The next day Michael was slowly making his way through Londinium with a slight blush on his face. Luckily, Tiffania hadn't understood why the sheets were slightly sticky in the morning, and he didn't have any intentions to illuminate the fact for her either.
With three days left to get everything sorted, Michael was doing his best to search for any herbalist, fishmonger, exotic grocer, etc. He'd need the poison by the day after tomorrow if he wanted to go ahead with his plans, so everything else could wait for now.
He'd already spoken to many grocers and herbalists already, but all of them heavily restricted any potentially dangerous products. He could only buy enough to lightly poison a single person if what the shopkeeps answers to his vague questions indicated. Certainly not enough for his purposes.
He could try and buy small amounts from many herbalists, but that'd likely be a cause for concern if anyone found out. Getting caught after that was the natural progression.
Michael lets out a sigh as he passes by the ungodly smelling fish market, having failed for the seventh time to find anything of use. If this went on, he'd run out of stores before he was anywhere close to his objective...
He's about to abandon this store for the next when he spots something that seems familiar, he couldn't see their face behind their cloak but he recognised their body type nonetheless. He dips into an alley and becomes invisible before following the man, eventually catching a glimpse of his face. "Julien." he mentally intones, as he continues to silently observe the loyalist knight.
The man seemed to be heading somewhere with a purpose, the man held a slip of paper that had directions on it, judging by how he glances at it after rounding each and every corner. Was he heading to some loyalist hideout or something?
Regardless of the point, Michael closely follows the man even as he steps into a dilapidated building that looks half ready to fall apart. Once inside though, Michael was surprised to find it relatively well furnished, as if the exterior was just a front to throw off the public.
Julien looks around cautiously before heading deeper into the house and down some stairs to what is presumably the basement. Michael's assumptions are knocked clean out of the water however when he finds himself stepping through a secret passage from the staircase leading to the sewers, the smell of which immediately assaults him.
Doing his best not to gag, he watches as Julien glances at his paper and trails a hand along the wall, until his hand eventually slips through a part of the stone wall as if it were only an illusion... Which turned out, it was, judging by how Julien takes a breath and steps through like Harry Potter at the train station.
Michael of course follows, and lets out a sigh of relief when his invisibility holds as he walks through the illusion, stepping into a large underground room. It was dimly lit and had many people walking in through other secret passages at different points, but Michael was more surprised at how something this large existed without Cromwell destroying it.
Clearly, this was a black market of sorts, judging by how many people were quietly peddling their wares are crappily-constructed stalls. There weren't any buildings down here, so tents were used to replace them. The smell of the sewers was still present too, so Michael didn't envy any who choose to live here.
Michael stops following Julien and dips into a corner where he turns visible again and pulls his hood over his head. If this place didn't have what he needed then no other place would.
He takes a cautionary walk around the black market and notices that many people were selling magical trinkets and artifacts, most prominently were ones that protected against mind control... Though, Michael doubted that these worked at all, especially with the scuffle happening before him.
"You lying whoreson! Your damned trinkets did nothing to protect my father! He's become like the rest of them now! A lifeless drone that barely even recognises me! IF I'D KNOWN YOU WERE A FRAUD I'D HAVE FLED THIS PLACE, BUT YOU!" a young man wearing average clothes exclaims, looking ready to beat the life out of a hunch-back merchant.
The merchant just raises his hands placatingly while trying to project an aura of confidence, only for the beads of sweat that ran down his face to reveal just how anxious he was. This was the black market after all, so getting beaten to death wasn't an impossibility. "P-Please sir, perhaps a different ailment affects your father? I know the mind sickness is common among the elderly-"
"HE'S ONLY FORTY WINTER OLD! WHAT MIND SICKNESS!? THIS IS MIND CONTROL YOU PIECE OF FILTH!" the man angrily shouts while raising his fist, finally losing his temper.
Michael glances around to see if anyone would intervene, and unlike topside, people did take notice of this, but still, none bothered to get involved.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
The young man's fists strike the hunchback man over and over, sending the merchant to the floor as he continues to kick and beat him. Michael just crosses his arms and waits for him to finish, he himself not liking scammers either, especially those selling items that would either heal or prevent sickness in you or your loved ones.
To be honest, right now he was more worried about Tiffania, since some kind of mass mind control was slowly taking over the city. He knew of Cromwell's ring, but that required him to directly cast a spell on you, not whatever was ailing the young man's father.
Once the merchant is beaten into a bloody pulp, Michael steps forwards and casually greets the youth with bloody fists, the man quirking his brow at him. "Do I know you? Are you here for him?" he gestures at the merchant and Michael shakes his head.
"No, I was just listening in and wanted to ask about this 'Mind control' you were talking bout."
The man scoffs, "Have you been living under a rock, man!? Have you not watched the people walking through the city streets dull-eyed and lifeless!?" he asks, his voice increasing in volume as he becomes more fervent as if he were a priest proselytising his lord.
