Not your run of the mill walk around the block, imagine if people needed information and were willing to pay for it.
Knowledge was power, acknowledging this he tapped his temple, his hoard of wealth sprung from his inspirations, Connor was slowly becoming someone that one might know to be resourceful.
His myriad of drab disguises paled in comparison to the task, he would simply portray himself to be someone who was supposed to be there.
They did it, even had matching regalia and everything, had their orders to act out as they wished.
The worst thing was that they paid them, exceptionally well, to be as resilient to bribery, as a nun in church Connor preyed on their faith.
Shouldering past another guard, motioning to caution concerning the man.
It gave him an excuse to non-threateningly assert his presence, without fear of being questioned.
He shrugged the dark mantle of a cloak on his shoulders a little higher.
Looking every bit regal as he meant to, Connor dwelt in the passageways adjacent where conversations had been taking place.
Conscripted to a higher purpose, he had resigned his resignation and decided to jump into the task.
Full force tactics would be a terrible idea, the guards were numerous and above all else, well trained.
Opposing them or going toe to toe with them at any point would probably result in very near-certain death.
Connor was holding to his convictions, his constitution was lavish and he ruled himself with rigorous intent.
Confidence was half the job anyway, the other half was overhearing something; possibly heresy or dissent in their ranks, any small piece of information would be insufficient.
Insufficiency would not pay dividends.

The royal archive, the last time Connor had been here he was receiving his Grimoire, he had been sixteen.
A kid from a big shot noble family, destined to do great things.
At least that was the idea.
Connor confirmed their suspicions, he was the man they were expecting to tell them about their shift details, a sombre silence filled the air while the junior knight was stammering some apologetic riot act.
His simple shushing brought another easily tense moment to the forefront of the present, he lucidly explained that they would either continue doing what they were doing or go home.
The juniors were easy to deal with when you picked them out, luckily he found two of the newer ones; junior class 5.
New trainee’s, from Hage and Hosshi respectively, Connor eased their anxiety by going through some breathing exercises with them.
It wasn’t the same as simply coercing them, out of sheer respect of the intimidating prospect of running into a senior knight, Connor proceeded to be brief with the first two guards he ran into.
Explaining to them that he had orders to continue divvying out the jobs and chores, he left them smiling and re-assured.
He wasn’t simply touring the inside of the archives by the time he had hidden behind a door, but he found that the dust was minimal and it was an easy place to retreat to.
Spreading the chaos of his presence into a few small steps, he would test the floorboards to see which of them were squeaky.
There was an expanse of wooden architecture and important artefacts, probably what the magic knights were guarding.
It was kind of hard to believe they had such an immediate unbelievable defence for information exclusively, Connor kept his hands to himself, reading the closest opened book, with his arm crossed he took particular interest in a field report that was from rather recent.

Demons.
The kingdom was currently having a demon crisis, Connor was a little dim when it came to such otherworldly matters, he was a god-fearing citizen.
This was almost impossible to comprehend, how were the knights and the king; most importantly the archivist, keeping such a calamity from being public news?
Information like this could cause an uproar, demonic beings malevolently roaming the lands, the cover-up work of the military of clover to ‘protect’ the civilian mentality.
Extortion was not something that immediately came to mind, when Connor held up the chewed tip of his thumb he appraised the anticipation of the value of this with anxious, calm amazement.
He had chewed his fingernail garishly, consternation spread over his face in a myriad of curious similitudes.
Had there been anyone else from the tavern, that had been ordered to gather information; he might have been more self-aware, for the present moment he was very relaxed.
The tension lost its grip on him as he spread his hands out to do the work of any other ordinary citizen.
He was visiting, after all, the intermediate knights were more partial to bribery specifically.
They had upkeep needs that their generous pay didn’t cover, towards the end of the week they were looser with their duties anyway.
Hard to conceive that they may be so placid, regarding the precarious nature of the kingdom’s satiety.
Happiness was the belief that you were inordinately content with what you had, Connor could not express this personal example of joy after reading this.
A lot of spooky things were occurring across the land, deaths; murders, robberies, larceny.
Connor ticked off a few of them, being that he was the culprit of such acts and it was kind of exciting to see that someone was keeping score.

