Zell picked up the solo glass sitting on the tray, on the table, eyeing it briefly before setting it down and picking up the bottle.
"Empty. He likes a drink," Zell muttered. He unscrewed the lid and sniffed. "Brandy. Good taste."
Moving on, he found some papers on a cabinet and scanned each one. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
It was when he went into the bedroom that he actually came across some pertinent information. It didn't take much snooping to find the packed bags under the bed. "Well, well, well." Zell dragged them out and had a feeling he knew what he was about to find. He was right. Clothes, a few rations and some toiletries. "Looks like our Ambassador is planning a holiday. And there's only one way out of this city, as it stands."
He searched the bags for letters or documents but found nothing. No money either, which made no sense. Even if he'd already paid the Thieves Guild for the extraction, didn't mean he wouldn't need a few quid to get back to Capitol City, or wherever he was going. After searching the rest of the bedroom and coming up with nothing, he stood up straight and put a finger and thumb on his chin as he thought hard for moment. His eyes wandered until he his eyes landed on the thing he didn't even realise he was looking for.
A painting on the wall was tilted slightly, showing a slither of the wallpaper behind, which was a shade lighter, having been normally protected from dust when the frame was straight and in it's proper placement. "Aha." He went over and unhooked the painting off the wall, revealing... "Bingo." ...a safe.
Zell was no safecracker, but he did have a pretty good lockpick on his person. He drew his sword and held it with two hands in a stance that prepared for a stabbing attack. "Take Vor..." This would take some precision - a stab just above locking mechanisms, bringing the sword downwards as he withdrew. "...Baphomet."
<Sssing>
The quick, fluid motion. Razor sharp technique. Speed and precision. And of course, the steel alloy of dark iron and oricalchum went through the heavy safe like it was nothing.
Zell smiled darkly as he sheathed his sword and pulled the safe door open, the sliced metal lock-bolts falling and clattering on the wooden floorboards as he did so. And there were the prizes; a pouch full of platinum and gold, and a bunch of documents and envelopes. He sat down on the bed, using a pillow for his back, at the headboard, and putting his feet up, crossing an ankle over the other. Suddenly he got a... well, not a pain... but something... a feeling deep in his skull. It was strange, he couldn't do anything but put a hand to his temple as he was taken by it. Then the presence of Baphomet could be felt. As if the Devil was sat behind Zell eyes and watching the world through the Englishman's vision. This was a worrying development. Baphomet wasn't usually around until Zell was sleeping.
There was no time to contemplate the matter any further, as sounds could be heard coming from downstairs. Zell perked up. Someone had come in. And they were heading up the stairs.
"Crap." Zell looked around for a hiding spot and saw the wardrobe. He jumped off the bed and quickly went over, opening the doors and seeing the cramped little space. "Double crap." He was not fitting in there. Not quickly and quietly, at any rate. He had to get out of this room, but now the footsteps were closing in on this floor. It was the Ambassador!
After realising that hiding was not an option, Zell quickly decided on the kind of play he would make here. Fortunately, it was one from the playbook that fit his strengths. So, he quickly shut the bedroom door, went back to the bed and reassumed his relaxed demeanour with his feet up and a document in his hand. On the other side of the door, Zell could hear the Ambassador moving around his living room area, here and there, until finally the footsteps came closer to the bedroom. Zell pretended to be reading as the door opened and looked up with mild surprise, like one of those corny commercials. He even said the line. "Oh, hi. Didn't see you there. You must be wonderin-"
He didn't even get to finish his meme as the Ambassador, horrified, took a step backward and then turned to run. And turn he did, but he ran and bumped right into the chest of Zell who had teleported behind him, bouncing off the taller, heavier swordsman. Zell had only used his teleport twice in battle, (once by accident,) but since figuring it out, it was quickly becoming useful in non-combat situations too.
"Calm down, will ye," Zell said, as if offended that the man would react in such a way to finding some stranger sat on his bed. The Ambassador backed up, terrified and fell back on the bed into a sitting position. "Malcom? Or Mr Crane? No need to be alarmed. Remember me?"
Malcom Crane narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. It took him but a brief moment and then his eyebrows slowly rose. Zell nodded slowly as the understanding dawned. The Ambassador was still confused. "Wha... What do you want?"
Zell folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "Well; when I found out, through my contacts, that the Thieves Guild had a secret, underground escape tunnel from the their headquarters to the outside of the city, my first thought was, 'Who is important enough to need safe passage out of this siege?'" he started. "Of course; not
everyone is going to be able to use the tunnel. Not everyone has the money to pay, for one. And for two; if too many people start piling through the tunnel, the enemy is sure to catch on. So; who needs to go?" he half unfolded his arms to gesture about casually with a hand as he talked. Malcom just sat there, still alarmed but listening at least. "And
that's when I thought of
you. Of course. You have to survive. A man of your esteem? In your position? You have to make it back to Capitol City, if possible, to report on the situation. To lend your expertise and advice on how to proceed."
Zell walked over to the bed and sat next to Malcom Crane and sighed. "We need to get you out of here. And I see you've already figured things out with the Thieves Guild, you've got your bags packed and everything. Problem is, you've paid to use the tunnel... but whoever you've hired to be your bodyguard is a complete and utter waste of money." The Ambassador arched an eyebrow. Zell looked back at him, unperturbed. "If the enemy catch you, outside the city - trust me - your bodyguard is not going to stop them killing you all. You need a real fighter. Someone powerful. Someone saaaayyy.... from a party who slew Aurok the Maneater. Catch my meaning?"
After a moment to process everything, the Ambassador was slowly but surely falling for the pitch. And why not? It was probably true. But of course, with this all being highly illegal, the city official was on edge. "Why would you do this? What do you want out of it?"
"I want you safe. And once you're far enough away from Valhiem, I'll come back here and help defend the city. And, if I survive, maybe in the future, if there's a way you can help me, then you might be willing to return the favour." Zell shrugged, then nodded pointedly at the busted safe. "A small fee out of that sack of platinum wouldn't go amiss, too, if you're feeling generous. But mostly, just the friendship of a man in politics." Zell let him think for a few seconds before making the man's decision for him. He slapped his knee and stood up. "So... when are we leaving?"
"Ah.. err... tonight." And there was Malcom's answer and decision. Zell was pleased. It wasn't like the Ambassador could refuse, anyway. Zell was experienced in dealing with illegal activity. One advantage when extorting another criminal... they can't go to the police without ratting themselves out.
Ell-oh-ell."Tonight? Alright, good," Zell said. "So long as whoever's in charge of the tunnel is going to let me back in, I'll be your escort. We'll get you a few hours away from Valhiem. If we can get on the West Road to the village of Cherrad, I think you'll be able to purchase a horse there. I'll be back in the city before dawn and nobody will have a clue what's happened. Job's a good'un."