Even tapping into a Skill that significantly boosted her Stamina, Karolen found keeping up with the spindly little man a challenge. Nuroon scampered on ahead of her, moving through hallways and opening doorways with a speed that belied his apparent age. Despite doing her best to keep track of the twists and turns of their progress, Karolen was not certain she would have been able to find her way back should the suddenly speed up even further and leave her behind.

That thought - coupled with a pertinent memory of those unexplained vanishings of previous - caused Karolen to find further reserves of speed to keep Nuroon close. She was, thus, moving at quite a pace when turning a blind corner, she was brought to a crashing halt by the sudden, unexpected appearance of a staircase leading up to the first floor.

"Do mind your step, Ms Mehin," a sarcastic voice called down from the top of the stairs.

Karolen took a moment to collect herself before answering. Things had not begun in the way she had planned, and this undignified sprint through dusty, abandoned corridors was leaving her considerably bad-tempered. "Director Nuroon!" she called upwards, her tone sharper than she had intended, but not feeling too sorry for that right now.

"Yes, Ms Mehin?" he replied, emphasising the sibilance of 'Ms' as if he were in the middle of transforming into a giant python. Which, as far as she knew, was something of which he was potentially capable. To Karolen's mind, far too few specifics had been recorded regarding the Skillset of the . Indeed, records of the abilities of the previous Director of the Soar Museum had been destroyed in an unexplained fire many years before - she had checked - and it did not appear anyone had pressed the current occupant to share his Stat Sheet. It was just one of the many reasons why everyone Karolen had consulted about this audit had suggested she ran for the hills.

Well, it was too late for that now.

"How about we agree on something right out of the gate, Director Nuroon? I will refer to you by your professional title, and you will afford me the same courtesy."

Nuroon cocked his head to one side, looking nothing so much like a defeathered vulture, and smiled. It was a smile Karolen could have done without in her life. "Ah, so you're one of those young women?"

"One of 'what' women, Director?" she said, making her way up the stairs to stand next to him. Karolen was not tall, but as she reached the top step, she was a little shocked to realise she towered over him. It hardly seemed credible that just one word from this man was considered to make and break most careers in the creative arts.

"Oh, you know," he said, making a complicated gesture with his spidery fingers, "all iron knickers, and affirmative action and having it all until your biological clock explodes, and then it's babies, babies all the time."

Karolen opened her mouth to spit back a reply but then closed it, smiling broadly. Truculent and misanthropic, certainly, but Nuroon was not known for his casual misogyny. That he was choosing to play that card in their first meeting suggested he thought it would benefit him somehow. Maybe her arrival had him more rattled than he appeared? Mindful of this, she adopted her most sincere, patient tone. "I think, Director, it would serve us both if we left consideration of my knickers for another occasion. Perhaps our time would be better spent if you were to show me to the office from which I will work during the audit?"

Something flashed over Nuroon's face, but Karolen was unable to properly read the expression before he turned her back on her and flung open the single door before them. "Quite. I was thinking of putting you in here."

Karolen kept her face meticulously still as she regarded a room that, clearly, the better-quality brooms had already rejected. In her experience, audits tended to go one of two ways. Either the recipient could not do enough for you - coffee, cake and you were based in the CEO's office - or you were made to feel as unwelcome as a split condom at an orgy. It appeared Nuroon had decided to go all in on the latter option.

"I might suggest, Director, that most people feel it appropriate to provide me with at least a chair. Some even break the bank and make arrangements for a table."

"Really? Strange and mysterious are the ways of those of Soar. Are you saying this room will not be suitable for your purposes? In that case, as I am afraid space is at a premium with the new exhibitions due to open, it sounds like it might be best if we reschedule. How are you fixed for this time next year?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Karolen stared down into his reptilian eyes and shook her head. "No, not at all. I was merely musing aloud. You see, it is a funny thing about my process: the poorer my working conditions, the slower I tend to work. Why," she said studiously, peering inside the tiny cupboard, "I could imagine this inspection could take three, maybe even four weeks in such circumstances."

*

Funnily enough, a more suitable base of operations opened up almost immediately. This far bigger office had not only a table and chair but also running coffee and a spectacular view of the inner courtyard.

