Kint was in a daze as he exited HQ.
The two Inspectors made their way to the Root System, Elsha bumping past Kadenites, ignorant to their complaints.
They descended a flight of stone stairs into a tunnel, exiting out to a large waiting platform. The room was an unadorned gray, blending into a rich brown wood. The tunnels of the Root system were carved from the roots of the Stalwart Tree itself. A perfect metaphor for the kind of progress that made Kint uncomfortable.
He glanced at his partner and frowned. There was no solace in her anxious eyes.
A low vibrating hum rippled through the platform as a windowless white cylinder glided quietly in front of the waiting citizens. Glass doors slid back with a hiss, allowing them to enter the sparsely peopled Tube.
The Inspectors wandered to the back, sitting next to each other in a field of open seats.
Their backs pressed into chairs as the vessel accelerated.
Kint glanced at partner.
She was barely blinking. Eyes staring to the front of the carriage.
It was two hours to The Core.
Two hours in limbo with only worries to warm them.
He gritted his teeth.
How had this happened?
He’d spent years working diligently to be as unremarkable as possible.
But the honor of a lifetime had arrived at his door anyway…
Why?
Kint glanced at Elsha.
She seemed to share his sentiments, chewing her lip in consternation.
His partner had her own reasons to stay low. No Blessed of Kaden City stock would voluntarily work as a District Inspector unless they were running from something.
Kint had never asked what that something was, but based on her expression, this mission would likely bring them closer to it.
The secrets they kept from each other made the long Tube ride doubly uncomfortable. Neither could soothe the others' worries without acknowledging their existence. So they sat in silence drowning in private pools of dread.
It was over an hour before their cursed silence was finally broken, a dozen raucous patrons entered the Carriage.
They’d reached the Shade. The Districts closest to the Stalwart Tree, basking in the forever night of its canopy.
Districts in the Shade were bastions of culture. Trading in arts, music, and revelry, while promoting intellectual and Scholarly pursuits as well.
The Shade Districts were the only places in the Noveriat where Kadenites, Blessed, and clergymen came together in productive harmony.
Prosperity was inevitable.
The room began to fill. The mood in the cabin shifting with the new patrons.
None dared go near the two inspectors however, even as the room grew crowded. The aura of anxiety kept them at bay.
A group of Church Scholars got the closest, sitting four rows in front of them.
Kint frowned, noticing their gold and jewelry.
Being a priest in the high ranking Districts was mostly about politics and power. Spreading the good word was a distant third.
The group kept to themselves, however, passionately discussing interpretations of the 5th Tenet, and how far the definition of ‘sin’ might stretch.
Maybe these ones weren’t so bad…
The Tube stopped again.
A group of four young men, in the gold and blue military outfits of House Korth stepped on, several silken pleasure maidens in toe.
“Puffs.” Elsha snorted beside him.
Kint looked closer at the men, seeing their uniforms were accented with lace at the cuffs and neck.
In house Korth, they would be called ‘Puffs’, Blessed men who’d forgone the traditional military lifestyle of the house to a more comfortable life of revelry.
They sat two rows ahead, laughing and joking. But they made no trouble.
At the third stop in the Shade, three men stumbled in. They wore bright colors of no particular house, clothes torn in ways that could be fashion.
Kint grimaced as the three sat in the aisle next to Elsha.
They spoke in brash tones, drawing irritated looks from the Priests ahead. Even the Puff’s seemed put off.
The Tube accelerated.
Kint kept an eye on the new patrons.
They were snickering, casting leering glances at his distracted partner.
“Um excuse me, Miss.”
The closest man spoke across the aisle.
“Excuse me… Inspector.” He repeated.
Elsha stared to the front of the Tube, unresponsive.
The young man frowned. He wasn’t used to being ignored.
His friends laughed at his failure.
“I thought Inspectors were supposed to be observant.” The young man sneered.
His friends snickered again, egging him on.
“One of your betters is speaking to you, Inspector.”
The young man poked Elsha in the shoulder.
“Pay attention.” He growled.
