For the next few days, Era and Gabriel stayed at the Markshood Inn (at a discount, courtesy of Kobal) while Crisilla and Jarred traveled back to Sarmanna to procure the funds for the thieves guild.
“I feel bad,” Era admitted to Gabriel, “they’re fronting the bill for me, and it’s… I can’t believe how expensive that was.”
“Crisilla’s well-to-do,” Gabriel shrugged. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”
“But she has a wedding to save for, too!”
“If it’s that big of a deal, she just won’t pay for it. Trust me.”
“Alright,” he said hesitatingly. “I still feel bad about it, though.”
“We’re all here for you, Era,” Gabriel assured him. “It’s pretty important to have an identity, you know?”
Five days after they left, Crisilla and Jarred returned with a chest full of gold coins. Upon seeing it, Era and Gabriel’s jaws dropped and Kobal wrung his hands in glee.
“Good to see you came through on your end,” he happily told them, “and now I’ll live up to mine. We’ll spend today counting the gold and forming a plan, and you should have the information you need by tomorrow evening. Alright with you?”
“Really?” Era asked incredulously. “I’ll have it that soon?”
“Aye,” Kobal nodded. “We work fast. It’s part of being a thief: being quick without being caught.”
“The guy who brought us here in the first place must not have that quite down yet,” Gabriel said with a smirk.
Kobal stared at him disapprovingly. “Everyone makes mistakes,” he said, “and everyone has a learning period. Your little ‘arrest’ messed his confidence, and I lost me a potential master thief.” He tapped the chest of gold. “Hence why your fee was a wee bit higher than usual.”
“What? Asshole!” Gabriel snapped.
“Oh, you’ve got the stones to call me that, eh? Take a look in the mirror, you sorry excuse for a sorcerer!” Kobal mocked, turning away and strutting down the hall with a smirk on his face.
“Era?” Gabriel said, clenching his fists until they shook.
“Yes, Gabriel?”
“This had better fucking be worth it.”
The next day, at the onset of evening, a small group led by a state-sanctioned mage gained entry to the Academy.
One of the group, a man dressed in exotic silk robes, approached the headmaster’s office. The rest of the party, meanwhile, hid nearby. The exotic-looking man knocked heavily on the door.
“Coming, coming,” came a muffled, irritated voice from the other side of the doors. They opened wide to reveal a scowling Tarrgus, but that scowl disappeared instantly when he beheld his guest. “Ah, greetings, good sir,” he said with all the politeness he was capable of and finishing off with a heavy bow. “I am Tarrgus Riverdench, Assistant Headmaster of the Elsequaire Academy of the Magickal Sciences.”
“I am Sendreck Margdull, Mystic Ambassador to Perseguss,” the man said with a heavy accent, “and I have come for a tour of your Academy. We are wishing to expand our horizons in my homeland, perhaps setting up a Mage Academy of our own, you see.”
“Of course, of course,” Tarrgus replied, bowing himself out of the room. “Allow me to take you on a personal tour of our fine Academy here.”
“That would be most pleasing.”
As Tarrgus began reciting the history of the school, the nearby disguised thieves split into two groups. One group ran into the office; the other was off to question the teachers.
“Excuse me, sir, but I am looking for information on a man who has gone missing…”
“My sources say he was a graduate of this Academy…”
“How long have you been working at this school?”
“His Mage-Name was ‘Eravisté,’ does that ring a bell?”
“Have you found the files?”
“There’s too many, which were we after again?”
“Found it over here, you fools!”
“Right, of course…”
“You truly haven’t heard of him?”
“I understand, sir, forgive my interruption.”
“Of course, of course.”
“You remember everyone? And you’ve never heard of him?”
“No, it’s alright, good sir. Excuse us.”
“He must be almost done by now.”
“Do we have the right file?”
“We’ve questioned everyone. Something’s not right.”
“We’ve done all we can do.”
“Let’s just get to the meeting spot.”
“He’s coming back, look alive!”
Two-and-a-half hours later, the tour was over, the questions were asked, and the office was short a single file. The thieves headed triumphantly back to the inn.
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