A confession of sorts.

Like all bullies the thug quickly crumbled though the companions were left none the wiser for his confessions. He had shown himself to Wanda to be clever but now he seamed somewhat more slow witted. How much of his confessions were factual how much fancy was anyone’s guess.

The man knew nothing of a cursed treasure though after a recent raid against the Schatzenheimers a gem had been delivered to the boss who had retired to his chambers to work, though the man presumed it was as much to contemplate the gems worth. He had his usual guard duties here and had contented himself with sharpening his tools until disturbed by some of the gang’s soldiers. They reported unusual activity from the Huydermans and it would seam the Wastelanders are under attack.

He had knocked on the bosses door but had been told in a two word answered to, “sort it” in a muffled voice from behind the door. Always following orders he had set about organizing the defenses and hadn’t thought to check on the boss in the sealed room until he had in fact sorted it. Things had changed slightly, there had been screams and the Huyderman bodies had started to decompose rather too quickly for the liking of the sneaks he had sent out. There was also the smell and the lads were spooked, that’s when he had ordered the wall built. The six blood soaked strangers arrived having killed some of his best men, he had been hoping for answers.

Listening intently Kirsten surveyed the room, a well appointed room which lay in a deceptively tidy state. A tapestry depicting some classical hung on the back wall and to either side shelves staked with ledgers and well made chests rose from floor to ceiling. A desk made of some Lustrian hardwood filled the room, the ink wells and papers scattered across it's top showed that some disturbance had occurred. The rich Araby rug the desk stood upon was another matter, sprawled across the blood drenched weave lay the decapitated body.