Rhy?din, WestEnd, 76 hours after operations began
His trip began on a morning strangely reminiscent of home. The skies were fit to burst with rain, and the people of the WestEnd knew it. They walked in ponchos or under umbrellas, while others couldn?t care less and simply waited for the downpour to begin. Aaron Shaw was one of these. He pushed through the crowds of the old temple district, butting shoulders with men, Elves, and everyone else under the sunless sky.
When he rode out, the storm had started, and yet all he did was to pull the frayed black hood of his jacket up over his head. It took less time than it should have for him to reach the Noirmont Gate, all the way up the North Road into the Barony, and on the way he thought back on the unlikely nature of this assignment and the importance of its success; more so how under any other conditions, there wouldn?t be as much of a chance of it. Now, though, he could do something about it. Things were in an uproar and he had just enough of an opening to actually consider taking the chance.
More than consider; he was taking it.
It was a big thunderstorm, the heavy clouds stretching across two worlds up to the base of the black mountain. The rain began to fall as soon as the Noirmont gate came into view, and one of Greyshott?s little trained monkeys was waiting for him in a poncho right there, like he?d won the lottery. ?Mister Shaw, we?re ready for you.? The look of satisfaction at a job well done was plastered across the scientists face. Shaw?s was almost the exact opposite. He hated this interdimensional crap and it showed, perhaps more in his voice than his face.
?You?re a smug li?le bastard, aren?che?? The techie frowned, and then gestured to the gate.
?Everything?s been done for an hour. The realignment and temporary addition was completed within the timeframe you hastily gave us, but there was minimal incident and everything is stabilized. You may step through when ready.? It took him a moment to glance up at the thing, large as it was, and blow out a low whistle.
?Chris?, kid. Took ye long ?nough.? When Shaw stepped through, he wished he hadn?t. Great big waste of resources, the thing was. Couldn?t get right where he wanted.
Something about nuclear interference or the like would probably be one of those little dirge rats? excuses. Regardless, when he emerged through the drop point he had a look just too bright to be natural on his face.
It had been a long time since he?d last set foot in France.
His trip began on a morning strangely reminiscent of home. The skies were fit to burst with rain, and the people of the WestEnd knew it. They walked in ponchos or under umbrellas, while others couldn?t care less and simply waited for the downpour to begin. Aaron Shaw was one of these. He pushed through the crowds of the old temple district, butting shoulders with men, Elves, and everyone else under the sunless sky.
When he rode out, the storm had started, and yet all he did was to pull the frayed black hood of his jacket up over his head. It took less time than it should have for him to reach the Noirmont Gate, all the way up the North Road into the Barony, and on the way he thought back on the unlikely nature of this assignment and the importance of its success; more so how under any other conditions, there wouldn?t be as much of a chance of it. Now, though, he could do something about it. Things were in an uproar and he had just enough of an opening to actually consider taking the chance.
More than consider; he was taking it.
It was a big thunderstorm, the heavy clouds stretching across two worlds up to the base of the black mountain. The rain began to fall as soon as the Noirmont gate came into view, and one of Greyshott?s little trained monkeys was waiting for him in a poncho right there, like he?d won the lottery. ?Mister Shaw, we?re ready for you.? The look of satisfaction at a job well done was plastered across the scientists face. Shaw?s was almost the exact opposite. He hated this interdimensional crap and it showed, perhaps more in his voice than his face.
?You?re a smug li?le bastard, aren?che?? The techie frowned, and then gestured to the gate.
?Everything?s been done for an hour. The realignment and temporary addition was completed within the timeframe you hastily gave us, but there was minimal incident and everything is stabilized. You may step through when ready.? It took him a moment to glance up at the thing, large as it was, and blow out a low whistle.
?Chris?, kid. Took ye long ?nough.? When Shaw stepped through, he wished he hadn?t. Great big waste of resources, the thing was. Couldn?t get right where he wanted.
Something about nuclear interference or the like would probably be one of those little dirge rats? excuses. Regardless, when he emerged through the drop point he had a look just too bright to be natural on his face.
It had been a long time since he?d last set foot in France.