Blessed Clay 1 – A mark, a thing, a tale

Uklag finally makes the checkmark next to the Dragonbone. A satisfied grin on his lips he say, “Well, that was the hardest – but not the most uncomfortable part.” He says and taps on the page. “Now for the two really annoying ingredients. Catherine?” The apprentice lazily raises her upper body from the bed. “Yes, Msater?” she tiredly yawns, trying her best not to immediately fall back into the bed and to sleep. “Are there any reservoirs of blessed clay around these parts?”

She shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. The location of the underground mines is only disclosed to people of high political power.” Uklag hums and turns back to the page. A soft creak from the bedframe behind him indicates that Catherine has dropped right back into it. ‘Political power, ey?’ he thinks to himself, his expression one of deep thought. A click as a key is turned.

Zal enters the bedroom with fresh sheets in his arms. “Good morning, Master.” He greets and bows just deep enough to seem respectful without the sheets falling. “I hope you have rested well. I come to bring you a message from Treasurer Meltzer. Apparently the people of the shelter have brought him something of interest.”

“I will hear about it later.” Uklag says, still concentrated on the picture. “He was quite insistent, Master.” Zal says in an apologetic tone. That causes the warlock to turn his head and look at his First-Servant with a darkened expression. “Fine then.” He grabs his wooden staff and robes. “By the way.” Uklag says while tightening the strand of cloth that fixes the robes around his waist. “Would your former mistress know where blessed clay is located?”

The bald-headed man nods. “Yes, something like that was mentioned several times. I however do not know of the location, I am afraid.” Uklags expression lights up a bit and he allows himself a small grin to return. “That doesn’t matter. I wanted to make a visit in Brikstrat anyway and now I have another reason to.”

He leaves the room towards the servant’s quarter. He leaves behind an annoyed Zal that now remembers that with the return of Catherine he is back at the daily ritual of getting her out of bed before he can change the sheets. Said ritual normally involved him getting cursed at a lot.

Uklag turns a few corners and arrives at the three doors. Ignoring the numerous moans from the left one, he opens to one in the middle. Meltzer is already awaiting him, respectfully (but also with the least amount of enthusiasm possible) bowing his head on Uklag’s entrance. “I hope you have a very good reason to call m- Ohoho what do we have here?” Uklags anger is blown away by curiousity in a matter of seconds.

On the desk between them lies a bar of a dark material. From the way the light of the magical torches reflects and the way its smooth surface feels to the touch Uklag guesses it to be a metal of some description. A very weird one at that as it slowly wraps around his fingers. It is very soft and warm, almost like flesh. Uklag pulls back his hand and watches as the metal’s surface returns to its former smooth state, like a pond whose surface returns to still after a rock has been thrown into it.

“This weird thing has been brought to me about ten minutes ago. I thought you might want to look at it.” Meltzer says and looks at the living metal. “Also it creeps me out so I want to have it out of here as soon as possible.”

“Where did they find it?” Uklag asks with great interest and pokes the bar again. A small trickle of magic energy is sucked from his as it envelopes his finger again. Quickly he pulls his hand back. “Apparently it just laid around in one of the deep caves. Behind it the walls had collapsed so they couldn’t venture deeper.” Meltzer explains and watches as Uklag takes a cooper coin of his desk and pushes it at the metal to see how it reacts to in-organic materials.

The living metal starts to ‘eat’ it. First it envelopes the whole coin and pulls it inside, afterwards blubbering noises fills the room as it ingests it. Meltzer makes a disgusted sound, Uklag just looks even more interested.

“Tell them to dig deeper.” Uklag says. “I don’t care if they die in the process. Promise them something great, guaranteed weekly visits or something, just get them to find where this comes from. Also have somebody bring this thing into the enchantment quarter.”

Meltzer obeys and quickly leaves the room, wanting to get away from whatever the hell that thing is. Uklag, after feeding the metal another coin (gold this time), leaves as well. He is about to leave the three doors behind entirely when he remembers something. He turns back and knocks on the right door. “Enter.” The deep voice of Droy comes from the other side.

Once Uklag enters, the Albino raises from his comfortable seat and takes a stiff bow. “Boss, how can I help you?” he asks and sits back down while pointing at the empty chair in front of the desk. Uklag sits down and leans his staff against the armrest.

“I wanted to inform you that I will make my move against Halja Jechton soon.” Droy looks happy at that revelation. “So that bitch is getting what is coming to her.” He mumbles, his satisfaction being blandly visible in his red eyes. “I hope what you do to her is enough payback for a few years in prison.”

“Regarding that.” Uklag leans back in his chair, legs stretched out, arms folded behind his back he looks about as relaxes as he can get. “Before I hide myself in my laboratory again tell me how you ended up in that cell. I know that you smuggled stuff but I want to hear it in detail.”

The unpleasant memories that surface as Droy thinks back contort his face into a grimace. “Well, I guess that is fair.” He groans, “It’s not exactly an interesting tale though.” A shrug shows just how little Uklag cares. The Albino takes a deep breath, “To start with beginnings then.

I grew up in the land to the east: Zarima. It was a normal childhood. Which is pretty lucky if you think about all the rumours that float around regarding Albino’s like myself and ill omens. Luckily the neighbourhood I lived in didn’t care.

My family is one of farmers but I didn’t particularly like the fields. Instead, I used my muscles to help the local traders load their carts, travel with them to the city next over and help them unpack again. Slowly i made contacts and learned the craft myself. After I got my own small group of cart owners, I was exposed to the shady side of business.

Okay, that is not entirely true. Even before I met certain people I sometimes forged numbers to increase my own share of profit. Especially when women where involved, even in Zarima they earn more by default. However only with that group, I was presented with the opportunity to smuggle.

The great thing about smuggling is that you have so many wares on board that nobody notices the little book that is worth more than all the crops you have on the cart. I used less patrolled routes to get to the Estaran border; from there I would give it over to local smugglers and get my payment.

After two years of doing that my reputation had grown to be quite respectable along the lower smugglers and I got an offering. In the tunnels under Orstead are so many little hideouts that people can escape even the Estaran law. Provided they have a back that turns the public eye into the wrong direction at the worst of times.

Halja Jechton offered me such a backing. At the time, she was one of the local guild masters, meaning that she had a good amount of influence on the trade and the money to make the necessary bribes. I accepted the offer, promises of money and power turned my normal cautiousness upside down, and soon I took hold in the canalisation.

I smuggled a few things here and there but nothing too big, getting used to the new environment. Then one day Halja told me to organize a giant flow of silver to the black market. I succeeded in organizing it and at the day of the plans execution I had several dozens of crates filled halfway with silver disguised as fruits in my possession. Halja came together with the city guard.

Apparently she had some favours with the governess of Orstead. The silver was seized by the city and as the one who gave the tip Halja was gifted a sizeable portion of it as well as a bounty for my and my people capture. She made more money from that than from selling the silver normally, and the whole ordeal gave her a good standing amongst the politicians.

Everyone who worked for me either got their tongue cut out, enslaved our imprisoned in some god forsaken region of the realm. I was the only kept close, I guess she wanted to mock or something.

Afterwards I sat in that little prison for years until you came along, Boss.”