Lucranaris' Quest

To find the killers of Pecunarius, I needed information. Obviously, the first thing to do was see what could be seen. Fortunately, he’d been slain in his home in a room with a mirror, so, with the requisite formulae, I was able to compel the mirror to replay all that had been reflected within it over the last day.

My efforts got me an image that made my blood run chill: two men, clothed in mundane garments that even the somewhat unfocussed image made clear were covered with symbology, strode into the room as though the owned it. My image conveyed no sound, but I did not need it: my master spoke no words save those that ignited a hasty defensive spell, one that aided him but little: the surprise was too great and the opponents either too potent or too well­prepared against the forces unleashed upon them. Two silent bullets from an written, large caliber handgun ripped through Pecunarius’ defenses, and he slumped to the ground. The pair then searched the study. The gray­garbed man made efforts to gain egress to my master’s sanctum, but, oddly for one who seemed so otherwise well­prepared, he was unable to pass the wards. The red­garbed man took something from my master’s desk, and then they departed.

So there it was. I knew I could never defeat these two, let alone whoever sent them, if they worked for others than themselves. But their garments indicated they had dealings in the world, and any mage who knows the ways of finance as well as I can, with enough dedication, make life difficult at the least for those with ties in the mundane, making them weak enough that some other enemy—and there is always another enemy—can find opportunity to strike and accomplish what I could not.

But first I required information. That was actually easy enough: I contacted my associate Jenna Andrews. Nervomundi, to use her correct name, is a Virtual Adept whom Pecunarius and then I cultivated as an ally. Despite her boasts, I’m unsure of her ability to “get into anything anyone has,” but she is superb at ferreting out information. Too many mages forget that Sleepers are just that, sleeping, while some are in fact only dozing. They see things they should not be able to see, and they talk and write about these encounters. Nervomundi tells me some of the Order would be astounded what is discussed in some locations on the Internet, if one knows where to look and how.

Within a day, Nervomundi had found a sighting of my master’s assassins in Asheville, North Carolina. It was little enough, but a chance is better than nothing by far, so I booked a flight. By the time I had deplaned, Nervomundi had something else for me in the area to which she’d directed me: a mansion afire, the flames resisting all efforts of fireman to quench them.

I rented a car under a pseudonym and drove to the location. I did not think I would find the assassins, but then, I really didn’t want to. What I wanted was information, and that, hopefully, I would find. Then would be time for my next step: to take what I had to a member of House Shaea. I had no friends in that house, no sa—my master had it in abundance, but I am too new to have accumulated favors as yet—but I thought a fee would induce one to research for me and determine if my foes lie within the Order. If so, my next step may be, if I’ve enough information, to contact the Quaesitors. If not, then I must find seek my foes on my own.