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The Chronicle of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance *Updated May 17th, 2009*
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<blockquote data-quote="Rolzup" data-source="post: 2822988" data-attributes="member: 10105"><p><strong>Mallus, Aforethought</strong></p><p></p><p>The inexplicably detailed instructions on the back of the business card, which Burne swore was blank when Erebus handed it over reads: Café Limbo, 101 South Spider St., Saltbend, Eris:CITY. Table in the NW corner. 8:05 PM, Eris Standard Time...</p><p></p><p>As his eyes scan the card for the hundredth time, Burne realizes three things; the timekeeper in F----d-Clock Tower has just (manually) wrung eight bells, the café is just ahead across the broad plaza, which given the nightly crowd, is about a five minute walk... no, exactly a five minute walk.</p><p></p><p>He reflects that Saltbend, named so because the once-salinated Grand Canal runs along the south end of Limbo Plaza, spilling from and later into a set of permanent Gates which let it flow along in its looping way through every city of CITY, isn't for the poor. Unless they're begging for capital at the Great Temple of Mr. Spidergod. Foolish rabble....</p><p></p><p>"Mr. Spidergod helps those who help Him first," the old proverb goes. Saltbend isn't for soldiers, either. It's for the dandies, dilettantes, the idle rich and artists, who while themselves poor, frequently excel at fleecing the idle rich out of a night's entertainment.</p><p></p><p>The Café Limbo is crowded, and smoky with several species of intermingled smokes. Burne inhale deeply, out of alchemic curiosity, then promptly forgets why and instead listens to the roar of tigers and the tinkling of giant, distant chimes.... People better dressed than he jostle past, bringing him to his senses.</p><p></p><p>The lone man seated at the corner table is richly, yet sloppily dressed, about 25. He has a mass of oiled black hair in ringlets, no beard nor visible scars. Even seated you can see the hilt of his Erisian bastard sword, and a canvas-covered shield leaning against a table leg. He's drinking -- coffee from the scent of it -- and reading from a large, garishly colored book, which he puts down at Burne's approach.</p><p></p><p>The book is "At Long Last Lost Love", by Arabia Wainwright. For some reason that coincidence puts a chill up his spine.</p><p></p><p>"Hello...Legionaire?. I'm Mallus Lovesworn. Do you realize you smell of sulphur?" He waves for a server and continues. "Pull up a chair. The Doctor, as they say, is in."</p><p></p><p>At that, Burne notices the small, black surgeon's bag on the ground, partially hidden by the shield.</p><p></p><p>And that this Mallus is clearly high....</p><p></p><p>Burne raises an eyebrow. "Sulfur is the sweetest of perfumes, I've found. There's not many who can appreciate its unique bouquet, but those of who do realize how sublime it can be."</p><p></p><p>Seating himself, the alchemist continues. "I shall cut to the quick, if I may. Time is short, and I am a man who knows the value of plain speaking. I know of two lovers, separated by time, space, and an ocean. I would reunite them. Can you be of assistance in this endeavor?"</p><p></p><p>"You want to be reunited with your two lovers? Now that's a first...Old Gusset will wet himself when I tell him. Wait, I'll tell everyone but him, that'll get the old queen's goat, assuming he doesn't already have a goat, trussed up somewhere...probably dressed in lace if I know him...."</p><p></p><p>Mallus stops and collects his thoughts, such as they are. He reached down for his bag.</p><p></p><p>"That's wasn't what you meant, was it?" He pauses again, pulls a small paper packet from the depths of his satchel.</p><p></p><p>Opening the paper packet, he continues, "I'll need one of the lovers. Preferably the closer of the two. I need to know the true love in their heart. Acts like a f-----g lighthouse beacon, it does."</p><p></p><p>Burne recognizes the contents of packet, a crystalline derivative of the flower Hypnogegium Momomanus. Commonly callled "Singlemind".</p><p></p><p>With a small snort, Mallus's attention is back on Burne. Burningly, in fact.</p><p></p><p>"Neither interested party is here. So there's some...difficulty involved. This could be interesting. Tell me the whole story. Wait, just tell me where the nearer one is.