Aodh Elzo's workshop, on Hollow Sreet. Past midnight, 46th Roalis. 2720
Aodh perched on a stool beside his old workbench, the top of which was covered with the map. He had taken the scraps from the various sewer jacks he knew, the galdori overseers only ever gave the crews maps of the sections they were tasked with checking or repairing.
It had been hard work, but it was done.
One section interested in particular, the section he had memorized. He had compared it with the map of Uptown he had in his head.
In his mind's eye he saw it, The Palace. Tall walls and strong gates and scores of scowling Seventen patrolling.
But perhaps when the very streets of Uptown are flooded with their own shit and corruption, then maybe the guards would be distracted enough?
He stood from the stool and rolled the maps into a canvas tube and stowed them under the back of his waistcoat.
Then in one swift movement he snatched up a knife from the work table and threw it across the workshop. It thudded into the wall, where he had drawn the outline of a man in a crown with chalk. The knife quivered where it stuck in the wall, right where the man's heart would be.
Firebrand walked to the wall, the wide mad wolf's grin on his lean face as he pulled the knife from the wall.
"Aye, I'll cott you yet vreska, ye chen?"
He slid the knife into the sheath in his boot, checked that the cut throat razor was in the pouch that hung on cord around his neck and his knuckle dusters, which sat in the hidden pocket of his waistcoat were in place.
He pulled on his old red brown duster coat and lit a cigarette as he left via a backdoor that gave out into the maze of night dark alleyways behind Hollow Street.
As he made his way to the dead drop he thought about what he planned.
He knew he would surely die in the attempt, but it would be such a blow that would rock the very foundations of galdori society.
It was a hell of a thing, and a hell of a chance to take, but a wick to kill a king.
Could it be done? Even with a distraction, it would still be damn hard to get past the Palace walls, if not impossible, but maybe there was a way.
It had been hard work, but it was done.
One section interested in particular, the section he had memorized. He had compared it with the map of Uptown he had in his head.
In his mind's eye he saw it, The Palace. Tall walls and strong gates and scores of scowling Seventen patrolling.
But perhaps when the very streets of Uptown are flooded with their own shit and corruption, then maybe the guards would be distracted enough?
He stood from the stool and rolled the maps into a canvas tube and stowed them under the back of his waistcoat.
Then in one swift movement he snatched up a knife from the work table and threw it across the workshop. It thudded into the wall, where he had drawn the outline of a man in a crown with chalk. The knife quivered where it stuck in the wall, right where the man's heart would be.
Firebrand walked to the wall, the wide mad wolf's grin on his lean face as he pulled the knife from the wall.
"Aye, I'll cott you yet vreska, ye chen?"
He slid the knife into the sheath in his boot, checked that the cut throat razor was in the pouch that hung on cord around his neck and his knuckle dusters, which sat in the hidden pocket of his waistcoat were in place.
He pulled on his old red brown duster coat and lit a cigarette as he left via a backdoor that gave out into the maze of night dark alleyways behind Hollow Street.
As he made his way to the dead drop he thought about what he planned.
He knew he would surely die in the attempt, but it would be such a blow that would rock the very foundations of galdori society.
It was a hell of a thing, and a hell of a chance to take, but a wick to kill a king.
Could it be done? Even with a distraction, it would still be damn hard to get past the Palace walls, if not impossible, but maybe there was a way.
