A muddy road serpentine and she wondered if she’d get that wagon to stop.

“This damnable torrent will not be the death of me; I’ve got a meeting of the most urgent kind.”

All her tools were ready, a hidden sliver of a sword, emblems blessed by the Antediluvians lost, edges of knives touched by the holy whetstone of the Prime Mechanics, veins coursing with Kaltostat and wicked bile. The last being the mindset of this professional.

So close, so vain.

Carriage slows as she beckons.

“I’m an Autonoom.”, were the last words from the the driver before the end.


I like where this is going. I'll challenge with "Inconvenient Voyage".