Leon glanced over the contents of the room, taking in the information and weighing it against his current situation. If this mission had been pure infiltration and information gathering, he would have taken the time to copy the letters and done his best to make the room look like he had never set foot in it. Given that a conflict with Jadarl was all but certain he felt the pressure of time greater than the need for remaining undetected. 

The food and drink were of little consequence. He could poison them, but Jadarl was likely done with them and it was more likely Leon would just be poisoning rats or a hungry servant. The wines deserved a glance, but Leon was not skilled in determining whether anything was worthwhile save for how old it looked or impressive it's label. Leon stepped over to the desk instead.

He skimmed each of the letters, if necessary reaching out for Mask's blessing to translate the languages and make their literal translations clear to him. It was a limited spell, but a useful one when dealing with non-common languages. He muttered a curse under his breath that he lacked the magic to make quick copies of the letters. Since his theft was all but certain to be discovered he pocketed the ring as well thinking it likely either magical or perhaps some symbol of the organization Jadarl was tied to. 

He checked the usual places a man might hide valuables in his room, briefly lifting the mattress and sweeping his sword under the bed to see if it caught on anything that wasn't supposed to be there. When his search was done, that left only the desk's locked drawers. He eyed them briefly wondering what the odds were that Jadarl kept a spellbook inside. He wasn't sure he had the time to pry open the desk but it felt foolish to leave what could be a critical discovery behind. He did the math in his head, it would probably taken him about two or three minutes to pry off the back of the desk and give him basic access to the drawers.

Feeling his connection to his diety starting to strain, he reached once more for the power of Mask. He took off his mask, setting it on the ground and pulling out a small handful of blessed dice with strange markings that only a Maskarran could interpret. Muttering a prayer to Mask, he asked the Lord of Shadows to give him a hint of the future to come. A glimpse of whether raiding this desk would benefit him and his companions... or lead to death. The dice were thrown.