As the others searched the room, Saeth stood alongside the slave, worried about a half-ignored statement from a moment before. “You said he was to invade an Elven village, no? That they held the keys to some item he desired?”
“He spoke of a black opal-something-or-other,” replied Ashira. “There was a visitor here a few days ago. A Ylari man that he referred to as The Rahib. I think Dentiata hired him to investigate the ruin and try to obtain the relic, if he could.”
“Did he mention any maps, or any other details of where this ruin was located?”
“I’m sorry, that’s all I know,” replied Ashira. She was starting to get more comfortable in the group’s presence, as it became apparent they were not likely to harm her.
Miklos scanned the room, his mental abacus calculating the cost of the glassware alone. He was lost in thought of how he was to safely transport this equipment back to Specularum when he noticed the faint glow eminating from the rags.
He absently filled in Ashiras comment, “Its Black Opal Eye.” Then he realised what he said. “Ahh it makes sense now. The ‘Eye’ is the relic Dentiata, and possibly Sevastian, was looking for in this region. Trusting that the name belies the description it would be logical to assume it’s an enchanted gemstone.”
Miklos crouched over the glowing rags and lifted them up. “What do we have here?”
The glowing item was a brown sack that appeared to be empty. However, when picked up, it became clear that it was actually not empty at all, although it weighed virtually nothing. Inside was a substantial amount of coinage and four gemstones.
Meanwhile, Feldard strode towards the “forbidden” area and drew back the blood-red curtains enough for him to see what was kept within that was considered so secretive to the mage. Nicolai followed him, uncertain as to what he would find behind he drew his sword.
The dwarf opened the curtains revealing… nothing?
Maruc had gravitated toward the shelves. He was reaching for the first bag when the swish of curtain made him spin around. That Dwarf, he thought, would be the death of him one day. His hand covered the handle of his flail and he tensed as Feldard revealed what was behind the curtain. His mind’s eye pictured Sevastian’s blood drenched worktable. He fervently hoped it wasn’t anything like that behind there. Especially one in use.
The cold, blood-red curtains were now parted to reveal nothing but a dark, empty area.