</p><p></p><p>"As you have probably surmised, I've been a little bored."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rolzup, post: 2822988, member: 10105"] [b]Mallus, Aforethought[/b] The inexplicably detailed instructions on the back of the business card, which Burne swore was blank when Erebus handed it over reads: Café Limbo, 101 South Spider St., Saltbend, Eris:CITY. Table in the NW corner. 8:05 PM, Eris Standard Time... As his eyes scan the card for the hundredth time, Burne realizes three things; the timekeeper in F----d-Clock Tower has just (manually) wrung eight bells, the café is just ahead across the broad plaza, which given the nightly crowd, is about a five minute walk... no, exactly a five minute walk. He reflects that Saltbend, named so because the once-salinated Grand Canal runs along the south end of Limbo Plaza, spilling from and later into a set of permanent Gates which let it flow along in its looping way through every city of CITY, isn't for the poor. Unless they're begging for capital at the Great Temple of Mr. Spidergod. Foolish rabble.... "Mr. Spidergod helps those who help Him first," the old proverb goes. Saltbend isn't for soldiers, either. It's for the dandies, dilettantes, the idle rich and artists, who while themselves poor, frequently excel at fleecing the idle rich out of a night's entertainment. The Café Limbo is crowded, and smoky with several species of intermingled smokes. Burne inhale deeply, out of alchemic curiosity, then promptly forgets why and instead listens to the roar of tigers and the tinkling of giant, distant chimes.... People better dressed than he jostle past, bringing him to his senses. The lone man seated at the corner table is richly, yet sloppily dressed, about 25. He has a mass of oiled black hair in ringlets, no beard nor visible scars. Even seated you can see the hilt of his Erisian bastard sword, and a canvas-covered shield leaning against a table leg. He's drinking -- coffee from the scent of it -- and reading from a large, garishly colored book, which he puts down at Burne's approach. The book is "At Long Last Lost Love", by Arabia Wainwright. For some reason that coincidence puts a chill up his spine. "Hello...Legionaire?. I'm Mallus Lovesworn. Do you realize you smell of sulphur?" He waves for a server and continues. "Pull up a chair. The Doctor, as they say, is in." At that, Burne notices the small, black surgeon's bag on the ground, partially hidden by the shield. And that this Mallus is clearly high.... Burne raises an eyebrow. "Sulfur is the sweetest of perfumes, I've found. There's not many who can appreciate its unique bouquet, but those of who do realize how sublime it can be." Seating himself, the alchemist continues. "I shall cut to the quick, if I may. Time is short, and I am a man who knows the value of plain speaking. I know of two lovers, separated by time, space, and an ocean. I would reunite them. Can you be of assistance in this endeavor?" "You want to be reunited with your two lovers? Now that's a first...Old Gusset will wet himself when I tell him. Wait, I'll tell everyone but him, that'll get the old queen's goat, assuming he doesn't already have a goat, trussed up somewhere...probably dressed in lace if I know him...." Mallus stops and collects his thoughts, such as they are. He reached down for his bag. "That's wasn't what you meant, was it?" He pauses again, pulls a small paper packet from the depths of his satchel. Opening the paper packet, he continues, "I'll need one of the lovers. Preferably the closer of the two. I need to know the true love in their heart. Acts like a f-----g lighthouse beacon, it does." Burne recognizes the contents of packet, a crystalline derivative of the flower Hypnogegium Momomanus. Commonly callled "Singlemind". With a small snort, Mallus's attention is back on Burne. Burningly, in fact. "Neither interested party is here. So there's some...difficulty involved. This could be interesting. Tell me the whole story. Wait, just tell me where the nearer one is. "As you have probably surmised, I've been a little bored." [/QUOTE]
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The Chronicle of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance *Updated May 17th, 2009*
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