Rings of spectators often collared the corridors of Bazaar,
which was the eternal market district of Anthem Low. It was mainly for this reason that Seph avoided the place entirely - he hated anything that would slow him down - but this time, to his shock, he saw that one ring had grown a tumor of pressing bodies and craning heads, so large that it actually spilled over the brim of Bazaar and had begun to congest the general thoroughfare.
Now this was worth a look.
He surveyed the scene a while, then went around to the side of a building, pulled himself up the sides of the walls. The earliest stages of the morning always left him feeling powerful like this, and he loved this time of day, after most of the weird effects wore off and most of the better ones remained.
Up a story, then another, fingers poking into the lattice, shaking off the sticky tongues of guardvines there, thoughtlessly. They left marks on him like violet fingerpaint, and just as harmless.
Once he was up onto the roof there, he picked his way across it, finding safe step in the shallow holes where tiles once had been; they pretty much highlighted a path for him, and soon he found himself over the crowd's knot.
There was a good amount of space around the golem, about an armslength all the way around. It stood straight and tall, a figure of the usual hard clay and magum metal, but it had a film of gel hydraurum that shimmered like gold skin against the wirelight, and Seph could see too that it moved with a greater fluidity than normal golems did, indicating that it had been rigged with greater complexity. Rather than moving jerkily, it moved too smoothly, and had trouble stopping some motions. Joints of ball bearings and water, no doubt.
Still, that was not too unusual. Why was everyone gathered around?
He squinted, but didn't have to look too hard. There - on its forehead. It was distinctive and deep, an intricate little insignia a thumb's deep in places, a hair's thin in others. Just seeing it made him feel a little thundercloud nestle on his nape, brush its lightning needles across the skin.
It was One Fuller.
Now this was worth a look.
He surveyed the scene a while, then went around to the side of a building, pulled himself up the sides of the walls. The earliest stages of the morning always left him feeling powerful like this, and he loved this time of day, after most of the weird effects wore off and most of the better ones remained.
Up a story, then another, fingers poking into the lattice, shaking off the sticky tongues of guardvines there, thoughtlessly. They left marks on him like violet fingerpaint, and just as harmless.
Once he was up onto the roof there, he picked his way across it, finding safe step in the shallow holes where tiles once had been; they pretty much highlighted a path for him, and soon he found himself over the crowd's knot.
There was a good amount of space around the golem, about an armslength all the way around. It stood straight and tall, a figure of the usual hard clay and magum metal, but it had a film of gel hydraurum that shimmered like gold skin against the wirelight, and Seph could see too that it moved with a greater fluidity than normal golems did, indicating that it had been rigged with greater complexity. Rather than moving jerkily, it moved too smoothly, and had trouble stopping some motions. Joints of ball bearings and water, no doubt.
Still, that was not too unusual. Why was everyone gathered around?
He squinted, but didn't have to look too hard. There - on its forehead. It was distinctive and deep, an intricate little insignia a thumb's deep in places, a hair's thin in others. Just seeing it made him feel a little thundercloud nestle on his nape, brush its lightning needles across the skin.
It was One Fuller.
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