Things Not Coming Together

Paris, France
May 10, 1889 - Morning
Dr. Lemaire's Lab

Dr. Lemaire had ran for a long time through the tunnels before realizing he had likely lost the Orc. You failed. Worthless. No good. You’ll never amount to anything. You had it…the one and you screwed it up. Failure. Failure. The voice in his head would stop berating him. The man paused and took a breath having no idea what time it was or where exactly he was.

The light from an exit beckoned, it was night still and he needed to get back to his lab. A quick look to gain his bearings, the doctor started towards his lab.

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The next morning.. Dr. Lemaire had not slept. All night he had been pacing…what if that Orc had told someone… what if that Orc had been quiet enough not to be heard. Setting up a trap… maybe the way the Orc seemingly non-intelligence was just an act.

Death - the doctor had seen enough death to know it and the man from last night was definitely dead. He had to be but Lemaire had never seen anyone have quite that reaction to the serum. An allergic reaction - possible. Still maybe trying Queen Anne's Lace in it was not the best thing.

Dr. Lemaire stopped pacing and went towards his vials lined up all nicely on the shelf, He glanced towards the locked box. No he needed what was in the box first. The box itself was a show piece hand carved stone, made by dwarves. It had intricate carvings on it. However, it was what was inside the box that the man had craved.

Opening the box carefully, he slowly and with great care lifted the piece of work out of it’s resting spot. There it was - an exquisite piece of hand carved coral with the few jeweled accessories. For something that was from antiquity, it had held up well.

The Visage of Nimue - it was glorious and even more glorious once the inscription delivered it’s power. Turning it over, moving his gaze to the button, there the inscription … half worn off. He had overlooked finding out if the inscription was intact.

No, no…all that planning…no…. Dr. Lamaire thought as his temper started to rise and he lifted the visage up over his head and almost threw it but - no - he could figure it out. He could not destroy it. He needed it and the power he was sure it possessed. It was only a matter of putting together the actual words.