I wake up to an angrily growling stomach. I slowly take stock of my surroundings, trying to figure out when or how I fell asleep. Nothing appears to be missing or out of place, so I put it out of my mind as I get up and try to figure out how to tame my growling beast of a stomach.

“Guess I didn’t eat much yesterday.” I yawn, stop by the bathroom for my morning constitutional, then head to the kitchen to hopefully figure out how to get or make food.

I glance at the timepiece as I walk towards the food station. “Mab, you awake?”

“Well it’s about time, sleepy head. I was half afraid you died and I’d have to figure out how to get your decaying corpse out of here.” So cheerful and supportive. I may yet grow fond of her.

“You say the nicest things Mab. Now, I need food. How do I do this?” I’m half expecting a smart ass reply to my question.

Getting food proves to be simple. Push this, yank that, twist that dial, and viola! Porridge. Seriously, porridge. Mab must be trolling me.

“This it? I was hoping for something more substantial. Like meat and potatoes or eggs and ham.”

“Well why didn’t you saaaay so?” She giggles. Yup, definitely trolling me. She shows me the menu, which shows me how to get what I want.

After satisfying the monster that is my belly, I take a quick shower and put on my new duds. They have an auto fit feature for first time use, which makes it uber nice. No going to the tailor or sewing it up myself. I also note that the items I’m wearing can be quickly swapped for other gear or layered. My inner gamer rubs his hands in glee at all the ‘macros’ I can set or more commonly, quick switching gear that’s been preset depending on the situation. With my seemingly unlimited storage space, I can be a walking armory.

Outfitted in my new gear, I walk into the main room. Mab’s already waiting on me, having given me an overview of what she wants to get done today. Mission to assess my skill for the job class I have and maybe pick up a few nice things along the way. Remote rich planet, low risk, above average population. The goal?

“Just to be sure Mab, the only thing I need to worry about is taking an item at this Duke’s main estate and not get caught?” I’m very skeptical about this if you hadn’t noticed. It seems like she’s setting me up as a thief. But given my background, infiltrating and such should be easy.

“Yeppers, the Duke has acquired a rare fairy item he keeps locked in his trophy room. Sneak in, get it, sneak out. Can’t be seen, get caught, don’t bungle finding and retrieving the item, and get out without being seen and caught. Easy peasy.”

A Fairy Queen said that. I give a laugh as we head to the transporter.

“Oh, before I forget again, Lt. Scott sent a message to me - he wants to have a chat with you. He’s supposed to vet all new comers to the hub since he’s in charge of security.” The glow stick absently states as she leads me down the tunnel. I jot a quick note down for this, I’ll get to it when we get back.

As we walk, I can’t help but ask, “Mab, are we going to discuss the events leading to our meeting? I mean, there was this ginormous dragon and all…” My thoughts continue to come back to the outrageous scenario I’d intruded on. Massive dragon in an underground sewer that was surrounded by undead and could still move, albeit very slowly, while in what appeared to be a frozen in time moment.

“I honestly have no idea what you mean. You finally appeared before me and started to yell gibberish like a mad man. I thought I heard something echoing through the halls though. No idea what it was.” I’m honestly speechless. She’s either telling the truth or being willingly ignorant. Neither bodes well for me. I make a note to travel back and check.

After all, it’s not everyday you not only run into a dragon, but unload the equivalent of a small armies worth of jacketed hollow points at it.

We finally walk into a room similar to where we arrived on the hub when Mab transported us. It could be the same room as well, they all look the same to me so it’s hard to say.

Without fanfare, Mab transports us to a new world. I had braced myself for the sudden teleport this time, so no projectile vomit from me!

Blue skies stretch across the horizon, a single sun glaring down from above. Green grass like a carpet spread all over the ground, trees in full vigor of health swaying gently in a breeze. I would think this is my planet if not for my fairy guide and the wooden cottage village down in a small valley a distance away.

“Right then, here are a few things I should have given you when we arrived at the hub. We got sidetracked though, better late than never.” Mab hastily sends me a prompt to trade.

Mab has initiated a trade with you! Trade: Reconnoiter eyepiece, Facemask (of the Ashura), Belt of Onkyo. Trade for 1 Credit?

That’s a no brainer, those sound pretty cool. Accepting, I pull up the description of each item;

Reconnoiter Eyepiece: Attaches to ear and covers a single eye. Will allow for translation of written and spoken languages not known, allows verbal and visual communication between paired devices. This item will aid in the discovery of hidden items or areas, be able to determine the honesty of a person, help to properly gauge the strength of the observed, and give you a cool and classy look of a race long extinct. Clear lense and matte black exterior. Cannot be stolen or looted.

