Disclaimer: The Secret World and all associated characters, settings, and situations are the property of Funcom and Electronic Arts. All use of them here is purely for entertainment purposes, without permission or intention to profit.


Assignment

Wednesday, November 1, 3:14PM
Temple Hall, Ealdwic, London


"Come in and sit down," Richard Sonnac directs, guiding me into his richly-furnished office and closing the door behind us. I pick out my favorite chair, a slightly overstuffed leather one, while he sits down across from me behind the desk and fold his hands. "The time has come to discuss the details of your upcoming excursion to the Colonies, or at least, what details we know." He gives a slight frown and his expression turns serious. "I know you're concerned for your family and would probably like to see them again, but we have no indication that they are in danger, and we have more pressing matters to attend to. I'm afraid I must insist that this trip be strictly business, not pleasure."

"I understand, sir," I say automatically.

That brings a slight smile. "Please, Chris, Sonnac will do. I know the Brigadier likes to keep things formal in training, but I prefer a more personable style of communication."

I smile back at him. "Of course," I say, managing to leave off the sir, but only just. Then the conversation turns to more serious matters as both our smiles fade. "You said before that you're sending me to the New England coast? To an island?"

"Solomon Island." He nods soberly. "Recently, a small island community off the New England coast dropped off the map. The official story was a storm at first, and now it's a training exercise by the US Department of Defense…but you can disregard all the tiresome government cover-ups. There are dark forces at play."

"What kind of dark forces?" I ask, hoping it'll be an answer less frightening than the Rakshasa chained in the training room or the Filth-tainted zombies from the weird dream I had.

"If we knew that, we wouldn't have to send you," says Sonnac. "It could be any number of things. The list is far too extensive to prepare you for all the possibilities, and with the way strange events have been accelerating across the globe…well, it could be anything."

I swallow and nod, reminding myself that I spent the last week in intensive training for just this. "What do we know about the island?"

"A good deal, but none of it very helpful," says Sonnac, rising and beginning to pace. "The major town is Kingsmouth, population just under two thousand. Major industries are fishing, mining, and tourism. They have a website, if that helps, but it probably won't."

"I'll have Micah look it up," I say.

He nods. "That is all we know about the Island's present, or what was its present up until three days ago. What we know about their past is far more concerning." He turns toward me. "Solomon Island is a rock with infamy. In centuries of yore, it was trafficked by the Illuminati, before they joined the rush to New York. As you're aware we have…history with the Illuminati, acrimonious history. Of course, under the flag of truce we have spat and made up, and now we are the closest of enemies: all smiles above the table, and drawn knives beneath it."

"Sounds like going into Solomon Island will be like kicking over a hornet's nest, then," I say, frowning. "Will we risk war if we go there?"

"In force, with as little knowledge and justification as we have right now? We might," he says. "But we cannot stand idly by. The Illuminati are reckless and cannot be relied upon to clean up their own messes. We must find the root of whatever doom has come to Solomon Island. That is your assignment."

"A scouting mission?" I say. I think I can handle that. I don't feel well enough trained to join the Templar guards, but poking around on an island I could probably handle.

"Exactly," says Sonnac. "You are strictly to observe and report. Do not engage the Illuminati, and do not try to be a hero." He looks me in the eye. "Let me stress: this is not a rescue operation. You are not the army of the Templars, and even if you were, our goal is the salvation of all mankind, not on a case-by-case basis."

I straighten a little in my chair. "Mankind is made up of individuals though: it's a case-by-case basis or nothing," I say.

"Not when you're gambling with the entire population of the world—and with disasters the scale of the Tokyo Incident, we may well be," Sonnac says. "You go to the island. You observe and report back to us. There may be survivors—godwilling there are—, and you can help them as you carry out your mission, but understand that you are not to announce to anyone that you've been chosen to deliver them from evil. Joan of Arc did, and look where that got her."

