Tro stood sentry outside a private pocket-room, one of dozens lining the Bureau's perimeter like high-end holding cells. He stood as a watcher to signal to the Ill Omen Acquisitions lance members. Faith awaited within, having reserved the room beforehand. Vex had been the first to return. She had arrived with a sour expression on her face, like she’d had a meal consisting of nothing but lemons and red pepper. Trouble overheard the two having a low conversation; Vex snapping and hissing about being manipulated into a tool, and Faith replying in gentle and level tones about how ‘it was all part of the plan’. Vex cursed in a long string before flopping down into a seat.
Alex was the next to arrive, stepping from an elevator with his sarcophagus slung over one shoulder. The soulforged spotted Tro and made a beeline for the meeting space. As he closed the distance, Tro noticed that Ex had a black arcane sigil branded onto his skull. It was a coin-sized design just above and to the left of his eye. The skin around the mark was angry and weeping, a raw reminder of the Bureau's ownership over those with a record. Tro recognized a Dereliction Brand when he saw one. Ex gave Tro a wary nod before entering the enclosed space. Tro could feel the resounding thud of the coffin dropping to land on the ground, resting against one wall.
Architallis came next, holding a large backpack with nervous hands. Tro waved the Vhenari over, and the large rat man scampered across the room to hurry inside the room with the others. As he passed, Archi did not make eye contact, but Tro noticed a matching black brand on the Alchemyst’s right hand.
Archi had only been in the meeting for minutes before glass shattered and a splat resounded from outside. Faith opened the door to the private space. “Would you be so kind as to collect my brother?”
Tro looked from Faith to the front doors, where Adventurers were moving to see what the commotion was. Tro traded another look between the doors and his new boss before moving to follow her instructions. He slipped through the growing crowd like a ghost among shadows. When Tro breached the mob that had gathered, he found Sin lying on his back atop a carpet of broken glass. He had fallen from high enough to produce a splatter mark of wet gore, but he was already moving, his joints re-assembling with sickening, wet pops as he tried to maintain a dignified posture.
“Hey!” came a man’s voice from above. Everyone looked up the length of the bureau to find a Dwarven man poking his head from a shattered window. “You alive?!” he called down.
In wordless answer, Sin gave a raised thumbs-up with one hand.
“Well, don’t come back!” the Dwarf shouted down, waving an angry fist. “I don’t care what your papers say! You’re a disgusting hog and’ve been nothing but a mountain of trouble!” Tro raised a brow at the Dwarf, not that he could have noticed from his distance. However, Tro could see every detail of the Dwarf’s face, from the tomato paste-red angry complexion to the twitching of his left eye.
Tro shook his head in astonishment before stepping beside Sin and picking him from the gore and glass, draping one of the Immortal’s arms over Tro’s shoulders. “What do?” Tro asked in a tone just loud enough for Sin to hear.
“I shall provide explanation once the lance is collected,” Sin said before breaking out in a cough that sprayed blood.
“I think your man's leaking more than he's worth,” said a burly Orc, looking at the Immortal with speculative, hungry eyes. “Best find a saw-bones or a gutter-priest.”
“Fret not, friend. We have potions awaiting on standby.”
The Orc’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not your friend, buddy. You’d best take a stride before I finish what that fall couldn’t.”
The crowd parted for the pair as they hobbled back inside. “Drastic change,” Tro said quietly.
“What, the Orcish gentleman?” Sin asked before giving a one-shoulder shrug. “Tis but a side effect of my curse. People are prone to turn balefully bitter towards me upon the drop of a coin.”
“Unfortunate,” Tro said as he opened the door to the lance’s meeting space.
The interior of the circular space was occupied by a table designed like the foot of one of the columns that the bureau office displayed outside and within the main hall. Atop the table sat Vex’s witch hat. Running the perimeter of the circular space was a single curved brown leather couch. The walls of the space were gray-white with black and brown trim, ornamented with the pelt of an Axe Hide Bear, the bone blades unmarred by damage.
