JJ Doe

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

A voice came from behind Vuthaternock, “If this was an option, you should have told us when I asked the others to report the body.” Arin was looking at the wyvern devouring the man with keen interest. He was brewing potions when he saw the dragonborn walk outside with a body and was curious what he was planning to do with it, especially since no one called for the guards just yet. “It would have saved us the trouble of reporting it… but now that you did that after Mr. Greye most likely told the innkeeper… well, you know that makes him look bad, yes?” He turned his attention briefly back to the dragonkin, “I do hope you have the perfect excuse to tell the innkeeper or guards.”

He let a few seconds pass to admire the creature in the distance. “Does your cousin have a name?” He also wondered if it was who Vuthaternock was talking to every now and then. It was comforting to know that the dragonborn didn’t spend time speaking in draconic out loud just to show off that he can or that he lacked the ability to keep his internal monologue, internal.

Arin stayed outside just long enough to hear Vuthaternock’s response before he remembered that he was in the middle of brewing potions. “Well I shall leave two to it. I must return to the kitchen before I burn the potions.”

All of Arin’s tasks ---cleaning included--- completed only after the sun peaked out from the horizon. More and more people were waking up and becoming more active. The potman of the inn walked into the kitchen just as Arin confirmed the crystalized essence was fully absorbed by the wooden ring.

“Good morning, sir. You must be a very early riser, or you never went to bed.”
“It would be the latter.”
“Oh… it must have been a very important duty if you had to stay up all night.”

Arin offered a polite smile, avoiding a direct response. Instead, he thanked the lad, and by proxy the innkeeper, for allowing him to use the kitchen for the night. He reached out his hand towards the area of the kitchen he borrowed, as if to present it to the potman, “I made sure to clean up after myself. I hope this will suffice.”

The potman perused the kitchen, touching areas of most concern to him with his finger to see if anything would stick to it. His face lit up at the clean finger, “It is more than satisfactory, sir. You practically did my morning chore for me! I have never seen this kitchen this pristine before!” The young man covered his mouth, realizing that he probably shouldn’t have said that. He quickly tried to change the subject as subtlety as he possibly could, “I didn’t know nobles can clean up after themselves so well!”

I imagine that is what the nobles pay servants for. “I am not a noble.”

The potman looked surprised, “You’re not? You could’ve fooled me. I thought only nobles wear those clothes.”

Arin looked down at his attire. As the potman pointed out, his clothes were the kind commonly worn by nobility and wealthy merchants. The materials that made the outfit were valuable enough to buy most, if not all, of Timberholde. At the end of the day, however, it was a costume. Something to wear to feel important in front of people of influence to make them feel important. Outside the capital boundaries, it was a target.

Everything had been so rushed, Arin forgot that he was heading into a territory notorious for overflowing with lawbreakers, with luxurious garments on. He was careful when he chose the wooden ring to serve as a detector ---it was made of wood found anywhere and it had no decorative engravings, making it an unappealing item to steal---, but it would be meaningless if he was mugged because of what he wore. He needed to change.

Arin inspected the young man in front of him, who looked like he was as tall as Arin was and had close enough body types. The potman shifted uncomfortably under Arin’s gaze, “Is there something you need, sir?”

“As a matter of fact, there are a number of things I need. Can you run a few errands for me? I will pay you once you are done.”
“I can,” the potman sounded a little hesitant, unsure what the elf needed him to do.
“Do you have an apothecary or an herbalist?”
“We do.”
“Excellent,” Arin fished out a list and coins and handed them to the other man, “I would like you to buy these ingredients. Get as much as you can with the money I’ve given you.”
The potman visibly relaxed, seemingly relieved that Arin wasn’t asking him to do something unusual, “I can do that.”
“I would also like to buy your clothes off of you.”
The man stared dumbly at Arin.

A beat later Arin spoke, “Let me rephrase that. I would like to acquire some less flamboyant clothing. This trip was a bit sudden, so I did not have time to pack proper travel wear.” Arin spread his arms out to the sides, “It looks like we are of similar stature and build, so I thought I could persuade you to let me have a set of clothing… Unless I am mistaken in assuming that your village does not have a clothier.”

The man laughed a bit, “No, you are correct. Our village is much too small to have something as fancy as a clothier. My mother had to make my clothes.” He looked Arin up and down before his eyes stopped at the shoes “I have some clothes that I can give, but I don’t have any spare shoes.” He stuck one foot out and wiggled it, “These are the only pair I have.”

“The clothes will do, thank you.”

