Preparations

[Thom]

The torchlight flickered casting shadows over the still form of a man in the center of the room. Etched deeply into his bare chest were a series of lines forming a mark that hadn't been seen in some time. Blood ran freely down his chest, pooling under the chair he was tied to. A lone figure stood in front of the chair studying the mark. If there was one mistake in the carving all would be lost. Satisfied with the work she turned and took a vial of specially prepared ink from the shelf. Bending low over the man's chest she began to trace the mark with the ink while chanting, watching as it was absorbed slowly into the lines. She continued until the entire vial was emptied and then stood. Where once open cuts had been was now smooth skin, the lines of the mark now boldly marked in black. One last thing needed to be done before she could have complete control of the man's actions. Removing the ceremonial knife from the shelf she cut across the palm of her left hand and smeared the blood across the mark while uttering a final incantation. A flash of light and all was done.

 

[Thom]

Jason stumbled through the Trinsic gate carrying the crate on his shoulder. Not for the first time he cursed the fact he never learned any kind of magical travel. The more rational, and perhaps sober, part of his mind would helpfully remind him that you didn't need magical travel to make it the few places he bothered to go in town. The sound of clinking glass came from the crate on his shoulder and he licked his lips, not for the first time wishing she hadn't remembered to tell him not to drink any of the delivery. With a sigh he continued on his way, hoping that someone would at least be at the tavern to accept it.