The secret job

[T@rget]

Altor started out for another town.  He did not know which one he was gong to because the one that hired him liked her secrets.  That?s okay Altor is used to keeping some himself.  All he knew was some rich women need some stonework done.  He was not the best stonemason, he preferred to invent things more then working with stone.  Still he was one that would put up with the security measures that has been imposed.

The previous night he packed every thing that he thought he would need; extra clothes, picks, shovels, hammers, chisels and even a small portable forge of his own design.  Wrapping his multi-pocketed cloak around himself, this is something he never leaves with out.  A friend lent him a mule so that he could take the large trunk packed with his stuff to the pick up site.

The rundown tavern is outside the city he has taken up residence in.  It lay on the road to the capital, Bloodmoor.  Sure he was early but he needed the money so he was not going to miss out just because he was late.  He stabled the mule and went to get a pint.  The time passed very slowly.  The bartender kept eying Altor because he kept nursing the same drink.  As time passed Altor thought it a good idea to order some expensive food and more ale.

Finally the one contacted him showed up.  Altor looked in his money purse.  He tossed the remainder of his money to the bartender; he did not need it now.  This made him happy.  He started to drag his heavy trunk to the wagon.

"That won't be necessary.  Every thing will be provided."
?But, but I have all my?
?You won?t need it.  I will arrange for you possessions to be taken back to you domicile.?

Altor stared at the dramen.  Just like dragons, dramen are just as inscrutable.  But this time Altor did not push it.  The armed guards that flanked the dramen were enough to convince him that all the stuff that he need was going back to the flat where he lived.

?There is a mule stabled here.  Could you take that back as well?  It belongs to Damien Hytho?
The dramen nodded and said, ?That will be taken care of as well.?

The dramen hands one of the guard what Altor thought is his pay. ?He?ll piss it off, I hope he has enough left to get the mule out of the stable,? thought Altor.  The dramen lead him around to the back of the wagon.  Altor has more of an eye for stonework but he could tell that it is stoutly built.

?Oh come on!?
?The mistress values her privacy.  You could take your belongings and the mule back.?
?No, that?s fine.?  He said through gritted teeth.  He stepped in to the wagon.  The door closed and what sounded like a very large lock click home.

[T@rget]

   It was a nearly a half day, by Altor?s reckoning, when he the wagon stopped.  He could hear muffled voices.  Straining to make out any of the words, Altor places his ear to the side of wagon.  After a while he realized that the one that made this wagon built it to resist just this.  More voices.  Then the lock clicked and then the door opened.  It?s hard to tell but Altor felt that his internal clock was right.

   ?This one will be your roommate for a while,? said the dramen.

   A pale human stepped up in to the wagon.  The bright day blinded Altor.  He would have used the time to examine the wagon interior but the dramen did not give him enough time.  Its one thing to map out the cabin in your head but is yet another to see it.  The human crawled to one of the four bunks.  Altor being a dwarf, albeit a strange dwarf, is used to the total absence of light.  He knew from his dealings with humans that they don?t handle it that well.

   ?Walther Kohnin.?
   ?Altor Bandrog.?
   ?You mind if I take a nap?  It took a day and half of hard riding to make this meeting.?

   This new travel mate fell asleep right away.  Again with nothing much to do Altor begun going over his new inventions, it was good thing that the guards did not take his cloak.  It did not have every thing he needed but he made do.  He tightened the spring.  Then he set it down and backed off.  Seconds pass, nothing happens, and then it sprang straight up.  His invention ricocheted of the ceiling at an odd angle.  It hit the wall then bounced off the floor and then it hit the wall again.

   A thick wooden slat slid back, ?What the hell are you doing??
   Altor replied, ?Nothing.  I just fell out of bed.?
   ?Right,? the guard said sounded thoroughly unconvinced but the slat slid back into place.

