Black Sheep Wall

Sometime between Mission 12 and Mission 13

The air was bitterly cold and reflected Naru's mood well. The Order's most senior mortal associate sat on the roof of the building that housed her laboratory, her elbows resting on her knees; a lit cigarette dangled carelessly between two fingers. Even she could only work so long and had finally decided to take a break. She could hear Mesa's sanxian being strummed in the distance, the only sound penetrating the otherwise silent night. It was late, or perhaps early, even for the Grass-Spiders.

The frigid air stung her cheeks, though she welcomed the distraction. Without Opal, Naru had far too much time in her own head. She was constantly contemplating unrequited love, trying to come to terms with the fact that she'd never Exalt, trying to cope with the idea that she'd die centuries before Opal did, and that someday, 200 years down the road, she'd be a distant regret in Opal's memory. She was bitter; she was so bitter. She was so pathetic. Staring into the dark night, she wished tears would come, but they didn't. She never cried anymore. Evidently, she had no tears left to shed. She took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled, watching the smoke rise in front of her face. Part of her couldn't wait for the hand-rolled paper to be smoked away so she could get back to work, but part of her dreaded the very same. Ever since breaking up with Opal, she'd completely thrown herself into her work; research and her friendship with Ravenous Moon, Waning Heart were her only distractions from the mess in her head. She divided her research between several areas, including astrology, First Age technology and engineering, and most recently, motonic physics, the physical nature of Essence. She was determined to uncover the secret of Exaltation despite knowing such a thing was futile. Perhaps, she thought to herself, she subconsciously wanted to discover to magical formula that would allow her to Exalt despite fate's cruel intentions. Her attitude towards the work swung between fascination and desperation. She so badly wanted to Exalt and resented her lot in life, despite the impressive amount of work she'd done to improve it. Surrounded by Creation's most accomplished, and Exalted, assassins, it was easy to forget that among mortals, she was truly extraordinary. But even the richest man in Great Forks could feel poor in Nexus. Most of the time, although she couldn't help herself from continuing her investigations, the work deepened her resentment, especially as of late. That's why she was secretly appreciative when Iron Shatters Oak startled her.

A huge, calloused hand grasped the edge of the roof on which Naru sat. Iron Shatters Oak quickly pulled himself up, his hulking form somehow graceful as he vaulted onto the rooftop. Naru, still in the mood to wallow, greeted him with cynicism.

"Opal send you to cheer me up?"

Oak lit a match as Naru spoke. He seemed slightly annoyed as he shook his head, puffing on a half-smoked cigar to re-light it. After getting a full drag, he blew a puff of thick smoke from his nostrils and replied.

"No, I don't take orders from Opal. And unlike Opal, I don't think you're a fucking charity case. I just need your help."

Naru couldn't suppress a smile. She was a little mad at herself for needing to needed, but whether he meant to or not, Oak knew exactly how to elevate her spirits. She flicked her cigarette off the edge of the roof and pushed off of her knees with her arms, standing quickly. She apologized to Oak.

"Sorry about that. Been a rough night."

Oak shrugged and took another drag of his cigar.

"Not my business. You done sulking, though? That shit's not allowed in my workshop. We make shit and we fix shit. We don't talk about feelings. Got it?"

Naru's smile grew wider; she suppressed a giggle to try to preserve some air of professionalism, but the elder Grass-Spider had managed to turn her mood around completely. The pair jumped off of the two-story roof, each of them landing flawlessly. As they began walking towards the workshop, Naru broke the comfortable silence.

"So what's going on?"

Oak replied, "Gods, I've been up all fucking night. Zealot's raising hell and we've been looking at this thing for hours."

Naru furrowed her brow.

"What happened?"

"Zealot's very upset. His belt is broken."

---

Only a few torches burned this late in the night; they provided meager light in Oak's infamous workshop, nestled in a half-underground structure just east of the central manse. Three people stood in the dark, smoky workshop, where Naru's small stature was exaggerated by Zealot's height and Oak's girth. She ducked between the two Grass-Spiders as she snapped her Essence goggles on, peering down at a workbench upon which was laid Zealot's infamous Amulet of Shadow Walking. Oak had managed to pry the front off with tools forged from solid Jade, exposing a network of complex circuitry, ancient runes, and, more recently, a glaring gash.

"Well there's your problem, Zealot," Naru said sarcastically.

Zealot sighed.

"I see that," he said. "What I want is to know how to fix this thing."

Naru didn't reply, continuing to remark on the Amulet's innards as viewed through her Essence goggles.

"That gash is glowing green..."

"That's because it was made by Malfean iron," Oak interjected.

Naru nodded and continued her vocal observations, "I dunno... This looks kinda... evil..."

Zealot maintained his air of sarcasm as he replied, "Well, yeah, it was Malfean iron. It's from hell. Of course it's evil."

Naru shook her head and stood up straight, removing the Essence goggles and letting them rest on top of her head. "That's not what I mean," she said. "I mean the whole thing. Those runes, that circuitry, it almost looks like necromancy or something."

Oak, who'd been busy lighting up another cigar, asked Naru, "So you don't think it's Lookshyan?" He'd originally called upon Naru to verify that the technology didn't come from anything mundane (such as Lookshy, insofar as First Age artifacts were mundane there) before delving into more complicated explanations. Naru confirmed Oak's suspicions.

Naru replied, "No, definitely not. I can spot Seventh-Legion tech from a mile away. This comes from some place far stranger..."

Cigar dangling between his cracked lips, Oak, traced some of the circuitry lightly with his finger, idly wondering aloud, "Zealot, how did you get this thing, anyway?"

((You're up, Bizzy!))