Bjorkus pauses long enough to toss a length of rope to Dalton.
"Quit gabbin' and help me tie them up", the minotaur rumbles.
"You say you have your reasons. You must find them heavier than the terror and the potential harm of others that aiding these villains can and did result in. You might like to think that there would be no harm if no one was shot, but you fail to see the harm of violation and victimization of strangers. Perhaps a court will find your reasons weighty as well, but don't ask us to validate them."
Shaking his head at the man's justifications and unwilling to take a traitor's word as truth, Toramin leaves to investigate.
He shrugs, seeming unwilling and uncaring to explain himself. As the events unfold around him he gets lost in his own thoughts, slumping down the wall to sit on the floor.
You open the northern door and release half the hostages, who stammer their thanks and make their way outside in shock. As you all come to the southern room, you can't help but remember the drow that fled in here. But you open the door and you see nothing but the other half of the hostages who jump up at the site of their rescuers.
After all of the robbers are bound, Bjorkus leaves to find Toramin and make sure all the hostages are freed.
"Any sign of the drow? He came this way", he asks. "And where the hell are the guards?"
The surviving robbers are tied up and the hostages all set free. As the last group is exiting, you think you see a short plump man turn and give you the faintest hint of an amused smile - then he disappears into the growing crowd.
Less than a minute after the hostages exit the front doors burst open and the First Guard come flooding in. A dozen knights covered from head to toe in metal demand the party's surrender of arms. They are unwilling to budge on the matter, surrounding and demanding surrender until all of the weapons clatter to the floor. Two of them come forward with multiple sets of manacles when somebody else enters the room.
The slow, methodical fall of armored boots precedes the opening of the main doors. Behind them now stands a man in helmet-less full plate who must be in his sixties, and instantly recognized as the captain of the guard, Lictor Diviri. He's the farthest thing from a friendly looking man; a hard set to the jaw, multiple scars on his head and neck, and a cold gaze as he slowly sweeps the room. He takes his time coming over to the party, but it looks to be the effect of disciplined and systematic tools of perception as opposed to his age.
Diviri eventually stands before you, a frown that seems like a permanent part of his face greeting you all. He makes a small motion with two fingers and immediately a chorus of metal ringing on stone is conjured as the men all step back and stand at attention. He speaks in a deep clear voice, not very loudly but the room seems to fall silent in the presence of his words. "The manacles will not be necessary for these six. Unless they have managed to trick over a hundred citizens then they are the heroes of this fiasco. Continue the sweep." The men all thump a mailed fist on their chest, then continue further into the bank.
Diviri stands with his arms folded, observing you all closely. His eyes pause on Heff and he sneers. "I'm not surprised to see you're involved, but I am surprised to see what side you're on." Heff for once has nothing to say, nodding quietly as he absentmindedly curls a lock of his hair. After a moment the door to the offices opens and a knight of the First comes, quickly recounting everything that can be observed in that room. Diviri nods, dismissing him with another small wave. "Shame you killed their leader, the pawns usually don't know s&@@ beyond how much they're going to get payed. So, tell me what happened."
A few minutes into your story a page bursts in. He looks like he has been running, wiping back his sweat soaked bangs as he crosses to you. After a salute he takes out a few pieces of papers "Sir! I got Elgrun to investigate the area. There is some sort of mass scale spell that's an enchantment-illusion hybrid. To the outsiders it appears as if all if well, and anybody approaching the bank feels as if they forgot something and turn around." He flips to the next page, going down it a few lines before continuing. "Tuli has checked the visual banks and reports the had scouted out vault AC687, a very large vault whose owner is anonymous." He flips to the last page. "Uthruk reports no civilian casualties, and the only injuries were minor ones caused by the broken glass." Diviri nods and grunts. "Well somebody knows who he is. Tell Tuli I'm authorizing him to open this vault. I want a detailed accounting of everything behind that door. That is all." The page salutes again and jogs off.
The open door is caught by Geoffrey who smiles to the page before closing the door behind him and crossing over. "You just can't stay out of trouble can you? From what I hear congratulations are in order, you seem to have saved the day!" He offers a hand to Diviri, who gives it a firm handshake. "Lictor, by the Judge how are you? Must have been a year since I've seen you."
Diviri folds his arms again. "Was good until today. Damn embarrassing this whole stunt is, one simple trick." He shakes his head. "Bloody magic, am I right? Hang all the mages and the world gets a lot fairer." Heff nudges Dalton and smiles. "The rest of these men yours?" He gestures to everybody save Heff and Rilka. "We discovered what vault they were after, I was thinking about running down there personally, come join me. Have a feeling I might need some help before the day is done."
You take the same cart down to the vaults, a nervous bank employee running the controls. This trip is much longer, the track this time winding down deep into the earth. The air grows more stagnant and frigid, and eventually the faint glow of natural phosphorous is your only light beyond the torch Geoffrey holds. You stop at a massive vault that looks much older than the one Heff showed you to. A series of five keys are required for this door, and once the knight scrapes the huge door back you are met by the site of...nothing. The vault, large enough to fit a pair of houses in, is completely empty save a small piece of paper in the center of the room. Diviri slowly walks over and picks it up, eyes glancing over it before he reads it aloud.
