“Going by what the professor said, if the book is used to its full potential we’ll be in far worse danger than being targeted by a dangerous criminal. The kind of danger that we cannot escape by just leaving the city.”  He said as his companions seemed to abandon the idea of going after Ellanise former boss. “Ryn still seems like the fastest option, but the majority spoke. Teryn, you mentioned knowing a nobleman that may help us although for a price?”

The goliath didn’t like the option that much. It was likely to depend on a prideful man who took personal offense with some action of the elf having any inkling of meeting their group. A man that would ask for something in return. Something that could take more time than they had. Still it was the best option remaining. They could ask around the docks for the man that escaped as the fight broke out but that would led them to clash with the underworld, maybe with Ryn but just through a longer road. It was almost enough to make Käinen miss his training with the Wardens. Hells, he almost missed his time as a criminal. At least it’s not with my former crew that we’re dealing. A small comfort, but a comfort all the same.

Rowan gives Käinen a curt nod, then turns to Teryn with a half-smile, rough hands drumming the desk like rain on a barn roof. “Sounds like that noble friend of yours might be the straightest furrow we’ve got,” he drawls. “Folk with silken pockets and sharper appetites might sniff round places like the Iris—whether for forbidden petals or gossip ripe for pluckin’. If he’s brushed those circles, we could hitch our wagon to his and roll in under the guise of honored guests—or humble retainers, if that keeps the eyes off us.”

He adjusts his belt, gaze steady on the elf. “So, Teryn, reckon your acquaintance’ll grant an audience?”

Teryn exhales softly, folding his arms as he considers. “Lord Saelric Vareth,” he says at last, his voice smooth but tinged with reluctance. “A wizard of some standing in Luminaar’s noble circles. Old family. Wealth, influence…a penchant for indulging in rarities—including the company found in places like the Gilded Iris, if whispers are true.” His silver eyes flick toward the others. “We...aren’t exactly on warm terms. Our last interaction ended with a...disagreement.” A faint, dry smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't elaborate. “Still, if anyone in the city has an open door to Veyla’s domain, it’s Saelric. He might entertain an audience, if only to gloat. But make no mistake—he will expect something in return.” He pauses, then adds, “And if we do go to him, I’d...rather not go alone.”

Ellanise reaches out and brushes her fingertips against Teryn's sleeve. Smiling, she assures him, "For good or evil, we're in this together. Now, tell us about this Lord. If we're going to find his favor, we're going to have to play to his weakness. Is it women? Animals? Gambling?"

Teryn's smile softens at Ellanise’s touch, and he inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Saelric’s weakness,” he says thoughtfully after a moment, voice dipping into something closer to amusement, “Well, he always did like a good wine...That and knowledge, like all wizards really. Particularly knowledge of the arcane, and secrets others would kill to keep hidden.”

"Wizards do tend to think highly of themselves," Ellanise says, thinking back.

"Do you think he would be interested in the tome's contents?" She quickly looks at the professor and Vasha. "Not that we'd give it to him, but perhaps he would be allowed to study it here under your scrutiny?"

"Oh yes, Saelric would be thrilled to get a glimpse into such a rare tome...If the professor thinks it would be alright, of course." Teryn is glad that Ellanise brought up the idea; he was thinking the same thing, but worried it might be too much to ask. "I would be happy to assist with keeping an eye on him as well."

“Going by what you say I wouldn’t be surprised if he stabbed us on the back to get the book for himself and if he doesn’t there’s no guarantee that he would return the book after getting access to it.”  The goliath spoke out of experience. He had seen plenty of betrayal on his darker days. “Our best bet would be to show our introduction letter from the professor and assure Vareth access to restricted knowledge in the faculty here. Which kind and to which degree would be your call.” He said looking at the professor. “It'll be an extra problem to you but I’m guessing it’ll be better than risking the tome.”