Elsha blinked, returning to herself.
She turned at a glacial pace, facing the young man with startled eyes.
“Well she’s not deaf.” The Blessed joked. “Although she might be daft.”
Another chorus of cruel laughter.
Elsha smiled, an innocent smile. As if she didn’t recognize she was the but of the joke.
“I’m terribly sorry, my lord.” She started, earnest. “I did not mean to offend. I sometimes lose myself in flights of fancy.”
Kint frowned, confused.
She was acting like some sort of vapid courtier. Nothing like what he was used to.
“I just– Men of such class as yourself so rarely approach me.” She complimented. “I never imagined you could be talking to me…”
She was blushing…
Kint raised an eyebrow.
“I…I…” The young man stammered, finally noticing how beautiful she really was.
“My lord.” She cut in, leaning forward. “Was there something you wished to ask of me?”
The man’s mouth dropped. He pushed a hand through his dark hair, composing himself.
“Yes, well. I– I wanted to introduce myself.” He said, clearing his throat. “I’m Carl Inkhold Clauson. Ascending scion of the Inkhold family.”
He puffed out his chest when giving his family name.
Elsha’s mouth opened in interest, spurring the man on.
“And… and I was wondering if I might… If you would permit me the pleasure of calling on you.”
“Oh, my lord.” She gave a seductive smile. “The pleasure would be mine, certainly.”
It was the young man’s turn to blush.
“But my lord…” She demurred. “A man of your station should not be seen calling on one such as I. I should be courting you.”
“I–...” The young man trailed off. He’d obviously never gotten this far before without paying.
One of his friends jostled him from behind, spurring him on.
“But of course, Lady Inspector.” He collected himself. “I would be happy to… service you– sorry. Be of service, any time you call.”
“My lord!” She exclaimed, blushing again.
The boy grinned, proud of his wordplay.
“Lady Inspector, what is your name?” He inquired. “So that I might tell my servants to expect you.”
“I could not possibly say,” She replied, embarrassed.
“Come now…” He assured her. “Just a whisper. I won't tell.”
The two leaned toward each other.
Elsha reached out with her left hand, brushing it through the young man’s hair. It stopped on his neck, caressing it playfully.
“My name…” She whispered. “Is Elsha Vorva Gray.”
The lordling’s eyes widened. He tried to pull back, but Elsha gripped him tight by the throat.
“Your– your a Gray.” He stammered, sweat beading on his forehead. “And your father is… Kafalan Gray?”
“The very same.” She cooed, sharp nails caressing his jugular. “Now… My father has agreements with many of the smaller houses of the Inkhold family, and I believe the Clauson’s are one of them, yes?”
The boy nodded, face going pale.
“Hmm…” She pondered. “What do you think my father would do if I told him how you’ve treated me today?”
Carl swallowed.
“Do you think he’d be happy, young scion?”
The boy shook his head.
“No… no he wouldn't.” She confirmed. “But, I won’t be telling him. Since, even mentioning your name in his presence would elevate you at court.”
The boy began to relax, but stopped when Elsha gripped him tighter.
“But, what I will do.” She whispered. “Is keep a close eye on you, Carl Clauson.” Her thumb nail caressed his chin. “Our networks are both deep, and wide. And if I hear that you’ve been causing trouble for any other young ladies, I won’t tell my father… I’ll call on you directly… and it will not be pleasant.”
She let go.
The boy's face was sheet white. He swiveled stiffly back to his seat.
Him and his friends made no further sounds.
“Feeling better?” Kint asked, amused.
She thought about it for a moment.
“Yes. Quite a bit, actually.”
Kint grinned.
“I’ve never heard you use your family name like that.” He commented.
“I know, I really shouldn’t have.” She sighed, grimacing. “Ugh, father’s bound to hear about this. He’s got Creepers everywhere.”
“You think he could get us out of this mission?” Kint asked playfully.
“Certainly not.”
She gave him a smile that did not reach her eyes.
“But, I don’t think we need to worry too much.” She soothed.
