Still in the past...

Hazé knew the two idiots were bad news as soon as they walked in the door. The bell rang loudly and heavy boots scuffed the floor, pounding on the boards self-importantly. Breaths were cleared haughtily, and loud sniffs could be heard even before she and Mama came out of the back room.

It was now no secret that Mama could see, even if her head didn’t exactly zero in on what she was looking at. Still, Hazé held her hand as they came out to the counter, and both of them wrinkled their noses at the odors of the chemicals coming off the two men there.

Both of them were adorned in belts, pouches, and bandoliers, from which hung more purses, bottles, vials, packets, and other suspicious things, along with a prominent badge on the shoulder of their black robes... which looked to have gone through a fire or two at one time or another, and had many a suspicious stain on them.

“Oh, it’s you two again.” Hazé wrinkled her small nose unpleasantly. “Mama, they still haven’t learned how to wash clothes and take a bath yet!” she piped up, the way her head was thrown proudly back clearly conveying that SHE had learned how to do those two very important tasks!

“Hush, dear,” Mama Greta patted her hand, while the two men scowled unpleasantly. “Well, well, what can my little shop possibly have to satisfy the Alchemist’s Guild, Masters Ulgwith and Rombal? Do you want to place an order for some actually fresh herbs, instead of that dried dust you sell to idiots who don’t know alchemy?”

Her voice was warm and welcoming, in total contrast to her words.

“See here, woman! Insulting the Guild is a dangerous thing for a mere hedge witch!” sneered the shorter man, Ulgwith, his bald skull sporting a bright green patch of glow-in-the-dark skin from some accident or another. He fairly reeked of preparing too much pallcap mushroom oil, giving him an unsightly twitch every now and then. One of his eyes was also near bulging out of its socket, probably from using moon oil to help him see in the dark.

Hazé was fairly certain the two of them were corpse robbers, reducing fresh corpses before they could be burned down for materials sold off under the table to wealthy idiots dabbling in stuff they shouldn’t.

“My, how threatening. So, you’ve come to my home to sell threats now, have you?” It was really hard to look Mama in the eyes when she was looking a foot to your left.

“I think they came to smell up the place!” Hazé proclaimed loudly, and Mama sighed theatrically, shushing her again.

“You know why we are here, Greta,“ Rombal began in a wheezing voice.

“Mama Greta!” Hazé promptly interrupted him proudly. The tall one was too pale, cadaverously thin, and had a nose a size too big with a great number of swollen veins, as if he’d been imbibing things better not discussed, and sniffing things which no intelligent person wanted to. His butter-yellow eyes were narrow and unsettling, having about as much emotion as the corpses he liked to take apart.

And he didn’t clean under his nails, either. Ewwww!

“Control your daughter’s tongue, Greta,” began the short one.

“MAMA GRETA!” Hazé promptly hollered at the top of her lungs, fixing them with all the dire menace of a three-year old’s gaze, stamping her small feet with great authority, her “Hazé wuvs Mama” embroidered shirt her own shining suit of mail, the green bowties in her pigtails her own winged helm. Mama Greta just made a dismissive gesture, but didn’t try to hide her smile.

They finally harrumphed and looked away, finding it beneath themselves to argue with a child. Hazé put her nose up proudly at having won the browbeating contest, not budging an inch from Mama’s side.

“You know the reason we’ve come. The Guild would like to buy the formula for your Moon’s Milk skin cream. Our offer will be fair-“

It was Mama’s turn to snort a laugh, and Ulgwith scowled again.

“Your attempts to duplicate it didn’t work? Your snitches have long passed on all the possible ingredients, have they not, even if your ilk haven’t broken it down?” Mama smiled, teeth white and gleaming, in contrast to the yellow-toothed men in front of her. “Your last ‘fair offer’ was less than a tenth of its value. Have you come back to double, triple your last offer, and still gain it for such a pittance?”

Both men flushed. “It is unwise not to share your knowledge... Mama.” Hazé let out a snort, squinting at the two of them suspiciously. “Any intelligent person would have registered the recipe with the guild a long time ago, in case something were to happen to them, and the knowledge be lost...” Rombal went on, in something that might have been a solicitous tone, were it not for the gloomy aura attached to it.

“Well, you know us old blind women, copper-wise and gold foolish. It would be a shame if the poxed whores you visit couldn’t receive my cream, but such is fate.” She waved her hand. “You should leave, gentlemen... and please, invest in proper detergents and scented soap.”

“You are taking a great risk, Mama, both for yourself and those close to you,” sneered the affronted Ulgwith coldly.

“Did you just threaten my daughter in front of me?” Mama’s voice was very pleasant, and her hands moved very precisely to certain spots on the edge of the counter in front of her.

Both of the alchemists froze as there was an ominous click beneath them.

