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Clink!
Clink!
Clink!
The small hammer fell methodically, each blow resounding with a small echo. Poised to land once more, the fourth stroke fell ill as a heavy thud from a nearby door made the ground shudder.
Clank!
A colorful curse upon his lips, the Maia scrambled to save the delicate procedure, alas the wayward fall of the hammer could not be undone. Although unconscious, the body on the table began to violently spasm and jerk. Exasperated, Mairon stood back, eyeing the now crooked needle speared into the elf’s skull, just between the eyes.
“A rather curious reaction.” drawled a deep voice, thick with apparent apathy toward the elf’s seizing body. With a curt glance, the maia sighed. “My Lord.” came the greeting first, as he turned to offer a quick bow before gesturing at the needle. “It was not my end goal. The process is a delicate one.”
The responding laugh was gravelly and unnerving. “Was my arrival the cause of this?”
“It was.” Mairon replied bluntly. “But as it stands, the elf is now only a joke to you, and worthless to me.” the frustration was clear in his tone, as he snatched up the hammer once more and landing a final, killing blow to the elf before stepping back. “Is there a reason for your presence here?”
The dark vala scowled, displeased by his lieutenant’s lack of humor, although it faded just as quickly as it came. “I wish to know your progress, what you have accomplished.”
Rolling his eyes, Mairon shook his head. “You still doubt me. Very well, I will show it all to you.” with a wave of his hand, he beckoned the Vala follow him. They passed through a short hallway, out of the examination room. “It is not due to lack of trust,” Melkor explained “Yet precious little time have you spent in court. It is hard not to assume idleness.”
“Idleness indeed.” snapped the Maia in response. “Forgive my boldness, but I daresay Gothmog has achieved less than myself in these three months.”
“We shall see, then.” Melkor chided. “I will judge the proof.”
The hallway ended in a large, open room, lined with counters, shelves and cabinets. The back wall was lined with thick wire cages, all manner of sickly, foul creatures contained within. A mass of sleek fur writhed as one, some twenty rats all squirming for space in the confined area. Another cage contained a single vulture, its beady eyes watching every movement of the room. Beside it a glass cage housed several vipers, deathly still, just waiting for an opportunity to strike. Two other cages each contained preserved bodies, a fox, a rare white owl, (Mairon always fancy the unique ) and lastly a sealed jar holding a preserved fish, of which the teeth and eyes seemed outrageously large.
In the center of the room, two body-length tables each contained a body, one of an elf, the other an orc. Perfectly laid out paged of noted surrounded the elda, all describing various medical diagrams, clearly gained from the expertly performed dissection. Precise tools held the body open, cleaned of blood, and left otherwise untouched and intact.
The same could not be said for the orc. The pale greenish hue of its body was offset by the multiple limbs sewn onto it with as careful needlework as possible. Various other organs had been replaced as well, yet somewhere the maia had failed, as it was very much dead, and the writings on it had been filed away already.
Lurking about the room, the vala eyed the bodies first, lingering at the orc.
“The heart required such speed I was not prepared for.” Marion admitted, just to break the silence. “I can however, with enough practice, reconstruct an entire body, I think.” His voice wavered as he saw the vala’s unimpressed stare.
“The forming of bodies is an art not unknown to the Ainur. Have you anything to show that I have not already mastered?”
Marion let out a flustered grumble. “I would like to think I have. This is not of great import, at least not until war is waged.”
“Then I would see the rest.” demanded Melkor, and Mairon bowed his head. “Of course, My Lord.”
From the distorted medical rooms led to a strange garden, various planters stretched out beneath a glowing, red stone planted in the stone roof above, a substitute for natural light. Contained in a glass enclosure, a wretched looking fern wilted against the soil it was planted in. The dark, grimy leaves oozed a blackened, thick gas that permeated the air inside the glass. Atop the case a single vial rested, the black fumes bottled up. Stopping to eye the curious plant, Melkor scooped up the vial. “Is this of any use?”
“If I can construct a method to produce large quantities, it very well may alter the outcome of a battle.” Mairon began. “Even a small inhalation will dissolve a body from the inside out. The fern however is unstable. I cannot grow one that does not die within two weeks, in that time only one bottle can be produced.”
Merely nodding, the vala placed the bottle back, and moved onto the next planter, a vat of sluggish, gray water. Slimy bubbles seeped up slowly through the thick mixture, popping with small splatters. “And this?”
“Incomplete.” responded the lieutenant, moving to pocket the misplaced vial. Whichever thrall had left it out of place would no doubt loose a couple fingers, if not an entire arm. “A mockery of Yvanna’s algae. It renders the water undrinkable, but it is not potent enough to kill.”
“And you plan to release it in our enemies’ water?” pressed Melkor. “Only when I create a counter substance. It could very well contaminate All water.” Marion shook his head. “It is far from ready.”
“I am seeing very little completion.” Melkor moved on to examine a blackened, wiry tree. “This ought to have a decent purpose here. I despise trees.”
“With all due respect, My Lord, this is no tree.” Mairon hustled to catch up with the bigger man’s strides. “It may look the part of a tree, but it is your own brambles in disguise.”
Finally, Melkor raised an eyebrow, for the first time intrigued. “Go on.”
Marion let out a breath before he did, visibly relieved. “I redacted the snaring vines,” reaching up to brush away a few stray ‘branches’, he exposed a bright red, ripe apple. “With snaring fruit. Not only may this be released to grow freely, I have mastered the toxin it produces.”
Melkor tilted his head, also reaching out to feel along the plant, lightly tracing the twisting vines that splayed out to imitate flowing twigs. He was clearly in approval of this, spurring the sudden surge of confidence in Mairon’s voice as he continued. “A single bite will paralyze the body, but leave the mind fully active.” a small smirk grew on his lips. “Especially proficient in dealing with the unruly.” Leaving Melkor to his studying of the ‘tree’, Mairon sauntered to the back of the lab, to a desk, where he placed the vial with a set of others on a shelf. The desk was lined with notes and sigils, dark, forbidden magic, curses and evil incantations. To the far left a small contraption made of string, wood and tiny nails. A miniature trebuchet, a streamlined, improved model from Melkor’s original design. Of course, the vala didn’t notice it.
Once finished with the plant, Melkor idly followed the maia to his desk, a better mood trailing him. “You had at least one project to show. I would have the trees planted beyond our land at once.”
With a nod, Mairon seated himself at the desk. “Of course, My Lord. I’ll have them sent out this evening.”