While he waited for the potman to come back with the items he requested, Arin decided to try out the ring. He needed to see if the item would work as intended and to make alterations if necessary. More importantly, he needed the ring to recognize and memorize Rynn to prevent it from responding to her in the future.

When Arin placed the ring on, he immediately felt it resonating with something ---the blood that flowed within Rynn--- nearby. Though it didn’t physically emit a sound or move, the ring “sang” directly into the wearer’s mind. It was a sound that would always be “heard” even in the loudest of places but can never be heard by others besides the ring-wearer.

The song grew in intensity as Arin got closer to where Rynn was. When he reached the door to her room, it was impossible to ignore. It was even difficult to concentrate on what he was doing. Something to adjust, Arin vaguely thought. He remembered knocking on the door as the
world

started

to---

Trwil. Sipn aornud. Lkie a brllooam dance. The wrold daecns to the music. Nhtoing sayts sltil long enoguh for him to get his biaengrs. He tkihns he hreas Rynn, but the snog it stuhs it out. It stuhs amolst envyerhtig out. It gets worse. She’s cnmiog. She oneps the door and the olny thing he is able to do is garb on to her for daer lfie. The song is so luod now, he flees lkie his head is auobt to eloxdpe. It geivs him no time to reregt. It gives him no tmie to think. It gvies him no tmie to do ahinntyg. He just exsits. The snog eitxss. It just sings, sngis luod and porud. Of teihr boold, a glrouios hrsioty pseasd dwon form gienoaertn to gotenaerin. It ddeanms aeottntin, it dnaemds paisre and more. Mroe. Why won’t you lstien Arin? Tiher one and olny aeidncue. Ltsein. Look. It’s rhgit here. The key. Look at it. Look at her. She lokos at you. She’s lonoikg at you. You see her. Arin sees Rnyn.

As the song started to subside, Arin’s brain regained functionality. He noticed that he was staring at Rynn’s face and grabbing her arm with an iron grip. The ring touched her skin, memorizing her. He just needed to stay like this until the ring had nothing else to sing about. He also became keenly aware that he felt more than a little queasy.

He closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. With each breath he loosened his grip. As soon as the song was completely silenced, Arin pulled his hand away as fast as he could, almost as if Rynn was made of fire.

“Many apologies,” Arin rubbed his forehead to alleviate the headache that was forming. He stood like that for a while before finally speaking, “I wanted to report to you my findings. Though… now that I think about it, maybe I should have waited until breakfast when everyone is around to hear it. ” He sighed and straightened himself, “Well, I might as well tell you now seeing that I have your attention and I do not want to make this a wasted trip.”

Arin took a step away from Rynn, feeling that he was still too close for either of their comfort, “After analyzing what samples I could obtain in the allotted time, I came to the conclusion that magic was not used to break into the vaults. If some form of magic was used, it was the ones already in place.”

He waited for the words, and the implications that came with it, to sink in. “I understand you want to believe your family and those who work in the palace took no part in the theft in any capacity… but unless the spells on the vault were public knowledge, we can narrow our suspects down from the entire population to those who are, or were at one time, close to the crown, whether by blood or not. At the very least, someone who has intimate knowledge of the castle’s architect was involved.” The name Callin crossed his mind. “I am willing to change my mind once we find evidence that proves otherwise, but with what we have, this is currently my strongest hypothesis.”

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

It took a little while for Arin to realize that Elra had no intention of explaining the situation herself. Arin let out a sigh before kneeling to pick up the lock pick. “I arrived after the ruckus so you will have to ask Ms. Silverfang for the details yourself,” He made a hand gesture towards the wolf and briefly glanced at Elra when he mentioned her. Only then he noticed the cut that he could only assume was made by the dead man. “However, if I were to surmise, Ms. Silverfang thought this man was intending to break into one of our companion’s rooms,” he showed Ernestus the pick lock and tossed it to him, “so she took it upon herself to attack the man.” Arin looked back at Elra to check the wound more closely, careful not to touch her now that he knew the wolf was a person. “Though we will not know what his intention was now that he is dead.” His tone was that of a mother scolding her misbehaving child, “I doubt he had anything to do with the thefts at the castle, but if he did, we just lost a source of information.”

Arin stood up, “Now then, if one of you could report this to the innkeeper before she finds out the hard way, it would be much appreciated. I must return to my work.” The elf turned on his heel, then paused. “As for the knife wound, Ms. Silverfang, it is minor so there is nothing to be worried about… but if you cannot heal it yourself or no one can assist you with healing magic, you are welcome to use one of my healing potions or poultices.” He bowed his head slightly at the two, “Good night.”

