JJ Doe

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.”

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

“I don’t think they actually kept it in a vault. As a symbol it would need to be on a display and not hidden behind locked doors,” Elra said, “I think also that her grace and other may have dealt with that issue or they may know more about who has it then they are letting us know.”

Arin responded to Elra after Callista finished speaking. “If this was before the thefts, I would agree with you, Miss Silverfang. I would not be surprised if they put the dagger on display for the whole world to see, to witness it in all its glory,” Arin’s voice changed to something more theatrical by the end of his sentence. He even twirled around once to add to the flair. “ However.” The elf stopped. “Imagine, after a series of petty thefts, things from the armory start to disappear. More valuable items start to vanish into thin air. Would you feel safe, leaving your prized relic out in the open, all day long? Of course, you could increase security, but you cannot avoid the inevitability that there will be fewer people active at night both inside the castle and out. Guards are also a limited resource: security would have to use what guards they had to make sure that the whole castle was safe in addition to protecting any and all valuable items. As time goes by, and there is no sign of the thefts stopping, the ‘resources’ will start to get very tired and stressed, they are people after all, but this makes them less reliable as protectors.”

Arin paused for a moment to make sure the others were following his line of thought before continuing, “Usually, preferably immediately after things from the armory were taken and before all the guards are worked to the bone, this is around the time the owners of the priceless items decide to place said items in a vault, at least at night. When there is no one to marvel at their glory.” Arin added the same theatrical tone as before to the last part of the sentence. “Vaults are, in theory, the safest place to store items. There is only one entrance that needs to be guarded after all. Even better ones make it hard to get in and out. You could comfortably manage security without them being overworked or overwhelmed.”

Arin’s eyes slowly moved towards and locked on to the guards, assessing their state, “I would be extremely surprised if not a single valuable item was moved from its original place despite there being an ongoing stealing rampage. Makes you wonder who made that decision if that was the case...” Arin added a bearly audible, “and why.”

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."

@pinkkoala321

Arin turned to the other elf, “Regardless of where the dagger was when it was stolen, you heard Lady Rynn say that the thief was able to access the vaults when she entered the room. Based on her choice of words, I can only assume that she too is unaware of how the thief was able to gain access to the areas where the thefts occurred and bypass the guards. They could not come up with even one suspect. Thus, I highly doubt they ‘have dealt with that issue’.”

Arin faced the princess, “I would rather be wrong, of course.” Though that would imply that the group was being actively misled. “Something or things, that may or may not be or include the Dark Dagger, have been stolen from the vaults and no one knows how. My previous statement still stands: it will happen again if you do not know how the theft was done.”

“Please correct me if I misunderstood the situation, or any detail, in any way.”

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

“We have no suspects. And we doubt it's anyone in Eastormel. No one here is that stupid.” Arin almost snorted. If he had learned anything from life, it was to never underestimate the stupidity of people. Stupidity was like an abyss in that it was bottomless; a pandemic in that it can spread like wildfire and, if left untreated, can be deadly. Even the wisest, most intelligent, and the noblest of creatures have done something incomprehensibly stupid at the most inopportune time.

“Right. We can't wait around here forever. If there aren't any other questions of the utmost importance to you lot, we should head out. The Underground is nearly a week's ride from here if we take our fastest horses.” “We”… so we will be babysitting her royal highness after all. I wonder if the King sanctioned this. More than that, Arin wondered why they were being rushed out of the castle. They had just arrived and given no time to do anything. Did the crown not want them to properly investigate or was there more to this theft that even the King, or someone near him, didn’t want to disclose? If it was the latter… Arin’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them fading. Someone is going to be in trouble.

“Our first stop will be the town of Timberholde. If we leave now, we should reach the inn not long after nightfall.”

“Forgive me, ‘Lady’ Rynn, but before we leave, I would like to request that we look at the vault ourselves, as Miss Felmir suggested.” Arin nodded at Callista’s direction. “A fresh set of eyes may shed some light on the case.” Arin turned to redirect the princess’s gaze to the study, “I would also like to borrow any documents you may have on Eastormel Castle, before, after, and when it was built.” Arin turned back to the princess, ignoring the guards who looked like they wanted to deny the elf’s request, “I do understand that you believe time is of the essence.” Why? I do not know. If it was stolen and sold to someone, then it was sold by now. If it was taken by someone, or a group, who was going to use it, it wasn't difficult to assume the dagger was in their hands. Simply too much time passed since the theft. The only reason to rush now was to prevent the dagger from being “used”, whatever that entailed. “I ask of this because, even if we do successfully recover the dagger, it does not solve the problem that there is a method to enter the castle without being detected by anyone. As long as this mystery is not solved, something like this is bound to happen again.”

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

“<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.

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

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.

Dark Dagger

Sorry for the long post, there were some things I wanted to establish/set up beforehand.

@pinkkoala321 Sounds good to me!

Dark Dagger

Arin von Astastel

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.”

Dark Dagger

Name
Arin von Astastel

Sex
Male

Age
35

Race
Elf

History
Arin was born into the House of Astastel, a prestigious yet mysterious family whose influence can be felt in virtually every part of the civilized world. Although they are not officially recognized as a noble House, members of the Astastel House are accustomed to a life of luxury and being treated with the uttermost respect. There are many speculations on how the Astastel House came to gain such power, but no one knows the truth: not even their own members truly know the answer.

There are only three things people know with absolute certainty. First, unless you are born a von Astastel, you either marry into or are adopted by the House. Never the other way around. Never. Second, those who claim to be a von Astastel are a von Astastel. Finally, the House of Astastel has become increasingly interested in collecting magical items and investigating places associated with magic these past few generations.

Other

• In general, something about Arin rings false.
• Arin seems to have an aptitude for magic, but non-family members have only seen him use it for minor things such as creating light or detecting magic. He does, however, practice alchemy and abjuration magic.
• Arin is by no means a specialist in combat: he can protect himself well enough against the common thug, but that is about the extent of his combat skills. He is much better at dodging attacks and escaping from dangerous situations than being an active participant of one.
• Arin's strengths lie in academia and investigation.