Bone of Contention

"Anyways, so the last time Gel deigned to show up in Chel, I went to his lab for a chat, nothing you'd care for, and then, the Deneld brat shows his ugly head and begins yapping something about yet another stupid project of his.Classy as always, Gel makes a show of listening to the stink with a skink."

The older of the two drow giggled at her own joke and took another sip of wine.

Mal'ril, the younger drow lady laughed along, her attention split between following the story and her own thoughts - after all, despite the sweet surface wine (Who in Chel's sewers does she get it from? Not even mother has some around that often, and she's certainly richer than a middling arcanist whose proper House doesn't even really exist anymore.) providing a good enough reason to drop by for a chat by itself, today she was here to do business.

"Right so he goes on and on about this stupid underwater construct thing for harvesting some crap, and I wait until he's bobbing up and down like a bat caught in a web, and then I go 'Very clever,except for being utter crap. It'll get shorted out.' and he just opens his ugly maw like a fish, and Gel stares at me and I go 'Uh, pond scum dispersed in the water down there? Half of the stuff that lives there uses natural magic for light, and those of us who have the least idea about the art of necromancy know that the charge does not just go away after they die and rot?' Goddess, and he just did this amusing stuttersqueak, grabbed his stack of papers and legged it. 'Your star pupil lost his shine rather quickly, Gel'" "Oh Goddess." Mal'ril took a sip on her own. "What. A. Total. Moron. And all with that eternal 'Stin'baldrin, your assignment was excellent; Astute observation, Stin'baldrin;Excellent rectal spelunking technique, Stin'baldrin.' I swear, if I sat with my nose in books as long as he does, I'd know half of our library by heart, not just a bunch of stupid examples."

This time, the older of the pair cracked up, almost knocking her glass from the lab table that not an hour ago hosted a number of jars with specimens of something Mal'ril thought rather disgusting. "Isn't he just the little brown-noser? Lolth's tits, he sucks up on commoners."

"Speaking of those, Burmice, there's a bit of a. . . thing. Should be a trifle for you, really."

"What, you decided you want a skeleton pet?"

"Pfft, not that. It's . . . eh. You know Lesreel? That little ratty commoner would-be-wizard. Well, apparently he's been poking his nose into Talabral's business and he kinda asked me if I couldn't do something about it. And you know how I.."

Burmice sighed. "Oh come on, can't Talabral handle the little wretch on his own?" She dropped into a whisper. "Besides, I don't think he could ever pay enough for me to go through the hassle. I mean do I look like a Kenaghim or something?"

"Oh you silly you. Nobody's talking of that. Just, you know, giving him a bit of a talk. You do that *so* well." Mal'ril smiled. "Besides, aside from my thanks, you know those gems you needed for that ritual? Well, Talabral knows someone in his House that could get you a whole lot of scrap ones, from the duergar polishing them." Burmice leaned backwards and began toying with a strand of her hair.

"When you put it that way. . . why not?" She refilled both glasses. "To fun and profit?"

"To fun and profit."

An hour or so later, the bottle was empty, and Mal'ril left the company of her friend with a stash of fresh rumours, a light head, and the feeling of a job well done.



"Using Bigby's theorem, prove that Levitation is a transmutative spell rather than an evocation. State a similar evocation and modify it to have effects equivalent to Levitation. Why is the first type of spell more commonly used? Describe a situation in which this wouldn't be the case.
 * Find a similar conjuration and modify it to have effects equivalent to Levitation. What are the advantages and disadvantages of this approach?"

Lesreel Xun'dar stared at the assignment sheet in front of him. At a first glance the whole exercise resembled a set of teeth growing on an arse - intimidating, but completely useless.

''On second thought, that'd probably hurt, too. Still. . . theory, and then three ways of doing something I never needed once. Kord's fist, I want to do useful things, like that time he showed us elemental substitution.''

He grinned. Frostballs, good name, bro. He shifted on the chair and forcefully opened his spellbook. ''Come on, Les. it's not going to bloody go away. The hardest part is to begin.''

He grabbed the quill, dipped it into an inkwell, and blocked the last bit of free space on the desk with a sheet of paper. ''Right. It's not an evocation because while energy is being created, it's a function of... yes.''

He began scribbling down a rather long equation. ''Bigby's theorem states that the energy created by an evocation is independent of target system properties. Yep! Limit of energy created goes to zero as target system mass goes to zero, plain as day from step three! Allright, that's the first bit down.''

Lesreel stretched and cracked his knuckles. ''Now the second... hmm, Tenser's floating disc? Now, what do I need to-''

"Oh hello, Lesreel, got time for a little chat? I'm sure you do."

He turned towards the noise. The sugar-sweet voice which severed his chain of thoughts belonged to a colleague of master Gelthrael he has seen around a good few times, both with him, and with Mal'ril. More often with Mal'ril, in fact, which by itself pointed to all kinds of things, none of them pleasant.

"Sorry. I'm rather busy. Anything I might?" The intrusion wasn't welcome, but best keep polite, at least so far as she did. After all, she was an arcanist, and likely of a noble house (Like Mal'ril gave a damn about anyone who wasn't), both traits of people one generally wanted to be on the good side of.

