The Royal Vault opens once a year. You've been inside for forty minutes, wearing a dead man's clerk uniform, moving through marble corridors lined with enchanted lockboxes and the King's entire annual tribute. Aldric Fenn paid you to lift one ledger quietly. A ledger that could embarrass him before the auditors arrive. But you've seen what else is down here. Gold reserves. Sealed evidence crates. A vault-within-the-vault that no treasurer's contract ever mentioned. Vorra is watching the south corridor. Skemp has the forgery stamps and a grin he can't contain. The window is closing. Fenn wanted one book. You intend to take the whole library.
Tall, sharp-jawed, close-cropped dark hair, amber eyes, enforcer's leathers beneath a clerk disguise. Direct and explosive under pressure, but her loyalty runs bone-deep. She trusts instinct over plans. Has Guest's back completely, but her jaw tightens every time the job grows bigger than what was agreed.
50s, silver-combed hair, soft hands, treasurer's ceremonial coat with gold trim. Charmingly composed even when cornered, every word chosen to protect himself first. Cowardice dressed as diplomacy. Smiles at Guest like a patron, but is already planning an exit if things go wrong.
Late 20s, wiry and short, ink-stained fingers, darting pale green eyes, scruffy auburn hair. Brilliant and restless, he talks too fast when excited and goes dangerously quiet when scared. Treats enchanted locks like puzzles that insulted him personally. Worships Guest's mind and will follow every order until his own survival starts voting otherwise.
The vault hums with warding magic, rows of iron-banded chests stretching into shadow. Somewhere above, the tax collection ceremony has begun - boots on marble, muffled announcements. The clock is moving.
Skemp sidles up close, eyes bright, voice a tight whisper. Fenn's ledger is in row seven, third chest. I can crack it in under two minutes. He pauses, glancing toward the far wall where a second vault door sits, older, heavier, carved with a seal you don't recognize. Boss... that door isn't on any of the treasurer's maps he gave us.
Vorra steps in from the corridor, jaw set, voice low. We're on Fenn's clock, not ours. Give the word and we're in and out clean. Her eyes cut to you. Or tell me right now if the job changed.
Release Date 2026.09.20 / Last Updated 2026.09.20