As for the status of monsters in Haswhald and the surrounding lands of late, one could only agree that the news was, again, not very good. The Southeast Pass, otherwise known as Sudostris, was an arid landscape consisting of a narrow stretch of desert between the sea to the north and the mountains barring the way into the strange country of Olvaile in the south. Just north of the mountains lay a large body of water around which the cities of Westmyre, Central Haswhald by the river, and Salphest under the mountains were located.
There was a system at Silver’s academy by which the people of Sudostris placed contracts on various unkindly creatures. The assignments were delivered to Mr. Silver and his staff, who ranked them in difficulty in accordance to the five stations of the members of the academy. The lesser contracts were then pinned to a board in the main hall, while the more urgent ones were personally assigned by Mr. Silver or his officers.
Victor and Sam passed by the board thinking that when their repair work was complete they would do a job together. For the first time, they noticed that the board was teeming with unfinished contracts; bits of paper bulged from the edges and occasionally one would fall like a wisp to the floor. “Is the academy understaffed?” Victor wondered. “Or are there more monsters than usual?”
The answer to both of these questions was ‘yes’, as he soon discovered. A number of Scouts had returned from data collecting and Victor was placed on a team to put the information into a report. “You’re not a student anymore,” they told him. “You’re not an officer yet either. Welcomes to Scribe’s Purgatory. These reports will be your job until you’re assigned another role.”
“And how long will that be, exactly?”
“Could be a week, or a month, or never! Who knows! You’ll still be permitted to do your own contracts when you’re not working here. Also, don’t forget that it’s Sir Alexander’s funeral tomorrow night.”
At first the report seemed normal, though every now and then some peculiarities occurred, such as a large number of ghouls spotted around the road leading to Farwest, or a Plague Maiden wondering the woods north of Buckleaf. A Miakkyra had taken refuge on an island in the north east near Dale, and a pairing of griffins had crossed the desert from Draco’s Peak and was claiming cattle around Westmyre. Goblyn sightings were low (or at least maintaining a steady average) however the number of Neckers in any one hoard appeared to be growing in size, and evidence was showing more communities of tree goblyns taking up permanent residence in the forests.
By mid-afternoon the report was ready to be delivered. Victor found Sam again in the lower courtyard reading a book; she stood up gracefully and brushed her golden hair behind her ears. She had been waiting for him. “I’m going out in a moment for a walk along the river; thought I’d collect some flowers. Do you want to come?”
He thought that a break from everything was certainly well deserved. “We need to find Mr. Branner first to give him this,” he showed her the file in his hand.
“You mean Gretel’s dad? I hardly know what he looks like.”
“Just look for the scars,” Vic said quietly.
“And when did you start working for him?”
They entered a corridor leading to Rodrick’s office. “They gave me the assignment just yesterday, though I don’t take orders from him directly.” Rodrick was found at the end of the corridor, walking with a pile of dossiers in his arms. Victor couldn’t help but notice his own name at the top of the pile. “Mr. Branner,” he called.
Rodrick turned and smiled. “Please, call me Rodrick.”
“Uh, yes sir. I have a report to deliver.”
Rodrick took it and added it to the pile and then his eyes fell on Sam and Vic. “You’re Victor von Mylne, if I’m not mistaken?”
“That is correct, sir.”
“And you,” he said, addressing Samantha, “you must be Samantha Sommer, ‘The Alchemist’!” Sam was so stunned at being recognised by such an important figure that she failed to say anything, and just smiled gaily. Rodrick went on, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” He turned away and continued on through the corridor.
On their way to the river Sam wondered, “How did he know who we were?” She followed the river as it split through the city and she came to rest under a bridge. She turned to Victor. “Isn’t it strange?”
Victor smiled. “Not at all,” he said. “He had our dossiers.”
ns 172.70.100.147da2