Tro rested Sin down beside Faith before stepping back to sit beside his own sister. “Explain,” Tro said to Sin evenly.
Sin took a deep breath before elaborating. “My common luck is to blame, as is custom. Tell me, how often do Dwarves partner romantically with Elves?”
“Not… often,” Ex said, drawing out the first word, and an unspoken question in his answer. “Elf tastes don’t normally swing toward stout and hairy. Why?”
“Because,” Sin started in an exasperated tone. “I caused no small amount of chaos during the examination. Devices shattered at my touch, my tongue stumbled over simple queries, and the tests proved a series of damnable disasters. But the final folly was when I fell and unintentionally landed in the bosom of a fair-haired Moon Elf. As the threads of Fate aligned, she was my proctor’s spouse. While extricating myself from her cleavage, I pulled her skirt to her ankles. That resulted in her spouse defenestrating me.”
“Defene-what?” Ex asked, punctuating the question with an open hand.
“It means to throw someone or something out a window,” Archi explained even as he rummaged through his new bag. “Though that explanation does make the sounds crystal clear. Tell me, what is your new class?”
“Trickster,” Sin said irritatedly.
“But… don’t those guys use Chaos and Fate Myst to control luck and how things turn out?” Ex asked. “I know your sister’s got that Fate juice going on, and it’s pretty clear that you don’t got a scrap of good luck. So why did they give you that class? Wouldn’t you be a subcaster? Those guys that’ve only got access to one element.”
Sin rubbed his brow in a tired gesture. “By all accounts, you are certainly correct. However,” he flicked an irritated glance at Faith. “My sister pulled on those threads of fate and corporate strings to tailor things as she saw fit.”
“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Faith chided. “You should know full well that any subcaster gaining a class is an uphill skirmish due to the biases of the people.”
“I would have performed quite fine without a class,” Sin groused.
“Not legally,” Faith said. “Now hush, brother,” she turned to Architallis. “Care to reveal your new class, Mister Zenno?”
In answer, Archi started pulling things from his bag to rest them on the table. First came boxes of mechanical components, then came containers of myst crystals, followed by several small traps, a series of trap triggers like trip lines, motion sensors, and buttons. He finished by setting down a lock pick kit, a magnetic lock cracker, some form of scanner, and a dagger.
“Sooo, they gave you the Deviant class?” Ex asked.
“Correct,” said Archi.
“Would someone mind enlightening me?” Sin asked. “I am sadly rather ignorant of such a classification.”
Faith spoke up with the answer. “You would recognize it as what we knew as the Rogue class.”
“Ah,” Sin said. “A legal thief, saboteur, and sinister infiltrator.”
“Again, correct,” said Archi.
“So you’re gonna be our breaking and entering guy. Doesn’t that mean that you need to record each of your crimes and file docs that say, like, why it was needed?” Ex asked.
Architallis let out a heavy sigh, massaging his temples with his fingers. “Unfortunately.”
“So then, why did they change the name from Rogue?” Ex asked. “I think Rogue sounds way cooler than Deviant. Like a rogue agent. Deviant just makes it sound like you tag buildings with graffiti.”
“Because I deviate from standard civil and social norms,” Architallis began. “They labeled me as someone who pays no respect to social or civil law. While the services that a Deviant can provide can be invaluable in many instances, I have also been labeled a possible threat and hazard. I already have one Dereliction Brand because of my criminal past, meaning that if I accrue four more, I shall be sealed back up in a cell.”
“Well, shit,” Alex cursed as he realized the weight of what Archi had been saddled with.
Tro did not know how to feel about the Alchemyst being classified with something so polarizing. The vhenari had been giving Tro calculating looks when he thought the neoform was not watching. Tro could not help but suspect that something was being plotted behind those ratty eyes.
“I think that’s enough of bitching about the hand you were dealt,” Vex said before nodding toward Ex. “Anything to share about your exam, Machine Boy?”
