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Character Sheet
Xernon Montgomery Huxley, artificer (44M)
Inventory:
Shock baton1
Binding ward2
Light stone3
Salvaged artificer toolkit4
Depleted power-cell5
Outer City access chit6
Threadbare longcoat7
32 Union marks8
Strange sarithal component9
Quartz-tipped artificing stylus10
Conditions:
You place the moonsteel sheets side by side and with your new stylus, begin etching a copy of the scry-marks into each of them.
You work slowly, taking your time. These copies must be exact. Your hand begins to ache. You pause to flex it, then set to work again, doing your best to ignore the incessant racket the others insist on making with their breathing. At one point Jerrim coughs into his hand. You resist the urge to hurl your stylus at him.
By the time you finish nearly an hour and a half later, your back is stiff and sore. You straighten up and stretch and your spine cracks. Jerrim and Tommith are leaning against the wall, smoking. Veyra is sitting cross-legged in the corner with her eyes closed. Volkir hasn’t moved from the door.
You compare the etchings to the scry-mark on your arm, quietly congratulating yourself for your precision, before filling them in with powdered harish flower and fixing the diodes to the ends of the moonsteel sheets.
“Tommith, come here and put out that cigarette.”
“Righto, boss.” He drops the cigarette, crushes it beneath his boot, and saunters over to you.
He rolls up his sleeve. You roll up yours. You press the moonsteel sheets into place over the scry-marks.
You pop the cork out of the vial of liquid pewter and take a deep breath.
Tommith smirks. You decide against warning him about the excruciating pain he’s about to endure.
“Hold out your arm,” you say.
He does so.
Finally, holding your forearm beside his, you pour the pewter over the moonsteel. The dull grey mercurial liquid spreads slowly to cover the moonsteel, rapidly solidifying before any spills over the edges.
You clench your fist and grit your teeth. Tommith grins. “So, what n–“
The pewter shatters, revealing burning, sour smelling harish flower beneath. The copper diodes crackle.
Tommith screams.
Pain explodes in your forearm. You manage to stifle a scream of your own, forcing it down into a strained and muffled grunt.
Tommith goes to his knees, reaching for his moonsteel sheet.
“Keep it on!” you bellow.
“It hurts!” he shrieks, face red and shiny with sweat.
He grabs at it and tugs, but Volkir grabs his arm and restrains him.
You count out ten agonising seconds, then rip the sheet off.
Volkir lets Tommith go, and he does the same.
The sheets continue to burn on the ground, smoking and curling into charred tangles.
Your skin where the moonsteel was is raw. The scry-mark is as faint as an old scar.
Condition removed:
Scry-marked.
You glance over at Tommith, whimpering on his knees. It looks like it worked, but when he pulled at the moonsteel, did he displace it? Is his scry-mark still active? It’s impossible to tell.
“Well?” Veyra asks.
No time for doubts now. “It’s done.”
She studies you for a moment. You shiver.
“Very good,” she says after a moment. “Then we’re finished here. Xernon, welcome aboard.”
Jerrim shakes his head. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you, Montë.”
“Thank you, Veyra. I won’t let you down.”
“You’d best not. All of you, come. We have much to do and little time in which to do it.” Then she turns for the door with Volkir and Jerrim close behind.
You follow, emerging into a narrow alley between two towering buildings of grime-caked stone, so tall only a narrow band of the smog-choked sky can be seen far above.
Tommith steps out behind you, sullen and scowling.
Veyra nods to a young thug in a leather cowl with a sword hanging from his belt. He nods back and falls in with the rest of you.
Then Veyra turns left and leads you through a labyrinth of gloom-ridden alleys and side-streets. You pass a trio of filthy rat-like skaavs rummaging through a mound of mouldering trash. In the shadows of a ramshackle lean-to, a pock-scarred youth is sprawled out with eyes rolled back, twitching ever so slightly, deep in the throes of a drakeroot trance. A cloaked man stands in a smoky doorway from which echoes cries that could just as easily be of pleasure as of pain. A feral dog growls, protecting the festering carcass of something you cannot identify.
“Where are we going?” You whisper to Jerrim.
He opens his mouth, but Veyra speaks first. “To reconvene with the rest of the crew and go over the plan.”
“Okay? And where are we going to do that?”
“You might be in on this job, Huxster, but you’re still not a Guild member. You know only what you need to know, when you need to know it.”
Tommith sniggers.
“You can’t just tell me? I’ll find out when you lead me there anyway.”
“No, you won’t”
“How’s that? The Thieves Guild has access to memory purges now?”
Veyra turns into a short, dead-end alley. It’s empty and there are no doors or windows in the surrounding buildings. Only… no. There’s a ring of subtle glyphwork worked into the ground. Almost imperceptible.
She turns to you, expressionless. “You will be blindfolded for the rest of the journey.”
What do you do?
Comply: Submit to being blindfolded
Cautious: “Fine, but Jerrim leads me, not Volkir.”
Sarcastic: “Should I hand over my coat and shoes while I’m at it?”
Refuse: “You can’t be serious. Either I proceed without a blindfold, or I walk.”
PSA
Moving forward, Glyhlight is going to switch to a bi-weekly release schedule. There are two main reasons for this change:
My life is going to be a little bit unsettled for the foreseeable future and I’m unlikely to be able to write as consistently as I have been.
I’ve felt as if the quality of Glyphlight has been slipping a little bit. A four day turn around is too tight for me to consistently produce work I’m happy with. Some people manage it, something I’m very impressed and perhaps a little envious of, but I can’t.
I’m hoping having the extra week to let each chapter stew, will help to ensure I’m producing something I’m actually proud of.
As consolation, I’m going to try to make each chapter longer, with more plot movement and more meaningful choices. I’m not going to make any promises on that front though.
Thank you so much to everyone who’s been following along, leaving comments, and voting on the polls. It’s an honour to have you on board and I hope you enjoy the rest of the adventure.
Thank you for your time and attention.
A collapsible steel rod with a power-cell on one end and a series of lightning-glyphs on the other. Illegal to carry without a permit, which you don’t have.
A small glyph-worked pad which when primed will briefly blind and paralyse the next person who touches it. Single use, although a clever artificer might be able to salvage it.
A fist-sized sarithal which, when activated, will produce a steady white light and hover just above your head. Good for about twenty-four hours of continuous light.
A battered collection of tools, pieced together from scrap yards, abandoned Guild depots, and trash bins. Barely functional but well-loved.
Still warm to the touch. You keep telling yourself it could be recharged or bartered with, but maybe it’s just weighing you down.
A Union ID modified to provide you with access through all Outer City checkpoints free of charge. It works most of the time.
Patched, frayed, and splitting at the seams, this coat has been keeping you warm for well on a decade now. Lined with hidden pockets, and reinforced with flexible but heavy chitinous plates.
A sad collection of coins and credit chits. Enough for a hot meal or two and a ride on the train.
Humming and inscribed with a mode of Siris Script with which you’re not familiar. You don’t know what it does and you can’t remember where you got it.
A top of the line Guild issue artificer’s stylus. Top of the line and obviously stolen. If you get caught with this you’re going to have some explaining to do.
You hurt your knee almost six months ago and it never seems to get any better. Getting old is no joke.
Unless you’re in a null-zone, Zal Kerrith will know where you are and what you’re doing.
Sixty-eight hours remain.
Understandable on the release front, you have to do what keeps the creative spark going. I’m interested to see what the decision will be for this one, I’m feeling cautious after the scry removal, but I’m not sure
No worries and I was a bit late to reading it anyway. (It’s been one of those weeks.)