If you walk into the wrong part of Nolusberg you’ll be lucky to walk out with naught but your britches on boys, ‘course if you walk into the right part of town, or the really wrong part that’s fortunate instead. I’d tell you to keep your wits about you but knowing you lot that just ain’t gonna happen.

-Cautionary words from army Sergeant Peter Davies to his squad

Fourth day of the fifth week of Autumn, Eighth Bell of the Evening, The Talking Tankard…

Sylvia sat in one corner of her favorite inn, sipping on a glass of warm milk and listening to the locals gossip about events.

She was seldom around for the evening rush, usually having other activities planned for this time, and the mornings were inevitably taken up sleeping and assisting the orphanage, while the afternoons were when she sought and scouted her next midnight stroll.

Occasionally though, clients would seek her out, and after some checks to confirm that their request was legitimate and not an entrapment Justin would let a child runner lead them here, where Sylvia would meet them and accept requests that often came with lucrative remuneration.

Sylvia leaned back in her chair, she was well wrapped up to conceal her identity from the client and any others here, the withered, black flower that lay on her table the only identification she needed.

The gossip Sylvia picked up on was as lean as their bearers, the tavern’s patron’s muttering about the current hard times in subdued tones and angry tones.

Sylvia only sat up and took her crossed legs off the table when a black hooded individual joined her in the shadowy corner.

“I hear you are the one to speak to about procurement’s and deliveries of a complicated nature?” A voice of melted butter questioned.

Sylvia shrugged, most of her special requests came from nobles, and the nobility always had weird requests.

Deliver this flower to a baron’s bedside while he enjoys his tryst, suspend a sculpted dagger above this lady’s head while she slept, retrieve a seal and stamp a certain letter before replacing it and dropping the letter in a postbox three streets over, abduct a pet magdopine…

She had refused that job, cruelty to cute little fluffy animals crossed the line of work she was willing to take, no matter how unsavory their owners might be.

Sylvia slid a card across the table, “Request?” It read.

She never spoke to her clients, lest her voice betrayed her age or identity, something her requestors seldom thought about.

“I wish something retrieved my little rogue, your payment will be in gold, pure gold.”

The honeyed voice continued, “A person, a girl, lies entrapped within a cage of cold iron and earth, I wish you to bring them out. You, will bring them to me.”

Sylvia extended another card. ‘No Slavery’ it read.

“Fear not, I mean to free her, merely bring her out unshackled and your work will be done, I will leave payment in security box six-two-six at the merchant’s bank once I hear of your success, here is your key.”

As she finished speaking the woman slid a gilded key across the table to Sylvia with a gloved hand.

Sylvia tilted her head in confusion, something her potential employer picked up on.

“I heard that the Black Shadow could pass through any lock or barrier, was I wrong?” The warm voice asked.

Sylvia barely resisted the cringe that arose upon hearing the ghastly name Justin advertised her under, but her professionalism won through and Sylvia instead nodded her head in acknowledgement of the moniker, it was true after all, she had yet to meet any device crafted by locksmith or mage that could keep her out.

So Sylvia slid a new card across the table, “Job accepted, details required.” it read.

A brilliant white smile shone through the unnatural dimness of the Lady’s hood, female for sure, but Sylvia already knew that from her scent.

A hint of silver from within the hood showed briefly as the woman stood and placed a rolled and bound sheaf of papers on the table.

“One thousand gold royals upon completion.” She stated, before turning and leaving the tavern, confidant in the acceptance of her terms.

Whomever she was, she walked slowly away, controlling her gait and using the thick cloak to conceal her identity and even gender from any observers.

Sylvia gazed at the papers the the woman had left, there was a portrait of a girl, poorly drawn, and a rough map of Nolusberg with a location marked, it was not too far, but it lay solidly within Grakoan territory.

Sylvia shrugged to herself as she too rose and tucked the papers away, nobles were weird, and the money was good, very good.

Besides, she enjoyed the thrill of the challenge, and her instincts were telling her that this one would be entertaining.

…………………………………..

Same Time, an Undisclosed Location In the Nobles Quarter...

Emily watched as her two wards tousled and sparred with each other and the other training operatives on the practice field.

The half elf was all she required in a new recruit, strong, fast, intelligent and talented, he picked up techniques and weapons like he had been training with them for years, which according to his docket, he mostly had.

Yet he favored his daggers too much, however good he was with them, his magic was far too lacking to cover the mid to long range, sure it packed a punch, but it was horribly inefficient, two spears and he was reeling from mana loss, three and he was on the floor from overdraft, trust a man to favor a flashy strike over practicality.

No blooming stamina to kids these days. Well she would see about that, future training, maybe some gear, along with a decent mage teacher and of course lots of practice might set him straight and allow her to make a special operative of him yet.

Yet his partner...gave Emily a headache every time she looked at him. That..dwarf..was insufferable, he was not fast, was terrible with melee weapons despite some proficiency with magitech guns, he looked like a waddling barrel, and had somehow decided that she, of all people! Was a desirable romantic partner.

No matter how hard she put him down, or how many laps she made the fool run, the dwarf kept up his antics and made her life miserable, why couldn’t he give up already?

Emily stared down some other operatives who had been snickering while watching the dwarf gush over how lovely the moons were tonight in some ill fated attempt at flirting.

Thankfully her murderous gaze had been enough to make them stop snickering, straighten up and hastily get back to sparring.

She ignored the dwarf and fervently prayed to Lupo for some clouds, maybe a nice thunderstorm would dampen the dwarf’s spirits if she made him run the mud pits a few times in a cold rain.

Emily looked upwards, not a cloud to be seen, it was a beautifully clear night. Drat.

For a moment the stars reminded her of another time, she had been married once, and had a child hadn’t she?

