Sworded Affair

[This is more in line with what I know of the man, an academic, a polymath and a philanthropist, dedicated to ending the tragedy that defined his own childhood. Not an easy start to life, one plagued by persistent asthma, measles, and tuberculosis. His own struggles to overcome ill health culminated in the awakening of his magic, becoming a first-generation Practitioner.

Even after joining the Empire proper, and gaining access to methods that could cure him fully, he accepted only the simplest of remedies, refusing to be fully treated until, in his own words: \'not a single soul still suffers from the ravages of disease.\' A foolish choice, many would claim, but it was his choice, and we respected him for it.]

"He sounds like a good man," Emma acknowledged, putting the book back in its place on the shelf. "How does someone like him end up leading an assault squad to purge an abandoned mine shaft?"

[Curious, isn\'t it? He never had any interactions with law enforcement, magical or otherwise, beyond one incident where a police officer drove him to the hospital, in the absence of an ambulance. Of all the Magi in the Empire, why him?]

It took longer than Emma would have liked, flicking through every book to make sure there was nothing obviously hidden, but at the end of the day they were simply books: all of them older than Emma herself. The only true surprise was finding a signed copy of The Lord of the Rings, which Emma promptly tried to borrow with Eden\'s Echo.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

[Error: Permission not found.]

Alas, it seemed that Magus Austere was cautious enough to build protections into even his non-magical property, thus thwarting her nefarious plans. Giving that up as a bad job, Emma decided to move on, the clock was ticking after all.

[WARNING: This Dungeon is unstable, and will collapse if unbeaten in 8 hours, 12 minutes.]

Of the three connecting doors, the first one Emma tried led to the bathroom. It was pretty large, boasting both a standing shower and a separate bathtub, but otherwise unremarkable. The second door led to the bedroom, which was on the smaller end: little more than a space for a double bed, alongside built-in wardrobe for clothing. Emma tried to grab a few sets of pyjamas to bolster her lacking supply, to the same result as before.

[Error: Permission not found.]

Predictably, it was the final door Emma checked that led to somewhere useful: the laboratory. Considerably larger than the living quarters, row upon row of hydroponic tanks sat empty, large bags of seeds propped up against them on the floor. A quick glance revealed common crops, like cucumbers, tomatoes, and bell peppers, as well as more exotic herbs such as asafoetida, mugwort and allspice. It was only when walking past that Emma discovered that one tank wasn\'t empty, when its contents jumped for her face.

[Meal, Ready to Evacuate - Level 1]

Emma whacked the fist-sized brown blob with Epitaph, not because it was threatening enough to warrant the blade, but more so that Emma didn\'t want to touch it, if she could help it. It splattered harmlessly against the floor, spilling its guts to reveal four frankfurters and a side of gravy.

[1 EXP gained.

He cast a rite of animation on an MRE. It\'s interesting to know that works, but I cannot fathom the circumstances in which that would prove useful.]

"You could use it to force feed someone?" Emma suggested. "Though, they\'d have to be really reluctant to eat, to justify the trouble."

[There\'s a reason force feeding is considered torture in many jurisdictions. Some MREs are worse than starvation.]

None of the other tanks contained any surprise passengers, allowing Emma to reach the end of the long, rectangular corridor, and the true prize of this visit: a computer. Very old fashioned, with keys raised on individual slots in the manner of a typewriter, and a bulky all-in-one setup, complete with a screen that made use of cathode tubes, but a computer all the same. Unlike his books however, there was no sticky note stuck on the screen, leaving Emma to blindly guess at the password. To her shock and incredulity, she got it on the third attempt: 12345678.

"Really?" Emma deadpanned. "Isn\'t this guy supposed to be a big shot in medical research? Because this seems like it could become a problem real fast."

[Um… Right. I\'m going to ask the security team on-site to give him a surprise audit.]

Whilst a serious lapse in the workplace, it proved convenient in the here and now. After a few moments spent adjusting to the antiquated desktop environment of Windows XP, Emma began to take a proper look around.