Randell Sinfreed, head researcher of magical beasts at the Springmark academy, and mage of some renown, stared down at the corpse lying on the table. The creature was an armored bear, a common species in the nearby forest. At least it was these days. The massive bear species seemed to pop up out of nowhere a few years prior and had been quite the pain to deal with along trade routes.

  It was roughly two meters tall when standing on all fours, and was covered in thick plates of hide. The researcher had already cut open several major arteries, but he had not gone further. Instead, he was waiting for the creature's blood to drain. He had no wish to make a mess, after all. The table was carved specifically to channel the draining fluids into an enclosed bucket below. A small mechanism on the table allowed it to rock gently back and forth, further coaxing the stagnant fluid out.

  Randell hadn't had much time to look into the relatively new monster in the area until recently. The emergence of a potential Portvale to the north had taken up much of his time. But given how intrusive these particular creatures had become on the local wildlife, he managed to squeeze in a study session for one of them. Though, he strongly suspected these beasts were a direct result of the Portvale. Perhaps enough had come through over the years to start breeding a notable population.

  He had gotten a lucky excuse, or unlucky depending on perspective, to begin dissecting one of the creatures after a merchant wagon had been attacked and had killed one of the beasts in response. The survivors managed to haul the corpse back to town, intending to sell the expensive skins. The local branch of the Traveler's Guild was quite eager to get more information on the creature due to the impact it had had on their organization. In fact, he was getting paid quite well for a thorough study. Most importantly, how to kill these things as quickly as possible with minimal risk.

  The bear's hide was quite the sight. The armored bear had plates of thick skin that covered its back, arms, legs, and chest, almost like armor. These plates were as thick as heavy leather and full of dense cartilage that could apparently stop a sword strike at full strength. At least, that was according to reports from the guards that fought the beasts.

  Needless to say, it was very difficult to cut through the hide, even with an enchanted scalpel, and get to the internal organs. Even cutting the thinner layers of skin took a bit of effort.

  But Randell was a patient man. If there was a job to do, he'd do it. Well, to be fair, he'd probably have one of his apprentices do it, but that was basically the same thing.

  He was dressed in casual business attire; a pair of comfortable brown cotton pants, and a fancy white tunic on top. He wore a thick leather apron strapped over his chest that reached down to his knees, with a pair of comfortable leather work gloves that stretched up to his elbows. He was of average build despite his aging appearance. He had a graying goatee that was kept meticulously trimmed. His short, salt-and-pepper black hair was slicked back, though not entirely perfectly due to the heat in the room. The fireplace at the side of the room was a bit excessive for the summer day, but he had learned early in his career that burning fragrance herbs was essential for keeping the smell within tolerable levels.

  Realizing that draining the beast would take longer than he expected, he set his tools down on a nearby table and removed his apron. He slung the leather piece on a hook as he left the room, and headed back to his office. After thinking for a moment, he decided he'd call Wendy up and have her finish opening the initial cuts for the dissection. He'd tell the young apprentice it was a test or something he supposed. It was always a good idea to keep one's underlings on their toes.

  Randell's mansion was quite large, though it was not entirely to his taste. The halls were decorated with expensive carpets and wall art, but the pieces were not of his choosing. His great-grandfather had originally had the place constructed and decorated, and the family had seen no reason to change things. It was far too expensive to change things out just because of his whims, so they lived with it, maintaining it over the generations. And, somehow, many of his siblings even admired the gaudy eyesore.

  Besides, he didn't spend much time in those parts of the mansion anyway. His laboratory, studies, and personal rooms were more to his liking. It also made the property more presentable when receiving guests, he supposed.

  He didn't live here alone, of course, but the mansion was more than big enough for the rest of his direct living relatives to enjoy without stepping on each other's toes. The family used to have a lot more heads, once upon a time. But time passed and not everyone was as invested in getting married and carrying on the family bloodline as his great-grandfather. He would know.

  As he entered his personal study, the atmosphere couldn't be more different than the halls. Instead of fancy carpets and expensive artwork of previous members of his house, the walls were lined with bookshelves and specimen cases. In one, the skull of a great firebird eagle looked out with an empty stare, its beak opened in a soundless cry. On the opposite shelf, a series of relics were lined up carefully. One of them was the famous silver dagger that slew the great lycan knight of Glietho.

  In the center of the vast room was a sturdy oak desk. Piles of paper were stacked neatly on it, each indicating an item needing his attention. One pile was requests and statements from the academy. Another pile was correspondence with the city council. Another still was for private requests. He glanced at the various piles, before walking right past them. Randell stepped over to one of the expansive bookshelves and began scanning through the reference books.

  As he was reaching to grab one title, a servant knocked on his door. Raising his brows in surprise, he called for the servant to enter. He was technically still in the middle of a project and was not to be disturbed over trivial matters.

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  The servant entered the study and gave a light bow. "Master Sinfreed, a guest has arrived and requested a private meeting. A 'Marketh Wintersfield.'"

  Wintersfield was in the city? Randell hadn't heard that name in a few years. Marketh was an excellent student, someone who had a promising career in practical magics, but they had fallen out of contact after the kid had graduated. They had exchanged letters a few times, but they slowly grew more sparse year after year. To hear that Marketh was not only back in the city, but had personally come to visit was a pleasant surprise. There were very few things that could draw the researcher away from his work once he had gotten into a flow, but a visit from an old friend was one of them.