Seeing the almost magical grandeur of the gardens below the window, Karolen's mind flew to the total lack of any mention of or relevant upkeep expenses for such a beautiful panorama being declared in the museum's records. This was especially noteworthy as there were all sorts of corporate 'Green' grants available to businesses in Soar. The Mayor had realised that a section of his electorate would vote for a scrotum with a moustache painted on it, provided there were vague promises to scratch the 'sustainable living' itch. It was, therefore, highly suspect Nuroon hadn't sought to defray the maintenance costs of the veritable jungle she was looking at here.

However, before she had a chance to think much about that, two new faces appeared at her door, accompanied by the Director, and insisted she accompany them on a 'tour of the facility'.

The younger of the two, Martha Culloden, was the , ultimately responsible for protecting and restoring all the museum's exhibits, using both mana-based and mundane techniques. Karolen knew the woman by reputation and sensed that might be mutual, judging by Martha's tight smile and nervous laughter when they met. If, as she suspected, Soar Museum had more relics on paper than they did in their vault, then Culloden would be first in the firing line. Thus, her presence during the audit was necessary and expected, but that was certainly not the case for the second of her visitors.

Kelvin Kregg, the museum's , was very much an unwelcome addition to proceedings. Karolen might have expected to have to deal with the smooth-talking man in the cheap suit at the very end of her investigation when there was spinning to be done, but she couldn't for the life of her see why Nuroon had chosen to put him in her path right now.

The tour, such as it was, consisted of Director Nuroon storming on ahead, hissing out limited commentary on the displays and the exhibits, while Culloden murmured about where they had been acquired from and what steps had been taken to ensure they remained in prime condition. Kregg, who had positioned himself in the blind spot of her right shoulder, seemed content to add occasional 'hmms' of approval at a particularly famous or impressive works of art. Nevertheless, with Nuroon leading the way and Kregg and Culloden crushed against her on both sides in the tight corridors, Karolen couldn't shake the feeling that she was a prisoner being marched to their place of execution.

"But of course, it is not those minor fripperies that are going to be the focus of your audit, are they?" Nuroon said, pulling up short in front of a giant bronze door and pressing his hand against it, channelling his mana to open the lock.

Karolen, again, did her best to keep her face still, but even then, Nuroon made out the glint in her eyes.

"The Great Hall," he continued, pushing the door open and standing at its threshold, "home to the greatest collection of magical artefacts in the known world. I flatter myself that if the Celestial Temple is the heart of modern Soar, then what is to be found beyond this portal is where our past - and perhaps our future - is to be found."

"Bravo!" Kregg said enthusiastically, clapping his hands in an oddly sealion-like manner. Karolen genuinely could not understand what he was adding here.

But, right now, that didn't matter. This was what she was here to explore.

"The Trustees have not been able to access the Great Hall in almost half a year," Liando Verlan had told her, steepling her fingers in front of her face. "It may well be that the reasons we have been given to reject our requests for supervisory visits are accurate. There has been talk of structural repairs being required, for example. However, we are concerned that such assurances hide something more nefarious."

The had leant forward then, and the intensity of her expression had struck Karolen. "It goes without saying that Grackle Nuroon is corrupt. This is Soar, and none of us are so naive as to believe anything else could possibly be the case. However, whilst - over many years - we have turned a blind eye to his peccadilloes, it is our opinion that something, of late, has changed. And we are certain it has to do with the artefacts within the Great Hall. I couldn't care less if you find he's embezzled a king's ransom in gold to decorate his fucking toilet. But I want to know what is happening with the relics in the Great Hall."

"Are you coming, my dear?"

At the sound of that scratchy voice, Karolen's mind was dragged back to the present, meeting the eyes of the Director, his head cocked in that strange, animalistic way.

There was suddenly soft pressure on her back, and Kregg was pushing her through the door. "I hope you know what an honour this is, Auditor Mehin," he said in his braying voice. "It is rare indeed for anyone to get access to the inner sanctum of Soar's Museum. Why, I've heard it said some people would kill to get a peek at what's in here!"

Further narrative commentary here on the nature of irony and the Law of Sod seems somewhat redundant.