Smearing lights, horse hoofs on cobblestone, coarse burlap scratching at his cheeks, and sharp bites into his arm. His next memories were a shattered mosaic of images and sensations. The last thing he would see of the school was the cracked ceiling above his bed, branching like a dendrite through plaster. The polite conversations he was once privy to turned to hushed murmurs. The gentle smiles they offered were paired with uneasy eyes that quickly darted away when spotted. Perhaps then, the nightmares of hundreds of dead factory workers-and of those two hazel eyes-would fade from his mind.Īs he came closer to a breakthrough, the demeanour of the monks shifted. He dreamt of ushering humankind into a new period of enlightenment. Poring over the school's archives of lost texts, he uncovered scientific formulas that confirmed previously unthinkable ideas. What began as a favour to his saviours, soon became an obsession. He agreed to help until his recovery was complete, being tasked with researching what the monks called the soul chemical, a compound derived from the pineal gland that could open the mind's eye. He realised then that his salvation was no coincidence-he was plucked from the pit specifically to advance the school's knowledge. Talbot's knowledge proved indispensable, his mind-altering chemicals integrating seamlessly with theories of neural expansion. In verdant gardens behind tall, unassuming walls, monks studied forbidden texts, striving to expand the human mind in the search for other dimensions-believing one to be connected to the other. With each pained breath, he was nursed back to health in an ancient mystery school posing as a monastery. He found himself on a small bed as a kindly, wrinkled face looked over him. Then, from the edge of death, he was brought back. Too weak to pull away, he could do nothing but witness his life's work. As he collapsed, he came face to face with a dead woman's dazzling hazel eyes. Black flies feasted on his uncovered skin, the sensation of a hundred pin pricks stabbing into him. Shifting between consciousness and the darkest black, he crawled for an escape, fingers sinking into rotting flesh.
His body was thrown into the grave and left for dead. He knew he couldn't defend himself against the anger and accusations of his abductor-all he could do was curl up as the blows from the steel pipe rained down. Unbeknownst to Talbot, his productivity-increasing drug had killed nearly an entire factory's worth of workers. When his blindfold was removed, a sickly man showed him a mass grave filled with hundreds of bodies.
The realisation struck him quite literally-with a steel pipe to the back of his head during a trip to Mangalore. Though his callous brilliance seemed unflappable, he was ignorant to the enemies his questionable work had amassed. There were no official reports on the subject, and Talbot refused to blame himself for what could only be exaggerated war stories. In feral states, they massacred villages, impaling the populace on bayonets, leaving them hanging from trees. Though most side effects were minor, there were rumours that a small number of soldiers went mad. There, off the coast of India, prisoners from the Opium War became his unwilling subjects, leading to a drug that allowed soldiers to withstand incredible amounts of pain. He was rewarded with a secret laboratory beneath a prison camp on Dyer Island. In time, he completed one of his greatest achievements: a chemical that could increase a worker's productivity while reducing their need for rest. His willingness to push the limits secured him a position with the British East India Company, and within seven years he was made head chemist. He attended the London School of Medicine and excelled despite several reprimands. Into his adult years, his ambition developed as quickly as his questionable methods. There was something magical in how a single flower could so drastically affect him. When he recovered, it wasn't fear that gripped him, but fascination. For days, he laid in bed dripping with sweat, purging any food that touched his stomach.
What began as a child's curiosity nearly turned deadly after experimenting with a patch of poisonous foxglove. As a boy, he was a popular child-bright, charismatic, and unafraid to challenge authority-yet despite his social graces he was fiercely independent, spending much of his time exploring the sprawling fields near his town alone.
This was the credo of Talbot Grimes, a Scottish chemist whose unrestrained ambition took him to towering heights. To understand the human condition, one must rise above it. Additional Lore can be found in Tome 1 - Awakening: The Hunger, Tome 5 - Unleashed: Doors Unknown, and Tome 12 - Discordance: The Human Quotient.
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