirt replaced with a dark grey one. The dyes in his hair colouring it black for the occasion. If he were to be seen, after all, it would not do for anyone to recognise him. They had taken a small small fishing skiff from the mainland, fishing skiff might have been a bit generous, the alchemist had caught the whiff of a few substances on that list that would certainly be taxed well and hard should they be taken up to the island through official channels.

The alchemist was not here to crack down on smugglers, though. Landing on the beach had been easy. The trek up into the woods, towards the mountains. That had been slightly harder, the terrain creating hindrances, especially for an alchemist not used to running around in the woods. He downed a stamina elixir to make it all the way up there. From a high perch, some distance from the city. The sun was still not quite yet below the horizon, enough light to see by. For a while. The alchemist pointed down at a series of buildings at the edge of the city. "There," said the alchemist, "that is the Paedia. They store the majority of their scrolls there, records of experiments, blueprints for designs, that kind of thing. The building off to the side is the gadgeteering workshop. I expect that will be our primary target, if we do not find what we need there, and we do not run into any unexpected trouble, we may have to go through the archives in the main building though."

The alchemist held his case up, retrieving one set of handkerchiefs, tossing it to his current… associate. "If you see any smoke, pull this over your face," the alchemist said. "Any locked doors you cannot deal with, I will take care of them."
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Old June 2, 2014, 07:05 PM   #2 (permalink)
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Adebola Omari, the face of the Dream Eater, had travelled light.

The heat of summer would have made his usual accompaniment of gothic plate beyond impractical in the island sun. Instead, he bore a patchwork armor of leather and heavy burlap, dyed in the brown hues of peasants and wandering traders. It covered his skin in a medium-weight weave, though it was far better suited for averting the trials and tribulations of shrapnel rather than blades.

They had made alternate routes; aptly so, for the Dream Eater had traversed through the astral to several towns before his arrival at this one, tending to his business, and prepared new weapons for the journey. The silenced flintlocks hung from his waist, strapped one by one to a belt hidden behind layers of cloth.

A casting of Liberation lingered on his body, augmented by time distortion. It would provide strength, dexterity, and endurance. However limited his options in manifesting his arcane talents before the alchemist, the presence of such things would at least provide a safety net in working with his mortal body. It had a long time indeed since he had fought with an unaugmented form. But if all went well, there would be no need to fight at all.

An intrusion by two “traders” into an imperial research facility did not smile upon carelessness.

Tying the hankerchief around his neck, the swarthy man nodded.

“Very good. Let us move along then.”


Under the dusk of the fallen suns, he crept forward.
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Old June 2, 2014, 08:17 PM   #3 (permalink)
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They'd creep forward, finding that what security the Paedia implemented was lax, if any. The city had other things to put their resources towards, really. A small security detail, and the city guard if things really went south. But that second part only worked if somebody spotted trouble and managed to run to the watch in a timely fashion. Thus, a bigger problem would probably be being caught by a researcher and letting him escape or something.

So far, though? No problems. It was dusk time, and things were winding down.
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Old June 3, 2014, 12:47 PM   #4 (permalink)
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“Lighter than expected,” he remarked, as his eyes scanned for terrain at a distance that could be used to obfuscate his form.

Perhaps some talented and ambitious men would seek to burn the midnight oil, and work through the cover of darkness. They would have to deal with such men directly.. but for the rest, salaried and comfortable, the elf expected they would soon leave.

“Perhaps a candlemark staking out this location would thin out our opposition. These men live under the regularity of wage slavery; to them, this brightening is much like any other.”


If there was terrain to hide behind, the only cost as time.

And what was time to an elf?
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Old June 3, 2014, 06:56 PM   #5 (permalink)
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"Certainly," said the alchemist, patience was not necessarily a dracon trait, but it was most certainly an alchemist's trait. So he waited with this man, though he was none to keen on traipsing through the woods in the dark, stumbling over every little rock or root. The lack of light was something he had a solution to anyway, but many preferred to spend their work hours during the day, rather than hurt their eyesight and try to read by the light of candles. There were ways around that, naturally, but not ones he was all too keen on sharing.

Once the had gone below the horizon proper and the light started fading, the alchemist picked up his case and slowly, but surely made his way towards the Paedia. Honestly, he was more used to moving through city street than the woods and it was slow going. Once there though, it was just a matter of finding a way in. If they had locked up, all the better, that meant no one was likely to be there.
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Old June 4, 2014, 12:00 AM   #6 (permalink)
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So they'd wait. Night would come, and the number of guards would decrease accordingly. This was a thing that totally made sense to happen. And neither of them would be detected in the meantime.
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Old June 4, 2014, 01:13 AM   #7 (permalink)
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The man nodded, shrouded by the dark of night.