I open my mouth to point out that this isn't quite what happened to Joan of Arc, then it occurs to me that I heard of her before I learned about the existence of the Templars and the Secret World, and that there's a real possibility that I didn't hear the truth about her at all. I close my mouth again and nod.

"I understand that all this may stick in your throat, but…well, halos are fading all over town now that so much more is at stake," Sonnac finishes, returning to his own side of the mahogany desk.

"Hmph, halos indeed," says a deep voice behind me.

I jump out of my chair, startled to find Brigadier Lethe, my trainer, standing in the doorway. For a large man with a brace on one leg, he can move surprisingly silently.

He gives up all pretense of stealth now, though and marches into the room, holding an AK-47 with a grenade launcher under the barrel in his massive hands. For a moment, the scowl on his face and the weapon in his hands make me fear the worst and I instinctively reach for my concealed holster inside my jacket—only to realize that of course it isn't there and neither is my handgun. State-issued concealed-carry permits aren't internationally recognized, after all.

If the Brigadier sees my reaction, he ignores it. A moment later, he defuses my fears anyway. He pulls back the bolt on the rifle and removes the magazine, revealing that both it and the chamber are empty, then he thrusts the gun into my hands. "Like I told you, girl, when you're done with your training, you get to keep it." He slams a second empty magazine down on the desk hard enough to scratch the mahogany. Sonnac winces and the Brigadier glares at him.

"One bloody week," the Brigadier says to Sonnac. "Christ Almighty, you didn't even give me that! I'm not a bloody miracle worker, Sonnac. You send her out there with this little training and her blood is on your hands!"

"I believe Miss Warden has demonstrated she is quite capable of taking care of herself, Mr. Lethe," Sonnac replies with a calm I wish I could feel. "We have few alternatives, and she is a Bee, so—"

"That doesn't make her bloody invincible!" Lethe interrupts. "She's not an immortal."

"What does this have to do with how I got my powers?" I ask, stepping cautiously toward the men.

Sonnac turns to me. "I'm sure you've heard the term from your brother by now. It's not very difficult to look up. The means by which you obtained your powers makes you part of a group of gifted individuals with certain common traits, known informally as Bees." He glances at Brigadier Lethe, who is still glaring at him. "One of those traits is that when your body is physically exhausted, to the point when an ordinary human would die, you are carried away in anima form to one of the numerous intersections of ley lines around the globe which form springs of magical energy—anima wells if you will. There your body can be healed and restored, effectively resurrected without any permanent harm. I'm told some Bees even use it as a speedy mode of transit, though I cannot condone such a practice."

"So I can't die?" I ask, trying to take it all in.

"Not quite so," Sonnac corrects. "As the Brigadier pointed out, you are not immortal, nor are you invulnerable. That being said, killing a Bee is a thing not easily done, which is one reason why you are an ideal scout in this situation." He looks back to Lethe. "The other reason being that our manpower and resources have been stretched to their limits and beyond. Quite simply, we have no one else to spare."

"Then for Christ's sake wait for another agent to be available," Lethe says. His mask of anger slips for a moment and I see something else…concern, sorrow. I don't know whether to be shocked or touched.

"We cannot wait, Lethe," says Sonnac. "The mission will not wait. Right now two thousand people are missing, possibly dead, and for all we know they could be the first of millions or even billions of lives lost to whatever darkness has swallowed this island. We cannot wait. The world cannot afford the delay."

"I'll go," I say. "An order's an order, and it's important work. I know the risks, and I'll face them myself."

Lethe shakes his head. "You don't know the risks, girl. You don't know anything about the world out there." He turns then and stalks toward the door, muttering, "Pray you never do, girl, pray you never do." Then he slams the door behind him and is gone.

Sonnac turns to me. "I'm sorry you had to witness that," he says. "The Brigadier is very protective of his recruits, and with good reason. Ours is a dangerous world."

"I'm prepared to face the danger," I say. After all, I joined the Templars not only to be able to tame my powers but to be able to put them to a good use. Saving a small town of 2,000 people, or at the least finding out what happened to them, seems like a good start.