Arin returned to the kitchen to prepare some extra healing items. It was extra work that he didn’t think he’d be doing that evening ---or early morning, he lost track of time---, but if tonight was any indication, he had a feeling that this party was going to need a lot more than he premade. He was also going to have to acquire some more ingredients in the morning.

There is no rest for the wicked.

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

Arin was cleaning up after himself ---while he waited for the wooden ring he found to completely soak up the crystalized essence--- when he heard sounds of struggle come from somewhere in the inn. It was brief enough that it could have been mistaken for a wild animal ransacking something outside, but Arin couldn’t ignore it. He left the kitchen to investigate the source.

It didn’t take long for him to find a wolf standing over a bloody man. Arin froze at the sight. How did a wild animal get in? He regretted not bringing something to scare the wolf away and considered going back to the kitchen to fetch something, however, based on the amount of blood pouring out from the man’s throat the elf imagined he’d be dead by the time Arin returned… if he hadn’t died already. Arin swallowed and slowly inched his way towards the wolf and man.

Knowing that it wouldn’t be wise to surprise the creature, Arin softly greeted the wolf “Good evening.” He wasn’t sure if he startled the wolf, but as soon as he spoke, he saw the wolf back away. The elf continued to cautiously advance towards the bleeding man, making a conscious effort to stay close to the wall, leaving plenty of space on the other side of the hallway so that the wolf could run away whenever it wanted to.

Still keeping an eye on the wolf from the corner of his eye, Arin crouched down beside the man. He held one hand over the wound and took a pulse. The body still felt warm, but the man was dead. Arin reflexively clicked his tongue. Although he was no stranger to death, it was never a pleasant feeling to witness it. Even if it was just part of life.

Out of habit, Arin was about to offer a prayer to the recently departed but stopped himself. No divine being would ever hear his kind’s prayers. As much as his parents wanted to believe otherwise. Instead, he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and covered the man’s face.

He looked up and was surprised to see that the wolf decided to stay where it was. Softly, Arin asked the wolf, “How did you get in here? Are you lost?” He stared at the wolf, something about it suggested high intelligence. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what made him think that, though. Maybe it was the same feeling he got when he looked into his brother’s eyes. A warm smile spread across his face. “I suggest you leave this place promptly. You will be skinned alive if the villagers catch you. People usually do not take kindly to animals killing people.” Arin made hand motions to shoo the wolf away. With each failed attempt, the elf got closer to the wolf, until finally, he was close enough to touch it. Arin sighed and raised his hands close to the wolf’s nose, allowing it to sniff him. “I was not joking about being skinned alive, you know?” The docility of the wolf gave the impression that it was domesticated, a companion to a ranger of sorts. In which case, he could only assume that the wolf attacked the dead man because he posed a threat to it or its master.

Although a part of him told him it was a bad idea, Arin was curious if he could pet the wolf. It was not every day that one encountered a docile wolf. He tried to think it over, but the wolf's fur was too tempting to resist. Using his clean hand, Arin petted the wolf. As he did, his fingers brushed against what felt like a collar. He looked to the side to get a better look at it and instantly recognized it as a slave collar. He pulled away from the wolf, suddenly getting a bad feeling. The feeling got worse when he noticed the door across the hallway was ajar.

Arin stood up and peaked in after knocking on the door. A quick survey of the room told him it was Elra’s. Elra, the elf that had the same collar as the wolf he just petted. Arin felt his cheeks flush. He tried to hide it as he turned around to face the wolf. For a few awkward moments, the elf opened and closed his mouth, though not a word came out. Finally, he relented, cleared his throat and bowed, “Forgive me Ms. Silverfang, that was entirely inappropriate of me. I did not realize it was you.”

He looked at Elra, then at the body, “What happened here?”

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

The travel to Timberholde was surprisingly uneventful. Whether it was thanks to the rain that was so cold it could suck the enthusiasm out of any would-be attackers, Vuthaternock’s ever-elusive wyvern ally, or plain luck, Arin didn’t know. He was just thankful that the group’s time in the rain was kept to a minimum.

After drying himself off at the inn, Arin spent some time warming his body with a hot cup of tea, cherishing the heat provided by the fire in the fireplace. As much as he wanted to stay there until bedtime, he knew that that was not possible. In fact, it was unlikely he was going to sleep tonight. Not with the amount of work he had to do.

