Verlon stood in front of a rather grandiose door on the ninth floor of the Continual. He took a deep breath before lightly rapping his knuckles on the door. A tall, extremely buff man decked out in full combat gear opened the door. The man had the bearing of a well-trained legionnaire, yet wore the ragtag mix of relic and armor that Seekers were known for. Curiously, he didn’t have a cross around his neck.
The man frowned. “You’re late.”
Verlon rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. He had promised no more than two weeks. It had been a bit extra since the two-week mark. “I ran into some trouble.”
The man nodded and backed out of the way. “The boss is waiting.”
The hotel room was an extravagant affair. The room was probably four times larger than his apartment and embodied an open-concept layout. The kitchen and living room took up a large amount of space with a small office-like set up in a corner. A massive window sat on the far wall exposing a grand view of Preshen and the Rhinegard. Nothing could be seen past the black wall thanks to its sheer height, but the view was impressive nonetheless.
The room had its normal bells and whistles, literally in this case seeing as the pipework had been woven through the room in what could only be called an art piece. The polished gas pipes let out a soothing melody thanks to the extra bits and baubles causing it to have an almost musical quality. The polished bronze stood out against the black and gold hues of the expensive room.
An elderly man sat in the office portion behind a desk covered in papers. His body didn’t quite match the age told by his face. His well-built body was only offset by the slight hunch as if he had spent long hours hunched over a table. He wore a dark trench coat with a button-up shirt just barely peaking over the neckline. No hair sat atop his head, seemingly having migrated to his full pointed beard. Curiously, a tan line of a pair of goggles contrasted with the man’s rather tan face.
The man’s arm was the most eye-catching thing about him. A mess of cogs and brass covered the entire arm with what looked to be the occasional hydraulic bars laced alongside the metal. Verlon had seen it twice now, and he still wasn’t sure if it was a prosthetic or some kind of armor. Either way, it looked fairly badass if a bit uncomfortable. Really, that description fit his employer to a tee.
His employer was named Doctor Daniel Jackson, though he had a feeling the name was made up. Verlon didn’t care too much. He wouldn't press too hard if his employer wanted to remain unknown. Some people enjoyed an air of mystique to them.
“Why if it isn’t Verlon Boreal.” The man’s voice was upbeat which didn’t match the almost permanent scowl on his face. “I thought you had died after you didn’t return by your deadline?”
Verlon walked over, ignoring the bodyguard who stayed next to him like a fly. “Sorry, sir. I ran into some trouble with a Gargantian.”
The man looked surprised. Or impressed? It was hard to read his scowl-set face. “And you’re still alive? Please, sit and do tell.”
“It didn’t see me, but I was unfortunate to be on its back for a time.” Verlon took the offered seat across the desk from his employer.
“Ah, I see.” The doctor rubbed his long black beard. It must’ve been dyed black considering the wrinkles across his face. “That makes sense. Even white crosses have trouble with Gargantians…”
“Oh?” He had never heard anything about white crosses interacting with Gargantians. Granted, he hadn’t really paid very much attention to the living legends. Most of his time had been spent trying to stay alive, training, or spending time with his sister.
The man nodded sagely. “Some time ago the legion attempted to take one down… but enough about that. Tell me, how were the fruits of your labor?”
“I did find a ruin. It was buried pretty far below the surface of the Floating Mesa, but a cave led me right to the roof.”
Dr. Jackson’s face lit up, slightly changing the scowl into a frown. “Really?! Yes! My years of research really paid off!” The man opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of… whiskey, maybe? Verlon wasn’t too well versed with alcohol even though he was past the legal age. It cost too much money, and he feared an addiction. He had seen alcohol ruin many a Seeker in his short tenure.
“I mean, I knew it would work! Clyde, go fetch us some glasses! We must celebrate!”
“Yes, sir.” The bodyguard moved off to the kitchen. So Clyde was his name? The man had never introduced himself, and Verlon hadn’t bothered to ask.
Dr. Jackson pulled a map free from the mess of papers and handed over a pen. “Will you mark down the cave entrance? Did you go in? What was it like? Do you know how big it is? How about its- sorry, sorry. I should probably let you answer, yes?”