The decision ultimately rested on Alden’s shoulders. If he said no then the their plan would be reduced to going to the mansion and wait for the nobleman to name a price. Hopefully one that they could pay.

“If we go with my idea I suggest we don’t tell Vareth who or what we are seeking on the Iris. In fact, we shouldn’t even offer him knowledge upfront. Rather we should ask for his help, wait for his demands and haggle until we show the letter. We need to look reluctant so he convinces himself that he’s stepping on us, on Teryn specifically, and getting as much as he can from the deal.”

That was the way merchant did things, Käinen had seen it plenty of times.

“Teryn, I don’t want to pry on your past so I’ll ask this only once – do we need to know what happened between the two of you before going to him?”

Rowan rubs a thumb along the knotted grain of his belt, nodding like a farmer testing soil between his fingers. “Aye, lure a lord with a whiff o’ rare wisdom and he’ll follow the scent—but mark me, nobles harvest more than they sow. Show him the book’s worth too plainly and he’ll drive his plow clean through our field, claim the whole yield for himself.”

He glances between Teryn, Käinen, and Professor Marsh. “So we bait the hook with ‘restricted access,’ keep the tome itself tucked deep in the granary. Let Saelric taste the promise, not the full harvest. If we bargain tight and speak little of our true crop, we might ride his coat-tails into the Iris without opening our own barn doors. I’ll play the humble retainer, keep an eye on the scales—make sure he doesn’t tip ’em in his favor while our backs are turned.”

Teryn’s expression flickers for just a moment—an involuntary tightening around his eyes—before smoothing back into his usual calm. He folds his hands behind his back with measured grace and says quietly, “Saelric and I were...close, once. More than friends. But when he discovered the source of my magic—" he hesitates, just briefly, "—he considered it a betrayal. A warlock, you see, is not the sort of thing he takes kindly to.” He offers a faint, almost self-mocking smile. "He values purity of study. Arcane secrets drawn from pacts are, to him, tainted. Less earned, more borrowed." His gaze sharpens, steady and unflinching as he meets Käinen’s. “He may still carry resentment. But he also carries ambition. If we offer him even the faintest promise of rare knowledge, he’ll put aside old grudges—at least for a time.”

Professor Marsh listens quietly as you weigh your options, the tip of his quill hovering just above a blank page. When the conversation turns to offering Saelric access to the university, or worse, the tome itself, his hand stills, and he leans back in his chair with a deliberate exhale. “I must draw a firm line there,” he says, his voice gentle but unyielding. “The tome is not a text I’m willing to let just anyone leaf through, no matter how well-bred or magically inclined they may be. You’ve already seen how easily information from that tome can end up in the wrong hands.” He drums his fingers along the edge of his desk before nodding toward Käinen. “That said... offering him access to the university grounds, under supervision, may be viable. The archives are vast, and there’s plenty there to entice a wizard with scholarly ambitions. If you present it carefully, as a limited and prestigious opportunity, it might be enough to pique his interest.”

At that, Vasha let's out a soft sigh. She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Oh, he’ll still want something. People like that always do. A favor here, a debt there, it’s practically currency in noble circles.” She says as she shrugs.

Professor Marsh sighs and straightens a stack of parchment absently. “If you’re going to dangle access, make sure it’s on your terms. I can prepare a writ authorizing limited entry, but if he pushes further, well, that’s a game of politics I leave to you.”

He more than half expected Teryn to say it wasn’t necessary for them to know more about his past with the nobleman. Instead the elf, much like Ellanise, was considerably open regarding his history. It was strange for the goliath. He was used to criminals and monks, folk that either needed to hide their background or decided to leave it behind entirely. Maybe I’m the strange one, he could not help but ponder though he did share something about himself the day before.

