The Unknown Character

Szealth?

Hooray!

Tip went to a large room in the hideout that was filled with telegrams. Tip had been trained in using them by Velen to maintain secrecy. Quickly, he wrote down his message and began transcribing. This the Tip of the Knife with a message for the Darkened Fist. Stop. The Darkened Fist is currently in a meeting. Stop. Is this an urgent message. Stop.

Tip, picking up on Velen's act, said in a Valoran(?) accent, "Why don't you have Halverthan do it? Halverthan! Here, now!" Obviously, no-one came, so after a few minutes, he stood up and said, "That blasted servant, should replace him, can't here a thing we say." Tip then walked out the door. He came back later disguised in servants dress and with his hair styled differently. "Very sorry, master, here's your drinks, master Tip said that he would contact Mr. Morton in the near future."

Tip grabbed a knife covertly in the shadows behind Velen.

"You should have told me."

"You knew?"

"I can manipulate light."

"I found something out when I escaped."

"I botched the job." Might as well cut to the chase.

"You know I did. I didn't expect you to come back. I made some rounds with my own informants, who's your new friend?"

The red tube mixes with the grey. Setallon violently grabs the slop and a couple other apparently useless things. He stuffs them in the machine and presses a few buttons. He produces a very small futuristic looking lantern that glows blue and an also very small piece of good looking toast. He hands to Fadran. "I can make a lot more if you get me some stuff."

"I wasn't attacking anybody, just being cautious. I was still on guard from my run in with some... civil servants."

Setallon walks over to a fairly large space and unpack a large amount of parts that seem large enough to fill up his backpack completely and then some. He then types on his arm for a few seconds. Soon, drones fly out of a small pouch on his hip, ranging from a few millimeters to a little smaller than a centimeter. They then start construsting the machine. It takes almost a half hour of them working in tandem with Setallon before the machine is fully constructed. He reaches into his backpack, then seems to think better of it. "Hey, do you have any scraps? Stale food, scrap metal, glass shards, just about anything will work."

"See, we can be reasonable." His knife also disappears although the brass knuckles remain. "I don't appreciate being called a gremlin."

The red drains. A whitish blue tube drains and mixes with grey. "Well, I have a matter fabricator and a limited but useful supply of programmable nanotech."

"Why would I ever want to kill someone? That isn't nice at all." The yellow drains and red and green intermix. "Considering that I ended up here and that it took almost two decades to build the machine to do so with almost one hundred people working on it, it is completely inefficient." "This is the best you could do. Isn't there anything more high tech here?" The green drains to allow red and yellow to mix. His face contorts to an almost evil smile. "Let's go! That sounds fun!"

The red tube filled and yellow tube drained once again. "Hey guys, how are you doing? My name's Setallon. What's yours?"

A medium tremor runs through the building as the man transported away. "Whoah, what's with the attack, what did I do?" Somewhere in the process, his knife had elongated and a pair of brass knuckles had formed on his hand.

"Huh, what, I could ask the same if you." A knife appears in his hand.