With the permission of the innkeeper, Arin borrowed a corner of the kitchen, including the kitchen appliances, transforming it into a makeshift laboratory. For the next several hours, Arin remained in the kitchen, analyzing the samples he gathered during his brief time at the castle’s vaults.

The process itself was simple enough but was tedious even at the best of times. First, he removed all contaminants from each sample. Once finished, the sample’s magical energy was condensed and crystallized. Arin used the crystallized magic to study the spells in further detail. Based on their characteristics, he cross-checked the notes he took of the vault and the list of authorized spells he was given to find whether or not there was an outlier.

There was none.

Arin rubbed his eyes. No unauthorized magic was used in the theft, at least not the ones involving the vaults. This strengthened the hypothesis that the thief knew about the authorized magic and used it to gain entry. Though, there was still the possibility that the thief waltzed in from a secret passage that not even its current residents knew about, making the royal vault less of a vault and more of a glorified treasury with an open backdoor. Either way, the thief had knowledge that only a few knew about.

"Bodies? No. Missing family . . .? Well, he's not a second cousin, but he has been gone for quite some time." She rolls her head. "Callin always was a studious one. He much prefers the pursuit of knowledge to running a kingdom." Rynn snorts and toys with the end of her braid. "Not that I blame him. Why waste his time in such a dirty, decrepit place when he could see the world?" She shrugged. "But I couldn't imagine leaving father and mother. They're much too old to have another heir."

@pinkkoala321

Arin’s fingers moved away from his eyes as he looked down at a particular crystallized sample. It was the sample he obtained from the “keyhole” of the vault, one of the last samples he got during the vault examination. The guards didn’t question him when he collected it because the elf managed to annoy them enough by that point that they didn’t think to stop him from collecting essentially what was the key to the vault. Arin had no intention of using it to gain access to the vaults unsupervised and only took it to see if unauthorized magic tampered with the mechanism of the vault, though that turned out not to be the case.

If the thief did use authorized magic to access the vault, that meant they had the blood to do so, whether it was from their own veins or “borrowed” from someone else.

Arin picked up the sample, fidgeting with it until an idea popped into his head. His original plan to track down the one who used unauthorized magic to break into the vaults might have been thrown out the window, but that did not mean he couldn’t use some variation of it. All he had to do was imbue the concentrated magical essence into an item that he could alter to serve as a detector. Arin could make it so that the item would respond to the blood of individuals who recently opened the vault door.

He would need to eliminate Rynn’s essence from the item to prevent it from responding to her continuously, but if this went as planned, the next time the item responds it should be to the owner of the blood or a container filled with the blood used to open the vault. The plan wouldn't have worked effectively if the group stayed at the castle, but out here ---far from the cluster of people who Arin knew can open the door--- if there was someone who can open the door legitimately, the item would tell him. If not, the blood used to open the vault can be narrowed down to the residents of the castle, Rynn included. Assuming that the thief still remains in Ovyadell or the Underground... Or if there is enough blood left for the item to respond to, but I suppose it is worth a try.

Arin started to rummage through his belongings to find a suitable item.

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

Arin had mixed feelings about how well the group conducted their investigation of the vault. Some did help, albeit in varying degrees. Callista provided insight from a non-magic user perspective. Even Vuthaternock came up with a few ideas, some rooted more in the realm of possibilities than others. Both, however, lacked evidence and time needed to gather said evidence from the vault or the castle.

Elra’s initial input was helpful, but then she thought now would be a good time to revert to her slave days, fetching her master ---nay, employer’s daughter--- and her guests' things that Rynn undoubtedly already prepared beforehand unless the trip to Timberholde was decided at the spur of the moment. One could chalk it up as her being considerate, but Arin couldn't entirely. Who asked her to do it? Arin certainly didn’t. It wasn’t her job, far from it in fact, or was the king hiring new servants simultaneously with hiring people to find the Dark Dagger? No, she made the decision herself, before anyone asked her to do it. Just like a well-trained slave who learned the hard way what happened when she wasn’t “considerate” enough.

Arin was most disappointed in Ernestus. He apparently spent one full hour talking to one of his guards and not once did he ask about the thefts. It was a lost opportunity for them to get information that perhaps the guards were hesitant to reveal to their superiors but were more open to tell an old friend. He might have discovered that the guards fell asleep or were drunk while on duty or that they left their posts the moment of the theft for one reason or another. The fact of the matter was that if the thief did use the front door to enter the vault, then they needed to pass the guards. What were they doing when that happened? If magic was used ---and Arin would find out soon enough--- then he’d be more forgiving depending on the type of spell, but if magic wasn’t used then that would mean they were present to see the vaults open and, or, they weren’t present at all. Both were equally bad in their own ways.