“We’re meeting with a Lord, Elsha.” Kint grumbled. “There’s bound to be trouble.”
Elsha raised an eyebrow.
“You know, for most people, this would be the honor of a lifetime.”
“I’m Forty-Five.” He said, flatly. “Honors and accolades are wasted on me. I just want stability.”
“You think I don’t want the same?” She questioned, irritated. “I quite like how things are… I’m just saying, a Black Sealed summons isn’t the kind of call to adventure they make it out to be. If a command comes in a Black Seal, a good Lord will have chosen an emissary with the skills to carry it out…”
“And what might those skills be?”
“I’m still working that out.” She grimaced. “But Crecious must see something we don’t. He is a genius after all.”
“Is he?” Kint questioned. “I thought that was just propaganda.”
Elsha shook her head.
“He’s the real deal.” She confirmed, “A friend of mine says Crecius is a generational mind. Just below Fadien.”
“Really?”
Fadien was the architect of modern life in Kaden City. Designer of every major invention from the Information Network to the Root System.
“Is this friend of yours a trustworthy source?” Kint interrogated. “He’s not just some layabout from the Shade is he?”
“Oh he is that.” She grinned. “But he’s also the Lord of the 4th Doene District.”
“Fair enough.” Kint shrugged. “What else does he say about our Lord? Anything useful?”
She put a finger to her lips in thought.
“Fatcher says he’s too trusting. Easily manipulated.” She answered. “Though, I doubt that’s true anymore.”
“Why’s that?”
“A trusting Lord would never last in the Ignatium.” She replied. “Crecius has been in power for fifteen years now, so he must have some tact.”
Kint nodded slowly, his nerves calming a bit.
It wasn’t much, but at least they weren’t going in blind.
The final stop came a few minutes later.
The two Inspectors stood making their way to the door.
They exited, joining the flow of people bustling off the platform.
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The Inspectors were pushed out into a gray tunnel, pressed toward a stairway shrouded in yellow light.
As they crested the top of the stairs, Kint froze.
People spat slurs in his direction as he became an obstacle to their path, but he didn’t care.
Elsha looked back at him and smiled.
“Welcome to The Core.”
Kint stared into the sky of the enormous hollowed out center of the Stalwart Tree. A thousand crystal chandeliers shone yellow light down upon them. In between those lights, were massive cylindrical glass tubes that extended from the floor, thousands of feet into the misty ceiling above. Within the pillars, platforms rose and fell, carrying people to and from the Ignatium.
“Come on.” Elsha urged, pulling him forward.
“Those are called Vines.” She explained, as they moved. “They can take you anywhere in the Ignatium.”
Kint gawked as thick steel beams pushed the Vine’s inner platforms from below.
“How do you know where they’re going?” He asked, not seeing any obvious signage.
“They’re arranged in concentric circles, each sectioned off like a pie. Every section represents one of the houses, and every circle represents a function: Research, Education, Entertainment, that sort of thing.” She explained.
They kept moving, Kint’s eyes catching on one marvel after another.
The Core was like a thousand District Squares in one. There were hawkers, artists, great sculptures, and impressive magics all around them. Food stands packed with people dotted every turn. Sculptures of glass and stone reached to the sky, dazzling in every curve.
“Where are we heading?” Kint asked.
“We’re going to the Vorvan District Capitol, in the center circle.”
Kint’s eyes were alight with wonder.
He was usually averse to the ‘miracles’ of the Apostles, seeing the sacrifices they made in the name of progress. But this… this was different.
“Not so bad in the Blessed world, is it old man?”
“If things like this were all your people did, the world would be blessed indeed.”
“Fair enough.” She shrugged, seeding the point.
“Where do those go?”
Kint pointed to a Vine whose platform was sinking instead of rising. The citizens standing, clearly laborers.
“They’re heading to The Pyre.” She replied.
“They Pyre?”
“Below us are many layers of hidden magical technologies that support the Core and the city above.”
“Looks like fun…” He grumbled.
