Vincent's curiosity would indeed be peeked, he would scoot back the chair a bit and kick back on it and balance on the back legs of it as he thumbs through the paperwork. His tail tip scratching over the horns on his head. His tongue clicking in his mouth as he silently read over the paperwork.
After a few minutes of reading the papers and ignoring everything around him, Vincent smiles as he realizes something... Sergeant Blackerly, that pudgy sadist that visited the villains cell, has been surreptitiously stealing money from the prison. He orders the supplies much cheaper than normal, from obviously blackmarket sources, then acts as if he has bought them at full price, pocketing the difference to fill his coffers. He something strange written on the bottom of one page, in some sort of cipher.
Vincent is unable to determine what the cipher means.
Veldrin watches Vincent pouring over the paperwork, though the fiend touched man seems a bit lost "Can I lend a hand? I know a fair amount of languages, might be able to translate what you're looking at"
Vincent would explain what he's found and tap at the curious markings in the corner that he couldn't quite piece together.
Veldrin takes a moment thinking about the cipher, trying different techniques that are commonly used. None of them seem to work, but... wait. If the two are combined... His mind works, each letter and number falling into place. The cipher translates to 'Total earnings from these fools this month: 1,250 gold from skimming off the top, a 390 silver from the nightly card games, and that jeweled dagger from Miri in that rigged card game. These people around here are so dense! Ah well, no skin off my back, so long as they keep that space empty between their ears. Still, need to find a way to pay back the Baron S. for that debt or I'm a dead man. The money won't mean anything then. Maybe I could stage a 'prison riot' break into the treasury and storeroom next door, loot the place, and make off with it all? Got to remember that duped key's in the empty 'Restorative' in my lockbox. Keep it together Tom, you can work around all these rubes!'
Veldrin reads over the cipher, aloud. "Well. Well, well, well. That is very interesting to say the least. Miri, my dear, I believe you've been hoodwinked and then some. I say we found this treasury and storeroom, take all the loot for ourselves, and then collect 'taxes' on ole Blackerly"
Miri looks at you quizzically, "Whoa, wait a second, someone hoodwinked ME? I think you must be mistaken dear boy, for Miranda Telopani does not get tricked! Just what is it you see there?"
"Apparently, he bilked you out of a jeweled dagger in a card game he had rigged"
"HE WHAT?!" she shrieks as she snatches the papers out of your hands. After looking over the paper quickly, she makes sense of the cipher. "Ok, calm down Miri. Think peaceful thoughts... Ok, change of plans, we find that fat bastard, you let ME kill him. No one bilks me and lives! Deal?"
"I'm rather OK with that" He says, with a wicked grin. "Lets go find this storeroom first though. I have some belongings I'd like back"
Hearing silence from behind both doors, Jaq would open the one he currently stood before. Veodrin and Vincent could search the office just fine. "One of you want to check the other door? Shouldn't be anyone in there and who knows what they've hidden around here."
Seeing no objections from the rest of the party, Vritra picked up the blade, swinging it gently as he adjusts to the strange weight. Finding he can only carry it in two hands, the Suli smiles. The tool seemed to thrum in his hands, his blood seething, called up by the blade. Soon...
Shaking off the thrum, Vritra retrieved the sheath from the corpse, placing the blade within it. Soon it would taste blood... but not yet.
Vincent shook his head a bit "Trust me, everyone gets the short end of the stick from time to time...but if you want a bit of help making the poor man suffer, I can offer a few suggestions...of course you can gladly land the final blow but death is too sweet and quick a release most days." he said as he kicked back off the desk and flipped over the chair and stretched. Man did it feel good to stretch after being in those blasted chains. He waltz over to the door and attempted to open it. "Oh, someone find that key he mentioned...should be in a lockbox somewhere...let me know when you find it and I'll fish her out." he said.