   Altor could tell by the light that came through that little window that the day has progress to twilight.  The racket did not disturb Walther, he just snorted.  Finally after a little while the wagon stopped.  The slat opened up and some food dropped in.  It was an entire day since Altor had any thing to eat.  He wolfed down the large piece of cooked meat.  Walther woke up long enough to eat.

[T@rget]

   With nothing else to do he followed Walther lead.  The bunk was made out of wood and not much in the way of padding.  It took a while for Altor to actually fall a sleep.  He has been living mostly in human settlements and as such he has become used to human style bedding which is softer then dwarf bedding.  The next day came and the wagon still rolled back and forth.

   ?So,? asked Altor, ?Have you heard anything about who we are working for??
   ?No.?
   ?Are you a stonemason?  That?s what I was hired for.  I don?t really work stone that much.?
   ?No.
   ?So what to you do??
   ?Jeweler.?
   ?Oh, is that so.  My uncle is a very respected jeweler; he has a shop in Bloodmoor.  Have you heard of Cliseefis??
   ?No?
   ?Where do you hail from??
   ?Zrhren.?

   Altor realize that any more attempts at small talk was pointless.  He went back to frog leaper, adjusting it so that it will spring up and forward.  Now all he needs to find a way to get the claw to clamp down fast enough so that it will hold on.  One thing he wanted to do was test it with a rope.  He wanted to see if the frog leaper would be able to leap with a four stories fastened to it.  If he could get the problems worked this thing will save many lives.

   Many hours pass; dull hours that he tried to fill with his inventions but with out being able to properly test them he gave this up as well.  He dozed off for a bit then tried to find some interest in his gadgets but again lack of all the parts to finish one and proper testing made it very annoying.  Its times like this Altor wished he put his flute in his cloak.

   The one good thing was the toilet.  It had a fascinating catch mechanism.  The waste would only be dropped when the lid was down.  He set about dismantling it.  With the catch disabled the trap door that held back the waste would stay open.  That way he could tell if is it was day or night, though not what time of day.

   The wagon only stopped when it was twilight.  The slat opened and two hunks of meat dropped in.
   ?Do you have any fruit?? asked Altor.  The only response was the slat sliding back in to place.

[T@rget]

   Another boring day passes and it?s made even more boring travel mate.  At night the slat opened, the usual cooked meat dropped down as well as a water skin.  In the middle of the next day the wagon stopped.  The door opened and a third person got it, another human.

   ?Hello.  My name is Altor.?

   The new person made no response.  Altor tried again to engage the newcomer in conversation but this human was even more closed lipped the Walther.  Days passed with no end in sight and the boredom threatened to overwhelm Altor and his travel mates.  Altor got the idea that the driver of the wagon is taking a circuitous route to the destination.

   Finally the wagon stopped, not at the usual end of the day but mid-day.  If front of the wagon there arose a shout.  No one could tell what was being said.  It sat there for about three minutes then it moved with a small jolt.  It stopped a minute later and stood still for another three minutes.  Again the wagon moved but this time when it stopped again the door was opened.

   The same dramen he meet at the fleabag inn spoke up as they each stepped out, ?Your living quarters have been prepared.  The mistress is not here right now so each of you will wait in your reserved spaces.  You will not be allowed to wander.  Every thing you need, with in reason, will be provided to you.  Ask the guard on the right hand side of your door.?

   Each man went where he was directed.  Each door had two huge guards on either side.  Altor?s apartment is lushly appointed.  Thick, shaggy, carpeting covers the entire floor.  There is a writing desk with a matching chair, each made by a master craftsman.  Huge tapestries befitting a rich dwarf hung from each wall.  He checked behind one only to find solid stone.  He considered looking behind others but realized that would be pointless.  The bed dominated the room.  If dragons actual used feather beds this one would fit a fully-grown dragon.  Still as large as the bed is he still had plenty of room to entertain a small party.