Verlon pulled out his journal and checked the cave’s entrance before marking it down. “Um, I did go inside. I blew through the rubble-covered roof with some dynamite. It dropped into a massive rotunda somewhere between two and three hundred feet tall…”
He continued to describe the ruin and almost everything he did in it as the other two took shots. The doctor seemed particularly interested in the golden statue and the inscriptions, which he copied onto a piece of paper for his employer. Thankfully, the man didn’t seem to mind that he kept some spoils from the ruin. Finders keepers was the typical rule for Endenheim, though he could never be too sure when working under someone.
He left out the part about the Biotic Bundle and Ai. It was better not to say anything considering they were ingrained into his body by this point. He didn’t hide everything, however, and pulled out the vial of liquid and the medal. “I found these in there. Do you have any idea what this is?” He asked as he handed over the vial.
The doctor picked up the vial and looked at it for a moment. “This should be a Combat Stim. While they aren’t exactly rare, they are very nice to have. There are approximately two injections per vial, and each one promotes regeneration and muscular reactions for up to an hour. After that, the user's body crashes and the user needs to rest at least eight hours to recuperate. As for the medal, it should be a Fire Officer’s badge.”
“Phoenix Captain.” Verlon idly replied as he looked at the vial with renewed light. Such a thing would be quite useful knowing the high likelihood of injury in Endenheim. Of course, he had heard of Combat Stims, but this was the first time he had seen one made by the Empyreon Kingdom. Most of the time the ones for sale were almost cheap knockoffs made by alchemists and pharmacists of the empire. Their cons typically far outweighed their benefits, so he-
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“What?” Dr. Jackson looked quite surprised.
Realizing his slip up Verlon tried to think quickly. “O-oh, I recognized the symbol from my parent’s research notes… It's the mark of the Empyreon military’s Phoenix Captain.”
Dr. Jackson nodded for a moment as he looked down at the medal. He seemed far more interested in it than the vial. “I see, I see… where are your parents? I would greatly like to have a conversation with other researchers, you see.”
“T-they disappeared in Endenheim three years back… purple crosses both, presumed dead. I found the symbol in some of their research notes.” Verlon tried to throw off the sudden sadness at thinking about his parents. Now wasn’t exactly the right time for grief. Granted, no time felt like the right time…
“Ah, my condolences. Well, if you happen to find any more research regarding the Empyreon military - or even the Empyreon Kingdom in general - I would love to see it. I’ll pay a fair price, I assure you. But enough about that, what happened next?”
“I must have tripped the alarm when I grabbed the badge and Combat Stim. Before I realized what was happening, I heard banging from down the hall and the ringing of an alarm. I escaped rather quickly after that. Thankfully the defensive unit was trapped behind a security door. I just barely got out of the ruin as I met its gaze. It was dark, but the creature looked almost like a human.” He still got a chill just thinking about the thing’s eerie red eyes.
The doctor wrote it down as he did for most of the information Verlon had shared. “You are lucky to be alive, young man. The thing you described was probably a high-tier automaton. The closer to humans they appear, the more dangerous.” He looked off to Clyde. “We need to bump up the threat level of the raid to blue- purple, just to be safe.”
Clyde nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll change it when I go tomorrow.”
Verlon figured the doctor would send a raid team into the ruin, so it didn’t come off as much of a surprise. What was surprising was the threat level of the raid. He survived a tier-six threat, which was quite surprising considering how weak he was compared to a Purple Cross. To be fair, he only survived thanks to the security door and that the automaton didn’t chase him. But still.
“Now, how would you like to accept a new contract? I need to find another ruin with my formula. Once could be a coincidence.” The doctor asked as he pulled a heavy sack of coins from his desk.
Verlon’s eyes eagerly locked onto his pay, though he paused a moment upon hearing the doctor’s request. After thinking about it for a brief moment, he decided to sell out the location of the ruin in the mountains. “Um… I might’ve spotted another ruin after my run-in with the Gargantian-”
The doctor eagerly held up a hand. “Don’t say it!” He pulled yet another map, though this one was pockmarked with complicated math formulas and the occasional dot. The Graviton Highlands in particular had several dots all over it. Verlon waited nearly fifteen minutes as the doctor did more math before handing over the map. “Do you see it here?”
He looked at the map briefly, then shook his head. “No, it was near the top of the middle mountain in the Three Peaks.”
“Damn… it seems I still need to work on my formula…” The doctor marked the Three Peaks and the Floating Mesa with a green dot.
