The cobblestone and dirt streets of Ironkeep were nothing more than mud and river as the rain continued to pour. Three days it had been this way, and people were beginning to grow restless. Nothing unusual for the capital of Ovyadell. What was unusual were the soaked announcements that hung from every open surface, promising gold, power, or influence to any able, willing-bodied people who could find the King's dagger.

And so, people came. They flocked to Eastormel Castle and filed into the grand throne room, eager to earn some reward. Men and women, adventurers and common folk alike, waited with bated breath as the doors opened and the royal family took their places on the dais. The King first, then the Queen and Princess on either side of him.

The King held up his hands. A hush fell over the room. "I would like to thank you all for coming today." His eyes roamed over the gathered crowd. "Something very precious to my family, to the kingdom has been taken. My own men have failed to catch the culprit, or to return what was lost. So I now turn to you, my people."

"I will not lie to you. It may be dangerous. But such a worthwhile reward could not be earned without a little danger." A few of those gathered grew nervous. "You will have to travel to the Underground. I believe it is there you will find the dagger." Some looked to the doors, as if they only just realized how frightening the quest would truly be. "If you leave now, I will not hold it against you. This job is not for the faint of heart." Most began to file out, leaving the quest and the reward behind.

The King looked over the few who remained. "Those who still wish to accept the job, step forward and say your name."

Vuthaternock slogs his way through the pouring rain, his inner fire keeping him warm, but he still get soaked. Growling in displeasure, and walking through the darkening cobble road, he heads for the palace. Walking into the throne room, his towering height and massive build allows him to see over the heads of everyone else. He pulls back his hood, showing his draconic face, fangs bared in a savage grin. What's the reward, I wonder? Some kind of magic artifact perhaps?

He watches the king, his wife, and their daughter walk into the room, and his gaze stays fixed on the beautiful princess. She's amazing.... I wonder if the king will offer her hand in marriage to the one who finds that dagger.....? He licks his lips in anticipation of the reward to be announced.

If the royal guard failed to catch them, the thief must be skilled indeed. He grins when the king askes for the names of those who wish to search for the dagger. He walks up to the front, and bows deeply to the king. "My king, I am Vuthaternock, but you may call me Blackscale."

His tongue flickers out, like a snake seeking prey, and his dark crimson eyes lock on the kings.

Clinging to his cloak, trying to keep himself as dry as possible under it, Ernestus wandered down the road. He saw the crowd growing at the castle, and proceeded to follow them, presuming it would be about the alledged robbery.

After entering the throne room, Ernestus kept close to the back of the group. He pulled down his hood now he was out of the rain, and waited patiently to see what was going to happen.

After finally resting for a couple of minutes he realised how hungry he was, and felt the beast within stir slightly. He took in a deep breath, and tried to relax himself. He looked up to see the royal family appear before the crowd.

After the king said his piece amd the crowd thinned out, Ernestus walked forward to introduce himself, with a bow "I am Ernestus Greye your liege."
, he straighened himself, "I am not interested in the reward, but I do offer help when its needed." he says with hand over heart, showing respect.

---

From a corner in the back Elra remained hidden in her robes. The robe was thick wool, black with ornate symbols embroidered in black and grey thread. She had embroidered many of the magical marks herself. The robe was not waterproof and wet from the rain and her feet were wet. The robe was her masters, now hers. The staff as well, it still had the dark feeling of her master's dark magic. It made her neck hurt with the collar when it got near it. Yet, she leaned it against her shoulder when she stepped forward.

As people the left, she felt less of a hunted animal and she got braver. Being underground did not make her afraid, her cousin wolves make dens underground. She stepped forward and lowered her cowl. "Elra Silverfang, my Lord. I would like my freedom and money to have a life," she said. The five braided collar, show her status as property, though the enchantments no longer had the glow it once did.

She did not know what the kingdom felt about slavery, many closed minded people considered her nothing more than animal. That is what her master wanted them to think about her.

