Snippet #2497265

Isidore woke up bright and early, still intoxicated from the night before. "That's one way to skip the hangover," she muttered, and pulled a small vial out of the small pouch near her bed. Scowling at it, she drank it down in one gulp and winced. It tasted foul but it was the best way to get rid of any traces of alcohol in her system. Her morning routine was shortened by the upcoming appointment, but it was no less thorough. She was a sorceress, after all, and she had a reputation to uphold.

A black corseted top with half-sleeves, paired with black leather pants and high-heeled black boots, along with a red cape and a few essential pieces of jewelry were enough for a business proposition. Her rings and earrings in particular had a few spells on them that could give her an edge in a fight, defensively or otherwise, so she wore them every day. Everything else she owned in the rented room was in her small pouch, which saved her a lot of time when traveling. The pouch could hold many things, and much bigger things than it appeared it could, but that was all part of its spell. Her horse was in the stables, and off she went.

The appointment was of course in the good part of the city, where are the nobles lived. A grand mansion surrounded by elaborately trimmed shrubbery and its roof studded with grotesques, as was the current fashion. The gables and towers gave it the look of a small castle, and the large black iron gate in front of it would have done any castle justice. All it needed was a moat, she thought as she rode up to the gate and was let inside. After handing her horse off to a respectable looking groom, she followed the butler inside a grand hallway. As many nobles did, there were paintings of ancestors along the walls, some of which in this house looked a bit disreputable. Candles were lit everywhere, and servants scuttled quietly from room to room.

Isidore was led to the end of one hallway and ushered inside a large library, at the back of which in a place of prominence was a large chair and an equally impressive fireplace. A man stood in front of it, holding a snifter of brandy. He was slight, his back slightly bowed with age, with gray hair and expensive clothing that he wore like a costume that didn't fit. "Mistress Blackwood," the butler announced, and left them to their business.

His face, she saw as he turned around, was hawklike and stern-eyed, wrinkles caverns in a ghostly pale visage. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said and offered his hand to her. "I am Lord Ackryn, and I believe I have a business proposition for you that you will find quite favorable. I am willing to pay," he continued, after taking a leisurely sip of his brandy, "quite well."

"I would need to know the details before I made any agreements, and I am always paid half up front for any commission. If the job is dangerous, my price is, of course, correspondingly higher." Isidore stood calmly, her hands at her sides. If any of these conditions troubled or surprised Lord Ackryn, she couldn't tell, but his next words solved that puzzle.

"Indeed. I did my research before asking you to meet me here, Mistress Blackwood, and your terms are acceptable to me. But before I begin explaining what this job is and what it requires, we must wait for an additional party. Would you like a brandy?"

"No, thank you."