“The difference between a mask and one’s face is the amount of time worn. The longer the mask is worn, the more likely it is to feel like the face, instead of just a mask. It can become confusing as to which is real and only a mask. There exists a school out there. A school in which people learn to wear the persona of others as a mask. A school in which the art of it all, is to become someone other than themselves. They lay, waiting, slowly pushing their agenda on the world.” Findahl’s father spoke the words methodically behind vacant eyes.
“Does that school really exist?” Young Findahl asked, his curiosity peaked. His father nodded still looking through Findahl.
“That’s what the stories say. They say that this school of mysterious people exists. There are rumors that the land is shaped the way it is because of this school. I don’t know how much stock I put into that, but the rumors spread like wildfire.”
“If the rumors are just that, why should we believe them? Shouldn’t we question their validity?” The young boy’s brain was hard at work as he asked his father about this mysterious school. His father stood and patted his son’s head, revealing scars across his massive forearms.
“It’s good that you question things, but know who you are asking questions of. Not all are as kind as me, son.”
“There isn’t much to do about the current circumstances.” The old man sat at his modest desk, in his modest office. He was looking over the paper work for the newly incarcerated.
“I understand,” The half elf sat across from him in his guard’s uniform. “It’s just Renwah appears to be a victim of the wrong place and wrong time kind of thing.” The old man scoffed as the guard spoke.
“He attacked some adventurers with Craig. Craig and his stooges, Renwah included, attacked THREE adventurers. I’d say that’s not something Oxbane, Eurie, or Orinthal would tolerate. Wouldn’t you say Tjuringa?” Tjuringa looked to the ground his ears beaming a bright red.
“Then can we please move on?” The Justicar sighed as he spoke. “I am not getting any younger and there are matters I actually need to attend to. While I do enjoy these talks, these meetings don’t do that much for us I’d say. The Lady gets what she wants though...” The Justicar shuffled his pages looking for the next one.
“Well, I’d like to keep talking about Renwah. There is more to it.” The Justicar stopped moving papers and without moving his head looked at Tjuringa. Tjuringa could feel the irritation in his stare.
“I thought we had decided to move pass this.”
“Respectfully sir, I had not agreed to that. If you will just listen for a moment I think there could be something to this.” The guard practically wringed his hands dry of feeling as he nervously waited.
“Tjuringa… if you insist.” He said with a heavy sigh. He set down the papers and gave the guard his full attention. Tjuringa’s blue eyes were darting to and from the Justicar’s gaze as he began to speak.
“It’s just that Renwah had some interesting things to say about a key and a vault. He said that he knows where a key is that leads to a secret vault under the city. He promised that for his freedom he would show us where the vault is and give us the key.” Tjuringa must have spat the words out because the Justicar’s face was painted in a mixture of confusion and skepticism.
“Did he tell you what was in this vault by chance?” The old man said frowning. The guard could feel the mounting pressure of the doubt the Justicar possessed.
“Well, no. He did say it was a relic of Oxbane’s history. I was thinking it could be more information on Torrential Forgery. While our weapons are already made using that concept, what if there is more to it? Yarg would jump at the opportunity for more information.” He spoke confidently in his assumptions.
“I bet our blacksmith Mr. Renhand would love new information. I’d also like a giant pile of gold and all the crime in the city to be gone.” The Justicar sighed. “I’ll tell you what Tjuringa. You have him tell you where the vault is. You go explore it with another guard, off duty of course. If it pans out we will look further into it. If what he says is true, he could be looking at early release or being released immediately on time served. Does that sit well with you?” The guard on the opposite end nodded. “I trust you and your judgement. If he is lying, he will be served his justice like anyone else.” The Justicar stopped speaking, moving on to the next page.
“Tjuringa, is it cold in here to you?” The guard looked puzzled by the question but gave a simple shrug. “I must be getting older, these old bones have been freezing lately. Could you start a fire please?” The guard smiled graciously and walked over to the hearth. He lumped in wood and started the flame.
“Let’s move on to the next one then. I really appreciate you trusting me Justicar.”
“Think nothing of it. Let’s move on.” He said resting his hands on the next page. “What is going on with these adventurers and bringing us people? A gnome now?” The two shared a laugh and continued through their list.