She did not bow a knee to the king, but inclined her head slightly. She meant no disrespect but she was an Elf and not a human after all. After being caged, she would not bow to a human she did not know and respect. She did not know this king.

Callista waited as several candidates introduced themselves, taking the measure of each that spoke. She had arrived early, but waited off to the side of the crowd rather than draw attention to herself.

Dragonborn, human, elf... Looks like they're all mages of some kind of another. Must be more to that dagger than I know about, to catch this kind of attention. I was expecting more sellswords, but this lot... They probably have some means of tracking that dagger down. Maybe I should pick one and make an alliance... Nah, I could probably bring them all onto my team! Their skills combined with my own, we could get this wrapped up in no time at all!

She nodded to herself, dropped her hood, and strode toward the front of the crowd with the others, giving a short bow toward the throne.

"Your Majesty, my name is Callista Felmir. I wish to join the hunt for the one foolish enough to steal the property of the Crown for their own. I will not ask for a particular reward; I trust in the justice and generosity of my King."

She glanced between the other candidates and gave a nod to the collared elf.

She looks like she could use an ally. Can't hurt to make a good impression.

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.

“Did these men---… Ralph and Philippe.” Arin folded the letter and placed in back into its envelope.
“Fredrick and Douglas, sir.”
Arin waved his hand dismissively, “It does not matter what their given names are.” Or were. The elf turned his head to look at the emissary. “Did these men introduce themselves as ‘I-do-not-care-what-their-names-are’ von Astastel?”
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, “You would be surprised.” The smirk faded as he sighed. “As ludicrous as this may sound, it is vitally important that I know whether or not these men introduced themselves as…” Arin made a random hand gesture to imply that a name, any name would do, was said in silence, “--- von Astastel.”
“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.”
“They introduced themselves individually.”
“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.

“Many apologies. This whole ordeal is… quite distressing as you can imagine.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Do you have a list of the victims?”
“Yes, they are written here.” The emissary pointed at the paper on the table.
“Which ones have been tricked by ‘Huard’ and ‘Eadgar’ von Astastel?”
Lifting the paper from the table, the emissary pointed at the names which were under the column titled “von Astastel”.
“Perfect. May I?” 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, “The House of Astastel will do our best to compensate these individuals.”
“How generous of you.”
“Not out of the kindness of my heart, I assure you.”
The emissary gave an understanding nod.

Arin turned his head and called out, “Someone? Anyone around? I need some assistance.” 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. “Make sure these people are paid handsomely for their troubles.” He silently took the paper from Arin’s hand. “Oh, and also…” the man leaned down when Arin motioned for him to get closer. The elf whispered, “Find them.”

---

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. He is one of the fortunate ones. At least the symptoms are still manageable.

Arin studied the filthy man who slept across from him in the carriage. “So,” he asked, “which one are you? ‘Huard’ or ‘Eadgar’?” 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”.

“Let me be the first to welcome you into the family, ‘cousin’.”

---

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.

---

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.”
“Who?”
“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, “Do you know how he died?”
“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.”
“I see… Thank you for keeping me informed.”
“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, “I wish you the best of luck.”
“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. “And I am Arin from House Astastel, at your service, your majesty.”

---

Elra watched the others with her wolf eyes and keep her senses up. The wolf in her was right about things more than she wanted to admit. She wanted to sniff them and learn their scents.

She also wished the king would offer them some hospitality. Most of them were in wet cloaks and boots tracking mud and dripping water on the floor. Soon the cold would come, then the sickness if it wasn’t tended to. Surely His Grace understood that.

Elra held up a finger for a moment, then cast a cantrip to control the water, she walked around each of them moving her hand to drive the water to the floor. Then with a move all the water and mud got carried to the door.

After Ernestus introduced himself, he noticed the other individuals in the room that remained after the majority of the crowd departed. And before he noticed the Elf walking to him, he noticed his cloak and gear felt lighter and dryer. He looked up, "Thank you madam." he says giving a slight bow, and lets go of his cloak relaxing himself proper.