Daemons were a grand scale problem, the nightmarish illustrations, and the post-script notes were stomach-churning.
Other than for a slight moment, Connor considered his surroundings and how very little seemed to be impossible nowadays.
The prospective patrons may already have this information, the magic knights certainly did, or at least the archivist’s handwriting had written it to be thus.
Scarce as the information was, it wasn’t an assurance, so he delved into the chronicled crimes committed by militant civilians of Clover.
Things that would earn you a black star; the volume of deeds were thick, ranging from arbitrary lethal force to property damage that had to be paid for.
Tax evasion was not something they dealt with; a world outside of commoner and noble life, the magic knight’s Yul and the paycheck was granted from the crown; and the kingdom, directly.
Taxed out of the noble families, Connor had experienced a few fleeting moments that had seemed to last forever, this was one of them.
A footstep, a creak; a doorknob turning, and a hinge that needed oil.
These few things precipitated the very moment that Connor crawled behind a stack of books, hiding in the shadows of the far side of the room.
He had company, he wasn’t sure if it was an ally; or an assailant, someone looking to thin the herd of prospects perhaps?

Not giving Connor the answers, the figures entered and mumbled something to themselves.
There was the faint light of a lantern glowing in the distance, the number of books and shelves obscured the two of them completely from each other.
Indistinguishable from an empty room, Connor quietened his breathing although his heart was bombarding the inside of his rib cage.
Cold-blooded was a trick he had learnt to subtly blend in, it was just about impossible to distinguish his mana from anything else around yourself.
Mana sense seemed to smoothly sweep over him and leave no lingering presence to be discovered, or so, as it had been in the past he never had any troubles disappearing.
Foregoing the assessment that he should work with another Connor believed that if he was meant to run into someone, they would magically appear, and just help him delve through the information, an inconspicuous ally would be appreciated but was not essential.
An acquaintance would be a subtle nod to the higher-ups that he had connections with, it might even be worth his time should he be able to vouch for sussing them out himself.

He peered out of a nearby window, shaking his head, counting his heartbeats, his breaths.
Connor hears the doors creak a little bit, the people downstairs being too noisy to notice his shuffling footsteps.
Few people mentioned metaphorical knowledge of the state of affairs of the nation.
Fewer still were informative, grim perspectives crusted with causalities, death on both sides, dispensing of justice they felt they deserved.
These were the people Connor mentally ascribed to avoid, they would more than kick the living crap out of him.
Veterans and senior officers, grunts were less pragmatic; however, it seemed that they were just as oblivious to his dubious deeds as their younger counterparts.
Withdrawing from the occupied parts of the archive, so far, Connor had a non-confrontational journey seeking information.
There were mentions of inordinate deeds, these did not impress him, he was looking for sordid details.
War crimes.
The expected taxes were extortionate, people would find this out sooner or later.
Not a great expectation for the people, having to pay the military more and more because of a growing task force.
Being that times were hard already, more taxes would be devastating.
Perhaps the rogues could turn a profit knowing ahead of time, but to be honest, it would just create more competition.
There was little wiggle room for failing; incarceration, being cut from the cloth would do no good for him, Connor resigned to finding another entrance that was less heavily guarded them the one he was going for.

On the way, backtracking; retracing his footsteps, uncounted minutes passed as his focus on his breath began to stifle his vision.
He was now in a similar circumstance as to when he had just entered the location, the security still circumvented only in a minute fashion allowed him to escalate his escape rather than aid in penetrating the inner recesses of the archive.
Connor’s disguise was fashioned to obscure his identity, aid in blending into the shadows; he wore leather strips on his shoes to cushion his steps.
Unbelievably, there was a second person that seemed to stick out like a sore thumb; as the adage goes, it takes one to know one.
Not particularly startled by the man’s countenance, Connor noticed almost immediately his lack of mantle, an ally.
The only thing that would have turned Connor into a snivelling sack of potatoes would have been the archivist himself, as it were, it was not the case.
He exhibited a nonchalant charisma that comes with being where he was supposed to be, the usual rigmarole of knowing more than was healthy kept Connor on his feet.
This was not a chance encounter, having full well noticed that this man was present during the eclipse meeting.
Connor relieved his tension by blinking manually, breathing a sigh of relief, and extending an open hand with a smile that showed all of his teeth.

”Well, well, well, Blinky Bill; if it hadn’t been you, I might have cared. Let’s get on with this business, if you know what’s good for us; we’ll be succinct.”