“Hands up and out of your pockets,” she ordered cheerfully, and both men removed a hand each from deep pockets, carefully empty of anything dangerous, holding them up so the sleeves fell back from arms pocked by scars from acid and fire. “Good boys. Now you just back out that door and head down the walk. If you make it to the fence alive, it’ll mean you didn’t try anything funny.”

They glared at her, and around, trying to ascertain where the threat came from. Hazé was openly smirking at them. “Stinky bad men!” she piped up bravely, shaking her small fist at them, totally humiliating them.

“Go on now. When the guild can actually afford the cream, come back, and I just might be interested.” Her hands didn’t move from the counter as the door creaked politely open behind them.

“We’ll report this treatment to the Guild!” Ulgwith snarled, and there was another click. He yelped as a row of spikes shot up from the jamb and partially impaled one of his feet, right through his heavy boots.

“Tell them to send a charmer instead of some roach-eaters next time, Master Ulgwith. Have a nice day, now!” Mama beamed a smile at the two of them. Eyes on the ground, and then on several birdhouses that rotated slowly to follow them down the walk, the cursing alchemists retreated from her yard, and didn’t lower their hands until they were past the low stone fence at the edge of her drive.

They made clutching motions at several vials and pouches, then noticed the birdhouses were still oriented on them. Swearing, the two hurried away down the road, wondering what tricks she had hidden, but not brave enough to tempt them.

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Hazé floated up to the top of the counter to look after them, her eyes cold. “I’m going to have to kill them, Mama,” she said calmly.

Mama’s smile didn’t fade at all. “The guild doesn’t have any intention of buying the formula, sending those two. They are either here on their own, or the minions of someone powerful in the guild who is willing to do anything for the formula. It might be a good idea for them to learn I have someone backing me, too.”

Hazé nodded in agreement. “I’ll wait until there are some witnesses around. I wouldn’t want them to die messily and nobody see it.”

“Well, they won’t smell as bad when they are dead,” Mama observed with a soft laugh. Hazé smiled and flitted away quickly to get into position, while the dart launchers with poisoned loads silently rotated back to their original orientations.

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The whole town saw the stinky alchemists going down the main road in a bad mood. They also saw the green lightning come down out of the sky, and melt their flesh off their bones. As the many reagents on their bodies exploded in a panoply of dangerous smokes and fumes, their screaming skeletons ran around mindlessly for at least thirty seconds dripping acidic green flames everywhere before their skulls finally melted away and corroded. Their steaming bones finally fell into the middle of the main street through town.

It was an hour before anyone was brave enough to take a close look at them, and two before some strong men with wet kerchiefs over their faces emptied a wine barrel full of water over the fuming, spitting bones, finally dousing them.

The Alchemist’s Guild learned of the happenings quickly, sending a dour tradesman over to pick up the wet powder that was left of them and depart emotionlessly.

------

They didn’t come to bother Mama Greta again. They did try to strangle her supplies of reagents, which resulted in the disappearances of several agents involved in threatening, bribing, or infiltrating those people who did business with her.

They also tried tampering with some of her products, which only resulted in a couple men being caught, ties being found leading back to the Guild, and the temple of Harse imposing some severe penalties on them for the burns done to the unwitting women who’d used the tampered and resold facial cream.

Mama Greta used the opportunity to naturally raise her prices again for all but those people she knew personally. The level of her clientele increased accordingly, and after being found out, the Alchemist’s Guild didn’t dare to take action. One of the women affected had been the sister of the Duchess, who was naturally not happy with them. The Guild had been only a hair from being dissolved entirely, and certain members were purged from its membership.

Several of those people were never seen again. Hazé wasn’t ashamed to get rid of them while they were down. Dismantling the darkness within the Alchemist’s Guild was worth a good chunk of Karma...

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Hazé still could not make her own Gear, as any Karma she earned was immediately applied against her debt... and only her debt. It didn’t ‘buy’ her active Levels, because she wouldn’t let it. She knew that if she bought off her Levels directly, when they were finally done she would be paying Ten prices for new Levels. She was perfectly happy to pay for all the Karmic Debt and start at 0, rather than pay Ten prices for Secondary Class Levels.

That Karmic Debt looked like a big number, but to a Ten... not so much. Unfortunately, she didn’t have an unlimited Karma grinding area where she could truly strut her stuff... but since she was not even four years old, she didn’t really want to be engaging in Warcaster stuff full time, anyways.

Still, she had gold, which meant she could hire others to acquire basic Gear... or she could claim it as spoils off of others, and that way make it for herself, which was basically how she went around doing things.

The reputation of someone or someones who were treating the darker forces in the Empire as sheep to be fleeced and slaughtered was certainly angering some very powerful people. They were looking for her, and they might even find her someday.

In the meantime, a lot of the people looking for her were dying, too...