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The Inquisitives Rhakir's PBEM game.

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Old 01-18-2012, 10:33 AM
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Arrow Prelude - Anselm

The rain coming down on Anselm d’Cannith was starting to get on his nerves. He was already having a bad enough evening, having discovered that his personal laboratory had been burglarised. And the attitude and ineptitude of the Watch was less than stellar, as the indifferent and uninterested junior watchmen made more of a mess of his lab while ‘searching for clues’ than the burglars had. The Watch Inquisitive arrived almost two hours later (which did nothing to improve Anselm’s disposition for having to wait so long) and cursed out the two watchmen when she arrived, but the damage had already been done and the scene was too contaminated to do a proper investigation.

When Anselm had arrived at his laboratory earlier in the evening, he noticed that the vault-like main door was wide open, and the place had been thoroughly gone through. He immediately summoned the Watch after making sure the burglars were not still on the scene, but the lacklustre performance of said Watch officers did little to help matters. Upon his own inspection of the workplace, he came to realise that most everything appeared to be left untouched. Projects he had been working on had been left alone, and a few completed pieces that were waiting to be collected or delivered had not been disturbed.

Unfortunately, his desk and filing cabinets had been totally trashed. It was apparent that the contents of all the drawers had been dumped out and rifled through. And the small safe he had hidden underneath the floorboards and set into the stone of the tower itself, had been broken into and gone through as well. It was then that he realised what the thieves had been after.

About a month and a half ago, Anselm had received a message via the House Sivis Messenger Service. It was an invitation to meet and discuss a revolutionary new idea in potions and infusions. Intrigued by the invitation, Anselm went to the conference hall at the Orris Hotel in Drugan Tower, in the Central Plateau expecting to see a room full of fellow artificers or practitioners of magic, maybe even a professor or two from Morgrave University.

He definitely wasn’t expecting to be the only guest in attendance.

He was met by a woman by the name of Clarice St Claire, a petite woman dressed in business attire with her jet-black hair done up in a severe bun, who introduced herself as his ‘liaison’. She appeared to be very formal and professional. Anselm was informed that he alone was chosen by Ms St Claire’s employer to look into a project that would change the way potions were created. The young artificer was about to leave when the liaison indicated there would be substantial monetary compensation for his work, with a sizable sum to be offered up front for his participation. It was enough to give the young man pause to consider the proposal.

Ms St Claire provided him with the scope of the project that her employer wanted him to work on. Essentially, it was a proposal to combine the properties of various different potions into one effusion, creating a powerful new hybrid potion. It was an ambitious project, considering the complexity of such a task. It wasn’t as simple as pouring two different potions together into one vial. The components must be made to work together rather than cancel one another out, or worse, have a different outcome all together as a result.

If successful, Anselm would be given full credit for his research, and would be rewarded with a lucrative bonus by Ms St Claire’s employer. With his permission the successful process would then be put into production for various markets; military, industrial, and medical applications were only the beginning. And Anselm d’Cannith was being given the opportunity to be in on the ground floor of this ambitious endeavour…

The initial investment was a cheque for 5,000 gold sovereigns. His first assignment was to combine Endure Elements with Enlarge Person, and to combine Bull’s Strength with Cat’s Grace – two separate hybrid effusions. Ms St Claire’s employer, referred to only as “M”, was expecting weekly reports to be sent via secured messenger through House Sivis.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Anselm rationalised his decision to do it based on the overall good that would come from a breakthrough in the field of potion making. And he could work on this assignment while continuing his other projects and commissions. There really wasn’t a down side to it.

Until now…

All of his formulas and notes on his potions work had been stolen. The few small samples of the combined potions he created had also been taken.

Oddly, his House Cannith Maker’s Mark and various other important documents and notes were left behind by the thieves. Whoever burglarised his laboratory knew exactly what they were after and wasted no time taking anything else.

The Watch seemed to be utterly useless this evening, and Ms St Claire had yet to reply to the message he sent from the House Sivis Messenger Service a little while ago. It was probably too soon to expect any kind of response, considering it was nearly two hours past midnight.

Anselm glanced over at the finished projects bench and spied a finished pair of speciality goggles that were waiting to be collected. They were commissioned a while back by Antos Keldoran, an inquisitive that worked not too far away from the artificer’s lab. The inquisitive was supposed to pick them up over a week ago, but had sent a message that he was pretty busy and would have to wait. Usually that meant that the buyer could no longer afford the balance due, but he was pretty sure Keldoran was good for the money. The dwarf was a good man, and well respected. He was probably just in too deep with work.

Anselm considered paying Keldoran a visit to drop off the goggles, collect the balance due on them, and maybe see if the dwarf would be willing to have a look at the lab to see if he could figure anything out. After he got some sleep, of course. The day’s events were rapidly catching up on the young man.

Tomorrow. He would go see Keldoran tomorrow…
Pessimism is just an ugly word for pattern recognition...

Necessity is the mother of moral reletivism...
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