"As much as I commend your enthusiasm, Lethe is right. You are not quite ready, but you can be made ready enough in a short time." He steps around the desk and removes a decorative wooden box from it. He hands it to me. "For you, Chris, to help you in your first mission."

I carefully set down the assault rifle and open the box to find two small semi-automatic pistols inside, along with shoulder holsters for each of them and a fitted white shirt. I recognize the make of the guns immediately. "These are my guns!" I exclaim. "XD-S .45's!" They're the same kind my father got me for concealed carry—not a fun shooting gun, but one I can keep concealed on my person easily enough and hopefully use to save my life in a pinch.

"I took the liberty of reviewing your information and procuring these for you: including shoulder holsters for carrying under a coat or jacket, and an undershirt with built-in holster pockets for more active occasions," Sonnac explained. "I thought you could use a more discrete alternative to toting around a large weapon that screams I am armed and dangerous to anyone who happens by. Lethe told me your pistol work was very impressive."

I frown. "He also said I'd need to learn to shoot two guns at the same time to do anything to a real monster. I still don't think I can do that." I know the inaccuracy of my shots and the recoil I feel is all in my mind, because I'm not firing real bullets and my magic simply does what I tell it to. Still it's hard to convince myself not to expect terrible results if I tried to fire two of these guns at the same time, since I remember my own pocket .45 kicked like a moose.

"You will learn in time," Sonnac assures me. "With practice, your control of your magic grows stronger. Look how far you've come since you began your training here. In the field, you'll grow much faster, and by the time you return to us, you may be able to do things not even we knew were possible." He smiles, then lays his hands on the box, closing it again. "That's not all I'm giving you, though. The box itself is a gift." He turns the key in the front, then opens the box again. Now it's empty.

"A secret compartment?" I ask, amazed. The box had been almost full a moment before, and it's no bigger than a shoe box.

"Nothing so mundane," says Sonnac. "This is an arcane device commonly referred to as a send-box. They come in pairs." He moves to his mantelpiece, where an identical wooden box sits. "And this is its mate. Observe." He opens the lid of the other box. Inside, I catch sight of my pistols and the straps of the shoulder holsters. "Close the lid, turn the key, and whatever was in one box is now in the other." As he speaks, he demonstrates, closing the lid on the other box and turning its key like he did my own.

He then motions for me to open my box and I do…and find the pistols and the rest of my new gear arranged inside as before. "Amazing!" I say.

"It is a time-tested and very practical way for us to send and receive materials from our agents in the field," says Sonnac. "Your phone will be our main point of contact, as it is much more efficient, but samples and material aid can be sent securely by box."

"Thank you," I say, holding the box close.

"That's not all," says Sonnac. He goes behind his desk and opens a small drawer. "You will need these as well." He gestures to the drawer's contents and I come over to watch as he removes the items one by one and explains their purpose.

"This is a spellbook," he says, removing a pocket-sized leather journal from the drawer, carefully handling it with a handkerchief, not touching it directly. "It will bind to the first person who touches it, which should be you."

He hands it to me and I take it cautiously, expecting a shock or something, but I don't feel anything. I flip through the pages and find that all of them are blank. "It's empty," I say.

"Give it a minute to adjust to you, and the first few pages will fill up with descriptions of all the spells you know. New spells will be added as you learn them, and the book can also identify most arcane substances on contact, which is why it is very important to store it in a safe, dry place." He hands me a small ziplock bag and I seal the book inside before tucking it into my jacket pocket.

"The rest of these are various talismans. They are enchanted items that can be used to amplify your anima, making you a stronger survivor, healer, or warrior," he explains, gesturing to the other contents of the drawer. "There are head talismans, major talismans, and minor talismans. The distinction is of mostly academic concern, except on one point. Only one head talisman and three of any other kind of talisman may affect a person at any time. These seven items are the normal starting talismans of an agent in the field, but you may find something more suitable in your travels, or we may be able to send you better equipment once we know more about your situation. If you concentrate, you can probably sense their magic."