“Most certainly not.” She agreed. “But, it pays well and the Overseers are happy to do it.”
“I’m sure…” Kint frowned, doubting that anyone would be happy working in a place called The Pyre.
“What else is down there?” Kint asked, pointing to several Blessed who’d stepped onto the platform at the last minute.
“Oh, just a few tunnels.” She gave him a secretive smile.
“Tunnels?”
He raised an eyebrow.
She nodded.
“That’s where the real secrets are kept.” She grinned. “A massive network of hidden tunnels, extending all throughout the city.”
“Do these tunnels have a name?”
“They wouldn’t be much of a secret if they did?” She replied.
“They don’t seem like a secret at all.”
“Here we are.” Elsha pointed to a Vine marked with the Owl and Quill of House Vorva.
There were over a dozen people waiting on the lift, ranging from powdered businessmen to priests.
A tall man with a golden tree sigel of an Overseer emblazoned on his chest stood by the door, ushering them through.
Once the Inspectors were on the platform, the Overseer put his hand to the glass of the Vine.
Kint watched in amazement as the opening in the glass that had acted as a door, slid closed by no mechanism he could see.
The Overseer removed his hand from the glass, moving to the center of the platform to stand behind a small control panel with a large clear crystal set in it’s center.
He placed a hand on the clear stone, concentration marking his face.
Kint stumbled slightly as the platform began to rise.
Elsha grinned at his discomfort.
She tapped him on the shoulder, directing him to the edge of the lift.
He followed, watching the bustling crowds fall away, as they ascended into the unnatural mists above.
Kint desperately wanted to dowse the unnatural clouds and so much else inside the Core, but he held himself back.
“Look.”
Elsha pointed to the right.
The Inspectors eyes widened.
There were shadows moving in the mist.
He squinted as one of the shapes approached.
It was a young man. Just a teenager really.
He was flew among the clouds like a bird, dodging in and out between the vines.
The boy stopped, catching Kint’s eye. He floated in front of their Vine, throwing a condescending grin at the ground bound Inspector.
He seemed to hear something in the distance, turning and moving away towards a larger group of shadows.
“It’s the shoes.” Elsha commented, drawing his attention to them.
Kint looked closer, seeing the glint of blue crystals attached to the boys boots.
“Even the clumsiest Wind Weaver can fly with those.”
“Incredible.” He muttered. He couldn’t help it.
“Crecius invented them.” She noted.
Kint gave her a skeptical eyebrow.
“Genius.” She said with a shrug.
He had to agree.
The light changed as they neared the ceiling, heading for a hole above.
The world went black. The only light in the cylinder was the yellow glow of the crystal beneath the Overseer’s hand.
It was several minutes, before two doors slid open above them, subjecting the group to a dazzling cloudless sky.
“Welcome to the Ignatium.” The Overseer said, as the passengers began stepping off the platform.
Kint blinked repeatedly, eyes adjusting to the harsh light.
He had pause again, as the Vorvan Branch Capitol was laid out before him.
The path ahead was half a mile long and 100 feet wide. Every step laid with marble and lined with towering redwood trees, creating a corridor.
He glanced at Elsha.
There was no wonder on her face. Just anxiety and determination.
“Come on.” She said, jostling him forward.
They made their way down the glistening marble street in silence. It was a struggle not to gawk, Blessed men and women flew overhead. His eyes opened further when he spotted where they were landing.
The Vorvan Capitol was a marvel of magical construction. The exterior was made from stacking spirals of purple glass and marble, swirling dozens of stories high. His eyes followed the ascending design, to where it unfurled at the roof, waterfalls descending from lily petals to fall into a surrounding moat.
They crossed a bridge over the moat, moving through massive double doors, inside.
They reached the center of the building, where twin helix staircases led to the floors above. Men and women flew between the stairwells, others rose using miniature rising platforms set into the floor like the Vines of The Core.
Some used the stairs, but most chose not to.
Magecraft was abundant here. Another reminder of the difference between the Blessed and the Kadenites.
They moved in silence, Elsha leading the way through curved halls.