The memories and faces were blurry and indistinct, they hovered at the edge of recollection, and Emily stood with her eyes closed for a moment as she tried to grasp the string of memory.

What were their names again? A sharp pain spiked through her head, interrupting her thoughts and causing her to shake her head to dispel it.

She focused back on the field, looking for targets to vent her frustration upon.

“Alright puppies, who’s ready to see if they can land a hit on me and skip the twenty mile run tomorrow?”

Several hands went up, all first years, such eager little things, the second years knew better and had backed right up.

Ah well, on to tonight’s victims.

Pained cries and solid thumps resounded from the field as Emily exacted a toll on the greenie’s pride.

………………………………………………

Same Time, Lesser Nobles District of the Nobles Quarter, 2 Viscount Lane...

Rolf lent back from his work desk with a satisfied sigh, his project was finished.

Before him lay a chest harness attached to a shoulder brace and two support frames for mechanical arms, a normal work for a mechanist one would say, if they discounted Rolf’s sixteen years of age and the fact that these limb enhancers looked rather different than the usual bulky fair.

Instead they were half the usual weight and size, being far more streamlined and compact, a necessity for Rolf who despite possessing a wiry strength was nowhere near the mass of rippling muscles most mechanists possessed and designed for.

Hoisting the armaments up Rolf shrugged his arms through the gaps and started fastening the array of straps and clasps until the device was firmly secured.

Even with it’s slender design it weighed Rolf down quite a bit and hindered his movements, at least until he activated two gravity arrays by inserting jadeite power crystals and connecting a thread of his mana to them.

The Jadeite power crystals were a step above jasper crystals in magic retention and efficiency, but still inferior to nephrite or agate ones, nevertheless they would suffice for his intentions, they had cos a month’s worth of allowance and he could afford nothing better.

The arms now lightened from Rolf activating the magitech enhancements allowed him to proceed with his primary purpose of the evening.

“Test one, ease of movement.” Rolf noted softly, his voice quivering slightly from both nervousness and excitement.

Slowly he extended his arms and started moving them around, testing the joints and pistons through various postures and flexes. All seemed mostly in order.

With the first test complete Rolf grabbed a screwdriver and made some minor tension adjustments before going through the test again. Perfect.

“Test two, standard strength enhancement.” Rolf said.

He then activated the enchantment with a knob, before proceeding to lift his table, and then his bed one at a time.

“Test complete, strength enhancement within acceptable parameters, proceeding to final test.”

Rolf switched the knob to the final setting

“Test three, gravitational enhancement and modification application.”

Rolf activated the enchantment with his mana, and dropped.

The splintering of wood as his brass fists slammed into the floor was both loud, and as splinters embedded themselves in exposed patches of skin, painful.

A silent moment occurred as Rolf set a mental reminder to affix a modifier to the enchantment to allow him to control the intensity, unfortunately for him the noise had not gone unnoticed.

As footsteps slapped on the roof, and then the stairwell Rolf struggled to hit the disengage button, eventually resorting to kneeing himself in the chest to hit the catch, once free he swiftly popped the crystals out and as the enchantment faded shoved the apparatus under his bed and messed up the blanket so it drooped down and concealed it from view.

“Rolf! Are you in there? I’m coming in!” His mother called from the hallway.

Rolf jumped to the door just as it started opening, holding it shut with his body.

“Don’t come in mom, I’m changing, I’ll be up for dinner in a minute!”

The door relented and Rolf shut it before sweeping his eyes around the room.

He changed clothes at breakneck pace and after a thought placed a brass gear in the impact zone as ‘evidence’.

Just in time he stepped back. his mother had taken the silence as him being presentable and entered.

She was a classically beautiful woman, long straight hair of ebony matched with a pale skin seldom touched by sunlight. Her features could have been beautiful, but instead appeared severe, softening only slightly from their usual stiffness as she gazed upon her son.

“What happened Rolfie? Are you alright? You weren’t fiddling around with that awful magic again were you? Or worse, that abominable hybrid of true,pure technology with magic, that.. magitech.”

Rolf’s mom practically spat the last word out, her tone venomous, Rolf tried to look as innocent as possible as he shook his head.

“No mom, I was just thinking of how awful magitech is and so in my rage I threw that gear over there and damaged the floor.” Rolf blithely lied, deflecting his mom before she could start ranting again.

His mom sniffed, “Well, as commendable as that is always remember, trash the magic not the tech. I know it’s difficult being a teenager Rolfie, but fear not, soon you will have outgrown any unhealthy obsessions with magic and fulfill your true calling of brass.”

She walked into the room and reached down to collect the gear.

Caught in the middle of a suppressed eye roll Rolf’s heart practically exploded as it sped up, if his mom just turned her head slightly she would see his masterpiece hiding under the bed and all hell would break loose, Rolf had only angled the blanket to hide it from the doorway, not the room’s center.

Thankfully his mom rose and deposited the gear neatly into a pile of similar items lying on his workbench.

“Now come Rolfie, the food will get cold if we take much longer, and you know how that irritates your father. We also need to talk about your desire to attend the royal academy, you know how I’d rather you took a good apprenticeship at your Uncle’s business in Imperyn.”

“Yes mom.” Rolf replied as he carefully shepherded her out of his room, before closing the door firmly behind them. “We’ll talk about it.”

Rolf firmed his will for the battle ahead. He'd be damned if he was shipped off to his uncle who was a greater magitech hater than even his mother, he needed to escape to the royal academy where he could pursue his passion in peace.

Thankfully he had been successful in his last task, he hoped it bought him enough capital to sway his father, because by hook or by crook he was going to the royal academy of Darish. They had the best magitech programs and funding out of any of the national academies and he wouldn’t settle for less.