Jaq walks though the door with the tag 'Sergeant's Quarters'. At first glance, the appears to simply be a slovenly kept bedchamber that one would expect anywhere but here, Talingarde's most organized and feared prison. There is a bed covered in disheveled sheets and blankets, a small oak night table and a rather large wardrobe. Sitting atop the night table and wardrobe are various items, which are difficult to make out at this distance due to the poor lighting.
Veldrin and Vincent both walk to the door marked 'Storeroom' . The large door is made of some form of sturdy wood banded with iron stips apparently intended to make it harder to break and a large lock looms right above the handle. Vincent tries to open the door, in the hopes that it may be unlocked, but discovers the lack has the door shut fast.
Vincent wasn't surprised when the room turned out to be locked...after all that is what the info said. He pulled out the masterwork thieves tool and went to work on it trying to get it open.
Jaq took a moment to cast a detect magic and then headed further into the room. He headed first for the nightstand. He would search all of it. The night stand, the wardrobe, even under the mattress and bed. He looked for anything and everything, magical and not.
Seeing Vincent attempt to crack the lock, Veldrin casts a minor spell to assist him.
Vritra follows the others, glancing around as the party split off. Choosing to follow Veldrin and Vincent, the Suli keeps a hand on the newfound blade in case it needed to be utilized.
Vincent would grumble a bit as he could almost get it unlocked but he slips on the last tumbler. He bites his tongue as he concentrates and attempts again carefully.
Vincent fumbles several times trying to pick the lock to the storeroom, frustrating him at every turn.
Jaq searches the Blackerly's slovenly kept quarters. The trinkets on the table are worthless junk, not even worth the effort to pick them up, like little wooden soldiers crudely carved by an unskilled hand and a walnut with a vulgar face painted on it, among others. Searching under the bed, Jaq finds a large iron lock box, probably 2'x2'x1' in it's basic dimensions. It has an ornate lock to keep it closed.
Veldrin beckons to Grumblejack "Hey big man, I think we might need your help here"
Grumblejack lumbers over, swatting the table out of his way like a toy. He grabs the handle on the door, braces himself, and pulls...
Snatching out the door handle and falling backwards with a *THUD*. "Well, can't say the bleedin' door ain't sturdy 'nough, right?"
Vincent blinked a bit as their large compatriot ripped the door handle off and didn't move the door even a tiny bit. "Well...that's not something you see everyday." he said getting more then a little bit annoyed at the door at this point. He growls softly and decides to give it one more try before he moves on to drastic measures.
Vritra watches as Grumblejack attempts to yank the door aside and manages to do nothing but pull the door handle away. A grin spreads across his face as some petty vengeance is fulfilled, and Vritra waits for Vincent to finish with the lock.
A chuckle came from the doorway Jaq had gone. "It seems some do not see the value in patience." Jaq was leaning there with an amused look at the results of the Vincent and Company's current lock picking operation. "I believe I found your lock box. Who would like to try opening it. Looks like a fancy complicated lock on it. I don't think you can 'pull' this one open." He couldn't help but chuckle some more. Looking towards those not engaged with the attempts at the other door, "Miri, Oscar, perhaps one of you would like to showcase your talents at picking locks? Care to see if you can open it faster than the door is taking?"
Vincent fumbles the picking of the lock, causing the probe of the lockpicks to warp.
At Jaq's words. Miri offers a wicked smile, "But of course, dear boy! Watch and learn..." Miri walks over to the lockbox Jaq pointed out and she takes out a thin-bladed dagger, almost like a stiletto, and slides it in the keyhole, makes a few turns...
failing miserably. "Son-of-a-up-jumped-Markadian bastard!" She attempts again taking a little more time...
failing again. "One last time, and if that fails, we're gutting Blackerly and taking his bloody keyring! Deal?" Without even waiting for an answer, Miri tries a third and final time...
failing again. "Ok, that's it! ? I have officially had enough of this crap. Let's go butcher us a swine, yeah? Get some keys AND some stress relief?"
