Sitting at Vlahd Vhampyre’s desk wasn’t the storymancer she expected to see. She was expecting to see a real vampire looking back at her, and as far as she is aware, Vlahd is a man. The large black glossy desk accented with chrome only highlighted how this stranger isn’t Vlahd. Vlahd wasn’t known for his modern tastes. The stranger before her wore glossy black nail polish that rivalled the desk’s glossy sheen. Her long, straight platinum hair was styled down, revealing red flecks throughout her hair. To complete the look of her narrow, lean face, her eyes were painted with a dark shimmer, and she wore a blood-red lipstick.

  If this is Vlahd, he has changed considerably since the photo in his file was taken. Vlahd didn't flaunt his vampiric lineage in any way. Typically, new vampires or those wishing to be flaunt the 'vampiric look.'

  “Salutations. Have no worries, I will not see the lacking of an escort at the train station as an insult to myself or my team,” Keylynn said, approaching the desk with each step punctuated by a click against the glossy glass-like tile of the floor.

  The woman looked up from her paperwork, running her eyes over Keylynn. Her scorn and judgement danced across her face. “And who are you to grant me this high honour?”

  “Keylynn, Humanoid Resources Specialist of the Royal Assessment Department and Adventurer Welfare Council, myself and my team were called to conduct an emergency assessment of your quest line of the Neverburrows regarding the incident of the untimely demise of the adventuring party known as the Day Eyes,” she explained before adding, “My apologies. I often forget that my introduction and reasoning should overshadow the niceties.” She bowed her head.

  “That explains who you are, but not why you drop dirt on my floor,” the stranger said, glaring behind Keylynn.

  She turned to see a faint trail of mushroom spores that followed in her wake. She smiled faintly. They must have felt the need to release their spores, as if they don’t trust what they see before her. The spores themselves were a delightful mixture of reds, oranges and the occasional purple. “That is a product of my connection with nature, nothing more. By your words, is it safe to presume that you are the storymancer of the Neverburrow quest?”

  Keylynn received a look of pure disgust. “Does it not look like I am the storymancer? Unless we are at the receptionist’s desk and I am mistaken in where I work.” She asked, gesturing towards her desk.

  Keylynn glanced down at the nameplate, which simply read 'Storymancer.'“Looks are not a factor, I can assure you. I simply need a verbal acknowledgment,” she replied while digging through her bag for her clipboard.

  “Who is your shadow?” The woman asked, pointing one of her long, lacquered fingernails at Lark.

  Keylynn felt her hyphae reach through her bag, grasping her clipboard. "Ah yes, that is Lark." She gestured towards him casually. "He has been assigned to learn from me today. He will be shadowing all members of my team. Quell your concerns, he is not going to alter the quality of our assessment. He is merely here to observe and learn,” she explained, removing her clipboard from her bag and removing the pen from the clip. A trick she learned from Dauven to always have a pen handy. “Before we can conduct our assessment in earnest, we have preliminary paperwork that we must attend to, as you are well aware, storymancer.” She paused before continuing her explanation of the form. “It is a contract that protects both parties from malfeasants and ensures that there is minimal lying. I assume you do not need instruction in filling it out.” She set her clipboard on the desk in front of the confessed storymancer.

  “You assume correct.” She responded, picking up the clipboard. Keylynn watched as her eyes darted across the page. “Remind me, what happens should I refuse?”

  Keylynn smiled pleasantly at her. “It goes without saying that things often go smoother for everyone if you were to consent, but the refusal does happen from time to time. Those that refuse are sent on a six-week corporate retreat with a reminder of our standard operating procedures. The retreat is run by corporate-minded clerics who, I’m told, have a song for everything: teamwork, how to fill out forms, and even why our protocols are in place. All while the assessment continues and your personnel file is personally audited by someone from one of the top floors, I’ve been told that is not a pleasant process.” She concluded. It’s a process she has longed to watch but not partake in herself. The retreat alone sounds like a nightmare.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Judging by her grimace, it's safe to assume this storymancer agreed with Keylynn's sentiments. “You have my complete cooperation in this assessment and my consent. If I get sent to that retreat, I will hold you personally responsible.” She tossed the clipboard on her desk.