Facemask (of the Ashura): Protects face from being seen. When equipped, the user will have no issues with breathing, smelling, or sight limitations. Becomes clear to the user while obstructing any discernible features of the wearer. (Warning! Cursed item, use with caution.)

Belt of Onkyo: Allows the skill Sound Dampening. Agi +5, Dex +5, +2 to Armor rating

“Uhhh, Mab?” I won't lie, I’m more than a little nervous about having a cursed item in my inventory. “Why did you give me a cursed item?”

Mab is suddenly still, then slowly turns towards me. “Gram, I am a lot of things, but I don’t try to kill my Contracted. Now that you know this, why do you think I gave you a cursed item?” She doesn’t know. Maybe that’s why the parenthesis around the cursed part?

I pull out the mask and swipe the description screen to Mab. “I’ll assume you’re not pulling a joke and ask the obvious, again - why do you think this is cursed? I see nothing to that effect listed here.”

I tilt my head in confusion. “Not even the info in the parenthesis of the screen I swiped you?”

“No, Gram. I’m still not seeing anything like that.” She replies in the negative. She’s becoming more agitated, which is causing me to react the same.

Looking over the facemask, I think it may be tied to all the skills I’ve picked up recently. I start closely examining every little bit of the mask, trying to figure out why I would be getting that kind of notification when she doesn’t. I’ve already equipped the eyepiece and belt, so neither of those items allowed for this information to be made available to me. I glance back at Mab while pointing to my eyepiece, “You have one of these too?”

“Yes. Are we going to conclude this insult to me or are you going to drag it out longer?” Wow, she’s really getting upset about this.

Flipping the mask over, so it looks as if I were going to put it on, I start to move my face closer to inspect it. When it’s close enough to my face to look like I’m about to place it there, a rune starts to shine in a nasty purple/red about where the forehead would be once on.

“Mab, fly close to my face and look at this.” I’m examining the rune and digging through my accumulated knowledge about them.

Mab flies closer and with a gasp, she notices the lit rune. “Ohmygosh! Ohmygosh! I’msosorry!” She talks so fast it all blends together.

The rune is a dark madness rune, designed to slowly warp the users mentality to - you guessed it, genocidal mania. The user won’t notice anything, as it’s a slow acting conversion and pollution of the spirit and mentality. Morals and ethics will corrode and they begin sliding down the slippery slope to casual killing and madness.

“No worries Mab, I caught it before it became an issue. Sorry if I insulted you, I was genuinely curious is all.” I’m sincere in my statement. No harm, no foul.

I pull the mask away from my face. The rune goes dormant. I charge my finger with mana and strike the rune with an almost sideways slash. The rune appears again, a dull blood-red with a line through it where my finger went. I smudge the rest of the rune off since it’s just ink or blood now. All is right again.

Re-examining the mask shows the cursed status went away. I pop it back into inventory since I don’t think it’d be good to equip it now.

That bit of drama done, we mosey on to our destination for my ‘mission’.

A few hours pass as we casually head to the cottages I saw in the distance. Turns out that the valley was deeper than I thought and the cottages were just the outskirts to a fairly large city. Walls that span about 5 meters in height made of sturdy stone, it all looks like the beginning of a castle city or capital for the area.

There were no travelers on the path we were taking. Said path is well worn from travel, so it’s not as if we are trail blazing cross country to the city. Birds and insects twitter and chirp, I see sectioned land plots full of varied crops next to the road and in the distance. This is a nice rural area, though my guard is never lowered. This is a fantasy world, bandits and other cutthroats are a thing. Let’s not forget that I’m in an unknown area with what amounts to a large number of potential hostiles.

Yeah, no. Not letting my guard down. Nuh-uh. Nope. No way.

Traffic into the city through the gate is not stopped for inspection. There must not be any wars or battles or such to have them on higher alert for spies and the like. The guards are all in shiny heavy plate with helmets. The visors up for better field of vision. The chatter and bustle of the city can be heard well before entering the gate. The gate itself spans about 5 meters wide and arches up to the top to allow a greater flow of traffic. Heavy wooden doors are on the outside, being able to swing in towards the city for extra structural support against invaders. It’s much harder to try to pull than push when attempting a quick entry after all.

A smattering of wood and stone buildings all around. Streets filled with people, refuse, horse dung, and that’s a drunk man pissing on the wall. Lovely. Either plumbing doesn’t exist here or they don’t care about hygiene.

I look closer at peoples clothing, noting their poor make and ragged appearance. All of them appear human. Simple folk, from a time likened to the dark ages of my world. Wonder if a plague is on the way to ravage these unprepared or uncaring villagers. A prompt appears and I decline without reading it, I’m not doing any quests here right now - thank you not.

