[GM Post]

The next minute or two was quite awkward, for the few night-shift guards. Matilda herself was unmoving as a statue, with a mean glare to match. Thankfully it didn't take long before a hastily dressed man with an impressive scar across his face hurried out of the tent. Armed, of course. But the sword was sheathed. And he hadn't ordered the men to attack. Good enough.

[i]"What- Dame Matilda. It's really you."[/i] The greying man stood straighter, and winced as he counted the standing guards. [i]"My men are gone, I assume."[/i]

[b][color=00a651]"You recognized me?"[/color][/b] That elicited a raised eyebrow. Matilda tried to remember, but couldn't quite place where she could've met the man. Looked like one of those army types, but there's no way she could remember everyone. [b][color=00a651]"Aye, my apologies. I acted with the best information I had."[/color][/b]

[i]"Aye, I was a sergeant in the army until the end of the rebellion a few years back. Didn't take too well to retirement, so I started my own company and goes from there. Name's Gilbert, by the way."[/i] Not much was changed in the mannerism, but the orc can see some tension leaving the shoulders. Some. This probably could still go south, if the wrong buttons were pushed. [i]"I've heard the details. Damn shame that was, but the boys know what they signed up for. Still, I can at least ask for their death to be compensated, hm? Gotta look after them, as their boss. And I'd like to bury the bodies, please."[/i]

[b][color=00a651]"I promise in my name that they'll receive a soldier's compensation for dying in the line of duty. Come visit me in the capital in a few days and it will be done."[/color][/b] Matilda didn't even think too hard about it. She nodded in agreement, turning around to speak without even seeing anyone in particular. Just several short minutes and her night vision were gone. [b][color=00a651]"V, retrieve the bodies please."[/color][/b]

And with that done, back at Gilbert.

[b][color=00a651]"Satisfied?"[/color][/b]

[i]"Good enough. I'd rather have the men back, but I know my limit. Now, let's get those boxes open. I'd like to see what caused the kingdom's finest to come at me and my boys, all ready for violence. Shouldn't have taken the contract, it's all fishy from start to finish. But men like us dies for wealth, aye?"[/i] He chuckled darkly. [i]"Get us some prybars, lad. I know you're all curious about the cargo."[/i]

The barn was opened. It's... actually so much cleaner than anyone could've expected, as if someone had thoroughly cleansed any farm-related filth beforehand. Several crates of various size were stacked neatly, but Matilda's eyes were immediately drawn on to the by far largest box there. No, to call it a box would be a disservice. The thing was the size of an entire shack, and had iron chains tightly wound around it. Wasn't the prince stuck in a single, windowless room? But if so, the captor must be nearby to keep watch on him. Her eyes narrowed, hand never straying far from the hilt of her sword and she kept her back away from the mercenaries.

[b][color=00a651]"The big one. Clear out the boxes surrounding it."[/color][/b]

The underlings took one glance at Gilbert, who nodded in assent. They immediately began to work at it, all conveniently standing in eyesight as they did. If those outside tried anything funny, Matilda was sure her compatriots will do something about it. For now, it's her show.

[i]"I'm sure you're curious about the contract. We've been here for... about two weeks? No, exactly two weeks. Some guy claiming to be a merchant from the capital, Smith and Sons Trading Company. Never heard of them before. Anyway, they want us to safeguard a secret batch of cargo that had, and I quote, 'attracted unwanted attention'. Whatever that meant. Normally I ain't touching that deal with a six foot pole, but the pay's generous. More than twice what we'd earn on a good month, and all that just to sit around doing nothing? Boys probably will lynch me if I refuse. That's how we get here."[/i]

Boxes were moved. A curious mercenary pried open a smaller one. It's filled with beddings, and not even the fancy kind. He scratched his head in confusion, then back to move more boxes.

[b][color=00a651]"And these employers of yours. No sight of them?"[/color][/b]

[i]"No, they actually shows up every three days. Almost exactly at midday, with the same wagon. Just like clockwork, they are. They come and go into the barn, supposedly to check the merchandise, hands over our wage, and leave. There's usually less boxes after each visit, but sometimes they got replaced. It starts to look legit after a while, I guess?"[/i] Gilbert shook his head. [i]"I'd call it too good to be true, but the money's the real deal. Honestly, we've made quite the killing. It's just the manner of the death doesn't sit quite right with me, yeah?"[/i]

Matilda didn't answer. The latest batch of removed crates revealed a door, plain and simply hidden behind other objects. She stepped forward, tugging at a chain but finding it wound solid to a padlock. Likely something that'll take at most a few minutes of effort for the "helpers" to dismantle, but impatience got the best of her. Drawing the heirloom sword, she angled the tip into the padlock and [i]forced [/i]it down.

The resulting metallic screech was almost like a protesting keen of a sentient tool being used for an improper purpose, but it's probably just the wind playing tricks. With the padlock gone the chains slithered off, clattering noisily around the large crate. Matilda glanced around, only to be met with a number of curious audience that not-so-subtly tried to peer into the crate. She snorted audibly.

[b][color=00a651]"Back off. If the person I seek is here, his identity is sensitive. And give me that prybar."[/color][/b]

They backed off, reluctantly. Instead they took to opening the smaller crates with renewed vigor. The orc may had claim the grand prize, but the smaller items probably wouldn't even interest her.

A pair of iron sliding locks, secured by more padlocks. A little huff and grunt and the entire edifice was pried off, the padlocks untouched. Then there's a modest handle with a keyhole underneath. Matilda wedged the beak of the prybar and was about to heave the last obstacle when the forgotten comm device pinged with Jazdia's voice. She snarled in annoyance, but listened in. Part of her considered to ignore it, but she pushed the thought away. Keeping up to date was important.

[b][color=00a651]"Finished? What do you mean finished, you found him [i]there?[/i]"[/color][/b] Was this place a red herring after all? [b][color=00a651]"No sign of the bear here. I think I'm close, just give me a minute."[/color][/b]

Stuffing the device back to the inner pocket, Matilda resumed opening the door with impatient fury. Several loud cracks later and it's finally pried off, and as the orc triumphantly flung the wooden panel open her expression froze on witnessing what's inside.

It wasn't a well-furnished room, with an elated prince welcoming the rescue.

An edifice of precisely cut stone, glass, and metal stood in the center, about as tall as a man. Its surface was dotted with mystical pattern of dizzying geometry, the lines glowing with otherworldly blue light. The inner side of the crate, in turn, was carved with rather similarly styled pattern. A chain reaction seemed to be ongoing, the patterns flaring brighter starting from the pried open door panel and spreading into the rest of it. The crate crumbled into many pieces, none seemingly larger than an inch, as if an impossibly sharp blade sliced it apart according to the pattern itself.

Then Matilda noticed that the bottom of the box wasn't glowing. Or more precisely, the glow was covered by a number of clay urns. She recognized the smell of black powder, and the telltale spark of a combustion. Her eyes widened as she realized that she had walked straight into a trap, and she barely had the time to raise an arm to cover her face when the terribly loud noise consumed the world.