The elf didn’t expect impeccable results, especially with the time given, but he couldn’t help feeling dissatisfied. He’d only have to hope that the group would shine out in the field. Most of them did look like they’ve seen their fair share of battle. Perhaps, with this party’s composition, it would be more effective to beat up every suspect ---royalty or not--- they come across to get to the dagger and its thief. Arin let out a deep and long sigh at the thought.

He glanced at the princess, recalling her earlier response to Vuthaternock’s comment about Rynn accompanying them and how her parents would not approve of it.

He tilts his head. "Why do you keep saying "we"? You assume that you're coming? I highly doubt your parents would approve. As their only heir, if you were to die, the royal family would die out completely. If you come with, we cannot guarantee your safety. We will likely have to undergo many obstacles in out search for the dagger, and if you are hurt or killed under our watch, it is us, the people, who will suffer the most." He shakes his head. "It is not in your best interest to come with us. I might be able to get you a wyvern bodyguard if you wish."

@Shadow Dragon

"Regardless," Rynn said, turning her nose up at the dragonborn, "someone managed to get into our vaults without doing any of that. And they got through all the spells guarding the inside of the vault as well. There is not a single item untouched by a ward in that vault. Certainly not the Dark Dagger, but someone found a way to take it without leaving a trace."

She snapped her fingers. The guards moved to attention. "As I said before, we ride for Timberholde."

@pinkkoala321

She responded, by not addressing it at all. Arin rubbed the bridge of his nose. For a moment, the elf considered going to the king for confirmation, then dropped the idea. Babysitting the princess was not part of the deal, as such, it was not Arin’s problem. The contract specifically demanded that he would investigate the theft, especially that of the dagger. He would not be bridging the contract by not taking care of Rynn or by not reporting her to the king. If the king was not going to hold his end of the deal because something happened to Rynn, it was King Silas who would suffer the consequence. The contract would make sure of that.

Dark Dagger

Gotcha, thanks!

Dark Dagger

@pinkkoala321 So, just to clarify, Arin would find absolutely no traces of “unauthorized” magic?

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

Arin was slightly taken aback when Rynn relented. She struck him as an individual who was headstrong, unabashedly obstinate even: nothing, absolutely nothing, would get in her way once she made a choice. He had just resigned himself to being kicked out of the castle and be on their way to Timberholde. Yet, here they were, about to head to the vaults.

He didn’t know what he said differently that convinced her now that didn’t convince her before. Maybe Arin pestered her enough that Rynn was allowing the investigation of the vaults only to shut him up. Wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Besides, it wasn’t as if his request was illogical considering the circumstance. Had they been someone who Rynn trusted with her life, she would have let them in the vaults without a doubt.

While he would have preferred having a whole day to examine the vaults, Arin knew he’d be pushing his luck. So, he took what he could get.

On their way to the vaults, the group took a detour to retrieve his belongings. The elf brought with him a large leather satchel and an even larger wooden chest with makeshift wheels and a long sturdy handle attached to it. Based on the contents that protruded out of the satchel, anyone could guess that the elf’s luggage comprised primarily of alchemical ingredients and tools and little of his personal belongings.

As the group approached, what seemed to be, a dead-end, Arin could feel his skin tingle from the arcane energy that was either being emitted from the vault itself and, or was the magic seeping out from within. The elf checked his body to see if the energy affected him but was relieved to see that it didn’t.

As Rynn cut herself with a blade to reveal the hidden vault, Arin made a mental note that a relatively small amount of blood, from individuals who were permitted access to the vaults ---probably most, if not all, members of the royal family, but also potentially a select few non-royals such as the mages who cast the spells and trusted loyalist---, was required. "Impressed?" Rynn asked. Arin smiled at her briefly as an answer and dropped it once she looked away. Though impressive, this made it even more likely that the theft, at least of the objects locked in the vaults, was an inside job.

“Your Grace, has there been any bodies found or any of your family missing, like a second cousin?” Elra asked. She makes an excellent point. He’d have to look into it, but there was nothing to suggest that the blood had to come from the living.

While he and the others waited for the guards to return with a key and additional guards to watch the group, Arin opened his chest and started to prepare. He asked the other volunteers ---those who remained--- what their expertise was concerning investigations and suggested that they should split the work to collect as much information as they can in the one hour they were given. He told the group that he was going to focus on whether or not magic was used to break into the vaults.