  Keylynn nodded, retrieving her clipboard. “I assure you, should you attend the corporate retreat, the only one you can blame is yourself.” She looked over the form, ensuring it was filled out. Failure to ensure such is her fault and one that simply is not tolerated.

  Keylynn smiled at the fancy signature on the bottom and the various boxes checked. The spell is now active. If any that they question during the assessment intentionally lie, manacles will manifest on their wrists, and should Dauven approve, they will be instantly transported to a disciplinary hearing to ascertain the reason for their actions. No one in their right mind seeks out the corporate paladins. The paladins know the SOPs, rules of conduct, and corporate mandates the best of anyone. To argue against them is a test of futility.

  “Thank you—” Keylynn frowned at the signature. It didn’t match the name that was already printed on the form.

  “Lunyxia Vhampyre,” she informed her with a sickly sweet smile.

  Keylynn tilted her head. “My apologies, Lunyxia. I find even now that some befuddle my tongue and my mind.”

  “Better to ask than to mispronounce it,” she waved it off in an act of generosity.

  “I thank your kindness and cooperation thus far. May I ask you a few preliminary questions before we begin our assessment?”

  “Fine, just make it quick. I do have work to attend to.” She waved her hand as if she were playing the role of a generous king.

  Keylynn smiled her gratitude. “You are most kind. What can you tell me about what happened to the Day Eyes?”

  “I imagine if I knew more than that they died, you wouldn’t be here,” she retorted back.

  “I find your lack of knowledge concerning. You are the storymancer. You need to know everything that occurs during every moment of this quest line.” She paused before adding, “I will find your lack of knowledge less concerning if this is your first posting.” She could think of no other way to mention the absence of Vlahd without causing her to become instantly defensive.

  “Do I look like this is my first posting?” Lunyxia snapped back.

  “Your statement has been noted and will have bearing on the results of this investigation. My associates will be requesting access to your paperwork for your sake, I hope you know where it lies.” Keylynn finished her questioning simply. She was not going to gain anything useful from this self-professed storymancer. She turned and left the office before Miss Vhampyre had a moment to, or worse, she was compelled to summon her bees. Not that she would want Lark to witness her breaking protocol by summoning bees on a false storymancer.

  “You didn’t take notes on your matrix as is expected of you.” Lark pointed out as they descended the stairs.

  “My matrix, yes.” She paused. She forgot that part of the newer protocols. “I seem to have misplaced it. I notate everything later with the aid of my slime.” She gestured towards the brown slime mould oozing down her arm.

  “I will make note of that for my audit.” He replied in a tone that suggested it was not a good thing to make note of.

  Keylynn sighed. She could simply let this matter dissolve into the space around them and let Lark’s audit be as it will be, or she can try to improve things. She cannot let this audit go badly for Dauven, especially over something so ridiculous as her matrix tablet. “I find working with the matrix difficult. I am working with my hyphae to make it easier. It's something about the screens and the hyphae not working well together. It is one of the many accommodations I have requested and Dauven has requested on my behalf. Both have gone unanswered.” She held out a hand for him to closely see the weave of thousands of hyphae that cover her fingers.

  “That’s different.”

  “So is my connection to fungi,” she said calmly. She is the only druid anyone has heard of with her unique mushroom connection. In all of her research she has yet to find anything that suggests others like her walk this world currently or have in the past.

  “That will also be added to my notes,” he amended with a glimmer of kindness in his eyes behind his darkened lenses that slid down his nose. “As will be how you handled that storymancer, there is a story behind her, I’m sure.” He had a small grin on his face. So he is more than a corporate machine.

  “I look forward to the unravelling of this web.” The corner of his mouth quirked almost into a smile.

  “Why your questions about the party?”

  “Just because corporate sees the need to tie my hands even more does not mean I will fail to do my job.”

  What if cultivation was engineering?

  Engineer mind + Taoist cultivation + Blacksmith MC

  He died. He glimpsed infinity. Now he's building his way back—with a hammer.

  No shortcuts. Just a nine-year-old forging lightning generators and formations in a dying kingdom.

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