Kint began to sweat, his partners rigid determination was bringing his anxiety up once again.
The reached the end of the corridor, arriving at an extremely wide waiting area of sorts.
There were a set of benches along the inside wall, for them to sit.
The wall opposite them was made from magic glass. Similar to the Vines earlier, it had no visible door.
The room behind the glass had to be massive, to extend so far across.
The two Inspectors sat, stewing in renewed nervous tension.
Kint’s eyes locked onto the wall ahead quickly noticing an odd pattern making it’s way across the glass.
Purple and black waves shimmered in constant motion across the wall, obstructing the room behind. The two colors crashed into and overlapped each other like a battle of fresh and saltwater. It was mesmerizing. A welcome distraction.
After a few minutes, his entertainment stopped.
The glass becoming translucent in an instant.
Kint could make out a large, well adorned room beyond.
There were footsteps to the right.
The Inspectors turned, watching glass slide away for two Priests to step out.
They wore the gaudy gold and white robes Kint so disliked.
The men whispered to each other as they shuffled past, hoods drawn.
Another figure soon exited. A priest of far more rustic sensabilities.
He wore a nondescript gray robe, with a stern bearing.
The man turned back to the door, speaking final words into the room before bowing and making his exit.
As he walked to join his fellow clergymen, Kint got a look at the priest.
His eyes widened as their gazes met. The Priest hitched up, recognition plain in his silver eyes. He adjusted quickly, however, meeting up with his colleagues and disappearing around the corner.
Elsha stared at him skeptically.
“What?” Kint grumbled.
“You know him?” She asked. “You know Scepter Grayson?”
“Yes.” He replied, annoyed.
“Kint… He’s one of the youngest Sceptor’s in history.” She stated. “and one of the most powerful people in the Branch. How could you possibly know him?”
“We were in the Academy together.” Kint admitted, as if it were nothing.
“The Academy?” She repeated, eyes widening. “The Breylock Academy?”
Before Kint could answer, a rumbling voice spoke from the far side of the corridor.
“You may Entah.” An enormous man called.
Elsha gave him a look that said their conversation wasn’t finished.
The two Inspectors stood, approaching the door gingerly.
A massive Acolyte with dark skin and sleeveless robes stood at the entryway. It was clear what his purpose was. He was intimidating in every conceivable way.
The man looked down at them as they passed, face a mask.
The door sealed shut behind them, the dancing battle of purple and black beginning again.
Kint scanned the wide room.
The Lord's office was curved like the hall outside, and much deeper than he'd expected. It extended at least fifty paces before another color shifting wall shielded them from the outside. There was a large sitting area to the right, and beyond that, a workshop.
Half-baked projects, unfinished books, and easels covered in designs were cluttered in the massive space.
The room was dark, with the two crystal chandeliers generating a dim light, long shadows creeping across the floor.
Lord Crecius sat to their left, behind a wide Mahogany desk.
While Kint hadn’t expected Kalavan Korth, he was surprised by how unthreatening the man seemed.
He was slightly pudgy, brown hair balding at the top. Dressed in loose-fitting scholar's robes of Vorvan Purple, he certainly looked the part of his learned ancestors.
The man leaned over his desk, consumed by work, scribbling precise markings with a sharp pen.
A slender Acolyte stood behind the Lord, providing all the menacing atmosphere needed in the room. He was bald, with a long face, sharp nose, and deep set brown eyes. He wore a gray and black vest with a black shirt, and no jacket, marking him as an Executive. Only Acolytes of substantial rank were allowed to wear anything other than house colors.
The bald man gestured them to sit in stiff wooden chairs in front of the desk.
Kint rubbed sweaty palms along his pants as he lowered himself to the uncomfortable seat.
His brow furrowed.
He could feel a presence behind him, something dangerous.
The room was silent, but for the scritching of the lord's pen.
Kint risked checking over his shoulder to be sure.
His eyes went wide.
A sprawling dark substance hung in the air behind them.
