The space you got couldn't be called a steal, but it was solid enough for your purposes. The Academy was old, the oldest city on the continent in fact, and over the years had built on top of itself over and over again, until its most ancient halls and workshops became catacombs beneath the surface. Long abandoned, those rooms became the slums where the people that couldn't afford the pristine wood and brick homes on the surface hid from the weather.
Even you could find yourself bankrupted by one of those, given a bit of time. The Academy attracted students from across the world, the richest of families descended from past or present kings and emperors. You'd built a small fortune for yourself, certainly, and yet almost any one of those kids frolicking about in their ivory towers could toss around that much gold in a week. But then again, the rich second-generations weren't the only students of the Academy.
If you wanted to learn magic, or develop anything more than parlor tricks, the Academy was the place to be. For a soldier trying to reach a higher station, for a clerk tired of pushing papers every day, the Academy was a place where dreams could be made. Or, more commonly, shattered under the weight of tough coursework and tougher finances. The Academy was rich in gold and richer in knowledge, but it's true wealth was in the people that flocked to the promise it embodied. It was unrealistic for you to grab great students for your enterprises, seedy as they were, and maybe even good students could find the sponsorship necessary to continue studies normally, but it didn't take a master of magic to put a knife through a guy's heart at speed.
In any case, the place you rented wasn't quite as old as the rest of the catacombs. It'd been carved out within the last century, by a paranoid old professor absolutely certain that his work with golems would be stolen if he used his actual workshop to conduct research. A mistake, that; the stale, dusty air must have played havoc on his old lungs. The professor had just up and disappeared one day, and the place had sat until someone looking through ownership records noticed they had a workshop collecting dust to sell to a poor schmuck. For a student, this would be the worst possible living space short of the streets, but for your purposes it wasn't bad. Out of the way, discreet, with ways of getting in or out undetected. It'd work for now.
You take a look inside, and freeze when you come face to face with a skeleton. Just an actual human skeleton, lying on a ratty chair that was probably a fancy fixture a hundred years ago, bones picked clean by the bottom feeders that infested the catacombs. The skeleton once belonged to that professor, you think.
The Academy really hadn't even looked through this place before selling it to you.
Well, the skeleton did give this place a certain atmosphere you liked. You picked up the skeleton's chair gently, careful not to shake it unless it fell apart, then set the chair down so that it's back faced the door. Then you grabbed your traveling hat and set it on the skeleton's head, so that he just looked like a person reclining in the chair, if seen from the door.
Giving the shelves a good dusting, you idly considered replacing the trinkets on them with wine bottles, or something or the sort. Anything vaguely shiny or valuable-looking had probably long been secreted away by now, but there was no harm in looking. Knowing what kind of old man that skeleton once was, you wouldn't be surprised if he had stuff hidden that even he'd forgotten about. This entire place was yours, now, in any case. You could figure it out at your leisure. For now, you had business to attend to.
When you showed up at the Academy, all you had was the money in your pocket and an old heirloom knife. Cast in gold, the jewel-pommeled stiletto you carried was a rather expensive letter opener for the time you've had it. At the gates of the city, though, you received a second item. A letter dropped into your hands by bird. Free from any potential prying eyes down her, you finally take the opportunity to read it:
My dear Katarin,
Oh, how the times fly. When a little birdie told me you were on your way to the Academy, I was beside myself. Truthfully though, I never took you for much of a student. I had you pegged for much… sharper pursuits, we'll say. Your time spent as my understudy made me believe you tended to cut right to the heart of the manner, even in new fields of business. Alas, I will miss your services, and wish you the best in your new pursuits.
If I may impose, though, I have a customer who requested quite the unusual thing, the other day. I cannot fulfill his requests with my current resources, however, so I forwarded him to you.
Yours Truly,
Charles Adelbright
You smile, despite yourself. Charles would've run you destitute if you didn't leave, no doubt. That old codger could sleep on a new pile of gold every night for the rest of his life, and yet would never stop grinding for as long as he lived. Flipping past your mentor's letter, you took a look at the second letter enclosed within, chicken scratch writing compared to the previous.
A certain student, Elainus Levon, has stolen my research, and plans to present it as his own. I would like that not to happen. His workshop can be found at the lower west wing of the Academy, Xiran Hall's easy quarter. A rather isolated place, most days. I have also heard that the reagents he stores are quite flammable.
I will pay for services rendered, but here is a token of my generosity.
Calvin
In classic Charles fashion, the token of generosity appears to have been liberated from its home within the envelope. But still, a referral was a referral. It was hard to get your name out there when you were selling what you were. Since Calvin didnt have the credentials to summon the Academy board, he couldn't be too wealthy, but at the very least he was liable to have the money for the next quarter's tuition, with perhaps a bit more you could shake out of him.
A few days worth of research into Elainus Levon gets you about everything you need to calculate the hit's true price. He's not important in the slightest, though he would be on track to get a sponsorship from a low official in the Empire's Ministry of War, should his presentation go through. If it didn't, though, you don't think anyone would miss him.
At the start of the recruitment phase, you will get details on the missions you can take that turn, along with any advance payment.
Elainus Levon
Lethality: 4
He doesn't often exercise, cooped up in his workshop most of the time.
Vitality: 4
He won't keel over at any moment, but he isn't the healthiest.
Stealth: 6
He's pretty sneaky. Perhaps he was a hustler before he was a student.
Awareness: 5
Perfectly average.
Traits:
Practiced Mage: He has the abilities and training of an average mage, for better and for worse. +2 Lethality if at a distance, -1 Lethality up close.
Expected Reward: 10-15 gold. Reputation Boost.
Reputation gets you better jobs and better recruits, but also more attention from major powers.
—
But, even with the job prepared, you still need to hire for the job. You were pretty flush with funds currently, so you could try to find someone exotic, but perhaps for now some of the guys you passed in the slums would suffice. Besides, there was a lot of cleaning up left to do, and you had the money to not have to do it yourself.
You can hire mooks and one Famed in the same turn. You get mooks in a group of ten.
Choose one or both:
[]Hire mooks.
Mook
Lethality: 6
They're a bit stronger than average, and have few compunctions stabbing someone for dough.
Vitality: 5
Stealth: 5
Awareness: 5
Otherwise, they are perfectly average.
Price: 2 gold/turn for each ten.
[]Hire a Famed. (+10 to roll for location)
-[]Someone lethal
-[]Someone durable
-[]Someone sneaky
-[]Someone perceptive
Roll the gacha. If selected, you will get an interview update with the character and get to choose after that whether to hire them or not.
[]No Hires are necessary.
You're not going at it alone.
