Despite Karolen living in close proximity to her district's Portal Stone, the inauspicious driving rain added considerably to her journey to the museum.

As she locked her front door, water poured down in sheets, turning the streets of Soar into a network of glistening rivers. All of those commuters who might usually have enjoyed a leisurely early morning stroll through had instead decided a short, wet queue for mana transportation was preferable to a much longer mobile soaking. Thus, when she arrived, there was an irritatingly large scrum of humanity waiting around the Portal Stone, all in various degrees of poor humour.

Karolen groaned in frustration as she joined the serpentine queue which wound its way down More-In-Expectation-Than-Hope Avenue and back up towards the street on which she lived, Contemplation Drive. Of all the things she thought might go wrong with her assignment today, turning up both late and wet had not been in the top ten.

But there was nothing to be done about that now. Having little else to occupy herself with until it was her turn, Karolen spent a few minutes amusing herself at the eclectic mix of professionals and . . . the less gainfully employed that were now huddled together under whatever ramshackle cover they could find.

At the front of the line stood a Level 18 looking particularly embarrassed at this state of affairs. The short, dark-haired woman was muttering incantations to ward off the rain that was, technically, part of their job description and ignoring the glares of everyone else who was getting soaked. Beside her, a Level 7 tried to shield his wares with an oversized raincoat, checking the deluge wasn’t ruining the carefully organised powders. It was very much in keeping with this part of town that he was doing a roaring trade with those who needed a 'little something' to cope with the wait. Indeed, in a display of the entrepreneurial spirit for which Soar was so famed, he had teamed up with a , smelling faintly of espresso and caramel, to offer an outrageously good value '2-4-1' deal. Thus, all the way down the line, people were balancing steaming cups of coffee in one hand and surreptitiously snorting something eye-opening off the wrist of the other.

There were going to be some buzzing people at their desks this morning, Karolen thought . . .

A little further back, a Level 24 stood with their arms crossed, electricity crackling around their fingers whenever someone jostled them and repeatedly shocking themselves whenever rain fell on them. Karolen did not think there was much chance of the guy making it to Level 25. Behind this ongoing suicide attempt, and repeatedly bumping into them, a wrangled a leash holding a pack of invisible, presumably wet, spectral hounds. Or, Karolen supposed, it could just be they were an early-morning mentalist gearing up for some high-quality chicanery . . . Watching the man hit the again and again with the lead, Karolen thought it was too early to make that call.

And all of this was set to the tune of a Level 11 played a melancholic little tune on a waterlogged violin, adding a touch of whimsy to the dreary scene.

Despite herself, Karolen smiled at the sight of so many young professionals who did not quite have the gold to live anywhere more upmarket—much like herself, she thought—living cheek by jowl amongst the more traditional residents. The scene was a microcosm of Soar itself, she thought: diverse, chaotic, and never entirely on the move.

And then it was finally her turn. Pouring mana into stone and thinking 'Soar Museum', Karolen stepped through the shimmering portal and vanished.

*

Karolen had done her homework.

Her inventory was packed with page-upon-page of notes, questions and outright accusations she intended to explore with the once her investigation officially began. Of course, it had been so long since anyone competent had been allowed access to the museum's accounts that it may well be that what she had uncovered during her long hours of preparation was so much historical fluff. However, somehow, she doubted it. The level of 'creative' accounting, quadruple-entry bollocks and general numerical sneakiness that she had identified in the previous audit was not something that could be resolved on the QT.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

If anything, she was anticipating it having become a million times worse, and if this was true, Director Nuroon was being a very naughty boy indeed.

There was a familiar rush of pressure, and then Karolen stepped out of the portal and was at Soar Museum's main gates. A guard's station was to her left, and to the right was a dilapidated smoker's hut under which five or six museum employees were huddled out of the rain. Karolen smiled at that. Widespread, wholesale financial fraud was one thing, but apparently, even Grackle Nuroon drew the line at ignoring Health and Safety legislation.

There was already a long queue formed awaiting the museum's opening - it appeared several school trips had been organised this morning, and a clutch of harassed were being ritually tortured by baying children - so Karolen activated her cloak's camouflage ability in order to slip the chaos and to approach the giant man standing guard. The words Level 14 floated above his head, of which Karolen made a mental note. Buried in the last set of accounts was a stream of payments for expensive, bespoke . It may well be, of course, that some cost-saving measures had recently been instituted. However, she thought it more on brand for what she suspected that Nuroon was working with one of Soar's to invoice for one Class and receive another - splitting the considerable gold difference between them.

"Fuck off," the guard intoned as she switched off her camouflage. "There's a fucking queue."

"I'm Mehin. You should be expecting me."

The guard looked at her, no recognition at all flaring in his flat glare. "Are you deaf? Fuck. Off. There's a queue." He pointed back towards the school parties, one of which had constructed a makeshift crucifix and was, even now, nailing their hapless teacher to it.

"I tell you what, why don't we try all this again," Karolen said, triggering Mandatory Review and focusing it on the man blocking her way. This Skill forced its target to undergo a thorough and invasive review of their abilities and actions, disrupting their concentration and reducing their resolve. It also silenced the man and prevented all spell-casting and ability use for a five-minute duration. In theory, Karolen would also gain increased power for each ability the target was unable to use, but it did not seem that this poor chump had many Skills at all to call on.

"My name is Karolen Mehin, and I was asked to attend a meeting this morning with Director Nuroon. It may well be that this message has not been passed down to you, for which I am sure the Director will apologise profusely for the oversight. However, this doesn't help you out right now, sir. Because, as of one minute ago, you made the poor life choice to obstruct an in the course of their lawful business. I am sure you are aware - having no doubt undergone thorough training for your role of . . . standing still and looking menacing - this is a Stage Nine offence and carries with it all manner of unpleasant penalties. These are up to and including immediate incarceration for thirty years in the deepest, smelliest dungeon my office can find. And we do tend to get pretty creative about such things."

The guard opened his mouth to speak, but, of course, being 'silenced', no sound came out. His eyes bugged out pleasantly, though, Karolen thought.

"However, it's first thing in the morning, and I'm sure we are all not quite at our best -" the dying screams of a teacher whose cross had just been set alight was a useful soundscape to her broader point - "so if you would like to reconsider the advisability of your current position, I am willing for us to start again. Nod if you think that would be a simply splendid idea."

A meaty neck bobbed enthusiastically up and down.

"Excellent. Well," Karolen extended her hand, which made the big man quail backwards before hesitatingly extending his own to accept the preferred shake, "I am , and I would very much like you to let Director Nuroon know that I have arrived to begin the inspection."

"As impressive as your little show of dominance is, my dear, perhaps we can stop intimidating the help and get down to business?"

Karolen sprang around as the scratchy voice of Grackle Nuroon whispered in her ear. Panicked, she activated every one of her defensive Skills, causing even the teenagers indulging in a little light sacrificial slaughter to settle down at her display of power.

The stepped back from her shoulder and simply raised an ironic eyebrow as her attempts to blast him away washed over him like so much insubstantial air. "I am sure my can find you a Mana Potion to replace all of . . . . that," he said with colossal disdain. "Would you perhaps like a moment to freshen up before we begin, though? I do find discussions are more profitable without the stink of impotent Skill usage clogging up one's senses."

Without wasting a backward glance, Nuroon passed through the now-open gates and into the museum beyond. Feeling somewhat discouraged to have so manifestly lost the opening skirmish, Karolen moved to follow him. And with that, a series of unfortunate events were set in motion.