The alien mass flowed, spreading and contracting in a thousand different directions, the dim light unable to pierce its thick weaves. Hundreds of enmeshed silk spindles curled around and through each other, slowly rippling in a wind Kint could not feel. The thing had a sinister air. Extremities extending like tentacles.
It felt alive, the way the pieces moved, coiling and uncoiling. Even with his knowledge in magical flows, Kint could not fathom its creation.
“It won’t hurt you.” The Lord cut through his distraction.
He looked up, but the man was already back to his scribblings.
Crecius raised his free hand.
“Inspectors…” The Executive began in a cultured tone. “You have been called upon by Lord Crecius Vorva, to complete a task under The Black Seal. Do you understand what this entails?”
Elsha gave a solemn nod. Kint was less confident.
“To a Kadenite, the Black Seal is the highest honor.” He explained. “It signifies that the Lord has a task and you alone have the attributes to carry it out.”
“I Beg your pardon.” Elsha cut in, drawing an annoyed look from the Acolyte. “But, what are those attributes… exactly?”
The Executive narrowed his eyes.
“Are you questioning our Lord’s judgment?”
She shook her head vehemently.
“No, no… Please… Continue.”
The stern man grimaced, but let the affront slide.
“Luckily for you Inspector Elsha, the subtlety of your mind is not why we sought you out.”
Kint’s hand tightened a bit on his left knee.
“In fact, Lord Crecius asks, is that you do your jobs.”
Elsha frowned, concerned.
“Then why–”
“Miss Gray.” The man snapped. “Once, can be forgiven, but to ques—”
Lord Crecius held up a hand, stopping the Acolyte in his tracks.
The Acolyte stepped back in deference.
The Lord’s rounded face rose slowly from the pages on his desk.
His head cocked to one side, tired eyes locked on Elsha’s, observing.
There was a weight to that gaze, a sharpness that spoke of intelligence, like he was dissecting her.
There was something else too…
An emotion that made Kint uncomfortable, but he couldn’t quite place it.
“Elsha… Gray…”
The Lord sounded out the words, tasting them.
He grimaced.
“Elsha Vorva Gray, correct?” He asked.
His voice had a nassaly quality to it, but that did not take away from its command.
“Yes, my Lord.” Elsha nodded.
Sweat coated her forehead.
“The rebel Gray… still causing trouble.”
He shook his head, clicking his tongue.
“You know, your father was a great help to me when I first took this office.” The Lord commented. “He bought some of my early designs. Gave me the money I needed for more… experimental projects.”
There was tense pause. His eyes never drifted from Elsha’s.
“Really?” Elsha replied, a tremble to her words. “He’s a difficult man to see.”
The Lord nodded, never blinking.
“He was very generous with me. Recognizing my talent early on.” He stated, “Not so early as your brothers, though.”
Elsha stiffened.
“They were my earliest patrons, back at the Holy institute.” The Lord grinned, remembering it fondly.
“They saw something in me. Took me under their wing when no one else would.” He continued. “They taught me many lessons… shared many secrets.”
Elsha sat painfully still, breath shallow. Like she was hiding from a predator.
“They told me of the fun you had as children.” He cooed, giving her a look full of meaning.
Her face paled.
Kint had never seen her like this. He felt his teeth grinding.
“After such a childhood, I suspect control is important for you.” He pondered. “The Kadenites make for such simple company. It makes sense that you’d choose to work with them.”
Her lip twitched. His words cut with every syllable.
“You’ve built a nice life in my district. A safe one.” He noted. “But, however far you’ve drifted, you are still Blessed. Still subject to the game, and while you are in my district you are under my thumb.”
A twitch of a smile chipping his stony face.
Kint worked his jaw, staring into the shifting darkness above. Fearing his expression would give him away.
“And you, Inspector...”
“Inspector Kint Archaedis, my Lord.” The Acolyte supplied.
“And you, Inspector Kint.” He began again, shifting his attention. “You seem to be more interested in my Shadow than my words.”
Kint schooled his face, leveling his gaze at the portly man. As their eyes met, he finally recognized what had been unsettling him.
