The lot of you have been summoned at this ungodly hour (approx. 6 am, 15-30 minutes before sunrise) to the work chambers of Inquisitor DuBaeli. Plain wooden doors guarded by the arching white marble pillars mark the entrance to his overly plain and sparsely furnished office. The room is dominated by a huge wooden desk of stained cherry. Behind the desk sits an old bald man, leathery skin hanging from high cheekbones. Bright brown eyes sweep you all in at a glance, then return to a half-rolled scroll of paper. After the last of you have entered in the office he waves his hand sharply.
"Shut the door."
The heavy wooden door groans under its own weight as it slides closed. The only furniture on your side of the desk is two small uncomfortable looking wooden chairs meant for young scribes and errand boys. Both are currently empty. DuBaeli continues to read for a few moments, letting the silence stretch. He then sets the scroll down and taps the paper with the back of his hand.
"Do you know what is written on this scroll? Of course you do not, allow me to enlighten you. A young man, a trainee in the knighthood of the Silver Flame has chosen to take his leave of the church abruptly." He stands smoothly, his agility belying his age. "Not unusual in any regard, we have quite a few who are not able to stomach the training given them, no spine at all." DuBaeli begins to pace, glancing from one of you to the next. "No, that is not a problem, however, in taking his leave, this young man overpowered one of the scholar's guild carrying a minor item that holds particular value to the church. This item is held in a small box of iron and gilded silver guarded with holy seals and wards. The ward of the knighthood has placed a small reward for the return of the boy and a smaller reward for the return of the item." DuBaeli's brows knit together in a clear expression of contempt. "He has failed most miserably to understand the weight of this situation." DuBaeli stops suddenly and fixes you with an iron gaze. "The boy's name is Harold Makrenii, and you will find the item he took and you shall do so before some footpad turns it in for a paltry reward. I do not care particularly one way or the other what happens to Makrenii." DuBaeli snaps up the scroll, winds it, ties it, and offers it to Alistair. "If you are, for any reason, unable to return with the item, find as much information as is possible regarding where the item has gone." He fixes Alistair with a glare. "This is an embarrassment to the church, and thus an embarrassment to me, and to you. If you can not find this box, it had better be a very good reason." He breaks the glare, sweeps you all once more with a glance and seems to be content with whatever it is he sees. "If you do not have any questions, you are dismissed."
Glancing over the scroll you have a description of Harold Makrenii as well as his lodgings, friends in the church, supervisors, and previous notes about his performance (most note a poor performance). The scholar's account of the incident where Makrenii stole the box, as well as a detailed description of the outside of the box. The box itself is sealed shut and can not easily be opened. Makrenii left the church the night before today, and has no family nearby. Wrapped in the scroll is a small sprig of oak wrapped in wrinkled paper, with the words 'Use at your discretion' penned in a practiced hand. The sprig is easily identifiable by any of you scholarly types as one of the church's wands of cure light wounds.