xxxxxxx20th day of Winter, 514
Inoadar reached the shore and huffed his hundredth angry grunt. As he retrieved his horse, an impure Bloodbane he'd named "Handy", He muttered to himself about the current outrage. The Nitrozian-Moletta Sanitary Station had been broken into just a couple of days earlier, and for all the effort the Ebonstryfe investigators were going to, he might as well be conducting the search himself.
Naturally, his first inclination was to blame Clyde Sullins. The man was an Ebonstryfer himself, and no doubt had some pull with the men doing the actual work, not that they were doing a great deal OF it. The man was also the single most relentlessly intrusive and vindictive annoyance the poisoner had had to deal with since working things out with his previous nemesis, Norvis Barton, the smuggler.
But the more he thought about it, the more he began to think it might be the Nitrozians themselves. He'd started the NMSS with Valerius, a young aristocrat from that same family, and a woman who'd added the Moletta name. Inoadar had been perfectly content to leave his name out of the picture then. He'd been intent on reestablishing his 'Ino Vations' enterprise. Valerius had always been aloof in temperament. But both he and the Moletta woman had distanced themselves for some time and left Inoadar in charge.
Valerius had come back recently to step back into the role of administrator. And though Inoadar did not really care about the change of the guard, he thought it mighty presumptuous of the young fop to treat his role with such an air of entitlement. Inoadar had put as much money and effort into getting the NMSS up and running as any of the three. And while the Nitrozian socialite had been gone, Inoadar had still managed to get backing to set his new shop back up. But it had not been Nitrozian money that had enabled it. So Inoadar owed the fellow nothing.
He wondered now if the Nitrozians resented him going to the Valdinox faction instead of them. The timing was right. The attitude fit. The fact that it was mostly his gear at the facility that had been ruined or stolen followed the pattern as well. Naturally, he could never prove such a thing, and, Validnox backing or not, the Nitrozians were no one to trifle with.
The whole episode was infuriating to Inoadar. He could just imagine both the stuffy Nitrozian and the insufferable Sullins sitting at some richly decorated table, sipping wine and toasting their malicious conniving against their mutual target. 'If only I could have left them a little surprise in that bottle of wine, then we'd see who'd be laughing.' he sneered to himself as he crested a hill.
Another setback from the break-in was the necessity of recouping his stock of Kelvic blood. It was a major component of 'Wildleash' poison. This was a very lucrative compound with so many Kelvics enslaved in the Ravokian culture. It enabled easy capture of all members of the shape-shifting race.
Inoadar was not truly an advocate of slavery, feeling it only served to weaken the owner, as they became ever more dependent on slaves to do their work for them. But he was definitely an advocate of making mizas. And Wildleash was at the TOP of that list. He had a decent stock of the toxin in reserve at his own shop. But it was always a part of his seasonal regimen to go on an excursion or two to collect more of the blood. All he needed to do was find a Kelvic, hit him with a dart of the toxin, and wait for it to render the target unconscious. This would be followed by an inflicted docility that was nearly as good.
And there were always Kelvics about. Even as he crested the hill, he saw one. He'd been glad he'd spent some time with that hunter, Ghahinder Telemnar. The man had showed him the benefit of keeping upwind of your target, even if it necessitated a roundabout path of attack.
This Kelvic was a wolf. Inoadar saw no indication of a pack, or of any hurry on the part of this loner to meet up with one. And while this was not conclusive, it had given the poisoner reason to keep an eye on him. But it was the approach to the treeline, and the flash of light accompanying the shift back to human form that was the real giveaway. Inoadar made for the trees on horseback now, keeping the hills as cover.
He knew from past encounters with Kelvics that they'd have their human things stashed in some niche. Whoever this was, he was most likely going to spend some time gathering his things and getting dressed. Inoadar tied his horse to a tree, and slipped through the brush as he loaded his blowgun with Wildleash. He had his leather loop bracer on, with his usual complement of toxins as well.
He got closer to his target, and was just about to strike when it struck him that there was something familiar about this one. He slowed his approach, as he squinted, the blowgun prepped but no longer held at the ready. There was time, this guy was afoot. And now that he was dressed, he'd not be able to shift so quickly. Also, now that he was human, his senses would not be so sharp.
