Nathaniel 'Creepster Hermit' Porter (techmech) wrote in emillion,
Re: Ari/Drake/Nate
Sunday afternoon. It was one of the only times Nate could visit the forge, knowing that his Uncle would be at church.
He’d been beyond shocked when the messenger had turned up, holding a chest full to the brim with gil. He’d counted it twice, but the sum had remained the same - 2000 gil, enough for him to buy real magicite for Cian, enough to start Ari’s experiments without needing a deposit, enough to not worry about rent for months.
Enough for apprentice fees for Michael, weapons for Christa, new tools for Renly, and fabrics for Ma.
So here he was, breaking in to his old forge in broad daylight, like some kind of reverse thief. His uncle had changed the locks, but they were easy enough to pick, his body turned inwards so no one would see what he was doing.
The last pick slid into place, and he twisted the lock open with a click. Just as he began to push the door open, though, he heard a noise - the usual gentle slap of waves against the piers just one street over had changed, grown more violent, and people were screaming. He turned just in time to see a huge, pointed head appear briefly over the rooftops, roaring its defiance.
“Wha - again?!” Nate muttered, resisting the urge to hit something. He’d only just been healed from last time, and his ribs were still fragile. But if this monster wasn’t driven away before his family returned... well, Nate didn’t really want to think about that.
He didn’t have as much ammunition on him as he had when they’d gone after the zombies, but he’d taken to carrying at least one bandolier after that attack, so he wasn’t defenseless. Still, if he was going to defend the forge, the least Uncle could do would be spare him some bits and pieces.
Nate ducked inside the forge and dumped the bag of coins on his brother’s apprentice station, tucked behind some tools. The attached note read ‘Give this to Ma,’ and hopefully he would. Renly was a good kid. Now, to scavenge.
There was a handful of caltrops sitting out on Renly’s station - some of them looked poorly joined, or twisted, but they’d do well enough. They were Uncle’s favourite training project. Nate grabbed them all, dumping them into a leather pouch, and sprinkled the contents of a vial of sedative in after them for good measure. He’d need to avoid pricking himself, but the advantage would be worth it.
He cast his eye around. There! The big glass jar of etching fluid - strong enough acid to eat into metal, he doubted sea serpents would enjoy it either. He quickly filled and stoppered some glass vials, as many as were to hand, and wrapped the lot in one of the cleaning rags.
What else. Nothing jumped out at him as useful, so instead he filled a small sack with bits and pieces before tying everything to his belt. At this rate, he’d clank as he walked.
Enough time wasted. Nate didn’t have time to lock the door behind him, so he just wedged it closed as best he could and started towards the sounds of fighting. It was louder, now, as he turned the corner onto the open docks, with crates piled haphazardly all around. A huge toad almost as tall as him hopped towards Nate, and he pulled out a freeze grenade, only to watch as it kept right on hopping.
If this thing was nasty enough to make other monsters run away, Nate hoped he’d manage to get out of this one with limbs attacked...
But then, he saw some familiar figures, arguing by the smouldering remains of several sea creatures. “Ari!” he cried, and started towards her. “Didn’t know you knew Drake,” he said. The monk looked a little worse for wear.