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The Art of Reasonable Measures
Chapter Two - The Smell of Success is Often Not So Sweet

Chapter Two - The Smell of Success is Often Not So Sweet

For the next several nights Marjorie schemed, toiling over her private laboratory in the basement below the apocrathy. Finally, on the third night, she waited in the dark for the midnight hour to pass. The time had come for her revenge.

With her alchemist's satchel hung over her shoulder, she listened at the door for the guard patrol to continue their rounds. She wore a dark red cloak that appeared black under the cover of night, under which she wore her best sneaking pants and blouse. She wrapped a dark scarf around her face as only her eyes were visible, then pulled the hood of the cloak over her hair. As the footsteps of the guards faded into the distance, she was ready.

Reaching up, she removed the small bell from above the door, laying it on a nearby table to be replaced once she returned. Slowly Marjorie opened the door and slid into the street. It was very dark outside but the bitter potion she had drank twenty minutes prior was finally taking effect. To her, the street glowed in monotone colours. The cobble stone street shone in dull grey, the various shops, all closed for the night, radiated in washed out rainbows of grey light.

She crept low, scurrying across the street as fast as her old legs would carry her. Marjorie ignored the pain coming from hips that had not moved like that in decades. Had she thought of it, she would have taken some pain relief before this excursion. But hindsight was always twenty twenty. She just gritted her teeth and let the adrenaline coat her aching joints.

Arriving at the door, Marjorie pulled her satchel around and folded the flap behind. She removed a pair of rubber gloves, a lighting stone, a bag of salt and a section of octopus tentacle. Squeezing the tentacle into the lock, she rubbed salt into the muscles at the severed end which caused it to begin twitching, then she gave the nerves a jolt with the lighting stone causing it to thrash around. It took several jolts before there was an audible click from inside. She pushed the stone deep into the muscle letting out a burst of lighting that spasmed the suckers and with a flick of her wrist the lock turned.

She had gotten the idea the day prior, when the mayor's wife had discreetly visited the apocrathy and ordered the exact same items. Marjorie had originally asked what she needed them for but the woman just gave her a few vague responses before hurrying out. Racking her brain, Marjorie eventually came to the conclusion that she had obviously lost an important key and was too embarrassed to admit as much. She figured the mayor’s wife to be a bit ditzy, as it wasn’t the first time she had ordered such items.

The door popped open and as she began to swing it when a jingle began to play from above. But Marjorie came prepared for that as well. In the blink of an eye she replaced the items and withdrew from her satchel a stick, a small sponge, and a sealed vial. She pushed the end of the stick into the sponge, uncorked the vial, and poured its contents all over the sponges surface. Blowing on it lightly, she held it up to the device above the door. From her breath the reaction began in an instant and thick foam covered the sponge. It wasn't long before the foam continued to expand, protruding between the devices moving gears until it was completely clogged up and silent. With any luck, she had been quick enough not to alert anyone close by.

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Taking a step inside the shop and closing the door, Marjorie listened carefully. it seemed she was alone. Now it was time to really get to work. A devious grin stretched across her face. After all, nobody said she wasn’t allowed to enjoy herself, while she ruined the business of that horrible pointy eared bastard.

She retrieved three vials of different coloured liquid. Unfortunately with the night sight potion still affecting her vision they just appeared as varying shades of grey. She cursed under her breath. That wasn’t part of the plan. Why the hell didn’t she label them? What sort of alchemist was she, that she didn’t have clearly marked vials?

Marjorie stared at them hard, attempting to analyse their potential colour based on their current shade of grey. It was very important not to get this wrong. One of the vials was for her, the others were to be mixed together. Swearing a little more at herself she popped open the cork of the lightest grey vial and poured a dot of its contents onto the back of her hand. It didn’t tingle so that was a mark in the correct direction. She then inhaled it directly up her nose.

Now, had it been the correct vial, she would have lost her sense of smell for several hours. Instead she choked on the most repulsive odour imaginable as the liquid lined her nasal cavity and down the back of her throat. Every breath was the fiery stench of half digested rotten meat left to sit in the sun. Her eyes watered under the pungent intensity, and she felt herself wanting to vomit over everything. With some hard swallows she managed to pull herself under control.

Marjorie eyed the remaining vials. One of them contained the antidote, though it was still a 50/50 chance that she would get the reactant and make it a hundred times worse. No, this time she would test them on the target.

She dropped to the ground and crawled close to one of the displays. She poured a drop from the first vial into the wooden floor under the shelving unit. She then took a second vial and poured a drop directly atop the first. Nothing. No fizz, no steam, nothing. That was the antidote. Quickly she poured it into the back of her hand and inhaled like her life depended on it. The cool liquid poured through her sinuses dulling the effect of the smell. Unfortunately it had been too long already and it had burned itself directly into her receptors. Though it was dulled, it was definitely not gone. That would have to do, she decided.

Marjoie then completed the experiment with the remaining vial, this time getting a visible reaction. Light grey steam rose from the pool in an enveloping cloud, quickly filling the surrounding area with noxious gas. In a few hours it would dissipate, leaving a foul smelling residue over everything it touched. Unfortunately that also included her, but that was a small price to pay for driving off his customers.

She went around every corner of the store marking hidden locations with the concoction. By the time she had finished, not an inch of it was spared and she was rather satisfied with the results.

Sneaking back to the apothecary, she went straight to her basement and began filling a large tub with hot water. After all that she needed a complete soak, and to burn the clothes she had been wearing. They were irreversibly tainted now.

As she sank into the relaxing water, she smiled once again, thinking about how very much she was looking forward to the next day.

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