With some help Itra knocks the Golden key from the ceiling. It falls towards the floor where Mai grasps it out of the air.
The only lock that remain are on the Steel Chest (& anything it contains) and the door out of the vaults....
The gold key fits snugly into the lock and turns unlocking it with a click.
Blue mists sprays out from the box, in a 10 foot radius. The fine azure particles hanging upon the air.
The spray of blue sticks to Itra's skin once more, dappling her in the 'ink' - fortunately it doesn't clump and form streaks, just dense blue freckles.
However what is more interesting is inside the box are a bunch of thick parchment maps in pristine condition - however they do show their age. A paper band keeps them together, written across it is Salhar Burial Vaults 'neath Solhis. The very maps that you are looking for, for Ventrue-Captain Valsin. Atop this is a gnarled stick with a note: For your troubles - Amenopheus.
As you unlock the door Amenopheus greets you, a smile on his face: "We done, Pathfinders." he emphasises the last word. "You have done well, especially you - young guard." he nods to Itra.
"You can take the wand too, as well the maps. Though you'll have to ask young Valsin, about keeping it. Think of it as a gift from the Osirian Lodge." he adds with a smile that brings out the creases in the corners of his eyes.
"You are welcome and if you, or any of you wish to join the Osirion Lodge. Well.... our doors are open, especially for clever people as yourselves." he adds patting his long voluminous clothing.
The pouch he was bringing out of his robes suddenly unties, the string slips to the floor with a cascade of gold coins following. The leather unable to contain the money releases it's burden from the old man's hands. "Oh, that was to be your reward.... well still is." he says as the precious coins tinkle forming a pile on the floor.
"It's fine." he says kindly; "I'd help you but my knees aren't what they once were. So young Pathfinder you seem quite enquiring? Where are you bound next? Seeing another of the Faction heads?"
Amenopheus gives a knowing smile, "Enjoy. My door is always open for you, if needs be."
~~~
Outside it's getting on into afternoon, the peaceful call of gulls cry out in the warm sunshine. The streets are quiet in the Wise quarter, even the animals are relaxing - as you pass a dog lounging on a wooden bench.
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"We must hurry, Pathfinders," Mai says, suiting her pace to her words, trotting through the streets toward the south, from the Wise Quarter to the Ivy, "The day is aging and we have not yet completed our missions. Fortunately, the Ivy District is not far."
Though Mai keeps her eyes open for surly halflings or angry-looking women, her haste makes her careless.
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Itra frowns thoughtfully as she follows at a more sedate pace. "I don't really see a need to hurry," she comments, "After all, we've only got to 'retrieve an item' from the Paracountess... I'm sure there'll be nothing to it..."
The blue dots on her face make it difficult to tell whether she's serious or not... as well as making it hard for her to see, apparently.
The trip from the Wise Quarter to the Ivy District isn't too far, under a mile of so. The streets change slightly with large town-houses predominating rather than the walled off estates of Councilman Salhar.
The style changes too, a magnificent gothic structure stands 3-storeys high before the group. Deep grey stone with Ivy creeping up the walls nicely framing the hard-wood windows.
Soon you arrive at the Paracountesses house. There's ebon lacquered double doors with fine silver filigree ironmongery. A bell-pull hangs from the door, topped with a silver pine cone.
A servant in a dark silk shirt and britches opens the door, he smiles at them and draws his arm back welcoming them to the house. A open and deceptively large entrance hall stands before the group, black and white checker-board upon the floor.
Plush walnut furniture is artistically placed around the walls. "Can I take your clothes... jackets?" he asks with a voice as smooth as caramel on a warm day.
He nods his head. Looking at the group through languid heavy lidded eyes, sensuous honeyed eyes take in the group, with a soft pout he turns. "Of course, Mistress will meet you in her chambers - though I'm sure a private audience could be arranged." he purrs invitingly.
Moving before the group with fluid grace, a trained motion showing his taut body off to the maximum. The silken shirt billows slightly, revealing his muscular chest moonlight in contrast to the dark silk.
With a sashay the servant leads you through darkly opulent rooms, fine pieces of furniture and art are scattered throughout the building. All in the best possible taste, though some of the marble statues require a second look. Past the ballrooms and up the grand stairs to the third floor and Paracountess Zarta's personal study. Unlike Salhar's rich estate this has a different feel, of items collected and held - with a keen eye to their aesthetics and value. Beneath the feet is a luxuriant carpet, a deep rouge and the building is at a perfect temperature.
KNOCK, KNOCK he knocks upon the stained panelled doors to the Chellaxian's study. After announcing his presence he pushes open the door.
A large, intricate crimson carpet dominates the marble floor in the study, a plush chaise reclines against the north wall and to the south east corner a desk spans. Behind this leather topped antique sits Paracountess Zarta, she looks up from her paperwork - regarding the Pathfinders with a wry smile.
Moving the paperwork to one side, she moves to the front of the desk revealing a long elegant gown with a plunging neck-line that almost meets the leg slit in the skirt section. Flicking her raven tresses alluringly across her alabaster features, she perches upon the desk. "Aldor, you are dismissed. Close the door behind you and attend your other tasks." she says in a throaty purr.
"Yes, mistress." he responds and tenderly closes the door behind him.
She then turns her attention to the group, looking at them with sensual, dark hungry eyes. "It's always so adorable when I see a bunch of fresh-faced batch of pathfinders. I mean, look at you scrumptious little tea cakes."
"I could eat each and every one of you up." punctuating every word by pointing the individuals; "Well maybe not you." Zarta points at Rook with her exquisitely manicured fingernail.
Raising her eyebrows and with a pout of her full lips she continues; "I assume this isn't a pleasure visit since most of you are terribly overdressed for that manner of occasion, so it must mean that you are here for that trinket Valsin has been nagging me about. Seems I can't get that man around these parts anymore." to emphasise her words, she gestures sliding her hand down the line of her body elegantly, producing a small gasp, and widening the gesture to sweep out across the room as if her home were merely a secondary thought. "On the good side, that means he always sends me new recruits." she smiles wickedly.
"Many think we in Cheliax service and worship devils, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, we use the creatures for their power. They serve us and we sculpt their power in our own interests. The world must come to terms with things. People need to know their place and operate accordingly. It's the only way to make order from the world. Too many people stretch too far beyond their station making waves and eroding the true order." she pouts softly, trying to convince you of her argument.