Chapter 2 (Part I): The Left Hand

We all hide who we really are from the people around us. Our success in life is largely determined by whether we are hiding that person from ourselves, as well.

-       Verax Scorpio Vexarius, Master Provocateur of the First Sinister Legion, explaining his job to his fiancé (his words related by her to her eventual children, and by them to me).

Meingen was more challenging to track down than Vinny had expected. Although he left much later than the orcs that Thrakaduhl had taken off to pursue, the man would almost certainly travel faster, and one of the farmers on the west edge of Defiance said they saw him leave town on one of the back roads. With the others following the main road, Vinny searched the weaving, intersecting back roads, expending considerable time trying to pick up the man’s trail.

Vinny finally got the lead he needed in the same inn he’d met with the women days ago. Vinny and Meingen had a common contact in the innkeeper, and Meingen, not being a gifted spy, had long ago made arrangements with the innkeeper for a workplace, assuming that Vinny would have no cause to track him down. The innkeeper had connected him with some less than reputable alchemists that worked out of a compound concealed in the woods and, apparently, they’d really hit it off with one another. The innkeeper himself admitted to Vinny that he’d been rather surprised but apparently the men had had more in common than one would expect.

Ultimately, it had taken Vinny several days to get a good lead on Meingen’s location, but he’d never actually doubted he would be successful, even with the intense time-pressure placed on him. Vinny the merchant, Vinny the maybe-spy was a Gnoman two-hand, and a two-hand was practically inescapable.

It perhaps bears some explanation that the military of the Gnoman Empire has two major branches: the Right Hand of the Empire and the Left Hand of the Empire. Many countries divide their military forces based on operating theater, differentiating, for example, their army from their navy. The Gnomans, however, perceive subtlety to be the more relevant distinction.

The Right Hand of the Empire, also known simply as “the Knuckle,” is comprised of the Dexter Legions, which are responsible for conventional warfare. Whether on land or by sea, the Dexter Legions confront enemies in open battle, and overcome them with superior skill, discipline, and technology. They prevent war by intimidation, and end wars through force. The Left Hand of the Empire, also known simply as the “the Knife,” is comprised of the Sinister Legions, which are responsible for non-conventional warfare. They use a wide range of tactics including espionage, sabotage, assassination, psychological warfare, economic warfare, and political manipulation. They prevent wars by undermining potential enemies and pitting them against one another, and end wars through total ruthlessness.

Thirty-five years ago, the Tulusan Gnoman who now hunted Magister Meingen had been identified as ambidextrous. To the Gnomans, such a gift is a sacred blessing and when he eventually enlisted in the Gnoman military he was granted a special privilege; he was trained within both the Right and Left Hands of the Empire making him a 'two-hand'. “Vinny” as our heroes knew him, was in fact Verax Scorpio Vexarius, Praetor of the Fifth Dexter Legion and Master Provocateur of the First Sinister Legion.

There were a lot of “Vinnies” that Verax rotated through as the situation required, each of them layered with contradictions so that when some suspicious or overly interested individuals dug through the surface layer they would simply find another layer masking Verax’s true self. One Vinny was a sort of charming rogue, who seemed determined to cover up a deep streak of bravery and a general sense of goodwill with a shallow façade of self-interest and cowardice. There was veteran Vinny, who’d seen too much cruelty and suffering in the world, and despaired that everything was a hopeless endeavor, yet couldn’t stop himself from fighting the good fight when the occasion called. There was even super-spy Vinny, an overly well connected and unusually worldly merchant with a slippery identity and a lot of secrets, an international man of mystery; it was essentially the most cliché and obvious spy persona Verax could construct and his favorite to play by far.

The real Verax was present in every iteration of Vinny but no Vinny was the real Verax. The real Verax was a devoted husband with two children, and a wife who eagerly looked forward to him taking a desk job in Tulusa. The real Verax was a stalwart patriot who saw the strengths and weaknesses of his own country but remained unwaveringly devoted to his duty. In fact, his commitment to the cause was second only to his commitment to his family and superseded any other moral or philosophical concerns in his life. It was this Verax that slipped into the alchemists’ compound in the woods north of the highway.

Clad in his dark cloak, Verax had moved through the trees above the compound like a wraith come to bring an end to someone chosen by fate to meet their maker. Tonight it would be Verax making the choice, though, and after detached deliberation he’d decided it was important that no one ever know what happened to Magister Meingen.