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Michael shrugs while leaning back slightly under the young man's gaze, "I mean, I've noticed a few people like that, but most shop keepers seem alright." he pauses, "Do you have any idea why this might be happening? If people are being controlled then it must have a purpose, right?"
The man quickly nods, "It must be the nobles! They want to control everything, even our lives! They are not happy with just ruling over us!"
...
Yeah, Michael didn't think that was likely. While he hated nobles, he didn't think they'd start mind-controlling the entire population. Willing slaves were probably more effective than mindless ones. "What about your father? Does he do anything he hadn't before?"
"Yes!-... Sort of. He doesn't act like he used to, and he's started exercising despite his age, using our savings to eat more... He's even started practising sword fighting again! There's definitely something wrong!"
Michael nods, still having no idea what's happening, "Ah, thanks for the information I guess. Good luck with your father, I hope you knock some senses into him." he says as he begins to leave.
The young man waves him off, "Don't worry, I'm going to take my father out of this damned city if it's the last thing I do!"
Michael walks away while in deep thought, still keeping an eye out for any kind of herbalist. The fact that people had noticed the same strange indifference among the population that he had was worrying, to say the least, as it meant it was far more widespread than he'd anticipated.
He refused to accept that Cromwell was responsible as if the man was able to so easily control the city, Michael had little to no chance of ever getting revenge. Not only that, if the Ring of Andvari was so powerful, what other artifacts were in this world?
Regardless, he'd investigate it once he'd secured some poisons... Speaking of which, he'd spotted a stall owned by an elderly woman that had many herbs decorating it, strangely coloured garlic bulbs hanging from the top, vines lined with malicious-looking black and red berries, and one plant that occasionally snatches flies out of the air...
"Er, hello?" he asks the old lady, wondering if she was asleep or not. "I'm looking to buy some poisons to get rid of some monsters. Do you have anything like that?"
...
He doesn't get a response, and so shrugs, leaning over to the desk to give the woman prod to wake her up... Only for her to grab his wrist and prick him with one of the plants on the desk of the stall.
"Oi! What the fuck!?" he exclaims as he pulls away, glaring at the wound that was slowly turning purple. "Are you fucking crazy?" he growls, not knowing what she'd just poisoned him with.
The woman cackles, "You wanted poison right? I'm just giving you a taster, no point buying it without trying it, right!?"
He scowls at her, "That would be fucking great, if the poison I needed was injected and not eaten!"
...
The woman pouts her lips with only exacerbates her wrinkles, "Is that so?... My apologies... Here, would you like to try this one instead?" she asks, presenting a hand filled with yellow-speckled green leaves.
"Woman! I don't want to take the poison for god's sake! I want to buy it! If I wanted to try my luck I'd have gone into the woods and eaten whatever plant I came across until I found the right one. Now give me an antidote to whatever you just poisoned me with!" he exclaims, a crowd slowly gathering around the stall. Though, Michael could only grimace at the comments he was getting from the crowd.
"Heh, that lady got another one, figured everyone would know to steer clear after the tenth death."
"I mean, it's a good tactic though. Poison them and then make them pay for the cure, you think this kid's gonna be the eleventh one to go?"
...
The woman holds out her hand towards Michae with a not-so-toothy grin, "Antidote is ten gold. Pay up, boyo."
...
Michael crosses his arms, "You know you can only get away with this because it's the black market, right?"
She nods, hand still extended.
"So you know, if I cut your head off here and now, no one would care, right?" he asks, hand dropping to the hilt of his sword, causing the old lady to retrieve her hand.
"But you would die too without the cure!" she exclaims, her expression still making it out as if she'd won. But that quickly fades when Michael just shrugs nonchalantly. Unbeknownst to her, he was confident in surviving regardless of if he got the cure or not, Dark Pact would see to it.
"That's a sacrifice I'm willing to make I guess." he states as he starts walking around the stall, drawing his sword.
"WAIT! Wait, wait, wait!" I'll give it to you, just leave me alone!" she says, retrieving a small vial from an inner pocket of her robe and presenting it to him.
Was this another trap? Maybe? But he doubted she'd risk her life on it. "If this is another poison, I'm going to cut your arms off first." he states, uncorking it and downing it, ready to use Dark Pact if he feels even a single thing wrong.
...
Fortunately, the purple around the poisoned wound fades away as if it never existed. Michael nods to himself, sheathing his weapon and looking to the crowd. "I'm looking to buy some poison to deal with some orcs attacking my farm, anyone know anywhere I can buy it without getting poisoned?" he points a thumb at the woman's stall.
"Yeah, I probably got what you need. Sounded like you were gonna hide it in some food or somethin' right?" a tubby middle-aged man says and eventually leads Michael to his own stall. Again, Michael's nose wrinkled at the stench of fish, but his attention is easily drawn towards a small fish the man was now holding out to him.
"This is what I'ma sell to you-DON'T TOUCH IT!" he bellows when Michael attempt to prod it with a curious finger, "Didn't your Ma' ever tell you to not touch things you don't know about! Brimir-damned!"
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