When the extra guards arrived, Arin gave his two guards things to hold. One was given a tray with sample tubes, tweezers, cotton, a small container of distilled water, an inkwell filled with ink, and a quill pen; one was given a tube rack, an unusual device, and a thin, rigid board with papers stacked on it. The guards were confused at first but were shocked, even mildly insulted, when they realized they were being used as a manservant. “Well, if you are going to hover over me and watch my every move like a love-struck maiden, you might as well be of some use,” Arin took the board with papers on it and dipped the quill into the ink. “Do you two have names?” The guards remained silent, though one was obviously glaring at Arin. “No? Then I shall name you Bob One and Ben Two.” The elf heard Ben Two mumble something about his name being Wyll and snapped, “Well it is too late for that, Ben Two. You should have introduced yourself like civil people when I asked. Now you have to live with your decision.”

Ignoring Ben Two’s grumbling, Arin continued. “As you may already know by now, we are conducting an investigation of the vault to determine how a thief would be able to steal the Dark Dagger unnoticed. Since our time is limited, I will be primarily focusing on collecting samples to analyze later and taking notes to organize my thoughts. I will tell you every detail of the process and why it is being done so that you two do not go into a frenzy every time I do something that you think is suspicious. I will explain in such detail and repeat the explanation so many times that by tomorrow, you two will be experts yourselves.”

True to his word, Arin explained every little thing he did in agonizing detail and repeated the explanation again when he did the same thing once more. This ranged from relevant things such as the sample gathering methods to irrelevant and mundane actions such as scratching his nose and sneezing. Ten minutes into the vault examination, Bob One and Ben Two begged for Arin to stop explaining absolutely everything he was doing. At the fifteen-minute mark, they asked him to only explain the new things he was doing. By thirty minutes, they just wanted him to work in silence.

During his time in and around the vault, Arin took meticulous notes about the vault and the objects inside. The notes included sketches, measurements, and personal comments. He made sure he collected all the samples that he could possibly collect. There was so much more he wanted to do, but there was precious little time left and Arin knew he needed to talk to the people who knew what authorized spells were used inside and on the vault, maybe throughout the castle itself.

The plan was to compare the magic samples with the list of authorized spells to see if there were any outliers. Ideally, the unauthorized spell would be that of the thief. Arin would then use the essence to track the thief or the magical item that the thief used, which hopefully was still in the thief’s possession. If there were no unauthorized spells, then it was highly likely that no magic was used for the theft or the thief ---or their accomplice--- used authorized magic to cover their tracks. It would also strengthen the theory that someone close to Rynn was involved in the theft. It was that or there would have to be an outsider who had a deep knowledge of Eastormel Castle, but who would have that kind of knowledge? The elves of old? Perhaps there was a long-lost map floating around that revealed all the secret passages. The possibilities were endless, but Arin needed to focus on one thing at a time.

Arin reluctantly left the vault, with his two guards right behind him, to find the person he needed to speak to. After he verified the spells, he came back to the group. He carefully returned all his tools in their designated places in the chest. He took all his notes, reviewed them one last time before blowing on them. Slowly, the letters started to fade, becoming invisible to the naked eye. He then carefully tied the papers with rope and put it in the chest like the rest of the items. Arin whispered a spell after locking the chest and stood up.

Dark Dagger

That someone:


@pinkkoala321Oh yeah, since we're in the vaults, is there anything in particular the gang can/will find?

I'm planning for Arin to check if any magic (especially the thief's) is present and analyze what type of magic they are. Directly ask questions to the guards who were guarding the vaults the night the dagger was stolen if the others don't ask first.

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

Arin’s patience was wearing thinner by the second. Waste of time? The only person wasting his time was the princess. Who was she to tell him how to do his job? No proper investigation has ever been done, and never will be done, by not looking. Why was he even summoned here in the first place if not to investigate?

Slowly, but surely, the letter in his pocket became something unpleasant and hard to ignore. Reminding him of what happened to bad little Astastels who failed to uphold a deal made in the House’s name. The thought sent shivers down the elf’s back.

You just had to make life harder for me, did you? Reluctantly, but no less annoyed, Arin focused on gathering arcane energy to one focal point. When just the right amount accumulated, he cast two spells in quick succession.

Sensing something amiss, the guards rushed forward to defend their princess, ready to cut down the foolish elf who dared to ambush a member of the royal blood. Arin, unfazed, raised his hands in the air and waited for them to settle down. They anticipated for an attack that never came. When nothing happened a few more seconds later, the soldiers relaxed a bit.