I squint my eyes and stare at the objects: a cup of ashes, a little diamond ring, a jeweled pendant, a thick brass bracelet, a fragment of bone, a black leather belt, and a small pair of dice. They seem pretty ordinary. I don't even think the jewels are real stones. However, as I concentrate on them, I sense something…power: heard, not seen, buzzing around the objects like the hum of an overhead line…like the drone of a hive of bees.

"Normally, these are given with more decorum," says Sonnac, bringing me back to reality. "However, as our time is short, I will give them to you now." He dips a thumb into the ashes. "I'll need to impose these on your forehead," he says, motioning for me to push back my bangs. I do so and he draws a cross on my forehead with the ashes. I remember hearing that a lot of churches do this for Palm Sunday (though not any church I've ever been to). I never imagined it could have real protective powers, but I can feel the power buzzing through me after he applies them.

Sonnac takes the ring next. "Hold out your right hand," he instructs, and slips the little band around my ring finger. I feel stronger as a result. He places the thick band, the brass bracer, around my left wrist. It looks tacky there, so I cover it up with the sleeve of my black-and-white striped hoodie. Even so, it makes me feel protected. Sonnac goes around behind me and while I hold back my hair he fastens the slim chain of the jeweled pendant around my neck. Again, the feeling of power increases.

By the time he's had me place the dice in my right pocket, the bone in my left, and buckle the black leather belt around my waist, I feel like I'm ready to take on the world. I can't help but grin as the air around me fairly hums with power.

Then, I remember my apartment. I remember the lightning, wind, and fire—the unfathomable power I wielded before my training, and its ruinous results. My grin fades. I almost want to take all the talismans off and give them back to Sonnac, or throw them into the nearest gutter. I do not feel ready for this kind of power. I do not know if I ever will be, but at the same time, I know I will need it—along with all my other gear and training—if I'm to have any chance against whatever strange forces have laid claim to Solomon Island.

Sonnac senses the change in my mood and nods his approval. No words are needed. This is a sobering enterprise. "Your travel arrangements have already been made with the Ealdwic Underground," he tells me. "Leave as soon as you can. More lives are counting on you than you know."

"Yes, sir," I say. I slowly collect my things from my chair, slinging the rifle over my shoulder and tucking the spare magazine (which I suppose is just there for appearances—I don't really need to reload, since I'm firing magic) into the pocket of my jacket. Then I pick up the send box, careful to keep it closed without turning the key. I turn to Sonnac, who has already resumed work at his desk. "How will I get to Solomon Island from the Underground?" I ask. If the Templars have a secret trans-Atlantic subway line, this will be the first I've heard of it.

Sonnac allows himself a small smile. "By something far better and simpler than conventional means," he says mysteriously. "The Conductor will explain everything. Be on your guard out there, and I will be in touch."

I nod, realizing this is the only explanation I'll get out of him. Then I turn and leave, heading back to my flat at the Redcrosse Circus.


Author's Note: The first half of this conversation is based on the cutscene with Sonnac that gives the Templar introduction to Solomon Island. Of course, it's been modified somewhat in order to make it a dialogue, since the player character in TSW is a heroic mute, apparently. The second is my invention. I can imagine Lethe getting angry about having his recruit thrown into the field so quickly, and someone had to point out that this was rather unusual. The talismans are given in the game without any accompanying story: simply appearing in one's inventory inside the Crucible (or applicable training area, depending on your faction). This was my attempt to work them into the story.

The send-box is also my invention, and an explanation for how you can receive rewards for quests. We'll see how it plays out as a plot device. The pistols inside are real guns designed for concealed carry, and while they are very good for what they're designed to do the tiny, light frame and large caliber combine to make them an uncomfortable weapon to fire, in my own experience. They do not appear in the game, but a pair of nameless starter pistols are one of the possible rewards for completing Tier 1 of the "Dawning of an Endless Night" story mission.