Inoadar crept patiently behind him, waiting for an opportunity to see his face, there was something familiar about his hair, that much he knew.
x
Inoadar
Inoadar reached the shore and huffed his hundredth angry grunt. As he retrieved his horse, an impure Bloodbane he'd named "Handy", He muttered to himself about the current outrage. The Nitrozian-Moletta Sanitary Station had been broken into just a couple of days earlier, and for all the effort the Ebonstryfe investigators were going to, he might as well be conducting the search himself.
Naturally, his first inclination was to blame Clyde Sullins. The man was an Ebonstryfer himself, and no doubt had some pull with the men doing the actual work, not that they were doing a great deal OF it. The man was also the single most relentlessly intrusive and vindictive annoyance the poisoner had had to deal with since working things out with his previous nemesis, Norvis Barton, the smuggler.
But the more he thought about it, the more he began to think it might be the Nitrozians themselves. He'd started the NMSS with Valerius, a young aristocrat from that same family, and a woman who'd added the Moletta name. Inoadar had been perfectly content to leave his name out of the picture then. He'd been intent on reestablishing his 'Ino Vations' enterprise. Valerius had always been aloof in temperament. But both he and the Moletta woman had distanced themselves for some time and left Inoadar in charge.
Valerius had come back recently to step back into the role of administrator. And though Inoadar did not really care about the change of the guard, he thought it mighty presumptuous of the young fop to treat his role with such an air of entitlement. Inoadar had put as much money and effort into getting the NMSS up and running as any of the three. And while the Nitrozian socialite had been gone, Inoadar had still managed to get backing to set his new shop back up. But it had not been Nitrozian money that had enabled it. So Inoadar owed the fellow nothing.
He wondered now if the Nitrozians resented him going to the Valdinox faction instead of them. The timing was right. The attitude fit. The fact that it was mostly his gear at the facility that had been ruined or stolen followed the pattern as well. Naturally, he could never prove such a thing, and, Validnox backing or not, the Nitrozians were no one to trifle with.
The whole episode was infuriating to Inoadar. He could just imagine both the stuffy Nitrozian and the insufferable Sullins sitting at some richly decorated table, sipping wine and toasting their malicious conniving against their mutual target. 'If only I could have left them a little surprise in that bottle of wine, then we'd see who'd be laughing.' he sneered to himself as he crested a hill.
Another setback from the break-in was the necessity of recouping his stock of Kelvic blood. It was a major component of 'Wildleash' poison. This was a very lucrative compound with so many Kelvics enslaved in the Ravokian culture. It enabled easy capture of all members of the shape-shifting race.
Inoadar was not truly an advocate of slavery, feeling it only served to weaken the owner, as they became ever more dependent on slaves to do their work for them. But he was definitely an advocate of making mizas. And Wildleash was at the TOP of that list. He had a decent stock of the toxin in reserve at his own shop. But it was always a part of his seasonal regimen to go on an excursion or two to collect more of the blood. All he needed to do was find a Kelvic, hit him with a dart of the toxin, and wait for it to render the target unconscious. This would be followed by an inflicted docility that was nearly as good.
And there were always Kelvics about. Even as he crested the hill, he saw one. He'd been glad he'd spent some time with that hunter, Ghahinder Telemnar. The man had showed him the benefit of keeping upwind of your target, even if it necessitated a roundabout path of attack.
This Kelvic was a wolf. Inoadar saw no indication of a pack, or of any hurry on the part of this loner to meet up with one. And while this was not conclusive, it had given the poisoner reason to keep an eye on him. But it was the approach to the treeline, and the flash of light accompanying the shift back to human form that was the real giveaway. Inoadar made for the trees on horseback now, keeping the hills as cover.
He knew from past encounters with Kelvics that they'd have their human things stashed in some niche. Whoever this was, he was most likely going to spend some time gathering his things and getting dressed. Inoadar tied his horse to a tree, and slipped through the brush as he loaded his blowgun with Wildleash. He had his leather loop bracer on, with his usual complement of toxins as well.
He got closer to his target, and was just about to strike when it struck him that there was something familiar about this one. He slowed his approach, as he squinted, the blowgun prepped but no longer held at the ready. There was time, this guy was afoot. And now that he was dressed, he'd not be able to shift so quickly. Also, now that he was human, his senses would not be so sharp.
Inoadar crept patiently behind him, waiting for an opportunity to see his face, there was something familiar about his hair, that much he knew.
x