[center][h1][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5157586] [color=MediumAquamarine]Arin von Astastel[/color][/url][/h1][/center]
Arin von Astastel was sitting, letter in hand, in the garden with his guest sitting right across the table from him. The guest, an emissary from Ovyadell, traveled a great distance to inform House Astastel that they had been summoned to Ironkeep to help the King on a delicate situation and to also warn them about a potential family matter. 

According to the letter, various objects from Eastormel Castle started vanishing. At first, they were minor items that ultimately would not be missed. Even though theft against the monarch was a grievous crime, the items themselves were not valuable enough to warrant a serious investigation. The situation started to become more concerning when items of higher value started to go missing. It was not, however, until a priceless family heirloom called the Dark Dagger was stolen from the castle’s vault that the series of petty thefts turned into full-blown lese-majesty. 

While the theft against the sovereign power was of no concern to House Astastel ---or Arin for that matter---, the relic itself and the rumors that surrounded the ancient land did pique their interest for some time. Could the Dark Dagger be the one? Even if it wasn’t, Ovyadell could still hold the answer, a hint at the very least.

The second matter, the “familial” variety, was less of a problem and more of an annoyance. Fairly recently, a scam using the von Astastel name was reported to the authorities. There had been several swindles occurring prior that used the surname of other influential families. Investigation strongly suggested that all these scams, the von Astastel one included, were done by a con artist duo who hailed from the Underground, a lawless land neighboring Ovyadell. Though the Underground was not technically part of Ovyadell ---and thus not their responsibility--- Arin could only assume that the emissary mentioned these scams to him because the Ovyadell nobility wanted to show off how diligent they were, likely in the hope that House Astastel would feel indebted to Ovyadell and send someone to help them find the Dark Dagger. An unnecessary measure, but one that Arin duly noted. There was one thing that he had to ask, however.

“[color=MediumAquamarine]Did these men---… Ralph and Philippe.[/color]” Arin folded the letter and placed in back into its envelope.
“Fredrick and Douglas, sir.” 
Arin waved his hand dismissively, “[color=MediumAquamarine]It does not matter what their given names are.[/color]” [i][color=MediumAquamarine]Or were.[/color][/i] The elf turned his head to look at the emissary. “[color=MediumAquamarine]Did these men introduce themselves as ‘I-do-not-care-what-their-names-are’ von Astastel?[/color]”
One of the emissary’s eyebrows arched, “I… do not think people would report being swindled by a von Astastel if these men did not say they were von Astastel.”
Arin smirked, “[color=MediumAquamarine]You would be surprised.[/color]” The smirk faded as he sighed. “[color=MediumAquamarine]As ludicrous as this may sound, it is vitally important that I know whether or not these men introduced [i]themselves[/i] as…[/color]” Arin made a random hand gesture to imply that a name, any name would do, was said in silence, “[color=MediumAquamarine]--- von Astastel.[/color]”
“Yes. More specifically,” the emissary glanced down to read the paper that was placed on the table, “They said that their names were Huard von Astastel and Eadgar von Astastel.” 
“[color=MediumAquamarine]They introduced themselves individually.[/color]”
“Yes.”

The emissary looked back up to see Arin’s brows furrow. The elf diverted his gaze away from his guest as he seemed to lose himself in thought. A few awkward seconds passed before the elf finally returned his attention to the emissary, this time, with an obviously fake smile masking his face. 

“[color=MediumAquamarine]Many apologies. This whole ordeal is… quite distressing as you can imagine.[/color]”
“Of course, sir.”
“[color=MediumAquamarine]Do you have a list of the victims?[/color]”
“Yes, they are written here.” The emissary pointed at the paper on the table.
“[color=MediumAquamarine]Which ones have been tricked by ‘Huard’ and ‘Eadgar’ von Astastel?[/color]”
Lifting the paper from the table, the emissary pointed at the names which were under the column titled “von Astastel”.
“[color=MediumAquamarine]Perfect. May I?[/color]” Arin opened his hand towards the paper, which was quickly snatched away from the emissary the moment it touched his skin. His eyes scrolled down the list of names, “[color=MediumAquamarine]The House of Astastel will do our best to compensate these individuals.[/color]”
“How generous of you.”
“[color=MediumAquamarine]Not out of the kindness of my heart, I assure you.[/color]”
The emissary gave an understanding nod. 

Arin turned his head and called out, “[color=MediumAquamarine]Someone? Anyone around? I need some assistance.[/color]” A beat later, a giant of a man appeared out from the shadow of a pillar right behind the elf. Almost as if he had been hiding there the entire time. “[color=MediumAquamarine]Make sure these people are paid handsomely for their troubles.[/color]” He silently took the paper from Arin’s hand. “[color=MediumAquamarine]Oh, and also…[/color]” the man leaned down when Arin motioned for him to get closer. The elf whispered, “[color=MediumAquamarine][i]Find them.[/i][/color]”


[hr]
Finding one of the scammers turned out to be a much easier endeavor than initially anticipated. Although, admittedly, the search was expedited thanks to the scammer causing a huge ruckus in a city close to the one the main estate was located at. One of Arin’s uncles jokingly said that “von Astastels love to stick together,” but Arin was confident that that remark was not far from the truth. Minus the love part, naturally. 

Eyewitness accounts stated that the scammer came running into the city’s inn in a state of hysteria and delirium. He was an absolute mess: he was covered in mud and what seemed to be traces of blood, holding a knife, and missing a shoe. Based on the bits and pieces of his incoherent ramblings, one could deduce that he had been running from, what he claimed to be, “monsters” since his last scam. When asked what his name was, he struggled to get any name out.