“That should be enough to get us entrance into the Iris.” Käinen said not quite understanding what Teryn spoke about power. To him magic was magic and it was the use, not the origin that mattered. In the end he decided to make no comments on the matter. His expertise lied on grappling people and hiding. On the back of his mind he could not help but be relieved the connection between wizard and warlock didn’t involve a family tragedy. That would turn the situation into a dead end, besides the last thing he wanted was to force a parent to remember the loss of his child.  “I’ll be on retainer duty with Rowan. I know how negotiations work, but I’m not much good making them. Something about being too direct.”

And so he waited, ready to follow if the group wanted to move.

Ellanise stands a little ways away from the others, her legs crossed at the ankles, her fingers playing with the end of her braid as she considers everything being said. Finally, she takes a breath and looks around the room. "Well, I suppose it's up to you, Teryn. Are you willing for us to pull at this thread? It's most likely going to be uncomfortable for you. We can say we're on Academy business — procuring a tome. We can promise payment in the form of coin. Undoubtedly, he will want something more than that. At that point, we can reluctantly offer knowledge."

Teryn meets Ellanise’s gaze, the silver of his eyes catching the light just so. “It will be uncomfortable,” he admits, voice quiet but sure. “But I’ve endured worse than discomfort for far less worthy causes.” He straightens slightly, his usual calm laced with a quiet resolve. “Let’s pull the thread. We go to him on official business, and if coin isn’t enough, we trade in what Saelric values most: information. I’ll handle whatever comes after.”

Rowan shifts his weight, thumbs hooked on his belt, and gives a slow nod. “Reckon the straight row’s the easiest to hoe,” he drawls. “We step up as academy hands on honest business, let the lord know the soil we’re tillin’ comes with Professor Marsh’s seal. Less chance of weeds sproutin’ from half‑truths, and no risk in Saelric being put off by a masquerade smelling like fresh‑turned dung.”

He glances to the professor, brow raised. “Question is—how heavy a purse can we sling over this plow? Nobles won’t barter for seed money alone if they think a richer harvest’s hid behind us. Best we know our offer before we hitch the team and roll up his lane.”

Professor Marsh gives a long, considering nod, the faintest furrow forming between his brows as he listens to each of you speak. “It seems you’ve already grasped the stakes well enough,” he says at last. “And you’re right, coin may not be enough, but knowledge always leaves a stronger impression. Particularly with someone like Vareth.” He moves behind his desk and rummages through a cluttered drawer before withdrawing a thick envelope sealed with the sigil of the academy and his personal seal affixed in wax. “This,” he says, placing it down, “will grant you formal standing as agents of the academy. Temporary, of course, but official enough to make your presence respectable. Present it to Vareth, should he require it.”

“To answer your question, Rowan,” he continues, “I can offer a purse of a hundred gold to sweeten your visit. Less a bribe, more a gesture of goodwill. If he’s as sharp as I expect, he’ll take it for what it is: an invitation to bargain. Which, I imagine, is where your combined charm, subtlety, and resilience will be tested. Just remember, he may dislike Teryn, but he’ll respect results. If he sees use in helping you, he’ll make a deal.”

He lifts the envelope, offering it toward Teryn. “You don’t have to do this. But if you’re ready, it sounds like your next destination lies with House Vareth.”

Teryn steps forward smoothly, his expression composed even as a flicker of tension passes through his shoulders. He takes the envelope from Professor Marsh’s hand with a polite nod, his fingers lingering briefly on the seal as if weighing the significance of the moment. “Thank you, Professor,” he says quietly. “I’m ready.” His silver eyes lift to meet the gazes of the others, a faint but determined smile touching his lips. He straightens his robe, sliding the envelope safely inside. “Let’s go see what price Saelric wants for opening the door to the Iris.”

Ellanise frowns slightly as she observes Teryn's clear discomfort. She can understand. If it had been the group's decision to approach Ryn, she would have been in the same boat.

She runs a hand down her braid, the hair style her old leader had preferred.

The female elf steps up beside Teryn, putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to lend to him some of her strength. Looking at the others, she gives a curt nod. "Let's head out. Better to use the day than waste it."