   In back was door that lead to a bathroom.  A trench was dug underneath the apartment.  The trench was paved over and holes were cut in the paving stones.  These holes were for the toilet and the drain of the washing tub.  Each hole was cut only large enough for water to drain.  Metal bars blocked the hole making it hard for any thing larger then a starved mouse to make it through.  A strong smell of raw sewage rose from each drain.

   He wandered back to the living space.  It at this time Altor noticed the wardrobe in the corner.  He opened it.  It contained all the clothes a dwarf could use.  On the left was clothing that would be appropriate for any kings court.  As he looked right they became more and more simple until they finally ended with hearty leather apron used in smithy.

   He opened the door; one of the large guards blocked his way.
   ?I was just going to get some water, you know to get cleaned up.?
   The guard just stared impassively.
   ?So?? he said but broke off under that baleful glare.
   The guard on the right spoke up, ?There is a spigot near the wood stove.?
   ?Oh really?  How is the water fed to that spigot?  Where does it come from?
   ?A cistern on the roof.?
   ?How does the water get up there??

   The look told him everything he needed to know.  He turned away grumbling to himself about how hard it is to live with such ignorant cretins.  Right beside the wood stove was the spigot.  It was nothing but a pipe with a plug stopper.  A bucket stood by presumably to place on the stove to heat the water for the washing tub.

   The water is cold and bracing.  He cleaned him self not bothering to heat water for the tub.  He then disrobed and crawled in to the bed.  Its not what his is used to, it is hard, its made for a typical dwarf.

[T@rget]

   When Altor woke up the next day it was cold, he did not think to add wood to the stove.  He dressed picking simple workman?s clothing.  The clothes he owned stunk from days of constant use.  He decided to wash them so he went to the spigot for a bucket of water.  With water in the bucket he turned his attention to the stove.  As it turns out he did not need the striker bar to light the stove, everything was in a handy kit under the potbelly.

   Then he noticed how hungry he was.  He went to the door but remembered his last attempt to leave.  Sure enough there were two large guards on the left and the right. Both were human.
   ?Excuse me,? he asked one of them, ?I was wondering if you could send for food?  I am very hungry.?

   The guard ignored him.  The he realized that he was talking to the left guard.  He asked the other one for some food, to which the reply was that Altor woke up to early and would have to wait two hours till breakfast.  When asked about soap to clean his clothes the reply was to place all dirty clothes in the basket at the bottom of the wardrobe and place it out side.

   This worried Altor because if the would not let him take his trunk then what would the do to is lovely cloak of many pockets.  Worse yet what would they do about all his gadgets?  He begins searching for a hiding place.  This is very hard indeed because the entire room is mad with rock.  There are no loose floorboards, no molding to remove material behind.  It would be stupid to think that he could get away with hiding it under the bed or in the wardrobe.

   His hopes sink when he finds no dust anywhere.  But just as he is considers turning in his contraband he notice that the washing tub is not solid.  The stone is just facing.  So the tubs curve provides him with ample secret storage.  For now he places the cloak under his bed.  He reminds himself not to lie on it.  Many phials and flasks would not react well to being crushed.

   The dramen that hired him came a short time after.
   ?The mistress will be arriving some time after lunch.  Please make sure to wear you look sharp.  She hates unkempt people.  Also make sure you wear the livery.  I will go through the rules now.?

   ?You will not approach.  You will not speak, except with the greeting ?Heie Mistress.?  You will not pass the walls until you have completed you work or you are dismissed.  If you do, you will be hunted down and brought back here for punishment.  The mistress pays generously and expects a certain amount of anonymity for that amount.  When you leave you will not try to find this place again.  If you do you will be killed.?

   With that he leaves.  Breakfast comes about half hour later.
   Altor considers the problem.  Yes he could pry of one of the stones so that he could fit his stash in the hole but to do it right he has to have tools.
   Addressing the guard at the right had side, he says, ?Please bring me these tools. And also sharpening stones with oil.  And if you have it a grinding wheel.?

