[Cards] Glass Carver (Patreon)

The Great Glass vault of Noloss was a treasure. Suspended in the center of a colossal granite vault, it was built from fifteen layers of hardened, impenetrable glass, each with a wholly unique and equally unbreakable mechanism to keep it permanently secured. That the internal workings were visible was, in fact, part of its pride: though each piece could be seen through the walls, none who had tried could easily puzzle out the solutions. What served it best was that it, in fact, had no magic: while magic had gone into its construction, its resilience was wholly mundane and, through that, exceptional. The enchantment on the room itself, however, was a notable one: were any pane of glass inside to break, the entire space would flood with an intense, destructive acid. The glass and its contents would be unharmed, but anyone outside... it wouldn't do to think about. This was alongside a number of wards that denied instant transportation in or out of the area, as well as a few other traditional tricks to a would-be thief's bane. All this to preserve a weapon once said to have brought about the death of a god, a dagger forged from the heart of a dead world.

And so, when the keeper of the vault began his usual rounds, content in the knowledge that everything would be in its place, he was rather shocked to see, through the perfect clarity of the glass, an almost-empty pedestal.

It took hours before each lock was disengaged safely, and once that task was finished the curators of the vault stood, aghast, at the note it contained.

Esteemed keepers of this vault,

Salutations! If you are reading this, you've doubtless seen my handiwork. I wish you no ill-will, but have simply tested my mind and mettle against yours, to the only end to which that would lead. By now, you must be wondering what purpose I would put an artifact such as this to, but I assure you there is no cause for alarm. I, too, am a great lover of the preservation of history and couldn't stand to see such a fine example of craftsmanship waste away without its original use. So, for now, it is safe in my hands, and I wish you best of luck in the aftermath.

None but my own,

—The Ravenheart

The curators were speechless. The Ravenheart was known to be audacious, but... there was no way into the vault. It was untouchable, and yet....

A few miles away, in an expensive inn, Baronet Alistair Rook twirled two daggers in his hands. One had a unique curve, its edge catching the light in a way that seemed almost crystalline. The other was seemingly just darkened steel, unostentatious but finely made. And he smiled. He knew his reputation would only grow from here, both from the vault, and from this.