“V pnfg n fcryy gung rapelcgf jung jr fnl. Ab bar urer rkprcg sbe lbh naq V pna haqrefgnaq jung jr ner fnlvat. V oryvrir guvf jvyy znxr vg rnfvre sbe lbh gb nafjre… jung V cerfhzr gb or qvssvphyg dhrfgvbaf,” Arin bowed dramatically and added, “Ynql.” The guards looked at each other in confusion, before aiming their confused expression at their mistress.

The elf straightened up and began to peruse the study. Examining whatever he got his hands on, squeezing past others when he needed to, in order to find the thing that he requested earlier from the princess. Seeing that she never said no ---she in fact, never spoke about it---, Arin decided that it was a yes. As he did, he spoke in an even tone.

“Gb ortva, V zhfg cbvag bhg gung V unir orra fhzzbarq urer gb qb n irel fcrpvsvp wbo. N wbo juvpu lbh ner npgviryl trggvat va gur jnl bs zr qbvat. Gb vairfgvtngr vf gb pneel bhg n flfgrzngvp be sbezny vadhvel gb qvfpbire naq rknzvar gur snpgf pbapreavat jungrire gur fhowrpg vf, va guvf pnfr, n frevrf bs gursgf. Guvf vf qbar gb rfgnoyvfu gur gehgu. Ceriragvat hf gb vafcrpg gur fprar bs gur pevzr, cevaprff, vf gur rdhvinyrag bs gelvat gb qrgrezvar gur pnhfr bs qrngu bs fbzrbar jvgubhg gurve obql; tb ubefr evqvat jvgubhg gur ubefr; n grn cnegl jvgubhg grn. Be jungrire nanybtl lbh cersre. Gur cbvag vf: lbh ner ceriragvat hf sebz qbvat n gubebhtu vairfgvtngvba. Lbh... qb haqrefgnaq ubj fgenatr lbhe vafvfgrapr gung jr qb abg qb bhe wbo pbzrf bss nf, lrf? Znxrf lbh ybbx qhovbhf.” Arin closed the book he was skimming through and slid it between his underarm.

“Qb lbh xabj jung unccraf gb pbzzbaref jub qb abg yvir hc gb n fbirervta’f rkcrpgngvbaf, cevaprff? Jung lbh znl trg n fync ba gur jevfg sbe, pbzzbaref ner rkrphgrq sbe. Vg vf abg haurneq bs va bgure xvatqbzf naq gurer vf abguvat lbh pna fnl gung jvyy pbaivapr zr gung lbhe snzvyl qb abg unir gur fnzr grzcrenzrag. Fb vs lbh ner gelvat gb znxr hf gnxr cneg va fbzr xvaq bs rynobengr ehanjnl, cyrnfr, qb vg ba lbhe bja gvzr.” Arin turned to Rynn, giving his undivided attention. “Vs lbh ner frevbhf nobhg jung lbh fnvq, ubjrire, gura cyrnfr fgbc jnfgvat bhe gvzr naq tvir zr fgenvtug nafjref gb zl dhrfgvbaf. V arrq snpgf.”

The elf stared straight into Rynn’s eyes, “Jul qb lbh abg jnag hf gb vairfgvtngr gur inhyg?.”
"Vs lbh zhfg xabj, jr qba'g shyyl gehfg lbh nyy. Ng yrnfg, abg rabhtu gb yrg lbh nebhaq gur inhygf."
“Nf tbbq nf nal ernfba, V fhccbfr.”

The guards expressed shock when they heard the princess speak. It didn't take them long to figure out what or who caused it. Their bodies tensed once again, ready to attack as soon as their mistress would allow it. Fortunately for the elf, the Lady didn't.

“Qvq lbh yvr gb hf ng nal cbvag?”
"V unir abg yvrq gb lbh, ohg V frr ab arrq va nafjrevat evqvphybhf dhrfgvbaf."
“Yrg zr fnl vg vf sbe gur fnzr ernfba lbh qb abg jnag hf gb tb vagb gur inhygf, ohg V qvterff. Ner lbh vaibyirq va gur gursg bs gur qnttre?”
"Ab. Lbh jbhyqa'g or urer vs V unq orra."
“Jbhyq V abg? Orvat cneg bs n eblny snzvyl jbhyq znxr vg irel rnfl gb uvqr va gur bcra. Abar bs lbhe fhowrpgf jbhyq qner, ng yrnfg bcrayl, fhfcrpg gurve cevaprff.”