He grins, and responds in the deep language of draconic, bowing to the elf. "Vinxa. Coi ui throdenilti kashora." His voice rasps out, more like he's inhaling the words then speaking them. His wings spread for a moment, then fold tight to his back. "Let's get searching then! I'd check the Underground and black market first, if the thief wanted to sell it, or if they have a hideout. The thieves grapevine might have some info we can use."

"Very well." The King looked around at those gathered and swept his arm out toward the far doors. Two guards stepped forward and bowed deeply. "If you will follow them to the next chamber." His eyes landed on the dragonkin. "Only once you have been . . . properly informed can you begin your search."

The guards opened the doors and strode down the hall to another room. This one was smaller, lit only by a few sconces, and littered with books and scrolls. The five volunteers could barely fit without standing shoulder to shoulder, pressed so tightly together that it bordered on maddening.

"The Lady will be shortly," said the first guard. "She'll tell you everything you need to know." They looked to one another and slipped out of the room.

"Don't try anything," said the other. "We'll be right outside these doors."

The doors shut with a soft thud.

---

Elra thought about shifting forms to give them room. She also thought that the floor might drop out from underneath them too. She thought of a hundred bats flying in from the sides. She thought of the hundreds of cruel things her master would have done.

The room was getting warmer with their presence and the smell of old leather, of paper and a bit of decay filled her nose. She could smell the urine of rodents that had passes this way. She smelled the people around her scents.

She started to hum an old elven tune that her mother had hummed when she was distracting her children. Elra hummed much better than she sang and some day she would learn the word to the song, if it had words. Maybe the Bard here, knew of it.

Elra was well trained not to touch things that were not hers, though the scrolls and books were a great temptation. This smelled like a trap for that. If you touched things in here you were most likely not trustable. The crowded of people made the temptation greater as you were pushed against things.

A hand accidentally pressed against her and she gently reached down for it. Holding another’s hand brought comfort and she was nervous enough to seek comfort if it was offered. The wolf in her disliked this and it was ready to scratch at the doors. She needed a hand, this was like cage.

She closed her eyes and breathed slowly hoping the lady would come soon.

Arin watched the brief interactions between his potential companions and, or, rivals from the corner of his eye. It was amazing how one could learn from these moments, no matter how short they were.

Elra Silverfang, the former slave, may not have a master now, but her body language suggested that she was still a caged animal. Whether or not her initiative to help dry the others came from genuine concern, a subtle attempt to make a good impression, or remnants of her former life telling her to serve others was something that Arin was going to have to decide after he got to know her.

Ernestus Greye seemed like decent folk, the type of man who would fit the rugged hero archetype that the commoners loved so much. It was because of that, however, that made Arin think that Ernestus was hiding something dark. Not necessarily sinister, just something darker than… “pure”. The elf’s fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the silver charm hanging from his neck.

On the other hand, Arin immediately could tell Callista Felmir was a rogue, perhaps in every sense of the word. She mannerisms told him that she was confident in conversing with anyone and the way she sized up everyone made him think that they were cut from the same cloth. She was studying them, this situation, all of it. But was she a thief? The thief? Even if she weren’t the thief, Arin wouldn’t be surprised if she did take part in any future thefts in this castle.

Then there was the dragonborn. “<Thank you. It is most appreciated.>” It was clear that he could fluently speak the common tongue, so why did Vuthaternock have to thank someone using a language that not everyone could understand? To show off his draconic heritage? Arin knew dragons were a proud race, but did they need to emphasize it with every breath they took? Gods, even how he said it reeks of pomposity. Just like many in House Astastel. “Let's get searching then! I'd check the Underground and black market first, if the thief wanted to sell it, or if they have a hideout. The thieves grapevine might have some info we can use.”

