The Hand That Mocked Them

(Skip again?)

(Yup! Where to?)

(Arrival or near that?)

(sounds great!)

Kivvien steered the cart through the streets of the town. Finally, this leg of the journey was nearly over.

Hieronymus could hear the familiar bustle of the town now. He'd poked his head up and was giving directions.

He followed the directions silently, until they finally approached the edge of town, and the cabin that sat there.

The cottage was dilapidated to the point of having leaks in the roof and moldy shingles scattered around the yard. The tower was a precarious shambles, and moss and ivy were growing everywhere. "We're here!" Hieronymus said excitedly.

Kivvien looked the cottage over critically. This would hardly do as a lab.

He pulled the cart around the back and hopped out, approaching the cottage cautiously.

Hieronymus got out with difficulty and followed. "Sir? The back door is blocked; you might want to go in the side or front."

Kivvien nodded and circled around to the side. He tried the door.

Hieronymus produced a key and handed it to him. "Try this."

He took it and unlocked the door with some difficulty, pushing the door open on its squeaking hinges and stepping into the musty room. He blinked the dust from his eyes as they adjusted to the change in lighting.

The entire cottage was dark and unbelievably cluttered. Walking would be a chore with all the garbage, books, and glass bottles in the way, not to mention the countless boxes piled to the ceiling. A set of stairs led up to the tower and another to a tiny loft. Other than that there were three rooms in the house, the door to one of which was closed.
Hieronymus picked his way through the mess to the closed door. "He's in here, sir."

Kivvien wrinkled his nose at the mess and stepped carefully around the mess to the door, which he opened and followed Hieronymus inside.

It smelled horrible everywhere, like rotten food and burning chemicals. A rat scurried underfoot as Hieronymus opened the door.
A very, very old man was lying on a wooden table, eyes wide open and glowing a sickly yellow. He was thin as a rail and bent in the back, and his fingers were badly arthritic. His face was the pale whitish-yellow of someone who had not seen the sun in a long time, and he had stubble that was several days old and wild, receding white hair. His eyes, while glowing, were still glazed with cataracts. He wore a filthy, hole-ridden blue robe with the Talo University crest emblazoned on the left breast. He gave no response as the two entered.