Verlon hesitated for a moment before pointing towards one of the dots in the Steamglade. “Um, there is a ruin here. I stumbled across it about a year back.”
He was quite surprised to see it. The ruin had been where he located his Boosting Boots, though he had never told the Sekorium about it. He originally had plans to go back and loot it further, but the ruin appeared nothing more than a farm or something and had little items of value.
“Two for two is quite good!” Dr. Jackson marked the Steamglade’s ruin with a green mark too as he handed over the bag of coins.
Verlon checked it and counted the money. Four silver notes, each worth a hundred silver coins, sat atop a pile of a hundred silver coins. It was a lot of money, roughly equal to fifteen runs into Endenheim. He multiplied his investment by five times. To put into perspective how much money that was, most normal civilian jobs only made about seven or so silver coins a fortnight.
Dr. Jackson pulled another silver note from his drawer and handed it over. The money was basically a silver piece of paper stamped with the portrait of Emperor Ludwig III. “We won’t have to hire a scout to check that spot out now.”
Verlon carefully grabbed the note and put it into the bag. “Thank you, sir.” He hadn’t expected to get paid for the information. He was more hoping to impress his employer than anything. It never hurts to have friends in high places, after all. And there was no doubt Dr. Jackson was very high up considering the cost of the hotel and how freely he gave out money. That didn’t even mention the information he would need to have access to for his ruin formula.
“Umm, about that new contract. I try to space out my voyages into Endenheim by two weeks or so. I have a little sister, you see, and-”
“Say no more. I understand.” Dr. Jackson sighed. “We’ll be leaving in another two weeks, so I’m afraid it will be too late by then. Very well, it was nice working with you, Mr. Boreal. You handled the contract far better than I originally hoped. I will write a recommendation to the Sekorium to promote you to Green Cross.”
“Really? Thank you, sir!” A promotion was far outside of his expectations. It was something no amount of money could buy and therefore far more valuable than the pay.
Dr. Jackson laughed. “Of course! I value skill highly.” He paused for a moment and tilted his head. “And, erm, if you find more research regarding the Empyreon Kingdom, I will gladly pay you…” He pulled a card out and handed it over. It was entirely black with a fancy gold script on it. “Take this to the Sekorium, and someone will know how to reach me.”
The card read out “Doctor Opin Tavius” and had a series of numbers along the bottom along with a few symbols he couldn’t make heads or tails of. The only one he recognized was the sun reflecting along a sword: the Legion of Dawn.
The symbol came from the famous Dawn Breaker, a sword so powerful that it was said to defeat enemies with its very presence. Even just reading the inscriptions along the spine of the blade could make enemies of the user submit. The Dawn Breaker was more of a legend these days considering it had long been lost, assuming it was even real to begin with. Could just be more imperial propaganda.
Doctor Opin Tavius, ay? The doctor had been using a false name. Not too surprising. It seemed the doctor was indeed a big wig, though way more than Verlon had originally guessed considering the man’s affiliation with the legion. “Thank you, sir. I’ll notify you if I find anything else, though I can’t promise anything. I still have yet to read through all of their journals.”
While it was true he had yet to read through his mother’s notes, he doubted he would find anything too crazy. He did still have access to information through Ai though. It was difficult to get anything out of the device, but considering it was from the Empyreon Kingdom its info was very likely to be true.
He respectfully stood up, stored the bag of coins in his satchel, and made his way to the door. “Sir.” He nodded one last time before making his way out of the hotel room.
Clyde stopped him before he could get too far down the hall. “Don’t go flashing that card willy-nilly. The doc has put some trust in you, for some reason. Don’t betray it.”
Verlon almost saluted the man. If the doctor was from the military, there was a high chance Clyde was too. He was probably in disguise for the same reason Doctor Tavius was. “Of course. I would be a fool.”
“Good.” Then the big man shut the door without a glance back.
Verlon sighed deeply as he wearily made his way to the elevator. The meeting had dragged at his nerves quite a bit more than he anticipated. He couldn’t wait to get back and sleep in his own bed.
Still, he had things he needed to do. His usual armory was next on the list, and he may as well check out the auction house since he would be in the area. Something there might catch his fancy. Then it would be dinner with Nicole and his sister. He really needed to feed the Heartbloom to Robin sooner rather than later. Hmm… she probably wouldn’t be okay with eating a heart… maybe make it into a stew? He’ll have to think more about it during the rest of his chores…