This was enough for the city guards to identify the man as a von Astastel and promptly contacted the family. Incidents like this were not unheard of since Astastel became a name of influence. The House paid the surrounding cities, towns, and villages well enough to have them report such incidents if and when they occurred. Extra if they brought “these types” of von Astastels to the estate.

The crazed man needed to be sedated to be safely transported. Although it was not enough to knock an adult out, the calmness brought on by the drugs seduced the man to sleep. It must have been days, maybe even weeks, since he properly slept. [color=MediumAquamarine][i]He is one of the fortunate ones. At least the symptoms are still manageable.[/i][/color]

Arin studied the filthy man who slept across from him in the carriage. “[color=MediumAquamarine]So,[/color]” he asked, “[color=MediumAquamarine]which one are you? ‘Huard’ or ‘Eadgar’?[/color]” The question was rhetorical, of course. This man’s name never mattered. Besides, even if he was conscious it was unlikely that he would be able to answer even the simplest of questions. At least, not until his “birthday party”. 

“[color=MediumAquamarine]Let me be the first to welcome you into the family, ‘cousin’.[/color]”


[hr]
In House Astastel birthdays were a type of celebration that one could only be the star of once in their lifetime: the day when they were officially introduced into the House. Arin had his the day he was born and remembered nothing about it, but he had witnessed a number of other Astastels’ birthdays to know what the celebration entailed. The “party” was less of a festive occasion and more like an initiation-ceremony. 

Every family member who were able to participate, gathered at a large room that could be easily mistaken as the interior of a cathedral. Though there was nothing sacred about the place. The only symbol in the grand hall was the family crest, but very few worshipped the insignia like how a pious individual would worship their deity. It was a powerful symbol, however, and there was no denying its effect on their lives. For better and for worse. 

Silently, the family watched the scammer ---who was now both very clean and very nude--- be dragged front and center of the hall. It was evident that whatever concoction that was given to him to calm his nerves had completely worn off. He screamed and furiously struggled to break free from the bonds. By the time he was strapped down to the altar, the man started to sob, praying to a God, any God, to save him from this den of demons.

“Now, now dear, don’t be rude.” An elderly woman walked over to the alter to gently pat the man’s back. “Everyone here took time out of their busy schedules just to make sure you feel welcomed.” Two other family members approached the woman holding out trays filled with sharp objects and other questionable items. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but…,” she picked up a bottle filled with antiseptic and applied it onto the man’s skin, “your prayers fall on deaf ears. The Gods, spirits, whatever that is that you believe in have abandoned you the moment you uttered our name and claimed it as your own.” When she heard the man make a sound that sounded vaguely like a whimper, she softly shushed him, “Oh sweetheart, it’s okay. Everything will be alright. The Gods may have abandoned you, but we will not. We’re your family now… and family… well, we stick together.”

Arin glanced over to the uncle who previously said something similar and received a wink from him before he looked back at the altar. The elder was placing something into the scammer’s mouth. “Make sure you bite on to this. We don’t want you to accidentally bite off your tongue, do we?” She picked up one of the knives from the tray, “Now, let us begin.”

The next hour and a half were as loud and painful, but not nearly as bloody as a live birth would have been. Even when things did get a bit gruesome, no one, not even the most squeamish of individuals, looked away from the ritual. The only time anyone “looked away” was when they had to blink. They all waited patiently for it to end and when it finally did, they clapped in unison, congratulating him; regardless of what they truly felt about the new addition to the family. He was now one of them.


[hr]
When Arin arrived at Eastormel Castle, he was escorted to one of the waiting rooms where he spent the time enjoying his tea and eating biscuits until one of the servants came to retrieve him. House Astastel already sent word that they were sending Arin and what reward they wanted for helping the investigation, thus the elf felt no need to be present when the King made his announcement to the masses. He was used to mingling with others, but he wanted to avoid large gatherings as much as possible. 

Arin was heading towards the throne room when a familiar face approached him. The elf expected to only exchange a short greeting, but the emissary wanted to update him about the scammers. “We found Douglas’ body.”
“[color=MediumAquamarine]Who?[/color]”
“One of the swindlers, sir. We found his body outside of Ironkeep yesterday. He was torn into pieces by some wild animals. He was starting to rot, so I can only imagine that it had been days since he died.” 
Arin stared at the emissary with a blank expression, “[color=MediumAquamarine]Do you know how he died?[/color]”
“Unfortunately, no… The damage to the body was too severe when we found him. We still cannot find some parts of him. He could have been attacked by wolves or slipped on a rock and broke his neck. Maybe his partner stabbed him to death. There is no way to know for certain.”
“[color=MediumAquamarine]I see… Thank you for keeping me informed.[/color]”
“I apologize that we could not find him sooner. His partner is still at large so we will continue to do our best to apprehend him.”
Arin smirked, “[color=MediumAquamarine]I wish you the best of luck.[/color]” 
“Thank you, sir.” With that, the two said their farewells and parted ways.

By the time Arin reached the throne room, there were only four volunteers left: a human, a woman who he was not entirely sure was human or an elf ---perhaps a half-breed---, an elf, and, much to Arin’s surprise, a dragonkin. How rare it was to see his kind in these parts. Arin continued to scrutinize the others as they introduced themselves, wondering what skills they would bring to the table… and whether or not they were a potential threat. One of them might even be the thief, or working with the thief, that stole the dagger in the first place. What’s a better place to hide than amongst those who want to catch you?

Just as everyone else finished introducing themselves, Arin straightened his back and confidently strode his way towards the group. He stopped before the royal family and bowed deeply. “[color=MediumAquamarine]And I am Arin from House Astastel, at your service, your majesty.[/color]”