Arin couldn’t help but sigh deeply. He mentally patted himself on the back for not covering his hand over his face. It wasn’t the suggestion itself that bothered him: in fact, it was evident that the investigation was going to take them to the Underground whether they liked or not, but the elf couldn’t fathom why it never crossed Vuthaternock’s mind that perhaps they should gather more information at the castle ---get details about the case and look at the place the dagger was kept at the very least--- before venturing into the shady part of civilization. Did he even know what the Dark Dagger looked like? What was his plan when they got there anyways? How did he think a community of outlaws ---who could have been present during the King’s announcement a few moments ago--- would respond to outsiders asking around about a theft? Did he hope that his draconic lineage was enough for them to tell him everything? Was he going to bribe them or was he going to beat people until they gave something up? Perhaps he planned to slaughter the denizens to just get everything over and done with. While there was no denying that some of Ovyadell would appreciate that, Arin could only hope that Vuthaternock wasn’t that reckless.

Thankfully King Silas was quick to intervene and instructed the volunteers to follow the guards. The group was escorted to a small room that reminded him of his study back home. As much as he wanted to reach for the books and scrolls, Arin refrained from touching, being extra careful to keep his hands to himself.

“The Lady will be shortly. She'll tell you everything you need to know.”

Arin wondered who this “Lady” could possibly be, but before he could ask, the two guards left the room and shut the door behind them. As he was contemplating who the Lady was he noticed the expression on Elra’s face. It was similar to the one “Huard von Astastel” had the day they cornered him in the inn: scared and haunted. A caged animal indeed…

Arin looked at Callista, half expecting that she was going to make a move. If there was ever a moment to take advantage of someone, make an ally out of them, it was during their moment of weakness… and he wanted to know how similar their cloth was. Or perhaps Ernestus would valiantly swoop in, intentionally or by accident, helping Elra in her time of need. But Arin would be lying if he said he wasn't curious what Vuthaternock would do.

Arin himself made no attempt to console the other elf. He knew he was not the one who could or should do that. He had hands that even his own father couldn't bear to hold.

Ernestus kept quiet as he watched as everything came about. He entered the room with the others thinking to himself, I have no idea what to expect on this errand, but with such a group as ours, this will likely be quite interesting.

After the first minute had passed as they were left alone in the room, Ernestus looked around, "I must say, that are we are quite the eccentric group." he said with a friendly smile. He caught a glimpse of Elra showing discomfort, "Are you ok miss? Its a slight claustrophobic with all of us in here I must agree. But I assume we're in here due to the sensitive details behind this incident."
He gestures towards the door, "I'm sure they would be fine with you stepping out for a couple of minutes if its too unconfortable." he says with concern.

Callista remained silent as the king dismissed them, continuing to observe her fellow bounty hunters.

Let's see then... Start with the dragonborn, Vul... Blackscale. Definitely what I picture when someone says "adventurer." And already taking the lead, or trying to. That's one I can depend on to draw attention, for better or worse. The wizard, Ernestus... It'll take me a bit to get a read on him. Can't assume a wizard is anything like what they seem.

As they packed into the room, Callista found herself next to Elra, the next target of her consideration.

Not a bad place to be. This one seems... A bit out of her element. And using her power just to make everyone more comfortable... She's kind. Even though she hasn't been treated kindly, if that collar is what I think it is...

Callista's thoughts were interrupted by Elra's hand clasping hers.

Oh.

She looked up at the elven lady and saw in her eyes just how nervous she was. Reaching out for anyone.

Here goes nothing, then. She gently squeezed the delicate hand in hers and gave Elra a relaxed grin.

"Royalty, eh? Guess they're testing us a bit before we get going on their errand. I wouldn't step out if I were you, they might take it as backing down. Maybe we get to know each other a bit, since we're packed in?"

She glanced at the others, momentarily locking eyes with Arin. Huh. He's sizing me up just like I was him. Canny one, this. "So what made you all want to go after this knife? Besides the reward, of course."

Vuthaternock whispers to himself in draconic, reciting a curse cast on him long ago. "Marfedelom vur ruin nishka qe dout wiot, dronilnr dout hearts vur sprits ousch. Ergriff ini wer morne di ibafarshan, shilta dout sepa qe douta tenamalo." His eyes flash red for a second, and he shudders, then composes himself. He rests his hand on a hilt hidden by his wings, watching everything with red, slitted eyes. These warriors are dangerous. Best to watch my step. Until the time is right. He licks his lips, and waits for the mysterious 'Lady'.