He drew one of his silenced flintlocks, and followed the alchemist.

A pulse of the Sigil-eyes would allow him to see through dark and sound; a trinket, barely registering as more than a blip even to any who could see past the Shroud.

And then, he would search for much the same as the alchemist – an entrance point; a door, a window, a roof low enough to scale… anything and everything.
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Old June 4, 2014, 05:21 PM   #8 (permalink)
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Right. It was time to find a door. He did not involve the other man in idle chatter, as others might have. The alchemist had little care for such things and besides he was far too busy ensuring he did not trip over anything in the dark. The other man seemed a sight more used to making his way through the woods at night.

Once down at the Paedia proper though, it was a simple matter of finding an entrance. A door would do, locked or not made little difference. The alchemist had ways around locked doors, unlocked ones just needed a good tug. While the inside of a gadgeteer's workshop held little interest to the alchemist, he was not here solely for his own benefit. More was the pity, that might just have to be seen to later.
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Old June 5, 2014, 03:57 PM   #9 (permalink)
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They found a door. They opened the door. They were in the Paedia. Lots of places they could go. Like the gadgeteer's wing over there, for instance!
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Old June 6, 2014, 05:01 AM   #10 (permalink)
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The elf closed the door behind them as they entered, wary now that they had stepped within the building.

Whatever happened within, it would be best to avoid suspicion from the outside world.

The flintlock grasped firmly in both hands, he moved through the Paedia, peering through the dimness of night for guards or researchers – lights, flickering flame, and the hints of mortal life.

To the gadgeteer’s wing, then.
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Old June 7, 2014, 08:14 PM   #11 (permalink)
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The alchemist was doing his best at staying silent, peeking around corners, checking bookshelves before going on through. For the most part though, he left the gunsmith to it. It was important to ensure that there were no nasty surprises waiting for them, people who were still here, traps, guards, guard dogs, that kind of thing.

He was not particularly interested in things in the gadgeteering wing, their tools were not his tools, and while it might be interesting to look at, well, that was it. The alchemist had his own craft, badgeteering was mildly interesting, but nothing more than that. Gadgeteers sought to make things, alchemists sought to understand things. The difference could not be more profound.
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Old June 7, 2014, 10:21 PM   #12 (permalink)
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A single guard, making the rounds, whistling cheerfully as he strolled down a hallway, lantern in hand. The only obstacle right now between themselves and the gadgeteer's wing. All they had to do was get past the guard and through those doors over there.

Surely they could figure this out without things going terribly wrong, right? No explosions necessary, yes?
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Old June 7, 2014, 11:08 PM   #13 (permalink)
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Violence would be the last resort.

While a guard, unaware, could be dispatched with as little as a flintlock shot or a dagger to the throat, surely there was more than one guard in the facility.

If this unfortunate victim were to miss a rendezvous, it could well raise suspicions of those involved – and with what the elf was planning this darkening, it not bode well for concerns to arise before the final act.

Thus, he simply found a hiding place – behind a cabinet, desk, or anything of the sort that the lantern’s light would not fall upon – and waited for the guard to pass.

He would watch, ascertaining the patterns of procession, seeing whether they were repeated, and whether there were vulnerabilities and blind spots in his foe’s patrol, all the while with a flintlock in his left and his reverse’d dagger in his right.
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Old June 7, 2014, 11:08 PM   #14 (permalink)
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He noted the presence of the guard and hid himself as well, he did not quite have the patience of the gunsmith though, nor his reliance on the guard's fixed patrols. People were weak and disorderly, he would not necessarily follow the same pattern twice. So instead the alchemist merely waited till the guard got close.

This was, after all, why the alchemist was here. The gunsmith might have been able to take out a guard with his guns. Those things were loud and nasty things and would probably alert others to their presence. The alchemist had something a little more subtle in mind. He wrapped his scarf tightly around his face and motioned for the gunsmith to do the same.

There was a small pouch at his belt, filled with a simple white and silver powder, a concoction all his own. He threw some of it down onto the ground around the guard. It detonated with a simple puff, creating a cloud of white smoke. That should put the guard to sleep in no time at all. The alchemist was not opposed to killing, as a whole, but he saw no reason do to it needlessly. Putting this man into a deep slumber would do the trick, by the time he came to they would be long gone.
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Old June 7, 2014, 11:18 PM   #15 (permalink)
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Looking over at the alchemist's signal, the man nodded, pulling his scarf around his face and winding it tightly.

To not apply force was an application all in its own.

But, the man of Aquinas would choose the path of direct action.

Then, let the Dream Eater bear witness to his efficacy.
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