The following morning, the adventurers reassemble at the apartment shared by Janosz and Ezreal.
"Howdy." Janosz is frying up eggs and bacon while sipping on a harsh-looking morning-after drink. "Care for some breakfast?"
"I've heard some rumors.......many people having bad dreams;........apparently, some folks from Sarlona built....something across the river. Nothing too specific really."
Rolund is one of the last to arrive behind the others of the Karrn group; his face looking just as grim as before. He frowns at the offer of breakfast.
“No thanks,” he says to the Shadow Marcher. “I am unwell from the debriefing and from the news that was awaiting us.”
“It seems our money problems are over for a while. The totem that was given to us has sold at the auction. Someone or something has paid forty thousand platinum crowns for it.”
"Hot damn! This day is shaping up.
So,.....what's the news from Karrnath?"
Runzyl offers to assist Janosz with the food preparations, serving himself a fairly large portion in response to Rolund's refusal of the meal.
He sits at the far end of the table, eating quietly and having little else to offer besides his attention to the matters being discussed.
"This is good stuff. I'm not the world's best expert on elven cooking, but this is primo food!
Runzyl, if you weren't such a one-elf army, I'd definitely say you should be a chef in a five star restaurant!"
Bor will eat all that is set before him, still hungry after his first breakfast. Then he will probably go eat "third breakfast" somewhere.
Heh heh....
The Valenar smirks, shaking his head slightly at Rodergo. "I think you will find that Valenar cooking and 'elf' cooking, as most of you know it, are quite different indeed. This is Janosz's doing, however. I merely provided an extra pair of hands."
After finishing a mouthful of eggs, the elf glances across the table towards Rolund and Ezreal. "So, what is this news that you find so troublesome? Does it pertain to Marius?"
"Fourty thousand platinum pieces? That was not a typo from the bank?"
"Forty thousand platinum is correct, and that is after the commission. Rolund will have to make an appearance to get access to the Kundarak account and it would be best if he weren't making that kind of trip alone. Even if the auction house was quite discrete that kind of money makes waves and could very well attract unwelcome attention." The mage takes a sip from his tea, "I think I would like to shop around today for something that might give us an edge the next time we cross paths with Fougri."
I'm gonna buy stuff.
Never being one for emotional things, Bor sorta just blurts out "Well, comrades, the time has come for me to return to my homeland and take my place as a leader. Having been a part of your travels, I have come to understand more of the ways of outlanders. Gaining this knowledge was my goal and will greatly help me in my duties. Should you ever find yourself in Xen'drik, I hope you will look for me in the south."
Runzyl stands at Bor's abrupt farewell. "If the winds of fate should blow us in that direction, then we shall seek you out. Aa' i'sul nora lanne'lle.*"
The Valenar shakes the minotaur's hand and pats him on the shoulder with a smile and a nod. "Safe travels."
Bor returns the handshake, and strikes his chest once with his fist in a customary salute. "It was an honor and a pleasure to fight by a warrior of your skill, Runzyl. It would fill my hearts with pleasure to share a few kegs with you all in my keep. Hopefully, you can bring the Lightbringer as well, so I can properly thank him for sparing my life."
"It was an honor to call you friend and cohort, Bor.
I'd like to see your Xendrik one day....."
"you would like it, Flamebringer. You can find nearly any sort of... Entertainment you might like" says Bor with a chuckle.
"Heh heh, I'm sure I could."
"Farewell, Bor of Xendrik. I trust if you ever need our arms, you will avail yourself to call us."
Gil simply raises a hand in farewell, smiling. Her unusually quiet mood continues.
Bor shakes everyone by the hand and exits, heading for the docks. Meanwhile, the decision as to what to do next awaits.
Sounds good;......
The group head for Korranth district on Central. This is where the Kundarak Bank branch is situated, along with most of the other banks in Sharn. To some, the area represents the unacceptable face of commerce, where profiteers financed the Last War and lined their pockets as men died far away on the front lines. Now they line their pockets financing the post-war rebuilding. Needless to say, the economy of Khorvaire would probably collapse without them. That the financiers are aware of this, and smugly continue their money games unabashed, is what makes them loathed by many.