"Still one step ahead of you old friend. I hope you find a deep hole to hide in.
~ T"
Geoffrey and Diviri look at each other in confusion, but Heff leans against the frame of the door and keeps glancing outside. He looks nervous about something.
Rilka holds her hands just above her shoulders as the First Guard come thundering into the room. She keeps her face impassive, not wanting to appear critical in the response time.
She studies the paladin after he accosts her companions and looks for their reactions.
Down in the vault, she listens to the note being aloud with surprise. An anonymous owner. An empty vault. A taunting message. Curious. She scans the area for any traces of runes, hidden doors, or traps.
”We should find a cleric with enough of his god’s power to speak with the dead. Ask the leader a few questions.”
Answers are brief, cryptic, or repetitive, especially if the creature would have opposed you in life.
Lictor scoffs at the idea of using magic to investigate, and even Geoffrey shakes his head. "A good idea, but I doubt his spirit would be helpful."
That's why priests can speak with the dead. Toramin thinks when the head guard complains.
However, the young stonelord elects not tell the guard captain how to do his job. Moreover, he was just having difficulty getting worked up over the matter. Genocide, systemically abusing vulnerable populations -- these crimes called out for justice. This robbery was made possible by the bank's very security system. There are dangers in being a law unto oneself. These humans and drow must either know something Toramin did not or they get excited about any little thing.
Clearly, something is weighing on Heff's mind, but Toramin was going to let the man share on his own time. For trust to be received it must first be given.
No. What occupied Toramin's thoughts was the technological marvels of this place. How was it built?
Bjorkus readies his weapon again and prepares for battle when the sound of armored boots comes to his attention. His instinct was to assume that armored men, coming in force, were after him. It takes a targeted effort to realize that this time, they were on his side. The minotaur greets the tough old man with a grunt and observes his interaction with Heff. Wonder what he knows 'bout us?
When they reach the plundered vault, Bjorkus is surprised and in disbelief. "Only one got away - a drow. If this thing was full, there's no way he walked away with everything in here", he rumbles.
"The magic they used to pull this heist off was powerful and unique. There can't be a whole lotta mages round here that could pull off something like that."
Geoffrey considers Bjorkus's observation. "I know of three mages powerful enough to pull off such a spell, but none of them specialize in this field of magic. Tiasar is a conjurer, Mortimer and evoker, and the last a diviner." He examines the note again. "It seems whoever owns this vault knew about the heist before it could happen."
”Can you get Tiasar down here? Maybe he can tell us more about whatever mage was helpin’ these fools.”
”Unless you can do it?” the minotaur says with a glance at Dalton.
"I'd prefer not to if Dalton can manage it. His position keeps him very busy and he works too hard as it is without doing favors."
Snapping out of his of his musings, Toramin offers.
"Maybe the note was all that was ever here? It would be a great misdirection. Lease a vault in an ostensibly well-protected bank. Make a production out of it. And then hide your treasure somewhere else. It would focus your enemies attention right where you want it. May I see the note?"
If shown the note, does the handwriting look familiar? Say from Twaniel?
-- Toramin doesn't know who this random human could be.
Geoffrey hands the note over, brow furrowed in thought.
Diviri stares at the corners of the room for a moment, then calls loudly for his page. "They keep records of deposits and withdrawals. You can keep the actual items off the report if you wish, but the times are logged." After a few minutes of waiting (and much running on the page's part) a piece of paper is thrust into Diviri's hand. He holds it up so everybody can see it. "Two months ago, one deposit from 9:32 to 9:48. The trip takes up most of that time, so whatever was deposited could be carried in one trip. And here, today. 7:03, right after the bank opened they made a withdrawal and a deposit. Same time frame." Despite his gruff nature and hatred of magic, Diviri seems fairly intuitive for a fighting man.
"I don't believe the author of this note primary language is the common tongue."
Diviri and Geoffrey both take a look at the note again. Diviri gives a little hmph and Geoffrey scratches his head.
Heff clasps his hands. "Well it sounds like quite the mystery to solve, will probably take some time so we should go and get our rest, been a long day!"
Toramin's stoney beard hides his smile. Heff does not want to be here. He doesn't like the guardsman? Or perhaps it is something else.
"Should we get what we came here for, sir? Though I wouldn't say no to some rest. Those guns have left me slightly cracked."
Finding a bit of cloth, Bjorkus wraps a bandage around his muscular torso to bind the still bleeding hole in his furry side. ”What did we come here for?”
"Next time you call me sir you're fired." Heff looks with interest at the wounds though. "Well that's certainly unique, how did that happen?"
Diviri looks around the room with his permanent frown. "To learn what they were after, but all we have is this note."
Well, my commanding officer, there was this bad man who pulled a musket on me. His bullets seem to have chipped my facade.
"Heff! That easy Toramin!" He continues to examine the wounds, then slaps himself in the head. "Here I am examining this abnormality when you're in pain. Come, we must find them healers!"
