The basement itself was far from empty, even if it did lack its usual storing’s. No sacks of grain, nor barrels of ale lined its walls. In their place, dozens of wooden crates large and small covered its stone floors. A flickering lantern lit the space, and a small Jöln man scuttled about, jotting notes down in a ledger while he poked and prodded at a small pot that sat atop a table.

“What in the Pantheon…” Gardinal whispered. Was this some thief? Not sure how he intended to get out, without a window to be seen down here. Besides, Gardinal thought looking at the small man, he was a tad bit gangly to be a thief. The man’s arms were long and spindly, with legs too stubby to run or climb particularly well. He wore a loose leather jerkin over a surprisingly fine wool tunic that seemed perhaps a tad too big on him. Uniquely, the man wore eyeglasses clamped onto his nose as he worked.

It was an odd sight, those eyeglasses inventions. They were new to Terminia, and expensive, only really used by nobleman. Supposedly it helped people see better, though Gardinal had looked through a pair his brother had procured as an oddity once and only found them to make things blurrier. Either way, it was strange to see a Jöln wearing them. They were not a wealthy people, and such contraptions cost more than most homes in Southshore. There was much about this Jöln that didn’t add up.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Gardinal asked with a bark, stepping down the last of the stairs. The small man leapt nearly his own height into the air.

“Oh my!” He gasped, spinning and placing a hand on his chest. He swiped the contraption off his face and breathed heavily. “Oh, oh, you frightened me.” The man seemed more like he had a heart attack than a mild fright.

“I asked ya a question, thief.” Gardinal pushed on him.

“Th… thief?!” the man responded in disbelief. “I’m not a thief.” He shook his head. “I’m just… doing what I was hired for!” The man seemed more scared than outraged.

“What are you talking about?” Gardinal dug further.

“My services were procured by Tabitha.” He tried to explain.

“So you’re a spy then?” Gardinal stepped into the small man’s space, staring him down. “You can tell Tabitha we like our privacy, Jöln.” Gardinal was used to Fereni looking down at him, so he knew just how to make a Jöln uncomfortable.

“A what?” The Jöln gasped. “I just…” His eyes darted around the room, then looked at Gardinal’s clothes. “Oh no. You work for a nobleman, don’t you?”

Gardinal raised a brow at the little man, but he continued to ramble on.

“Look, she simply requested that I verify the authenticity of her artifacts. That’s all. I don’t know how she got these and…”

“What are you talking about?” Gardinal asked, frustrated with the man’s ramblings.

“He’s a scholar brother Gardinal, and a damn good one at that.” Tabitha answered his question, stepping down the stairs. Gardinal turned to look at her.

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“What’s going on here Tabitha?” Gardinal snapped. He was too tired, too sore, and too grumpy to put up with this right now. There had been no question in his voice when he had told her no servants in the house. That was a part of their deal, and deals were sacred to Khazimi. And did she just say he was a scholar? Gardinal looked the man up and down.

Jöln couldn’t be noblemen, no more than a Khazimi could, and he didn’t seem to be a priest of Renya. A magus perhaps? Gardinal couldn’t recall any other scholarly orders, and commoners didn’t particularly have the means to become scholars. But if he was a magus, what business did the Academy have working with a slumlord? Gardinal shook his head and set down his shield against the wall. He was going to stay here until he got an answer. Light as the shield may be, it was still cumbersome to carry on his back while standing around.

“Archibald here works for me.” Tabitha explained. “He’s not… traditionally trained but he knows his stuff.”

“You promised us this place was secure. No threats.” Gardinal hissed. She raised an eyebrow before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“You think…” She gasped for air as she laughed. “You think Archibald is a threat? Have you looked at him? Celeste could probably take the man in a fight.” She rubbed tears of laughter from her eyes as she tried to calm herself. Gardinal furrowed his brows at the woman, she was far too flippant with her use of the Prophetess’s name.

“I’m right here you know.” Archibald muttered, but neither Gardinal or Tabitha returned their attentions to him.

“Why here then? Why can’t he work someplace else?”

“This is where my… collection is.” She smiled that sinister grin of hers. “It’s the whole reason I even had this house free for you to lick your wounds in. Archibald here is just helping catalogue and appraise for me.”

At that, Gardinal looked around. Really taking in what was around him. Not just a pot, an ancient pot, covered in old Sherya motifs. Dozens of them actually. And statuettes, old ones depicting all the gods as Sherya, or smaller ones of First Fruits. Realization dawned on Gardinal.

“How did you get these Tabitha?” Gardinal growled. Whatever her answer was, he was sure not to like it. Each of the objects that filled this room, if he was correct, were ancient Sherya antiques. Many Pre-Abandonment, or close enough. Not the kind of furnishings a slumlord would have.

“Some careless nobles may have lost track of an item or two.” Tabitha shrugged, picking up a statuette of Oonya, goddess of storms, and studying it. “I am just making sure they are well taken care of.”

Gardinal rolled his eyes, he had been right, he didn’t like that answer.

“And you.” Gardinal said, turning back to Archibald. “Why would a magus be helping a slumlord with this? Has the Academy fallen so far?”

Archibald’s brow furrowed as he looked up at Gardinal. “A… magus? Oh no no, you seem to have gotten the wrong impression.” Archibald scratched the patchy stubble running down his chin and neck. “I’m a private scholar. A particularly expensive endeavour I tell you, but with no spark for arcanum this was the obvious choice for me.” He laughed. “Research, knowledge, it’s what us Jöln were made for after all!”

Gardinal shook his head. Tabitha seemed to be as bad as Her Radiance at drawing in odd strays. A private scholar? The man was mad.

“There’s no market for antiques in the city Tabitha, my brother learnt that lesson as a youth, so what trouble are you making with these?” Gardinal asked.

“So short sighted.” She clicked her tongue. “There’s Sherya living in the east far past the Shaded Lands. Don’t you think they want a piece of their history as well?” She grinned wide. “Honestly, I’m doing a service. Your Prophetess should reward me for preserving history.”

“Somehow the motives and profit dampen that for me, and I’m a Khazimi.”

“Now that you mentioned your brother, perhaps we could bring him down here sometime.” Tabitha was trying to worm her way back into his family. Gardinal would not have it.

“If you think I’m going to…” Gardinal was cut off by Archibald's mutterings.

“Read thy… creed? I think that’s what that says. Then something about Ethinia? Her words?” Archibald said from behind Gardinal. How had the man slunk over there so fast? And what was he saying?