"Oh I'm sure you are." Get on with it, he thought in passing - much like pulling teeth, this was the sort of thing best handled fast, and similarly pleasant, too. "So, let's keep it quick. You've been... a bit of trouble lately. Very much *not* a wise choice."

"I'm sorry?" Oh fuck. Obviously an attept to press at him, that said, her version of getting to the point seemed to involve a lot more faffing about than was usual. Almost as if she was enjoying it.

"Oh, you will be, unless you keep your ratty little commoner nose out of others' business. Am I being clear?" Her demeanor changed, and so did her appearance - asides from significantly messier hair (Lolth's arse, but it's odd what does one notice in a situation like this), her left eye rose out of its socket, surrounded by a sunk in ring of scar tissue where the eyelids should be, shooting out to the sides like the hyphae of a cave fungus.

He scrambled for an intelligent response, but couldn't focus, his eyes drawn to her face, and his stomach feeling a vague unease as the odd eye seemed to stare right into him. He began to shiver. ''Why are you shaking? Get a grip, you webknot. What'd bro think?'' The feeling subsided - he was still alert, but the thought of Kelinyon let him relax a bit and collect his thoughts - after all, when Kel wanted, he sure could be scarier than this theatrical hag.

"You mean Talabral." Les said, gathering all his self-control to keep his voice calm and rather bland.

"Ooh, so we do understand each other." She reached out, touching his cheek. "I like it when you're clever like that. Keep at it and keep to yourself and all shall be peachy."

Her hand felt cold, dry, and there was the slight smell rather like the dead rat Kel pulled out of the wine barrel in that house... he involuntarily chuckled at the memory.

"Or be a nosy idiot, and it'll hurt.". Lesreel felt his cheek burn under her touch, and instinctively reached forth, grabbing her wrist with one hand. Formulating words of power in his mind, he took a deep breath.

"Disperse" She drew in the air with her finger, and the energy he felt accumulating within his chest fizzled out.

"Shout? Cute. Now get back to your scribbles, and make the smart choice." Smiling, the hag turned on her foot and walked off, heavy shoes clanking against the floor. Watching her leave, Lesreel rubbed the painful, itching lesion on his cheek.

Where was I. Tenser's floating disc.

"Another bucket? But in the webbed pits." Burmice sighed, as the inflated bladder in the bucket floated up high enough to, through forcing a piece of leather on its top, knock a handful of screws and junk in the rough direction of a metal tray on the floor below. It made a hell of a noise, which was the point - it alerted her to swap the buckets instead of the water sneakily flooding the lab floor.

With a clunk, she put her legs down from a chair, pocketed the nail file, and stood up.

"Nux". The lines of Lazrien House crest on her ring lit up momentarily. With a quick motion, she grabbed the outflowing stream in one hand, shifted the buckets around, and let the water bead fall into the empty one with a splash, followed by the usual steady trickle coming from the large barrel behind. The purpose of the whole mechanism, built by Gelthrael to her specifications a few decades ago, was to dehydrate the unlucky water elemental inside, thus preparing it to be raised as a dessicator.

''Five gallons, that makes thirty five so far, about four buckets more? Tomorrow it should be good to work with.''She threw the bladder into the bucket, and with a sweeping motion of the ringed hand, lifted the leather and the screws into air.

bang bang bang

The door of her lab resonated with the impacts of someone's fist, or foot.

"Mal? But you know you don't need to knock, silly. Come in!"

bang bang bang

"Now, who in the webbed pits is that? Did the moron come for his wretch two days early?" she muttered under her breath, then raised her voice. "For Goddess's sake, I'm busy, so unless all of Chel is burning down!"

BANG BANG BANG

''That's it. If it's one of Quilmyr's students that got shitfaced again and thinking my lab's their arse of a hovel, I'll tear his motherkilling hand off, and make it tear off his junk and choke him with it.''

She took a deep breath, released her hold on the floating metal bits which scattered around on the floor, walked over to the door. "Didn't you hear I'm busy?!" She swung them open and the sight in front made her pause and stare, being as far from an inebriated sorcerer as possible. Burmice wasn't short, or a twig, but the towering figure of the door-damaging intruder would give Altonor a break. Hmm, Altonor. The scars on his face and the full plate he wore only served to complete the picture.

"You're one of Altonor's lot, right? Explains the habits. What in the pits does he want that you got to break my door for it?"

The giant laughed. "Good guess, Ma'am, name's Kelinyon, but I just came for a chat."

"A CHAT?" That was it.

Altonor's lot were a bunch of rowdy morons, but this was a step too much. Especially on days like this one, when you feel like your mind took off on a holiday and left her stupid brother in charge.

"GET OUT!" SLAM To her surprise, the door rebounded off the other drow's extended palm.

For a moment, Burmice hesitated.

"Gotta try harder than that! Even my little bro sure can.'S wh-".

SLAP Any further hesitation dispelled, the plated drow's still laughing face became the target of a backhand strike from Burmice's palm, his skin rotting under the impact.