Verax had found the alchemists’ one real means of protection strolling along the edge of the compound, a big brute of a man walking along the inside of its poorly constructed wooden palisade wall, listening for anyone approaching in the dark. He walked right into the wire loop that hung from Verax’s hands, and before the man could even register the feeling of the metal against his throat, Verax cinched it tight to the branch he’d been perched on, snaring the man on a short leash. Verax had dropped silently behind the man and slashed through the tendons on the back of the man’s legs with his knives. The man dropped and the wire finished him as it pulled tight.

Verax then found two of the alchemists resting in their bunk house. A bit of finely powdered poison sprinkled on their lips ensured a painless death in their sleep. The remaining three chemists were at work in a lab, concocting some sort of toxic garbage they intended to market to the people for recreational purposes. Vinny had patiently picked them off one at a time as they went in and out of the lab, pulling the last one straight out of the window and slitting his throat.

Finally, Verax found Meingen, the magister who’d deceived him, hard at work in a separate space he’d been given all to himself. Verax slipped in through a window and when Meingen startled Verax simply shushed him and told him he was there to rescue him.

“Oh,” Meingen said, “I’m afraid you misunderstand, I’m here quite voluntarily. You see, the fellows here understand what I’m doing – they understand the way that our government and our economy oppresses us, and have offered to shelter me while I finish my work. Soon, I’ll be ready to destroy the dragon’s hoard, and put an end to its rule once and for all! Then, the only things of value will be what a man can make with his own intelligence and hard work. Myself and my friends here, we will finally have what we deserve!”

“Magister,” Verax said, “I know what you’re building – I know you’re not planning to poison the gold, I know you’re planning to blast that dragon to smithereens.”

“Oh… you do?” Meingen asked with genuine surprise. His reaction confirmed Ochsner’s theory.

“Yeah, and that’s fine, but look, these guys are playing you,” Verax said, “They’ve got no interest in destroying the establishment – they’re criminals, and crime’s only profitable so long as it stays illegal. Wiping out the government makes their shit legal, and guys like these will have to compete with honest folk that are smarter and work harder.”

“Really…?” Meingen seemed confused by the idea of crime being profitable.

“Well, do you think smugglers would make as much coin if their goods could be traded legally? Would a thief be as successful if anyone could take whatever they want? How many people would need an assassin if murder weren’t illegal? These guys, the last thing they want is a free country.”

“But why help me then?” Meingen asked.

“They want to know how to build your device so they can make more for themselves. I mean, a box that can blow up a whole building...” Verax pretended not to grasp the weapon’s scale, “What’s that going to be worth to someone? They can sell it to the highest bidder or use it to demand ransom payments.”

“I see, yes, of course,” the old magister agreed, “We can’t allow that to happen. Can you get us out of here quietly?”

“It depends,” Verax said, “We can’t leave any trace of your work behind. Is there any chance any of them have made off with copies of it, samples, or anything?”

“No, no, I don’t think so,” Meingen said, “Nothing has gone missing, and I’ve been working almost nonstop, securing everything when I do rest, so I can’t imagine that they could have copied my materials.”

“Good, good. So what’s in this room is all we’ve got to take. Is that the device?” Verax pointed to a large metal case on the floor.

“Yes, yes, we’ll need a cart to move it, I’m afraid. That will complicate things.”

“Is it safe to move, though? It’s not gonna blow up on us is it?”

“No, no. I managed to synthesize the deathmetal,” he walked over to his desk and patted a lead box, “but I haven’t installed it in the device, nor have I created the explosive charge which will trigger the detonation. Nothing too difficult, but right now this is essentially a useless box with a lot of moving parts. In fact…” he picked up his notebooks and satchel, and patted the lead box again, “these are all we really need to take. I could just dismantle the device casing right here. It will set my work back of course, but not greatly so.”

Verax flinched as if he’d heard something and leaned back out the window.

“What is it?” Meingen asked as he ran over to the window, “Do they know you’re here?”

“No magister,” Verax said, “They don’t.” Verax dropped his razor blade into his hand and plunged it into Meingen’s left carotid artery. The blade slipped past the alchemist's trachea and back out in a fluid motion.

The man dropped his papers and clutched at his throat, trying to hold back the precious blood that was pumping out of his body. He staggered towards Verax, but the gnoman simply kicked him backwards with one foot, toppling him. Meingen’s blood poured out onto the floor, staining his work red.

Verax pulled out his enchanted object – a novelty coin, and spoke into it, “Base, this is Vinny. I found Meingen and took care of him. Tell Ochsner she was right, that he was working on a device like she said, but not to worry; I got to him before he could actually make any progress. One win for the good guys, right?”