   The guard just looks at the list.  Altor explains why he needs them.  Nothing happens.  He tries every thing he could think of but the guard does not move.  He knows that he has to take this up with that dramen.  Since he is know where around and the guards do not want to cooperate he must wait.  Fine, he is a dwarf after all.

   When lunch approaches Altor decides to get dressed.  There is no looking glass in his room but he does have a small shiny plate in is cloak.  With it and much patience Altor dresses flawlessly.  He forgoes food at lunch, not wanting to ruin his hard work.  The dramen shows up with the other two that have been hired in tow.  Dramen are hard to read but he could tell that the dramen is very nervous.  It takes a minute to understand why.

   The other two are presentable.  And its just that, presentable.  He could tell that they did not have the benefit of a looking glass.  The errors were small but if you noticed them they are glaring.

   ?Its your own fault.  If you had just supplied us with a looking glass??

   Either the dramen did not hear or chose not to acknowledge.  From then until they entered the receiving chamber of his mistress, the dramen was very short with every one.  The room was spacious but it was divided by a gauzy screen that reach from wall to wall and from ceiling to floor.  The room was oriented so that the evening sun will come in from behind the screen.  Five steps rose from the floor with the screen on the level with the final step.  Three guards on the left stood rigidly at attention; two stood in the same staunch pose on the right.

   She was not there when the group walked into the greeting room.  In fact she did not show up for three hours later.

   Suddenly the light cut off then it was back.  When the light came back it cast a silhouette of a shapely women.  Judging by the size and shape Altor guessed she was an elf.  He also realized just how paranoid she is.  The trick with stopping the light was so that no one would know what side of the room she entered from.

   ?Thank you all,? yep defiantly elven, ?for graciously accepting my humble hospitality.  And again I thank you doing work most necessary.?
Her words were warm and inviting but her tone carried none.  It was a script being read: she was talking to inferiors: her voice was hard, lacking any musical tone of the elves.  But she was an elf nonetheless.

   The screen went black the lit up again.  She was gone.

[T@rget]

   The dramen that?s in charge stepped down but the guards stayed where they were.  He led the hired help out of the meeting room.

   Altor caught up to him and asked, ?By the way what is your name?  It is kinda awkward; I don?t know what to call you if I need some thing.?
   The dramen just ignored him.
   ?Well how about I call you, Supe?  You know short for supervisor.  Could you do me a favor??
   The dramen kept walking.

   ?Could you have this list,? he held out his list of tools.
   ?Your tools will be at the work site.?
   ?Well that?s fine but will I have access to workshop during any time of the day or night?  Working with stone is not very forgiving.  Even steel tools go dull and break.  Do you think your mistress wants substandard work because of faulty tools??

   Supe considered this and replied, ?Okay I will have the list brought to your apartment.?

   Back in his apartment Altor checks under his bed.  Sure enough the bed was dressed.  His heart clenched.  Most every one would consider junk Altor spent many years coming up with.  He lifted the mattress.  The cloak was still there and it seemed that only some phials broke.

   ?That?s an interesting reaction.?

   The ones that broke mixed to make a thick flexible mass.  He tried to pick up the cloak but the mixture gummed it to the bottom of the bed.  He had to pull hard pull it up it tore.  But it did bring up a corner of the spill.  With much effort he pried it up.  He set to empting the cloak.  Every thing he pulled out he placed in the bottom of the wardrobe.  It took a couple hours to free his cloak form the spill.

   The spill congealed in to a large mass: it is flexible: it is thick.  A knock on the door startled him.  He quickly hid it in the bottom of the wardrobe.

   ?Come in.?

   A guard came in with a box of tools.  Another two came in carrying a grinding wheel.  Three more boxes were brought in.

   ?Oh yes, thank you.  Would you please thank Supe, er uhm, thank that dramen for me.?

