"What is it?"
"Don't know, don't care. Just pack it in the box and ship it off, like the boss said."
"Fine. Whatever," the first man grumbled. Using a large steel shovel, he scoops the 'thing' up and tosses it into a nearby plastic shipping bin. A sort of greenish blob, it had jittered a bit as they had approached it, but seemed to either be dead or just not care during the whole shoveling thing.
Brad and Terry were the men the Masked Man had sent out to handle this task. Not quite nameless, but grunts just the same, they always got stuck with the menial work. Just as Brad, a scrawny, blonde, middle-aged fella moved to close the box, Terry (his rotund, black companion) stopped him.
"Hold up. Boss said to put this in there too," he says, pulling an ornate sword from his pack.
"Whoa. You sure? Looks pretty fancy to be tossing out with the trash."
"Look Brad. I don't make the rules, alright? I just do what I'm told so I don't end up like Glitchy Glen. And you should too, if you know what's good for ya."
Brad seems to contemplate that for a moment, then shrugs and waits for Terry to toss the sword in. With their work complete, they seal the thing up and begin the work of dragging it back to HQ so it can be shipped off to Gods-Knows-Where.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What is it?"
"Don't know, don't care. Just put it in the body and see what it can do, like the boss said."
"Fine. Whatever," the first Illithid grumbled. Double-checking its protective suit for tears, it lifts the 'thing' from its glass case and drops it onto the body on the table before them. It doesn't take long before the greenish blob zips along the torso and inserts itself into the neck of proffered, and headless, corpse. A few seconds later, a ghostly, heatless flame erupts from the wound, a single eye popping into existence on the front.
Br'd and T'ree were the Illithid the Elder Brain had assigned to handle the experimentation with this thing. Not quite nameless, they were still the most expendable members of the cabal and tended to get stuck with the most dangerous assignments. Just as Br'd, a bluish-hued and scrawny Illithid, tried to drive his knife into the chest of the thing, so they could begin the process again with another corpse, T'ree (its squatter, more purely companion) stopped it.
"Hold up. Boss said we should take some notes first," it says, pulling out a pad and pen.
"Whoa. You sure? We don't know how dangerous this thing can be, right?"
"Look Br'd. I don't make the rules, alright? I just do what I'm told so I don't end up like Brainless B'rndin. And you should too, if you know what's good for you."
Br'd seems to contemplate that for a moment, then shrugs and waits for T'ree to jot down its notes. With their work complete, they drive their blade into the body, and scoop the slime up as it exits the re-killed corpse, placing it back into its glass container while they wait for another body from Gods-Know-Where.
"Don't know, don't care. Just pack it in the box and ship it off, like the boss said."
"Fine. Whatever," the first man grumbled. Using a large steel shovel, he scoops the 'thing' up and tosses it into a nearby plastic shipping bin. A sort of greenish blob, it had jittered a bit as they had approached it, but seemed to either be dead or just not care during the whole shoveling thing.
Brad and Terry were the men the Masked Man had sent out to handle this task. Not quite nameless, but grunts just the same, they always got stuck with the menial work. Just as Brad, a scrawny, blonde, middle-aged fella moved to close the box, Terry (his rotund, black companion) stopped him.
"Hold up. Boss said to put this in there too," he says, pulling an ornate sword from his pack.
"Whoa. You sure? Looks pretty fancy to be tossing out with the trash."
"Look Brad. I don't make the rules, alright? I just do what I'm told so I don't end up like Glitchy Glen. And you should too, if you know what's good for ya."
Brad seems to contemplate that for a moment, then shrugs and waits for Terry to toss the sword in. With their work complete, they seal the thing up and begin the work of dragging it back to HQ so it can be shipped off to Gods-Knows-Where.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What is it?"
"Don't know, don't care. Just put it in the body and see what it can do, like the boss said."
"Fine. Whatever," the first Illithid grumbled. Double-checking its protective suit for tears, it lifts the 'thing' from its glass case and drops it onto the body on the table before them. It doesn't take long before the greenish blob zips along the torso and inserts itself into the neck of proffered, and headless, corpse. A few seconds later, a ghostly, heatless flame erupts from the wound, a single eye popping into existence on the front.
Br'd and T'ree were the Illithid the Elder Brain had assigned to handle the experimentation with this thing. Not quite nameless, they were still the most expendable members of the cabal and tended to get stuck with the most dangerous assignments. Just as Br'd, a bluish-hued and scrawny Illithid, tried to drive his knife into the chest of the thing, so they could begin the process again with another corpse, T'ree (its squatter, more purely companion) stopped it.
"Hold up. Boss said we should take some notes first," it says, pulling out a pad and pen.
"Whoa. You sure? We don't know how dangerous this thing can be, right?"
"Look Br'd. I don't make the rules, alright? I just do what I'm told so I don't end up like Brainless B'rndin. And you should too, if you know what's good for you."
Br'd seems to contemplate that for a moment, then shrugs and waits for T'ree to jot down its notes. With their work complete, they drive their blade into the body, and scoop the slime up as it exits the re-killed corpse, placing it back into its glass container while they wait for another body from Gods-Know-Where.