LIGHTNOVELONLINE 159 – Funny Little Man in a Jar
Krahe appraised the drink.
[Decoction of Mind's Dawn]
[Status:]
Exceptional (High Quality, Low Concentration)
[Details:]
Perfect Recall A1
Memory Formation Amp C2
Mental Energy Amp C2
Mental Clarity Amp C1
Sleep Replacement D3
She was, much to Razem's amusement, taken aback by the litany of effects.
"It's my personal blend, what do you think? Sorun used to pester me for the recipe whenever he came by to get a refill. Wonder why he hasn't come by lately, hope his overgrafting hasn't finally caught up with him..." he trailed off, swirling his one-third full glass. He grew somber, before taking another sip and perking up again. "Anyhow, let us get back on track. "
"Right, right. It's not really surprising that there are remnants floating around. The church is too big and ponderous to effectively exterminate such an elusive enemy, and the Inquisition, despite being the Inner Wheel's dedicated scalpel, suffers to some degree from the same issues. It doesn't help that they're eternally stretched hair-thin. One inquisitor is really good. Two? Great. Outstanding. Three? Nearly guaranteed that it will get solved, and solved quickly."
Razem took a sip. His expression soured, as if the flavour had suddenly caught up to him. With a sigh, he placed the glass back on the table and continued speaking:
"But that never happens. One is usually good enough, and they're spread hair thin as it is. They put me on the case because they hoped I was the right man for the job, being the only anathemist inquisitor in a while. I was, but not for the reasons they thought. Turns out someone who dives into anathemism for his own reasons is much worse as material for the human charcoal process than a normal person. The curse struggles to take hold due to built-up tolerance, and the resulting charcoal is laden with Bane Soot. Knowing how widespread and how slippery those bastards were back in their heyday, I'm not surprised that people are still finding remnants. Did you find anything as significant as the lantern? Another relic or tool?"
"I haven't combed through all of the perpetrator's home yet. I was thinking of trying to summon the contents of her personal Kenoma storage, if she had one."
"Well, I can give you a one-use kit for that, but don't expect much. You're placing yourself at the mercy of the gulf's tides, and given the circumstances of her death, her storage will have likely dispersed even more rapidly than normal. Oh, and uh... Don't open the kit until you're ready to use it."
"One of the rooms is also ward-locked."
"I... Cannot give you ward-breaking equipment, as it's fairly delicate work with oft-lethal consequences for failure, but I can assign someone to your case with the skills and qualifications to break the local warding. Come, let us handle the rest of the paperwork so that you may be rid of this old man."
With that, Razem got up and packed up his things, and suddenly, the aura of regal detachment returned to him. He led Krahe back to the surface - an office decorated similarly to the one in which he had examined and treated her. The report had already been written; Razem now updated Krahe's contractor ID. Then, came the question:
"How would you prefer to be paid? Solid-state? Coinage? Thaumine?"
"Rings."
Utterly unsurprised, the old man smiled and gave a nod: "Very well, but I'll have to account for the market exchange rate, I'm sure you understand. It will take a day or two to turn the cogs of bureaucracy given the magnitude of this case - do you have an address where you would prefer to have the reward delivered, or would you rather pick it up at the temple?"
She honestly wanted to say Gashward Road 94, but she wasn't there often enough and for long enough periods of time to not worry about the package being stolen.
"Send it to the Seven Spokes shrine on Gashward Road," she said. There was only one on that street, well away from no. 94.
"Of course - I shall have the ward-breaker contact you using that address as well. Ah, not to forget, wait here for a moment."
Razem left, returning with an elongated box of dark wood, taped shut lengthwise with fabric covered in holy symbols."
"I must reiterate, do not open it until you intend to use it... And do not place it in Kenoma storage under any circumstances."
Inside the box was a clump of flesh with a face. No skin, no hair, just purplish meat and a face.
It was tiny, just a bit larger than her fist, and contained in a sealed jar. Various equipment filled the remaining space, including instructions for what looked suspiciously close to Barzai's angle-web, the reagents to draw it, and a sheet of vellum with an intensely herbal, nose-stinging scent. She was to draw the sigil on the vellum, place it as close to the site of death as possible, then set the "gulfcaller" in the middle and supply thauma.
The purpose of the weird homunculus revealed itself when Krahe did as instructed, and the gulfcaller began reciting a complex incantation whilst also throat-singing in a second voice. It grew arms and legs, immediately doubled over and began dry-heaving. It stopped half a minute later and, looking up at krahe, turned side-to-side as if it was shaking its head. The weird little creature then climbed back into the jar, fell limp, and shriveled up to barely half of its original size. Disappointed, she left everything as it was, locked the place up, and left, her end goal being to just return to the safehouse before she went out to look into Eutropia in the evening.
Krahe meandered through the city for longer than she needed, visiting a craftsman's workshop whose repertoire included both eyeglasses and low-level artifacts. The place was deserted and run by a shriveled little man with a large mustache and eyebrows just as prominent as it. She queried him on how much it would cost to have her glasses upgraded and how long it would take.
This was, in fact, the sixth craftsman who did this kind of work that she was visiting. As such, she confidently requested a specific upgrade: "I'll need at-will Appraise Object of C-Three or B-One grade, Extended Highlight Magic Object Plus C-One, Detect Baneworm D-Three, Detect Life D-Three."
"These... Quite right, these seem like something one would take to Jas'raba. Typical construction, notably the frame is much better than the lenses. Since the lens shape is standard round stock, I can pencil your order in for... Next month on the twentieth. Is that good?"
She nodded, "Sure."
"Good, good. The down payment will be fifty percent; if you don't show up, I won't be able to easily sell the lenses to someone else. Pick them up within another month of the agreed-upon date."
"With my hard requirements out of the way, I would also like Anti-Appraisal Penetration of C-One or better. Can you do that?"
The craftsman stopped at that request, regarding her with a dubious gaze. It was a bit more than usual - but within norms. She couldn't ask a random craftsman to give her glasses that could see through anything truly good, but she wanted at least something that could reliably defeat low-mid level shielding.
"I understand that such things are desirable for many people, but you must understand that I cannot risk the guilt of equipping a thief or perhaps a scoundrel..."
They looked at each other for a few seconds. He was waiting for a response.
"Well? Do I seem like a thief or perhaps a scoundrel?"
The old man laughed. It was a fake laugh.
"I'm kidding. I don't give a shit what you do with my work. It's not as if I'm selling anything truly valuable like high-grade voidkeys..."
From the way he awkwardly transitioned from one sentence to the next, it felt like she had failed to provide a keyword. Then, Krahe noticed the spark of recognition in his eye, and the way he glanced at her arm, which was fully covered by both her jacket and a glove. She didn’t bring it up, but she did give him a lowball counter-offer when he quoted her his price. He didn’t fight her on it.