  Randell slid the book back onto the shelf with a broad smile. "Please! Lead the way." He hurried after the servant as they headed towards the foyer. "Oh, and is Wendy still here? Please let her know I have a task for her."

  He passed off the instructions to the servant who bowed politely before setting off once again to deliver the message. The researcher opened the door of the mansion with a beaming grin. "Marketh! It's been quite some time, my friend. Come in, come in."

  Marketh nodded in response and stepped inside. "I trust you've been well, eh, teach?"

  "Bah, don't call me that, kid. You know full well I don't respond to nicknames."

  "You're one to talk. I haven't been called 'kid' in almost a decade."

  "When you're my age, everyone is a kid in comparison."

  "As you say, teach."

  The older man gave the younger a good-natured slap on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. "It's good to see you again."

  The two men shared a bit more playful banter before finally retreating to one of the smaller guest rooms. Randell had a servant bring them a meal while the two caught up. In seemingly no time at all, hours had already passed as they dove into stories of their many trials and tribulations over the previous years.

  "So, basically I'm stuck here until autumn while I wait for my client to fix everything. And yes, he's been just as much of a pain as you're probably imagining. I swear, if I wasn't doing this job as a personal favor, I'd have already dropped it. Money be damned." Marketh finished his rant with a small sip of wine.

  "Well, I'm sure Jearma is quite thankful for you putting up with her request. If I recall correctly, you've always had a soft spot for damsels in distress," he joked. "You would have made a fine knight, had you any talent for it."

  "Ah, shut it, old man. You wouldn't catch me dead in a suit of armor. Give me a nice study, and some warm tea, and I'll gladly battle a paper dragon any day."

  "So I've heard." Randell leaned back in the chair. "Sounds like quite the adventure, nonetheless."

  "Eh, it's not all bad. I found some interesting things while exploring the city, killing time. Speaking of..." He glanced around the room. "Is this room sealed?"

  That got his attention. "Of course."

  The man nodded but kept his voice low anyway. "I'm sure you're aware of the expedition a few weeks ago, yeah? The Vex hive extermination?"

  "I'm sure even the pigs and sheep know about it at this point. It's kind of hard not to when people have been shouting it from the rooftops. Most of these people have no idea what a Vex even is. Just another excuse to get drunk, I think."

  Marketh waved him off. "Obviously. People will make up any excuse to drink more booze. But listen, I've been wandering the city a bit, and I found something on sale I think you might be interested in."

  It took him a second to connect the dots. What would he find interesting that had to do with the hive extermination mission? Did they find some interesting bits of goods inside? Or...

  "Is someone selling intact Vex corpses from the extermination? I mean, I wouldn't mind buying one to put up on display. But I've studied plenty of Vex bodies over the years. More than enough to know them inside and out. You know this."

  Marketh only smiled. "Not a per se..."

  The older gentleman just stared at him. "Are you telling me some of a soldier smuggled a live Vex drone into the city?! Are they begging to be executed? What kind of brain-fried, inbred moron would think that was a good idea?! More importantly, how?! No, wait, an egg. That would make sense. Any bucket head could easily swipe up an egg or two, and stuff it in a bag. Though that's arguably worse... With an egg, there's always some idiot convinced they can tame it and keep it like a damn " Randell fumed at the sheer incompetency of the idea. It would not be the first time something like this happened. It was always, a bloody affair in the end.

  Marketh smirked slightly, finding amusement in the older man's rant. "Close, but not quite. I wouldn't bring this to your attention for any old drone. An anonymous letter to the guards and my hands would be clean. No, this requires some special attention. It's a queen."

  Randell's mouth snapped shut in a hard line. "A queen? You're joking."

  The young man only shook his head. "I wouldn't have bothered you with this if I wasn't sure. It's the real deal. I confirmed it personally. The seller is an acquaintance of mine, a friend of a friend, and someone I already vetted. They're asking for six thousand. A live egg, halfway through incubation. No witnesses."

  The very idea of a live Vex in the city disgusted him and made his blood boil. It was careless beyond measure. What sort of lunatic would risk so much danger just to earn a quick coin? But, then again, it was a queen after all. That wasn't an opportunity to waste. And who better to ensure this monster was properly supervised than him? He knew the Vex very well. Perhaps better than anyone else in the entire city. He understood their true danger better than any adventurer.

  Even still, so little was known about the queen subspecies. Eggs were impossibly rare to find in the wild, and living queens needed to be taken out as quickly as possible due to their very nature. If even a single drone was in the area, the lethality of the creature increased by an order of magnitude. And that wasn't even counting the mental abilities of the higher-level queens. They were a truly terrifying opponent to face in their own territory.

  He had studied the corpses of the great masters of the hives many times. But studying a live specimen was a unique experience that he couldn't pass up. It would be difficult, though. This was beyond illegal for obvious reasons. No one could hear about this without being magically bound to silence. No exceptions.

  Randell grimaced as he thought. His eyes drifted off to the side, staring at nothing in particular as he debated with himself.

  "... Six thousand?"

  A nod.

  "A friend of a friend, huh? Can you get it here without drawing any suspicion? I'd pay you a handsome commission, of course."

  "Five hundred as a handler's fee, and you've got a deal. Paid upfront."

  "Fine."

  After the massive number of coins exchanged hands, their conversation came to a close fairly quickly. It was hard to carry on their playful banter after such an exchange. Agreeing to meet back up in the next few days, they shook hands and parted ways.

  Randell wasted no time in setting up a new study room with strict orders that none may enter. His previous specimen was left completely forgotten.