Not overall wanting to be rude, he cut himself and his mannerisms short of a gruff pause, extending the courtesy of being a freelance thinker, 
his taciturn nature was presumptive only to a fault.
“I’ve cleared away into the damn place, but have found a bit of a roadblock; Colly Moppet.”
Using a colloquial expression for Bob; who was Connor’s uncle, he was only really expecting his strange slang to fly because he had little time to explain every phrase that passed out of his lips.
Whether it was a fluent thought that he could express or not, lucidity was not always Connor’s sole defining factor.
His attention was elsewhere although he was poignantly making a liberal expression that boasted they had little time, being that the Raven’s were barracking for the blues; Connor always had some inane difficult conveying all of what he intended to say, but he hoped that matters more prevalent were a more profound way of expressing they had little time to make sense to one another.
They both knew what they were there for.
No time to skin a cat; or argue on how best to flog it first, setting it on fire wouldn’t cook it if they didn’t get what they were looking for, Connor’s thoughts while not reasonably sane were affected by performance anxiety, but he did his best not to show it.
Bravado would do little for him at the moment, he relied on the other person being more genuinely adequate as far as he was concerned, as Connor was rather off the plot, knowing any second could be his last free expenditure of being an ordinary civilian, either way.
The joust was simple, get some interesting information they didn’t already know, how could they fail; despite not knowing what it is that they already knew?
The Raven’s consort was adamant that something could be found, which lead Connor to believe that this task would be more difficult than their words had intended for it to be.
Perhaps this was all just a trap, one that had caught Connor, hook line and sinker.
It would be an efficient means by which to thrash the competition.
Folding on those people you had sent to do a job, the rudimentary logic of his cynical thoughts almost made his blood freeze.
Connor prayed, earnestly, that he would be able to surmount this task, with his whole being.

Word Count: 2,260.

The man hugged him, while not strictly odd, it was an overly familiar gesture that he was not expecting and it unnerved Connor.
Whispering into his ear as if to a lover, Connor felt almost violated by the man’s integrity.
This was a level of human contact that was usually reserved for good friends, Connor couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.
Everyone needed a hug now and then.
Connor rested his head on the man’s shoulder, feigning disinterest in the whole affair.
As he straightened up Connor got some distance from him and stepped back.
“That’s enough touch and tickle,” he spoke with the steady eagerness of a man that was neither steady nor eager, “We have work to do.”
Given the circumstances, Connor listened to the man’s proposition with a levelled attitude, rifling a coin between his fingers although appearing alert and listening.
Relieved the man hadn’t motioned to kiss him, Connor proceeded to offer his preposition in rebuttal, “I can cause a distraction; fair enough, just make sure to get something worth our time, yeah?”
His placidity was like a room full of money, stacking itself up and causing an exorbitant amount of stress on its owner.
He added for good measure a small jest to lighten the mood, “And less tongue next time, please.”
Motioning for the job to proceed; without any more ineffectually sincere moments, Connor proceeded to cast his map spell.
“Glean.”

Shiny dust sprung from his grimoire, golden in hue, and coarse in texture.
Of course, a distraction couldn't be too subtle and as it spread out across the floor in front of them, a shimmering circle to their right took form.
The map detailed the places Connor had already visited.
Small crosses marked doors that we're guarded, circles indicated windows that we're open and large expanses of unglowing gold lifelessly hinted at areas that were yet unexplored.
The map was both a reference and a courtesy, one he extended unapologetically.
The distraction was the circle that acted as a scout, for many lines of work this golem had been Connor’s faithful companion.
He snapped his fingers together to get the guard’s attention, a slight sheen of greed shone on the man’s face as a coin rolled past him.
Although it was odd for an errant coin to be passing by so lithely, the guard’s sense of propriety wasn’t so much integral to the plan.
Losing focus on his prescribed position, he wandered off after the coin which tugged sharply to the left and around the corner.
If there was a small window of opportunity for either the two of them or just the one to get inside, this was it.
Connor; with unerring disbelief, watched as the guard turned the corner after the coin.
When things went smoothly, it was hard to be anything but stricken by awe.
The simple greed exhibited by some people was astounding.

