Early In the morning, when the dew was yet to settle. The old woman of principle wandered down the stairs.
finding a spotless finish encompassing the workspace. There were a few old stains, which even granny was surprised to find mostly removed. However, her soon to be full time janitor was nowhere to be seen…
She'd stride toward Diana's bed. There, a note, and the tiny red box
Picking it up. It said,
" Sorry about this gran, I'll be out for a bit. I promise to pay for your services, by tonight I'll drop off all the money at your place.
This red box here is for sleeping beauty.
I'm also sorry for last night.
Norman "
She scoffs
'What an apologetic brat!'
Back at his home apartment, Norman could be seen rummaging through their attic.
Everything was covered in dust and debris, however soon enough he'd find what he was looking for. Wrapped in what looked like monstrous leather, a war hammer. It was embezzling with several gems and markings
'It's been a while, old friend'
Heading fast down the attic's ladder. Lay on the living room carpet, a tool box. He'd hurriedly take the biggest screw driver tip, and using it like a sort of chisel he imbued it with the slightest amount of power, prying away at the jewels, and dismantling the handle from the hunk of metal that had lightly rusted on the edges.
Dwarven artifacts and weapons alike, are oddly fragile, and this one in particular was custom made. Taylored to his mojo.
Many races have innate abilities, humans are an exception. However maji aren't bound by origin… manifestation only relies on magic favor and one's psyche. Its nature stems from the being's ideals, morality, emotion, and concept of reality.
Magic of the other races and their mana, don't bear many differences from the mojo and abilities of maji. Only that one is more tailored to the specific individual, if anything.
Now, Norman, having mojo, and a custom made weapon, finding it a new wielder would prove immensely difficult… it being a dwarven artifact doesn't make things any easier, as with how specific the embellishments are, without him, it's practically of no use as a weapon.
One thing that is however true to these artifacts, are the materials.
They are highly coveted among the markets.
However… one thing to consider…
Wouldn't it seem odd if an old woman like Gran Gran, would come by to sell full on dwarven warhammer. Besides, dismantling the thing would mean she'll be able to pawn off the materials much easier, the carry load wouldn't be as much of a burden, or if caution proceeds her, she may even sell to several shops, online methods… auctions? or maybe, with how expensive each material is on their own, she could sell them over a period of time to draw even less suspicion.
'It's the least I could do, after everything I've asked of her.'
In a few minutes, just as he'd finish portioning most of the things.
He'd hear knocking come from the door…
"Mr. Norman Thatcher!...?" A teaching, or even… academic voice sounds "We'd like to take you in for a brief questioning."
A familiar voice continues.
"uh… Old man! It's me? Scott? or.. wait, I didn't really introduce myself did I? I was the rowan at the station last night! Isn't this the promised time?" Pausing, as if to turn to his scholarly companion "right?"
"Of course, we're actually quite timely!"
"...yeah! What he said…" Scott stammers
Norman sat in silence, only to peer through the window, seeing numerous troops and aerial gear.
'Ah… well shit.'
Swiftly enough, he manages to put everything back into place, before turning the carpet into a makeshift bag holding all that the hammer was worth.
"Mr. Thatcher?" The scholar asked once more.
Norman was busy stepping out the window, and onto the rooftop, leaving the two officers to their wit. Houses were knitted quite tightly. And as such, he was able to make his way, only then was he able to process the scale of the situation surrounding the entirety of the building.
"What a grand welcome!" Mischievous on his end.
Flatly he'd say. "How sad"
His injuries hadn't made things any easier, as it considerably slowed him down…
"I can't get caught just yet!" No matter the grin, his eyes seemed devoid of any mischief
"Not yet"…
The scouting drone would identify his escape, and lead to contact the two officers and their squadron of soldiers below.
"Looks like the one whom you referred to as an acquaintance, has abandoned his post."
"...yeah…"
"Oh well! No need to fret!... After all, Commander Carter is with us. Quite the honor!"
Scott sheepishly remarks "Uhmm…" questioning he'd add "Ya know… I'd never thought I'd ever see him in the flesh, to think our big shot of the fortress would actually come out on the field for something like this.. ha-"