Bloody Retrieval

I never expected the whim of circumstance to bless me in the triangulation of my would-be scammers. Nor that it would be without trouble and adversity. It was easy enough to search one of the thieves’ abandoned homes and discover the extent of their illicit operation via a forgotten schematic of their mountain hideout. If only we were quicker, for now they all lie dead, massacred by the undead; hollowly avenged by our spells and blades. The sole survivor, Dorian – one of the two who swindled me – fell victim to some variation of foul sorcery after refusing to relinquish a small lockbox. There exists no cause for which this loss of life is warranted. Especially not over some magical rock! Ki’tor and our new tag-along freelancer detective Jane certainly seem quite blasé over all this death. I understand why a Kang nobleman might not react to the death of dozens, hundreds, or thousands of extinguished futures – after all, unprovoked acts of aggression constitute their mandate’s raison d’être – but Jane makes me wonder. She looks youthful but has the habits and tone of a dismissive and aphoristic grandmother. My words have already been judged, my character thus established: naïve, inexperienced, arrogant. I hope she stays around – maybe she’ll learn something!
 
Do I trust the holy clergy of the Platinum Flame with this ensorcelled box? Never in a thousand years. But you can always count on self-interest, and I expect the abbot will want to follow up our discoveries. The ghoul blurted out the name Morbrand – maybe it means something to an erudite Scaelorian.
 
Nevertheless, we live and we continue. I have my armour back and my brother seems to be regaining his senses. Maybe. He did make a blood sacrifice without hesitating – now that’s an unelectable offense!