Ex shrugged, “Nothing much to say. The testing guy threw some punches at me, shell to shell, then summoned some of those illusion monsters, and I stomped them, though I did trip twice.”
Vex blew out a breath, displacing a lock of wild hair. “Great. Now that we’re all up to rank, let’s get rolling on this job. What are we hunting? Where is it? What does it do?”
Faith tapped her therra at her temple, made a few gestures, then flicked a digital document to everyone in the lance with a therra-node. Only Sin and Alex did not have therra-nodes; both of their bodies were incompatible with the cybernetic augmentation. “Our first of Omen is known as the Last Light Lantern.”
Tro pulled up the document on his therra. Each page was a scanned copy from an old tome. The document showed a well-inked illustration of a classic, old-time lantern of black and copper metal lit with a small blue-green flame.
Faith straightened her suit before continuing her explanation. “The item is nothing so drastic as to fell an empire, but it can cause some severe hazards for an entire settlement. Caution is advised when seeking this item.”
Tro read over the device’s profile even as Vex read it aloud to the group.
Omen: Last Light Lantern
Effect: Reveals the secrets of anyone touched by the light of the item. To fuel the effect, the lantern drains myst from the local area, including from nearby mages.
Curse: After a threshold of myst has been stored within the lantern, the device conjures a large-scale myst storm. T
threshold: 100,000 vells of myst
Present vell value: 90,800vl
Present Owner: Nicholas Drake
Present Location: Conan’s Fall settlement.
“Yeah,” Vex said. “This sounds like a problem.” Tro closed his window just in time to see Vex do the same. Vex leaned forward in her seat, propping her elbows on her knees and holding her mouth with one hand in thought. “What do we have on this Drake guy?”
Faith sat back in her own seat, resting her arms along the back of the coach. “Nothing certain. It is, unfortunately, not an uncommon name. However, we have tracked an individual by that name who has moved through several settlements recently in the area of Conan’s Fall.”
“Track how?” Tro asked as he gave Faith a look that demanded details. He did not like the woman. She set his instincts on edge.
“Mostly profile tracking,” Faith said as she made eye contact with Tro before looking away. “I do have a few informants in the area that I queried about the man, but I received very little in the way of useful information.”
“Info on his species?” Vex asked, “Looks would be useful too.”
“Human,” Faith said as she brushed a spare lock of hair behind her ear. “His profile depicts him with pale skin, copper hair at a short length, blue eyes, and the front two teeth of his mouth are gold set with rubies.”
“Gold teeth,” Ex mused. “Maybe I should do something like that. Not like my teeth are being used for anything anymore.”
“About the device,” Archi started. “What kind of myst storm does it conjure? Death Myst? Life Myst? Fire or Earth Myst maybe?”
“Lumina Myst,” Faith said with a quirked smile.
“Great,” Vex said sarcastically as she threw her arms across the back of the coach as well. “It’s gonna rain laser beams and solar bombs on us. I really don’t feel like getting sun-roasted.”
Architallis rubbed his chin in thought. “The capacity of the lantern does give us an approximate size of the storm. A thousand vells would be enough to prime and trigger the event. Any theory on just how large the chain reaction will be?”
“How can you know just how big this storm is gonna be? Is a thousand vells a lot?” Ex asked.
Architallis wabbled a hand back and forth is a ‘sort of’ manner. “Yes and no. To put things in perspective, one vell of Fire Myst would light a candle flame, multiply that by a thousand.”
“So like a bonfire?”
“Then multiply that bonfire by one hundred,” Architallis said. “And that is simply the trigger that would bring about something much worse.”
“And with Lumina Myst?” Ex asked.
Vex blew out a low breath as she leaned forward again. “One vell of Lumina would produce a blip of light for a second. But it’s more complicated than that. This storm wouldn’t just be some big light show that’s a hazard for flight paths. Lumina’s elemental control spans the electromagnetic spectrum, so I hope you like radiation baths. Flesh peeling off your bones, and all that jazz.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a threat to me,” Ex said in an amused tone.
