If the halberd was whispering on the journey back to Canis, Serendipity was unaware of it. She wasn't going to spend another few hours walking through the caves listening to its stupid mumbling, or its stupider suggestions like kill her and complete me.

She only removed the cloth crammed into her ears when she entered the room, some hours later as opposed to a few days like she'd said-- but hopefully, the Collector wouldn't mind. She wanted this fucking thing gone.

Serendipity made a beeline for the bone hut that he had taken her to for tea, half-hoping that there was.. still tea to be had in there. Something made her pause at the entrance, however, before she even had a glance inside.

And then, she decided to go with instinct. She clung to the edge of the entrance and lifted her spare hand to knock on the doorframe without looking in. "You still in here, Collector?"

Was it the same bone fortress? One was much like another, but if her sense of direction was good enough-... But then, where were the chairs? The chest?

"Oh, I haven't gone far." the brief clasp of a clawed hand on Dip's shoulder, and he was there: hooded, unblinking.

Leering behind the hood.

@Dip

Dip flinched. Luckily for the Collector, she only flinched, considering she had a corrupted halberd on the other shoulder. She tilted her head back to peer at him, and then into the bone fortress-- oops, wrong one, nothing weird about that --and then back again.

"Hello," she said, and hauled the halberd off her shoulder to offer it up to him in both hands. "You wanna take a look at it?"

"Ahh, finished so soon..?" he crooned.

Delicate clawed hands moved to take the halberd--to turn it over in his hands.

@Dip

"Yep," said Dip. She wanted the thing out but it sure as hell didn't lack in quality; the scratches had been buffed away to reveal a shiny, dark blade-- mirroring whatever looked into it. That much she hated, though.

The haft was wrong but it wasn't by any means too heavy. It was nicely-balanced, satisfying to swing around (which Dip also hated the thought of) but with the right strength, it could do a great deal of damage without bending or breaking altogether.

Even the etchings were like new; clear and legible, though Serendipity could not personally tell you what the hell they were meant to say. She'd merely followed the original shape of them to fix them, engrave them just a bit deeper and make the edges just a bit sharper.

She leaned back onto the hut and stuffed her hands back into her pockets, where they belonged. "What do you think?"

Hands slipped over the haft. Weight was tested, and claws briefly traced over the etched engravings; a thumb ran over the oil-slick gemstone.

"I think it is impressive, Dip. Your craftsmanship is worthy of respect. I still recommend that you seek out the Blacksmith," he added, with a solemnity to his generally crooning tone; "but you have certainly earned your reward." He turned, setting the halberd to carefully rest, blade upright, against the wall of bones. "Let us hope the Black Dog earns his. Now..."

He stepped forward, past Dip, moving to lightly turn her shoulder and guide her to follow him. His hands clapped together twice, sharply, and a deafening rattling sound exploded into being some twenty yards away.

A massive wagon: wooden, four-wheeled, with a double shaft--for a creature to be lashed between, for pulling--crashed to a halt just beside the bone fortress, throwing bones every which way.

Nothing was pulling it.

It looked worn, large, eight feet or nine feet long, about four wide; a tattered canvas on battered wooden ribs covered its top. "Here you are. You can get it back yourself, I trust; but it may be harder to drag when loaded. I wouldn't take passengers... unless you don't mind never seeing them again," he added, and his grin was audible. "Best of luck, Dip..."

__________

From her close contact with the corrupted Halberd, Dip is now considered Touched. See here for more.

Identified Item!

Dip has received an identified item from The Collector!

2★ The Wagon of Collection A worn wooden wagon with four large wheels. Durable, if battered by age. Cursed.

☆☆★★ ★ ★ THE WAGON OF COLLECTION A worn wooden wagon with four large, spoked wheels. Some eight feet long and four wide, with broad axles and two long front shafts, it's meant to be hitched to a beast of burden--but can be pulled by anyone. Individual items--or passengers--occasionally vanish in transit, never to be seen again. "I'll take that..." ELEMENT: MAGIC LEVEL: 90 DURABILITY: 200 SPECIAL: (CURSED): Each transport journey must be rolled against; failed rolls indicate goods vanishing from the wagon's load. MATERIAL: Wood (Enchanted) ATTACK: N/A ADDED: N/A DEFENSE: N/A WEIGHT: 120 EQUIP: None - pulled Currently owned by: Dip

@Dip

Serendipity flicked one ear. "I'll keep an eye out for him the next time I'm in Fornax," she said, but she had no idea when that actually would be. Still-- she was glad. It was good to be complimented for her work, especially when it was as fucky as the halberd.

She was turned, blinking back exhaustion. "Did you have anything about tea--" she started, and then promptly flinched back as the wagon arrived, having to duck briefly down to avoid getting smacked in the face by a flying femur.

And then, somehow, she was right next to it.

Exhaustion and fright and the memory of The Fucking Halberd forgotten, she inspected the wheels closely, and the wagon itself. She had no idea how to bend wood like that-- if she made wheels in gemstone and smoothed them out like this it'd make a decent replicant, maybe. "Ask enemies if they wanna take a ride on it, got it," she said a little playfully, idly.

She hopped up onto the wagon itself and peered out to the shafts coming out of the front. "How big would somebody need to be to drag it when it's loaded?" She asked, already calculating in her mind what she'd need to make to try to attach someone willing to it, where to tie ropes and leather straps, and how to make it decently comfortable.

And then, leaning on the edge of it past the tarp, she looked down to the Collector. "Thanks," she said. A beat of silence. "So, about making tea?"

"...You're on the wagon," the Collector pointed out, leaning idly on the bone fortress. "For the record, being on the wagon counts as-... well. Being on the wagon. I would not recommend it, Dip; I enjoy your company." His tone was dry, but amused. "As for how much strength it takes to pull that when loaded--you will have to try it out yourself, I'm afraid. I'm not much for physical labor--believe it or not. And tea-..." A thoughtful tap of claws on bone. "Come see me in a day or two. I may have something you might be interested in. In the meantime-" and here, he reached out, picking up the halberd by its haft and sort of bouncing it, "drive safe..."

The Collector winked one red eye, and vanished, leaving Dip with the bones--and the large, empty wagon.

For a moment, it sounded--very faintly--as if it were laughing at her.

@Dip

Despite the warning, Dip remained Standing In It for a few seconds longer, tapping her fingers against the wood. If she were lucky, Laurel might be able to tug it along. If she were unlucky, she'd need to start meeting friends and finding a strategic way of asking them to pull a wagon.

She looked down at it, hearing it laugh, and flicked her ear. Magic, she reminded herself quietly, and then moved to hop back down off the wagon and back to safety. She rolled her neck one way, and then the other.

"See you," said Serendipity to empty air, and then took one prong of the wagon to start dragging it along, back out of Canis.

exit