The party find their way to the bank. At this time of day the streets are busy with the districts' workers arriving for the morning. Most look ordinary enough, presumably clerks rather than plutocats, though overhead soar flocks of skycoach taxis and a few private limosines for the better-off. Liveried guards, discreetly armed, stand in porticoed doorways. The streets are wide and clean, with views dominated by the flashing golden cupolas of the temple to Kol Korran, god of wealth.
The Kundarak Bank branch is almost as equally impressive, as befits the largest financial enterprise on the face of Eberron. The immense double doors, now open to the street, seem to be made of twenty-foot high slabs of adamantine. Passing under the lintel leads to the main banking hall, an airy cavern of glowing marble supported by slim pillars and lit by shafts of light from the glass domes in the ceiling far above. By the far wall the tellers sit behind the counter, an extravaganza of fine wood carving chased with gold, stamping documents. Sound is lost in the vastness of the hall, and muffled by the almost ankle-deep plushness of the carpet. This place is almost as much of a shrine to sanctity of money as the temple across the road.
A footman greets the incoming adventurers. If he is concerned by their appearance, he doesn't show it and is unfailingly polite as he enquires about their business. Their requirements ascertained, they are then ushered into a side corridor and then into a waiting room. Refreshments are swiftly delivered - the finest teas, coffees and petit-fours, all on silver service. After a brief wait a well-dressed dwarf and his assistant, a younger-looking female dwarf, enter the room.
"Greetings," says the dwarf, bowing formally. He wears a heavy brocade coat of the type often worn by traditionalist dwarven nobility, and his hair and beard are uncut but well-groomed and held in place with gold rings. "I am Enile d'Kundarak and this is my assistant, Nobe. I am the Deputy President of this branch of the Kundarak Bank. I understand that you are here to collect a sum of money from the Quaria Auction House client account?"
"Indeed we are sir. We need capital to finance our exploits."
"Very good. I would be grateful if you could present some form of identification."
"Certainly, my good sir....." says Rodergo as he offers them up, relieved that he doesn't have to explain that they were lost in the Mournlands.......
The dwarf quickly scans them and then looks slightly embarrassed. "Thank you, sir. However, the note is written to the benefit of Sir Rolund ir'Kraal. Is he present?"
"I am here." Rolund answers and presents his identification papers.
They scrutinise the papers, taking notes.
"Very good, Sir Rolund, these seem to be in order. Finally, may we submit you to some minor divinations to ensure you are who you say you are? We wouldn't require this normally, but given the sum involved it is procudure for us to do so."
Rolund frowns slightly at the request. "Proceed."
"Very good, sir." Enile nods to Nobe.
The female dwarf lifts up a pendant, a glittering bauble of crystal on the end of a gold chain. The cuff of her sleeve drops back revealing part of a dragonmark, which begins to glow slightly. She waves the pendant back and forth a few times in front of Rolund, the crystal spinning about and flashing, her face screwed up in concentration. This goes on a for about a minute, then she lowers the crystal and blinks a few times to clear her head. There's a look of concern on her face and she whispers something urgently in Enile's ear.
"What?" sputters Enile, before composing himself. He turns to the adventurers and smiles. "Would you excuse us a moment?" He and his assistant sweep out the door.
"Hmm. Complications." Ezreal sighs then wonders what got two professionals to break composure like that.
"Heh. I guess running after them to, ah, talk some sense into them is out of the question? Yeah, that's what I thought too." Janosz drain his cup of tea and helps himself to a new one.
Cassandra-Gil looks at the bone knight. "She said there is some powerful magic on you. Something she could not identify. Any ideas?"
After a few minutes the two dwarves return, both looking extremely embarrassed. "Sir Rolund, I apologise for leaving you for a moment but we needed to consult the procedures manual. Our divinations identified that you are subject to a powerful enchantment, a compulsion effect. Were you aware of this?"
"Does it matter?" Rolund darkly responds.