---

Word Count: 494
Total Word Count: 2,754

Mana Math/Spells Used.
Glean

Change

Total Mana: 50/50
Mana Usage: 20
Mana Regeneration: 20

Connor took the initiative and followed the white-haired man’s lead.
The hand sign wasn’t unfamiliar but Connor feigned a disinterested expression, he was, after all, a scout himself.
This level of intimacy was highly unusual and it took Connor by surprise.
The taste of the man’s hand was as to be expected, sweaty and had a slight grit to it; the experience was offsetting and slightly discomforting.
Connor rolled his eyes as the guards passed them, Connor had discontinued his spells and was plotting his next addition to the map when he gestured for him to flip a bird.
Overall, Connor was slightly taken askew by the level of how ‘hands-on this particular purse snatcher was.
He brushed himself off, distancing himself from the white-haired individual, checking his pockets first to see if anything was missing.
You never could be too sure about these entry-level guys.
Hugging you and getting their hands all over you, was enough to make Connor wary of his associate in a pragmatically heterosexual way.
Connor gestured for them to move quietly as he pointed a single finger in the direction of where they had come from, in a sobering moment of pantomime he wandered off on a seemingly efficient tangent.
It meant nothing, however, but, Connor wanted to gauge how much nonsense this purse snatcher would deal with, if not to lighten the mood than to simply arrange between them that this was the precipitous moment that they couldn’t turn back.
Connor had imbibed an otherwise unhealthy amount of salacious facts about the magic knights but nothing that seemed too juicy.
Taxes, demons, bribes and a few unremarkable mentions of damages to locales.
As unappetising as the information was to have risked his life for, he was hoping; preying on the fact, they wouldn’t have guarded this place for no reason.
The Eclipse Ravens wouldn’t have asked for such mundane information, however starling it may have been to discover.
There was something here that would rock the foundation of the knights to their core, but Connor for the life of him couldn’t figure what it was.

Word Count: 358
Total Word Count: 3,112

The secret passage was something Connor hadn't noticed, almost embarrassed he re-evaluated his partnership with this guy.
It took some seriously sharp senses to notice something like that, Connor would have to praise him later when they had the time.
As for now, his heartbeat was leaping out of his chest, the idea of being caught did not whet his appetite for lingering here for too much longer.
Connor listened mutely to the man’s appraisal of the situation, if a secret doorway wasn’t defence enough, they would be going through an extraordinary amount of effort to conceal what ever was in this place.
He wanted to clear his throat but paused to reflect instead, this wouldn’t be the worst time to cut tail and run, but he thought otherwise.
The information he had gleaned had been sufficient, but Connor couldn’t help but overachieve as far as this was concerned.
What information would mar his respect for the military?
Perhaps he would find something that he could really sink his teeth into.
“I’ll let you lead this expedition.”
Not being overly familiar with this area would be dangerous enough, it was always a good idea to have an exit strategy so Connor looked for a way out other than the way they had come.
A window, a door or even an opportunity to hide was what he sought, but in the darkness and gloom he was running out of advantages.

Word Count: 244
Total Word Count: 3,356

His blood ran cold, money wasn’t worth facing a creature of such proportions.
He slowly crept back a step before stifling his breath, the faint rhythmic thumping of the gryphons heartbeat on the floorboards was only perceptible because Connor was listening for it.
What the magic knights did in their spare time wasn’t immediately Connor’s first thought.
How could they have subdued such a cumbersome beast?
Connor was beginning to suspect that he was out of his depth, he knelt on the ground very slowly trying to slow his own heartbeat.
Couldn’t they have opted to have walked through another room?
He had never seen such a creature or beast like this, being an ordinary citizen he wasn’t privy to such momentous occasions.
It’s majesty left him speechless and quite very nearly breathless, many errant thoughts began to maddeningly curb his enthusiasm, but as he was frozen to the spot Ryoshi had found what they were looking for.
As the information was conveyed in a hushed tone, Connor took a very calculated step back towards the secret door they had entered from.
Demons, gryphons, the magic knights making deals.
It was all too surreal to be anything but a work of fiction, but no, this was the reality of the world he lived in.
He spoke in a whisper, so as to not draw the gryphons attention.
They had come this far, failure now would be critically abysmal, potentially life threatening.
“If I ever tell you I can’t believe something, slap me.”
He watched mutely as Ryoshi elaborated which direction the exit was in by ways of his positioning.
Connor followed him, being this brief and brisk was the work of a saint; a blessing in disguise.
Escape was a good word, so was abscond, Connor couldn’t decide which of the two they were attempting, but they both had a safe feel to them.
The guards outside the hidden door were making their rotations; a brief fortune, a window of opportunity to make their get away.
Connor thanked his lucky stars as he idled through the doorway, a dark room; the airflow keening the hairs on the back of his neck.
The breath of a gryphon fuelling the short draft.
By the time that they had both made it outside the archive, Connor sincerely praised Ryoshi for his deliberate heads up.
“Thank you for… well I don’t know; but thank you.”
In short, they would have to return to the inn where they had accepted this job.
And as they hadn’t run into any other would-be thieves, he wondered just how many of them there would be upon returning from this damned business.

Word Count: 453
Total Word Count: 3,809