Apathy.
The man was utterly bored.
Lowly Kadenite’s and wayward Blessed were unworthy of his time. It seemed the only entertainment he’d gotten so far was in torturing young Elsha.
“It’s an interesting toy, my Lord.” Kint gestured to the Shadow above.
He was unable to keep a hint of heat from his voice.
The room chilled to a shiver.
Quiet descended.
Noises he had not noticed, movements that had seemed innocuous, all stopped in an instant. Everything froze. The swirling colors on the windows, the Lord's “shadow” above, even the tiny flecks of dust that fell from the ceiling.
Lord Crecius’ face revealed nothing, but for a micro-twitch of pressurized fury below his eye.
“‘Toy’.” He spoke, voice hot. “Why ‘Toy’? Why that word?”
Kint’s anger fled. A cold sweat replacing it.
He couldn’t help it. In his reckless fury, he’d used the word he’d seen in the Sentinels missive this morning.
“I…” He stumbled. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it… I'm not much for words.”
The Lord’s eyes tightened on him, dissecting.
It was hard to fully comprehend the display of power occurring around him. It was obvious now, Lord himself had been controlling both the windows and the tentacled mass above with his magic. A feat that would kill a Waver Class Mage, accomplished with a thought. Then, to drop the temperature of the room so quickly... It seemed impossible. And yet it was happening.
The man was a Wind Weaver. A Master Class Mage.
After what seemed like an infinite space of time, the Lord glanced at Elsha, an idea coming to him.
“Do you have children, Inspector Kint?” The Blessed asked, voice cold.
“Yes, My Lord.” Kint replied, it was an effort to get the words out.
“A daughter.” The Lord said, not guessing.
Kint nodded.
A smile quirked the portly man’s lips. He raised a meaningful eyebrow. The threat was obvious. It didn’t need to be spoken.
He let the pause settle, then nodded.
“Discretion and Expediency. That is why you’re here.” The Lord stated, picking up his pen. “I don’t need ambition. The only reward you should expect is a painful death should you fail.”
His tired eyes roamed slowly between the two of them.
“Discretion.” He repeated, pointing the tip of his pen toward Elsha for emphasis.
“and expediency.” He finished, pointing the pen at Kint.
The Lord paused, making sure they understood.
Then… like nothing had happened, he returned to his work. The once threatening pen now scritching away at the paper beneath.
Kint felt his heart rate slow as the room returned to its normal temperature, the magical artifacts beginning to move again.
On cue, the bald Acolyte stepped forward.
“Two of Lord Crecius’ Acolytes have been murdered in the 11th Inkhold District.” The slender Executive began. “They were murdered in one of the Lord’s factory holding’s. They were both Crafter Class Mages, which leads us to believe they were killed by another Mage. The Lord has already deduced that this heinous crime is the work of an old rival, which makes your job easy. All you have to do is collect the evidence necessary to support his conclusion. Interview the witnesses, follow up on leads, and come back to us in three days time with a full report.”
The Acolyte paused, as if either of them would question him at this point.
“As my Master has stated, Discretion and Expediency are the goals. Do not speak of this to anyone not involved, and do not dally on leads that won’t support the Lord’s conclusion. Is this understood?”
His hollow eyes shifted between them.
They nodded.
“Good… then you will begin this afternoon.” He commanded.
He Reached into a pocket of his vest, pulling out two gold seals with the House Vorva crest on them.
“These are your Seals. They are proof of your mission. They will get you into any door outside those of the Five Apostles themselves."
The two Inspectors rose, grabbing a sigil each.
"You shouldn’t need to use them, but if you do, you’d better have a very good reason.”
He gave them a warning eye.
“We’ve sent Acolytes ahead to assist you, so don’t dally.”
Kint and Elsha stood, taking their cue.
“And Inspectors.”
They turned, meeting the bald man’s eyes.
“Do not fail us.”
The meeting was over.
“This way, Inspectors.” The towering Acolyte by the door called, ushering them out.