"You have a brother? Your mother should have strangled both of you, then your lame father whose lame-"

Before Burmice could get in a second slap, one of the warrior's hands took hold of her wrist, the second her collar, and he lifted the necromancer up with surprising ease.

"PUT ME DOWN!" she shrieked, and made a grab for his face with her free hand, thin bands of darkness rippling around her fingers. Before she could discharge the field through his eyes, the response came in the form of a rapid jerk that sent her flying through the lab.

Burmice of Lazrien impacted the metal barrel with a dull thud, and fell on the outlet, bending the piece of copper piping and knocking the bucket out of the way.

Goddess.... Her head was spinning, and she felt the urge to throw up. Instinctively, she placed her hand on her forehead and absorbed the charge. The world became clear again, and ...

''He's already here. Fuck.''

She rolled over sideways, avoiding the incoming fist, and ended up under one of the lab's tables. Webbed pits, how did it go...I draw upon the power of the void of Carceri... She brought her hands together and began to frantically sketch with her nail, leaving a glowing path on her other palm.

SMASH

The table above her split in half, pencils, papers, beakers, scalpels, bones of various shapes and sizes and a bottled specimen of an unborn dire rat piling up on her.

"You rothe dick, that table was new! Child of the void, feed on his soul!" The sigils on her palm, now turned at him, ceased to glow and from it, a dark shape the size of a pebble with five long threadlike strands lurched towards him.

Not one to stand and wait, the other drow threw himself away from the witch and the thing she sent his way. Luckily for her, the screws underfoot made his boots lose grip, and reflexively, he counterbalanced with an arm swing.

"Fuck."

One of the threads wrapped around his arm, the thing pulled itself closer, and entered him.

"Not quite what it does." Next to him, Burmice turned, rose to her knees, and stood up, dusting off debris from her dress. "But looking at your spiderarse of a face, you found out already."

With a smile, she lunged after him, placing one blow crackling with necrotic energy after another, leaving deep burns, and forcing him to backstep. He swung a fist at her face, only to be blocked by a cold, dry, and surprisingly hard palm.

"Oh my, but how strong are you...and is it me or you can't even get a word in? Altonor would be so proud."

The glow around her hand strengthened, bones becoming visible underneath the skin. "Nice bones, though. Pity Gel would likely whine at me if I used you for spare parts. Mmm, I wonder what to kick you out with. Mummy rot?"

"FIST OF KOOORD!" Suddenly, her opponent broke his silence and apparent stupor with a low swing of his fist. She blocked, only for the fist to carry on unimpeded and ram her own hand into her lower chest with a sickening crack.

"*cough* Oww.. you rothe!" She staggered for a moment, then dashed backwards.

"Let's finish this." She picked up a small droplet of her own blood with a nail and began to mumble, sketching with her finger in mid-air, and leaving a thin, red trace. The other drow didn't wait for anything, and rushed forth, his elbow ready for a strike.

"By the sigil of Aunisstra of Lazrien and my own blood I bind your strength!" The web, hanging in mid-air shot forth, and enveloped the warrior just as he slammed into her, dropping her into the remains of the table, and falling on top of her.

"Oww.."

With a surprised look on his face, the warrior stood up with effort, then, with a wide smile, offered his hand to an even more surprised Burmice.

"Haha! That was pretty neat there! Not bad moves for a witch. Say, another match next week, in our arena? Would help your figure, and I bet you wouldn't be so grumpy, too. Anyways, gotta go.. my.. Right, that's why I was here. Don't fuckin' mess with my bro!"

The other drow turned around, and limped out of the lab, still smiling like all his enemies dropped dead.

"GET THE FUCK OUT! cough Oww. Fucking Kordite thugs."

''My .. everything hurts. Fuck.. I hope that's my blood and not the jar'' She tried to get up, then settled on rolling over on the arm that didn't hurt so much, and began to slowly and carefully absorb strands of negative energy to heal her battered body.

''I need to do something about security a few more visits like this and to the pits with everything. Makes one wonder... who the fuck is that idiot's brother?''



Excerpt from personal log of Stin'Baldrin Deneld:

Last week was such a fascinating experience.

I was about to show the blueprints for the Pelican harvester, (Those birds are so full of clever tricks, like air sacks under the skin that help keep them afloat. I'd want to see a live one one day.) to master Gelthrael and iron out some minor kinks and figure out the prototype's cost.

Webs above, was I lucky.

The prototype had a glaring mistake neither of us noticed. Turns out that once again, life is not a textbook case - you can drop the mip* into an aquarium and it'll happily swim all over, but as Burmice (who was there) pointed out, real water around Chel is full of magic-charged particles, especially down near the bottom, which would short the real thing out.

I spent three days at various pools, gathering silt samples, yesterday I plowed through the analysis, and it's as good as it could be. The spectrum given out by the samples is almost uniform (Once again, she was right. Webs, how must it feel to have so much experience to just know these things.) and as such, insulating Pelican should be easy and cheap.

What's more. . . if the residue could be harvested (and modifying Pelican would work) and the uncharged part removed, it could be used in making permanent light fixtures, and that's just a start. I wonder if I can come up with a cheap enough filtration process.

* micro-prototype. Artificer slang for a specific type of small-scale mock-up.