It was either mid-morning or late afternoon when we arrive, but it looks like the day is ending since the sun is setting. That’s good, I don’t really want to spend any more time here than necessary.

I keep following Mabs lead, looking around as we go. Casually, Mab flits closer to my ear a moment. “I’ll be showing you where your target is located. I figured it would be good for you to take in the sights as we go, for any plans you may come up with latter.” It’s a good thing she’s practically whispering in my ear, talk like that could land us in a heap of trouble I’d rather not have to deal with.

The Duke resides in a manor near the city center. I large three storied manor, that sits almost dead center of the equivalent of a city block. Stone walls almost as tall as the city walls cover the perimeter. Fancy pants either inherited it or made major moves to gain property like this.

We walk past an open gate, not slowing in the slightest. I glance inside, a casual look of a sightseer walking the town. It was a long enough look to see the sprawling open yard with only the occasional knee high hedge or planted flowers. I guess he’s not a fan of trees or he’s savvy enough to limit cover and hiding spots for infiltrators or thieves. A few squads of guards look to patrol the grounds. I manage to see three groups, with four guards in heavy plate in each group. Likely more behind and inside the building.

The manor has numerous tall windows on all sides that I can see, on each floor. If they are left unlocked, that’ll be an easy means of entry. Mab didn’t tell me where the trophy room was and asking now will only start trouble.

We continue on, sightseeing the city. It’s really a decent size, covering an estimated two and a half square kilometers or a little less than a square mile. Truly impressive for the technology level and the poor hygiene of the people in this place. I’d figure the population would be much lower due to higher sickness. Guess I’m missing something.

We stop at a tavern, I don’t even pay attention to the name. I find a seat by the fireplace. Chatter and cheer, people drinking and eating, crammed around tables or standing by the walls, all over the main floor. Steps leading up to a second floor are near the back of the tavern. A long bar table takes up most of the back where the stairs are at. A barkeep is taking orders and cleaning wooden mugs behind the bar with a trained casual air about him. Several waitresses jaunt about with platters held above their heads, wearing simples dresses that show a surprising amount of cleavage. Likely to sell more.

One of those waitresses takes my order of an ale and returns shortly. I take a sip, making sure to keep a decent poker face on when the sour taste hits my tongue. I’m not impressed. At all. Horrible quality beer is insulting to my palate.

“How will I pay for this?” I mutter at Mab, who’s rotating around like a pinata during a child's birthday.

“Just reach your hand into your inventory and think about how many credits you want to take.” Simple enough. I take my time and very slowly nurse the very unappealing ale. Blending in, taking in the sights, getting a gauge on the people. Good ole reconnaissance.

The sun sets, I pay my tab with a tip and a smirk. Nothing I overheard really caught my interest, mostly being gossip or discussing the coming harvest. The ale was too weak to even faze my ability to function, so I don’t have to worry about sobering up. We leave, slipping out just as more people start clamoring inside.

We meander back to the area the Duke resides. The houses in the area are single story tall to as high as three stories tall. Using the chameleon skills for all my clothes and the cling skills of my gloves and boots, I shimmy up the side of a three story building not far from my target location.

The boots and gloves activate through will, so I’m not constantly sticking to things everytime I touch them. It took a bit of trial and error to make sure I can climb up without falling on my ass if I get slightly distracted. The chameleon effect was the same way, though it would be funny to have only partially hidden parts. It’d make a great party gag.

As each skill is part of a shared enchantment, they each draw from my SP pool. Because of that, there is a constant drain on my SP. When all enchantments are activated, I consume more SP than I replenish per minute so I need to make sure I don’t run out. I half figured it’d draw from the MP pool, but I won’t complain much since my SP pool is only slightly the lesser of the two.

I spend the next four hours quietly traversing the rooftops surrounding the the Dukes place, paying attention to the guard rotation and patrol path. More habit than anything else, I imagine I will have little problem with the clothes I’m wearing and skills they provide. I also become used to using my enchantments on the move and gauge the amount of SP is consumed by them so I don’t run out or get myself in a bind.

I slip on the face mask and turn to Mab. “I’m about to begin, anything you need to tell me?”

“Nope, just don’t be seen or caught. I’ll be able to see and hear all that you do. I’ll be silent except for when something needs to be said, so act like I’m not even available for this. I want to see what you are capable of.” With her piece said, she zooms off to the extraction point while dimming her flashlight effect. I’m glad she didn’t want to be flare in the night sky, giving everyone who looks a means of easily tracing her trajectory.

Watching her for a minute or two after she leaves, I shake myself and prepare for some good old infiltration - also known as criminal trespass.