With the Sand Serpent and his henchmen safely locked up, our hereos decides to use the remainder of the night to catch up on their sleep.
They end up using much of the following day for this as well and its afternoon when they all join up for a hearty breakfeast, an order met with sniggering from the staff at the inn.
With their bellies full they head for the home of the Sand Serpent. They left it under guard and a small feeling of relief flows through Bragol when he finds it undisturbed.
They set to with the time consuming task of searching the building from top to bottom. While ransacking the lavish, private abode of Amril, the astute Feredir uncovers a lockbox. The box is hidden in the large bed, but as his hands reach down, ready to jimmy the lock open his eyes fall on a small hole, just under the keyhole. Upon closer inspection he is able to identify it as an angmarian neelde trap.
Unfortunately neither Feredir, nor Bragol is able to disable the lock. The the nimble Jack Fleetwood out of town, they wisely leave the lockbox locked and calls for a locksmith. The memory of being pricked by a poisoned pin and the good fortune in surviving is stil fresh in Bragols memory.
Focusing their attention on the only other locked door they find the guestroom. Here a chest with a false bottom is found, and it 35 pieces of gold. Nothing else of any interest is found.
They proceed to the tower, finding a large workspace. Someone has been living here, and modestly so. A cot, a blanket and no frills.
Feredir immediately recognise Crebain droppins on the windowstill…
There is a small writing desk towards one side of the wall. Over towards a windows stands small telescope. Having desired one for a long time, Salabon moves closer. His eyes however is not drawn towards the telescope, but rather a small crystal on a pedestal besides the lookingglass.
This is lost on Bragol and Feredir. Their attention lies fully with the papers they have found. Ledgers, accounts, books and reports. It’s not only a who’s who of the city, but a list over who can be bought, who can be blackmailed, in short people the enemy can use to furhter his cause.
Salabons hands close around the crystal, picking it up he moves over to Feredir. He gives him the crystal, asking if he can figure out what it is.
As soon as Feredirs hands clasps the item, his mind is filled with visions of its past. He can feel the shard in his mind, information pulsing from it and through him. He is lost in time and space for a while, oblivious to the outside world. Bragol realises that something is wrong, and his own experience with the dark book comes to mind. He throws a cloth over it, but it is pointless. Feredir is back to normal, he gasps and begins to talk in a low voice.
“It’s not an evil item, the Sand Serpent has not poisned its power. It appears that it will greatly improve magical spells, making them last longer for instance…” He pockets the items and their attention is drawn to another oddity.
A brick in the wall looks loose. Salabond removes it and a box can be seen. Opening it, it is immediately clear what it contains. Messages, meant to be carried by crebain.
Unfotunately they are written in black speech, a language they cannot read. But wait, isn’t there something odd with the way Salabon studies the notes? The way his eyes move, his face reacts…its almost like he is able to understand what the texts says. Bragol’s suspicions becomes stronger, something is not right here…Confronting him, Salabon gives a reasonable explanation: He recognise the word Bree, and so they do.
Back at Patrick they give their report. As long as the messages are not translated, it will not be enough evidence to have the Sand Serpent convicted.
He has other news though, and with great words he declares that he is prepared to make them the rulers of Minas Berethiel, with all the rights and responsibilies that entails.
As Feredir and Bragol is busy thanking and at the same time declining the great honour, Salabon breaks in. On the table in front of them he puts down several pages. Pages containing translations of all the notes. All eyes fall upon him and the room goes deathly quite…