In grudging response to the shrieking of her alarm, Karolen Mehin forced open her eyes, resisting her every instinct to vapourise the fucking thing and go back to sleep. Today was not destined to be a joy, and it took an act of supreme self-control not to pull the sheets back over her head and give the whole thing up as a bad job.

How on earth had she allowed herself to be dragged into the middle of a powerplay between Liando Verlan and Grackle Nuroon?

It was one thing being, in theory, an entirely independent . But it was quite another when you found yourself forced to pick a side between one of the genuine upcoming movers and shakers in the commercial world of Soar and, well, Grackle fucking Nuroon.

There was simply no way that this was going to end well.

The was an institution in Soar - or at least, as the joke went, he should be locked up in one - and he'd managed to see off every attempt to bring him to heel from the moment he'd taken possession of the keys of that massive building in the centre of the Cultural Quarter. That the Trustees were reduced to trying to get rid of their man via that old favourite - an indictment for tax fraud - said as much about Nuroon's teflon nature as it did about Verlan's determination to bring the matter to a head.

It didn't help Karolen's mood that every other who'd attempted to investigate the museum's accounts in the last twenty years had not come out of things well. There had been three unexplained deaths and two inexplicable 'vanishings'. And they were only the ones she had gotten people to talk to her about. In the brutal world of financial investigation in Soar, any day you came home with all your fingers and toes was a good one, but even her dauntless courage and bravery had their limits.

Despite the assurances of Liando Verlan and the explicit backing of the rest of the museum Board, Karolen could not think of any circumstances where anything short of giving that fucking man the cleanest of clean bills of health wouldn't be a death knell.

Of course, Verlan had made it clear that they would back Karolen to the hilt should she find any . . . irregularities, but the would be being pretty naive if she hadn't considered all the ways in which her latest professional engagement wasn't destined to go horribly wrong.

Swinging her legs to the side of her bed and sitting up straight, she was taken back to the words of her best friend, Arebella Telut, at the wine bar the previous evening.

"How do you get yourself into these situations, K! This case is the very definition of lose-lose," Arebella had said.

"You think I don't know that?"

"It's the biggest open secret in Soar that Grackle Nuroon has been fiddling the museum books since Arkola was in short trousers. There's a reason the Trustees have been unable to find anyone to sign off the accounts in years!"

"I know," she had said again. Somewhat more resignedly this time.

"Best case scenario, you manage to spin anything untoward you find as an accident. A clerical error. A failure to carry the one or whatever in Soar it is you look out for in those spreadsheets of yours. But even then, there will be red faces all around when it comes. Because that blood-sucking spider of a man will find a way to make your life a misery for making him look stupid, and the Trustees will never forgive you for making it seem like they were asleep at the wheel. And that's the best case, K! I can't even imagine the shitstorm you will find yourself going through if you actually uncover enough evidence of wrongdoing to allow for a prosecution."

"Bella, I know!"

"I know you know. And that's what makes you accepting the job such a colossally stupid thing to do. You're damned if you do, and you're damned if you don't. You're going to need to find a way to recuse yourself."

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"It's too late for that. Verlan's telling the Director tonight that he's to co-operate fully with me. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't pull out now."

"Shit!" Arebella had sat back then, the gold irises of her eyes shining in sympathy. "You're seriously going to go through with this? Tell me at least the money is insanely good."

"Enough to keep me in Chardonnay. But that's not the point, and you know it. Unless some of us are willing to stand up against the way things have always been, we're never going to get anywhere. Relics like Nuroon . . . Justice needs to be done. And it needs to be seen to be done. You, of all people, should respect the hustle of trying to disrupt the status quo."

Arebella had smiled at that. "True. But it would be ideal if a few of us could live to see the sunlit uplands."

"Of course. But you're forgetting I have another option other than clerical error or wholesale fraud . . ."

"You do?"

"Yes. I can simply turn off all my Skills and turn a blind eye to anything I find. That's what the last who was sent to investigate did. Trust me, you should see the report they came up with. It's the work of an evil, maniacal genius. You can tell he's uncovered all sorts of shit, but he stops short of actually saying anything you can hang your hat on. I could play it that way? Tell the truth, but do so in such a way that he doesn't come after me. You know? Obsfucate. Obsfucate. Obsfucate."

Karolen could still see her friend's disgusted expression at that suggestion. "I mean, sure. But you're not going to do that, are you?"

There had been a tense silence before she had taken another massive gulp of wine and shaken her head. "No. I'm not. Of course, I'm not. What a fucking shambles."

Other than 'don't touch it with a bargepole', Arebella hadn't had much more advice of use to offer, and she'd made her excuses soon after. Her friend had recently got back together with that loose cannon of a detective of hers and had been spending nearly every waking moment at his apartment. In fact, their impromptu glass (or five) last night had been the first time they'd got together in over a month.

Karolen conjured up a cup of strong coffee and rolled the hot bitterness of it around her mouth as she continued to slowly wake up. No matter how you looked at it, this job was a ridiculously unnecessary risk to take with a career that, since hitting Level 20, was starting to show evidence of going places.

She had chosen Forensic Dissection as her Threshold Reward and used all her savings to immediately raise it to the Epic tier. At this stage, she could temporarily reduce a target's stats by 20% and also reveal all hidden Skills and vulnerabilities. As a bonus, she would likewise gain a 10% damage boost against the analysed target.

At University, it had come as something of a surprise to her how often an found themselves in hand-to-hand combat with their clients, but she was certainly glad to have ground her way to a Skill that gave her a bit more survivability.

And now this job.

All her painstaking progress up the slippery pole would be wasted if she were crushed between the two nightmare pillars of the Soar Museum's Trustees and its implacable Director.

Minutes ticked by, and the coffee was consumed.

Well, she finally decided, it was too late to worry about such things. She had signed the contract - and accepted the exorbitant fee - and was expected to present herself to Grackle Nuroon's tender ministrations within the hour.

Her flat in the 'emerging district' as her slimy had described it - although what precisely was emerging remained to be seen - was a short walk from a Portal Stone that would deliver her, literally, at the gates of Soar Museum. It wasn't exactly like living in Jewel Town, but she was starting to become comfortable with life's little luxuries and was damned if she was going to allow fear of repercussions from a dried-up bundle of malevolent energy to get in the way of that.

Pulling her long red hair into a tight bun, Karolen stood and crossed to the clothes she had carefully laid out the night before. Her finely tailored tunic was expensively cut and fitted with silver buttons that enhanced her Dexterity and Concentration, while her most recent purchase, trousers from one of the more exotic boutiques in the Commercial District, increased her endurance and resilience by 10%. Over the top of all that, she pulled on her Inspector's Mantle, a long, flowing cloak that shifted colours to blend with the surroundings. It provided a stealth bonus and had an aura of intimidation - which was much stronger now she had crossed her Level 20 Threshold.

Taking a final look at herself in the mirror, she was pretty happy with what she saw: the very definition of a professional preparing for the most significant case of her career.

If anyone had told her that she was on her way to witness a murder she would have assumed they were speaking metaphorically.

She would have been wrong.