“Incorrect,” Faith said with a raised finger. “To mime Vexxenna’s comment, the flesh won't be peeling off your bones, because you have no flesh. However, the radiation from an event of such intensity would cause severe difficulty in operating your body due to the electronics being affected by the intense magic.”
Alex sat back, dumbfounded by the news. Tro suspected that the Tin Man had been eager to finally have a positive use for his new body. But such was not the case for the displaced soul.
“Do we have any clue just how long this Drake guy has had the lantern?” Vex asked. “Or how often he’s been using it? That almost-full tank has me a little twitchy.”
“As it should,” Faith said, even as she sent the team a series of duplicate images of the tome page. Each image had time stamps. When Tro checked the vell value was different in each as well as the device’s location. The pages showed a trail of this Drake man moving from settlement to settlement, stealing only as much myst as one or two mid-level mages before moving on within a few days.
“What is he doing?” Vex asked. “He’s just settlement hopping, causing some trouble, and leaving. Is this some lead-up to a big damn disaster?”
Faith produced a cigarette case from one pocket and a lighter from another. She patiently tapped the case against the open seat beside her before calmly pulling a stick from the case and lit it between her lips. Faith took a long and steady pull before letting out a jet of smoke. “Something much larger is certainly at work. This gentleman’s civic profile clearly labels him as an employee under Dryzor Corporation. Upon further investigation, I have found that Dryzor has, in fact, found itself gaining no small sum of power in each settlement while Mister Drake has been in each.”
“Strange ties,” Tro spoke up.
“Strange indeed.” Faith echoed.
“How long has Drake been at his present location?” Archi asked.
Faith puffed on her cigarette again before speaking. “He has been at Conan’s Fall for less than a day. If the pattern persists, he will remain for another three days before moving on.”
“How far out is this place?” Ex asked.
“Two days by standard means,” Faith answered.
Ex gave a thoughtful hum as he rubbed his skull with one metal hand. “That’s not a lotta time to track this dude before he strides on to the next local. Could we use an AV to get there quicker?”
“I can perform a feat somewhat better,” Faith flashed the lance a knowing smirk. “A Path Carver Caravan is presently stopping in our current settlement for restocking their supplies. This very caravan will be heading for Conan’s Fall settlement. The caravan will be leaving in a scant few hours, but will arrive at your destination within half a day.”
Ex stood and stretched needlessly. “That does sound great and all. But, wouldn’t an AV flight take even less time? Quarter of a day at my best guess.”
“While true,” Faith said. “I think you shall find some things that will prove useful in your endeavors.”
“You know...” Vex started in an irritated tone as she folded one leg over the other. “I’m gettin’ real tired of you havin’ us by the nose-ring. We’re grown-ups, Faith, not some snot-nosed kids you gotta point toward the potty.”
Faith gave an acquiescing nod. “As you wish, Miss Hawkthorn. I shall not aid you any further unless you request assistance.”
Vex narrowed her eyes, her posture stiffening. "Don't play that 'injured party' crap with me. You’ve been holding the map since we walked in. If we're taking a slow-as-hell caravan instead of a flight, it's because you've got a side-quest you haven't mentioned yet. You want us to play ball? Start being a teammate and stop being a manager."
Faith let out a thin stream of smoke, her expression unreadable. "The caravan provides... opportunities for preparation that a cramped AV cabin does not. That is all I will say, since you value your independence so highly."
“Great,” Vex said with disdainful disbelief. She stood up, snatched her hat, and jammed it onto her head. “Then consider us 'independent' until we hit the gate. Can you at least tell us where the damn thing is parked, or is that a secret too?”
“South Gate,” Faith said simply.
“Awesome,” Vex said, heading for the door. “Let’s roll out. We’ve got some orcs to make friends with.”
“Oh dear,” Sin said in a tired and worried tone.