Bjorkus nods at Heff with his thick horns. ”I meant why did we come to this bank in the first place.”
Toramin continues to grin beneath his beard. No one ever appreciates my sense of humor.
The trip is quick but interesting, the cart going on many loops around the sphere shaped vaults. Finally you end in front of a vault about three feet in diameter, where the man turns and offers a key to Heff. Heff takes it, ushering you up to the front of the vault. He glances back at the cart driver-who is gnawing on an apple and staring directly away from you-before inserting the key and opening the small vault. Inside it is a large pile of copper brooch's with an A in the center of them. He grabs four, then closes the vault and motions back to the cart. Once inside he taps the bored man on the shoulder, who begins paying attention to you again as he sets down his apple and begins the journey back.
Heff offers each member (except Rilka) a brooch. "This will establish your authority as one of our agents. In some places it will open doors, in other places it will get your throat slit."
"I'm with Heff. I think that's nuff heroin' for today. You gettin' the drinks old man?" Bjorkus says with a snort.
Diviri is busy scribbling in a small notebook. He looks up to see if you're kidding, then upon seeing you aren't grunts and keeps scribbling. "Even if I cared to I have too much work to do."
”More for me”, the minotaur counters with a shrug.
Eager to see the sun again, Bjorkus heads for the exit.
"Well, that is that. Good day, sir guardsman. Good day, Sir Geoffrey"
Toramin will follow his comandante out of this bank.
Dalton does take mild offense at the captain's comment. Well, I never! But he differentiated the insult a bit internally, Heff's jab aside; the mage doing this apparently specialized in precisely the schools he didn't.
********
"I must agree with the Minotuar; whoever did this had quite the arcane talent. It's beyond both my desire and my ken." Dalton's study of spells could potentially tell him something of the nature, but the specifics would likely be beyond him. He deigned to try anyway. "By your leave, Mister Diviri, I would channel an incantation to better discern the mysteries of dispersing magics." Dalton knew what it was like to be particular - he didn't want to go breaking their rules again.
He looks over the scrap of paper left, agreeing with the Dwarf's assessment. Dalton came to his conclusion from study, but it was likely Toramin had some of the same characteristic differences by his own acclimation to the Common script. "Perhaps our Drow friend left a message here. Maybe for us - maybe not. An alchemist should have a glance at this for invisible inks and the like." There's a lot of value in some paper, Dalton thought. His spellbook was proof of it.
As they examined the vault Lindale leaned against one wall with his arms crossed. Just a note, perhaps left for whoever the bandits worked for. Finding that out was what they needed to do. There was one person that might know, though he had escaped. Perhaps he could find out something. "If questioning the captured bank robbers is planned, I would request to be there."
Geoffrey nods at Dalton's words. "I'll have it brought to the lab in the castle at once. And yes, under these circumstances you are allowed to use magic."
As Dalton looks around the room for any sort of magic, the slip of paper draws his attention. After a few moments he realizes whoever is holding this slip of paper is a focus for the area to be scryed upon.
Geoffrey looks at Lindale, his eyes flickering over to Toramin for just a moment. "I think that's reasonable. There's still some paperwork to be done so we will send a messenger to you when the process is about to begin."
”I ask your pardon for my staring,” Rilka says to Toramin. She peers closely at his wounds, her brow drawn in concentration as she leans in to inspect them.”I’ve read of dwarves with your condition. Do you feel less pain as well? Does food taste as pleasurable? Do you need special nutrition? Do you suffer from constipation? Can you withstand temperature extremes better? Good linguistic insight by the way concerning the note.”
She finishes making observations and any answers that Toramin provides. ”Quite a mystery indeed Heff. But it’s definitely time to relax and let the First Guard do their duty.”
Toramin is slightly agog at Rilka's invasive questioning. "Uhh. . . everything is in good working order."
Eager to be away from the rude, little woman, Toramin says "Please excuse me. There is something I forgot to ask Sir Geoffrey."
"Sir, how is our young noble friend? Have you heard more of him?"
Dalton realizes the voyeur scrying on them was quite clever. To fool us into thinking the note actually had a hidden message when something else was hidden entirely. Though it didn't rule out a message being on it, Dalton was developing a sort of ... admiration for their quarry.
"I'm sure our commander will be happy to answer that when there's more time and comfort. I sense nothing dangerous about, but just in case, I'd feel much safer out of the crime scene." Dalton did his best to skirt an actual lie around Diviri - he imagined the man's temper was short for such deceptions, even if they were well-intended.
"Sirs, if that page is yet available, finding a secret message on that note could keep the trail hot. Perhaps there's a laboratory between here and the castle that would serve a quicker lens into this murky mystery?" Though secondary, the transmuter also figures it was probably best if the viewer not have a guided tour into the castle, past its security, and around its valuable features.
Diviri gives you a hard stare. "Any evidence being examined is going to be done so officially and by the hands of a man certified to do so. ."
"As you wish. Let us get a move on then! I could use a bite on the way." Dalton walks out of the room and stands by the entrance, waiting for the others to decide on a course of action.