Veldrin offers a conciliatory pat on Miri's back. "Relax my dear, gutting Blackerly was always a part of the plan" He studies the lock momentarily. "Hmm, I wonder if I froze it enough, would that help?"
Miri's face bears the countenance of a petulant child, her voice full of irritation, "How am I supposed to know, do I look like a bleeding alchemist?!" She appears shocked at the emotional outburst she just made, taking a moment to regain her poise and her smooth demeanor "Yes, of course it was always part of the plan to gut Blackerly, but now it's going to feel so much better now. Give me a few minutes to talk him out of that locksmith's name that made that damned lock? I would like to pay him a visit and 'politely' inquire how he made a lock that vexing. You know, professionalism and all that."
Veldrin begins the process of freezing the lock, hitting it over and over with a blast of cold.
Vincent would chuckle a bit at how easily Miri were to come to ire. However, Veldrin's idea does indeed sound good. "This is true, but perhaps a bit of back and forth. Metal can become quite brittle if frozen then suddenly heated and so on and so on." he offered as he began to fuss around in his Alchemy bag.
Giving the lock another try, Vincent gives the lock another go and... it opens!
Veldrin peers inside the room Vincent just revealed to them
Veldrin peeks into the storeroom for the prison. Though the room is dark, the Drow's eyes have no problem seeing. The room looks fairly scarce for a storeroom in the most infamous prison in Talingarde. There are a few chests here and there, several barrels and kegs, tables holding basic equipment such as manacles and ropes, and a sight that could make those in his band whince: a rack of brands with the runic 'F' that were used to mark them as as Forsaken. A door lies at the opposite end of the room, the brass plaque reading 'ARMORY'.
Walking into the room, the drow looks around more deliberately, checking if the chests have locks on them, as well as searching for his personal effects.
Veldrin examines the chests, checking for locks of some sort. There are no locks to speak of, save for a sort of hinged lock that is primarily used to keep it shut in case of transportation, but all that one would need to do to open it would be to flip the 'latch' up. Looking further, Veldrin finds several useful pieces of gear: ten bullseye lanterns, twenty four signal horns, 20 coils of rope, and a few bottles of unlabeled liquid that smells like wine. Underneath the table, there is a chest labelled 'PRISONER EFFECTS, FOR WARDEN MATHIAS' VIEWING ONLY!'.
Before checking anything else, Veldrin opens the prisoner effects chest.
Veldrin finds a large amount of assorted goods , including an Ogre sized outfit of surprisingly well-tanned leather.
The necromancer takes out his stuff first, then moves out of the way to let the others get their gear. As they do that, he begins opening the chests.
Vincent would slip in happy to see his effects. He quickly gathered them all up and began to strap everything down in place. It had been quite awkward feeling not having the bottles and water-skins not in their place adorned over his body. His fingers caressed a few of the familiar items as he stepped away and joined Veldrin in his search of the rest of the room.
Veldrin and Vincent begin opening the chests, barrels, and other containers in the storeroom, carefully noting their contents. In one large chest, there are several dozen torches carefully stacked on top of one another, perhaps over 100 . In another, there are several guard uniforms neatly folded into place . In still another, lies several sturdy leather backpacks, emblazoned with the seal of the Markadian Dynasty, with several pouches and pockets each .
Vincent runs the spigots on the two kegs and what appears to be whale oil for lanterns runs out, the trademark smell and greasiness of the substance making it obvious . He also opens the barrels lining one of the walls and catches a whiff of the moldy, maggot-ridden, and rotten iron rations for the prison. Judging from the state of the food, no one has even touched this stuff for years, nor cared to replace it.
Veldrin grabs one of the backpacks and carefully places the bottles of wine inside. "I'm sure I can find use for these later." He says by way of explanation.
Noting the kegs, he ponders aloud "We can definitely do something with those. I'm willing to bet Vincent and I could come up with some fun ideas."