   When they left he set about to dismantle the boxes.  Each pieces the then put together in to a shelf.  But it became apparent that he would not have enough space for his tools he went to the door.
   ?Could you send up some shelving material??
   All he got back was blank stairs from both guards.
   ?Okay, okay.  Could you ask that dramen to come here when he has time??

[T@rget]

   Altor took the time that he was waiting for Supe to respond to him by working on the stone on the side of the washing tub.  Just as he thought all the stonework around the tub is just a fa?ade.  He picked a place that was the most inconspicuous.  After he stowed all the stuff that he thought would be confiscated, he cleaned up and readied for bed.  He was satisfied that it would take a stonemason to spot his work.

   The next day started early.  The other two that was picked up were working and it seemed that each was a Jeweler of some sorts.  Altor is the lead of crew of masons.  Most of them can understand what they need to do but he has to keep a close watch on them.  One started using a detailing tool for rough work and in the process completely ruined it.

   The stone was mostly used in fortifications.  Some was used in making sculptures.  He was grateful that each was going on top of the buildings and could not be closely inspected.

   Months later the job was finished.  The others that were picked up with Altor finished long before Altor and his crew did.  Two workers tried to leave and those were all that tried.  It took five days for those men to recover from the ?fair punishment? that was wrought upon their backs.

   He was dropped off at the same inn that he was picked up at with a bulging bag of gold.  Supe was smart enough to put it in a traveling trunk.  The inn, being on the road to the capital, attracted may shady patrons.

[T@rget]

   With the stonemason job at an end Altor?s ideas travel in to the future, he could see what was to be done with his new but small fortune.  He needed to set up a laboratory.  It needed to be away from a major city but still along a trade route.

   Good maps are hard to come by but he has a few.  He packed all his gold in a trunk with a clever false bottom.  On top of the he packed his clothes.  This inn that he was staying at gave him the creeps, he kept expecting to feel a thin blade puncturing his spine.  From the innkeeper he bought a sturdy donkey.

   With map in hand he set out for Grila.

[T@rget]

   When he arrived at Grila Altor took his time in selecting his new home.  He had a long list of things that he wanted.  In the end he settled on an old mansion that has not been lived in for 25 years.  What sold him on it was that it had a cave underneath the grounds.

   In fact it was an attempt at a wine cellar.  The human, Jynus, that sold him the property, told him of the hardships of his family.  The poor wretch?s father, Alb, thought it a good idea to try raising grape for wine on the grounds.  Alb would not listen to advice and charged ahead with his master plan.  He carved out a network of tunnels which he planned to turn into wine cellar.  At the same time he acquired a large amount of grape cuttings.  He reasoned that it would take longer if he planted seeds.

   The first crop did not take root so he tried again.  After a series of floods, wars and other mishaps the grapes finally took root.  It took three years for fruit to start coming in.  But disaster struck in the form of a killer blight.  After 13 years of trying to make wine that was the final blow.

   Jynus inherited an enormous amount of debt and a worthless property.  Bad luck for him but a good turn for Altor, he was able to purchase every thing for 43 times less then what was originally paid.

   With the savings he was able to buy a small lot in Grila proper.  The he would use for receiving and messages that are dispatched to him.  That way he can keep his laboratory secret.  Well as secret as possible as you can in the Black Dragon Empire.  Spying and informing is a way of life there.

   When he set up some semblance of a workshop in the cave he turned his mind to the piece that he has been commissioned for.  Still the dragon?s words itched in the back of his head.

   ?In all your studies have you heard tell of an amulet with five settings?  I know it is very old.?

[T@rget]

   It took some time for Altor to get his laboratory set up just as he wants it.  The greatest amount of time was eaten away by the fact that he had to receive all his equipment at the small house that he has set up on the outskirts of Grila.

   When that was done he sent a  message to the dragon?s nephew because he had no idea how to contact the actual dragon.