The doors open, filling the room once again with light, and in walks Rynn, her flowing gown replaced with riding leathers. Unwilling to leave her side, the guards crowd on either side of the entryway. "Well, well," she purrs, her fingers pulling at her braid. "It would seem my father's offer was enough to bring people in. I had my doubts."

Her eyes roam over the group, weighing. "I've spent my life behind these walls. There's not a secret in this castle I don't know about. If there is . . . Well, it's well hidden." She plucks an invisible bit of lint from her sleeve. "Which is why I'm surprised that anyone was able to steal from this place, let alone from the vaults."

"I figured now would be the time for questions. I'd rather not waste a moment going over useless information, so tell me what you'd like to know."

Ernestus straightened himself and bowed before the princess as she entered the room.
After the princess said her piece, "What does the dagger look like exactly?, and do you happen to have any suspects?" he asked folding his arms.
"Do you think it could of been anyone who happens to be from the castle?" he asks soon after.

Callista barely noticed the Princess' entry, but managed to pull her attention away from Elra as the woman spoke. She listened to Ernestus' question and added her own thoughts.

"I'm more interested in how they pulled it off. They can't have been obvious enough to seem suspicious to the castle staff, or they'd have been caught, but if we can figure out their methods... That might be the kind of clue we can use. In fact, do you think we could take a look around after this?"

“<Death and ruin shall be your foe, bring your hearts and sprits low. Only by the heat of flame, can your soul be yours again.>” Elven ears twitched at the phrase, catching Arin’s attention. He glanced at the dragonborn right as he licked his lips. Ah yes, because nothing more says “I am not planning anything nefarious in anyway Bwahaha” than inciting a curse menacingly and then licking your lips as if they were chapped. Could he not be so blatantly obvious about it? … The way he acts makes me think he is an actor playing the part of a classic villain or he is an angsty adolescent in his brooding phase. Arin paused mid-thought, realizing that he didn’t know how old Vuthaternock was. It had always been difficult to tell with dragonkin.

Arin got his derailed thoughts back on track: Vuthaternock’s words. Since Arin couldn’t detect magic being actively used, he was fairly certain that the dragonborn didn’t cast anything. That would mean that Vuthaternock said the words to himself or was reciting what was said to him as a reminder.

Assuming this is true… Arin rubbed his chin. If he were to take the words at face value, Vuthaternock’s soul was metaphorically or literally not in his possession at the current moment. If the curse was metaphorical, then it was something Vuthaternock would have to figure out on his own. If the curse were in the literal sense though, Arin could potentially use his expertise as a bargaining chip to strike a deal with the dragonborn. Depending on the nature of the curse, however---…

The sudden entrance of Princess Rynn startled Arin out his thoughts, though it was soon replaced with confusion. He bowed deeply as was customary, standing up straight only when Rynn started talking.

As Rynn spoke, the elf gradually realized this was the “Lady” they were waiting for, but this raised questions. Why did the guards not just say Princess Rynn was coming to see them? Why did she come alone and not with her parents? There were more questions, but they were, at least at the moment, more of the personal variety and not entirely related to the theft of the Dark Dagger. Besides, based on the princess’s attire, Arin had a sneaking suspicion that he’d have plenty of time to ask those questions later.

“I figured now would be the time for questions. I'd rather not waste a moment going over useless information, so tell me what you'd like to know.”

Arin waited to see what kind of questions the others would ask. He wanted to see what the others were focused on and gauge how much he could rely on them on investigative matters. He would ask questions if need be, but for now, he remained silent.

---

Elra relaxed when the doors opened, she hates small enclosed rooms. She relaxed and let go of holding hand with a whispered “Thank you.”

She listened to what people asked their questions. What she wanted to know was the lore of the dagger. Why it was called the Dark Dagger, what powers it had, how it came into being and how it was used. She waited her turn then asked.