For the first time since he cast the spells, the elf's voice took a softer tone, “Vf lbhe yvsr va qnatre?”

"V unir fcrag zl yvsr genvavat, orpbzvat gur orfg jneevbe V pna or. V yvxr gb guvax gung vs zl yvsr jrer va qnatre, V jbhyq or noyr gb unaqyr vg zlfrys."

Arin seemed to contemplate something before pulling out the letter that was safely tucked away in his pocket. There was nothing extraordinary about the paper minus the insignia of two intertwined wyverns on it, “Qb lbh xabj, rknpgyl, jub erdhrfgrq nffvfgnapr sebz Ubhfr Nfgnfgry? Jub neenatrq n qrny jvgu... ‘hf’?”

"Ab, V qba'g. V jbhyq nffhzr zl sngure, vs abg ol uvf bja unaq."

Satisfied with the answers, Arin finally took his gaze off of Rynn and returned the letter into his pocket, “Gunax lbh sbe lbhe ubarfgl, Ynql Elaa.” He bowed slightly before resuming what he was previously doing, “V qb erfcrpg lbhe pnhgvbhfarff ba gur znggre, ohg ‘gehfg’ vf n gjb-jnl fgerrg, Ynql Elaa. Abar bs hf urer gehfg lbh rvgure. Lbhe eblny gvgyr nybar pnaabg jva bhe gehfg. Guvf vf, ng gur raq bs gur qnl, n ohfvarff. N zbqvphz bs gehfg zhfg or tvira sbe rirelbar gb cresbez gurve tvira qhgl. N fbpvrgl whfg jbhyq abg shapgvba cebcreyl vs rirelbar vf cnenabvq. Jung vs gur onxre cbvfbarq gurve ybnirf bs oernq? Jung vs gur crbcyr jub znqr gur ebnqf znqr fher vg yrq gb bhe qrnguf? Rgprgren, rgprgren. Vg vf arire-raqvat naq hygvzngryl n cbvagyrff raqrnibe. Ynql Elaa, V nz abg gryyvat lbh gb gehfg hf jubyrurnegrqyl, gung vf hajvfr rira nzbat sevraqf, ohg nyybj zr gb qb jung V jnf uverq gb qb. Gb vairfgvtngr gur gursgf.” Arin pointed at his pocket without looking away from the book in his other hand, “Guvf yrggre vf zber ovaqvat guna lbh pna rire vzntvar.”

Arin added another book between his underarm, “Qhr gb gur angher bs guvf pbagenpg, V jvyy raq hc ragrevat gur inhygf ertneqyrff bs ubj zhpu lbh gehfg zr. Zvaq lbh, guvf vf abg n guerng, vg vf cneg bs gur Ubhfrf’ erjneq sbe urycvat: gb fghql gur zntvpny vgrzf lbhe snzvyl cbffrffrf naq obeebj vg, ohl vg vs jr zhfg, qrcraqvat ba vgf zntvpny cebcregvrf. V crefbanyyl jnagrq gb rknzvar gur inhygf gb frr vs zntvp jnf rira hfrq gb oernx vagb gurz. Vs gur inhygf qb fgber n terng ahzore bs zntvpny vgrzf, V pna bayl nffhzr gung gur inhygf ner rdhnyyl zntvpny be nagv-zntvpny. Gung vf nyy vtabevat gur cbffvovyvgl gung gurer ner frperg cnffntrf gung bayl n unaqshy bs crbcyr fubhyq xabj nobhg. Gb or noyr gb pvephzirag nyy gung erdhverf fcrpvsvp xabjyrqtr naq erfbheprf. Guvatf gung V jvyy abg or noyr gb svaq gur fcrpvsvpf bs orpnhfr V pnaabg rknzvar gur inhygf.”

Arin walked back to his original position, “Fb jura lbhe sngure nfxf zr ubj gur guvrs tbg va, naq jr svaq bhg abguvat va gur Haqretebhaq, V nz cbvagvat zl svatre ng lbh.” He shrugged, “Ubcrshyyl orsber gung unccraf lbh jvyy erpbafvqre naq nyybj zr gb rknzvar gur inhygf… ohg ol gura V srne gurer jvyy or yvggyr gb ab genprf bs gur crecrgengbe’f zntvp yrsg gb qrgrpg. Whfg xrrc gung va zvaq.”

Arin snapped his fingers, dispelling whatever it was that he cast. “Well then, I suppose I should go get my bags. Long way ahead and all that.” He then took the two history books between his underarm and showed the cover to the princess and her guards. “I am also going to borrow these.”