By: Synbios Posted on: April 30, 2010
"Heeey, good morning Vance!"
The man turned his head towards his co-worker, Clovis. "You're late today. Had a
little too much to drink at the Fire and Spice, did we?"
"Nah, in reality, my wife decided that we spend a little...quality time before I
leave for work, if you know what I mean." He winked suggestively.
Shaking his head, Vance said, "Ah, whatever. The new batch just came in. We need
to get all these processed before Madame cuts our pay."
The two workers, along with several others, waited in the lounge as they ate
breakfast.
"How are the kids, Vance?"
"Mm, yeah, they're growing up now. Not as pesky as monkeys on kola anymore."
"Now they're as pesky as leviathans on kola, then?"
The both of them laughed, while acquaintances next to them stifled their own
chuckles.
"Seriously though, the boys want to join the Illuminati Knights. Probably
wanting to wear their shiny gold-armour."
Raising his eyebrow, Clovis replied, "Pah! Them knights are stricter than your
mother! They won't last five days in the training camps!"
"Just as planned, good Clovis. Just as planned. If they live, then they'll
probably come back as better sons. Heh heh heh."
"What about Sylvia?"
Grinning, Vance took out a sheet of parchment and brandished the unmistakable
symbol of the Occultist House.
"Oh, gods," said Clovis, his mouth agape. "I never even thought it was
possible!"
"Indeed, good man," replied Vance, his face set in a grin, "Looks like she was a
better Occultist than Serpent. Once she takes her Trial of Rebirth, she'll begin
her tutelage under the most venerable House in Ashtan."
Soon though, they heard the signal to begin work, and they filed in with the
other workers. They were given the standard tools today: work knives, hammers
and chisels, face-masks and gloves. They were led into a whitewashed room,
illuminated by glowing crystals, courtesy of the Warlocks. The room was full of
tables, and pairs of workers were assigned to each table.
"So, how's your fifth month at work?" asked Clovis, as they began to work on
their first batch. Knives flicked, hammers and chisels pounded, and bowls began
to fill up.
"Mm, I guess it's easy, and it's good pay too. Pass me the number twelve blade,
please."
"Here you go. Madame Maim's a good woman. My wife practically idolizes her."
Clovis smirked as he washed his hands with a nearby water fountain.
"Yes, well that's the price you pay for being the most respected philanthropist
in the city. Even the Overseer accompanies Maim when she helps the poor so that
he gets a share of her fame."
The two of them nodded towards the supply-man, indicating that their first batch
was done, and a cart rolled in to collect the filled bowls, and another batch
was delivered to them.
"Speaking of which, did you hear from the paperboy?"
"Lucca?" asked Clovis. "What's that brat up to?"
"No, he just reported a skirmish in Thera. Something about those thrice-damned
Templars going on a rampage to destroy shrines."
Shaking his head with disgust on his face, Vance added, "Monsters, they are.
Just two weeks ago, they slaughtered three of my drinking buddies because they
were found collecting Beastlord masks for Sylvia's Karmic rituals! We were lucky
that we had some Druid friends, but...their barbaric and oppressive rules just
sicken me."
"Calm down man, your knife's about to cut the wrong area."
"Ah! Sorry about that. Oh damn, it's still moving!"
An arm shot out of the table, its bloody fingers flailing about wildly.
"We need help here! Subject is still moving!"
Three men with daggers and hammers rushed into the room, stabbing and battering
the body until it no longer moved.
Clovis inspected the corpse, then said, "Ah well, this one's useless now. The
gland was ruptured during the fight. Take it away. It'll probably serve a better
purpose as an offering for Lord Babel."
As the body of the orphan was taken away, its face contorted in an expression of
pain, another corpse was brought in, and the workers continued their extraction
of pineal glands.
By the end of the day, the workers filed out of the room, having filled several
thousand bowls of valuable pineal glands for Occult studies. Clovis and Vance
stretched, feeling relief as joints cricked and popped. As they left the
orphanage, sharing jokes about Shallam, a little boy approached them, asking for
alms. Smiling at him, they gave him a few coins. Leaning in close, Vance said to
the child, as he pointed at the building behind him, "Go to the Loving Hearts
Orphanage. You'll get plenty of food there. Tell them Vance sent you. They'll
understand." Beaming at the kind man, the child nodded and ran to the orphanage.
Clovis sneered at his friend. "You sly dog, you."
Returning a detached smile, Vance replied, "Well, a bonus is always a good thing
in my books."