Hark: I've been having one of the worst writer's blocks ever... I knew very early on that I would write about this event, but I've always hated describing action (in the sense of fighting and other nasty stuff) and I've been putting it off for a week now. At first I tried the stream of consciousness-style, then something even stranger, and finally I decided to go with the traditional "gee, mister, I don't know any other style of writing"-style. Here is this horrible chapter, finally finished, the next one will have less violence and therefor it will also make more sense. I hope...



[Game to play while reading this chapter and the previous ones (if you seriously have nothing better to do. I know I don't.): try to find all the occasions where I misspell Theroieon's name (did I write it right this time? Damn.). Why in the name of all deities (hard to be an atheist or some such in these kinds of occasions) do I have to give my characters complicated 'fantasy' names? Next time I'll call my characters 'Bob' or 'Mark', that's so much easier.]



Chapter 37: Battle for power



The waves of explosion shook the roof. Shandara, who had been getting dressed in front of the mirror, screamed when dust started to fall on her. Entreri, who had just been leaving, rushed to her. Shandara looked stunned, like she couldn't believe what was happening. "Not again," she muttered, staring at her dust-covered image on the mirror. Entreri took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. "We have to go."



"Okay," Shandara said, drawing a deep breath and put on simple shoes that were laying on the floor."We have to go to my room first," Entreri said. He had left Charon's Claw in his room, behind many locks and traps, because he hadn't seen any reason to carry the weapon with him all the time. Now he wished he hadn't forgotten that the world was a dangerous place, no matter how good he felt.



A couple of guild's thieves passed them in the hallway, but otherwise the battle hadn't spread that far yet. They ran to Entreri's room and the assassin took Charon's Claw and the magical gauntlet, as well as a set of small darts. He could feel the sword's enthusiasm to taste blood again, need to feel the power of battle and the rush of blood. Entreri realized he had missed those things, those things he had lived for, for such a long time.



"Artemis?" Shandara said, and Entreri realized he had forgotten her completely when listening to the promises of blood and violence that the sword offered. "Are you alright?"



"Yes... Let's go," the assassin answered. They headed to the corridor and Entreri started to walk away from the sounds of battle. Shandara stopped, snatching hold of his arm. "We can't run away. There are people who need help. Mirjami, Isaldora..."



"You are getting out of this place," Entreri said. "I don't' care about the others, I..."



"I care," Shandara said. "I can't run away if they are in danger, and..." Entreri had slung one of his darts to her arm. "Sleeping potion," he said to shocked Shandara, who tried to fight over the tiredness that had taken over her. The assassin caught her when she fell forward and flung her to his shoulder, running away from the fight.



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Isaldora was trying to get some order into the escaping crowd of guild employees. She ordered every fighter and thief to fight the attackers, but many servants and prostitutes were trying to get out. She was feeling weak, weak and horrified, but she hid it the best she could.



"Isaldora!" Entreri rushed to her, carrying unconscious Shandara.



"What happened? Is she alright?" the elf asked.



"She's fine," Entreri said. "She wanted to rush to help people, but... I couldn't let her. Can you make sure she gets out of here?"



"Sure," Isaldora said, waving a young thief to her. "What are you going to do?" she asked when Entreri had ordered the young man to take good care of Shandara and take her out right away.



"I'm going to be stupid," the assassin answered and started to run back towards the smoky corridor he had came from. "Make sure she'll be fine."



Isaldora stared after Entreri for a moment, and then looked at the people running towards the exit. A young girl fell over and an older woman helped her up. Isaldora's hand went to her stomach, trying to feel the life growing inside her. Then she turned her eyes to the people still standing around unsure of what to do.



"Everybody with fighting skills, listen up! Half of you go to protect the people leaving, the rest to help the people defending our guild against the attackers!" she shouted, almost surprised of the determination in her own voice. The people were nodding to each other and started to follow her orders. She stood still for a moment and then joined the people leaving the guild. For the sake of her child.



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Erik got to his feet, his robe half burnt and torn. His amulets had one again protected him, but they hadn't protected the people around him. The whole room was scorched, the walls were in flames. He stared around him and kneeled down next to Mirjami. He knew he could never explain the sight to anyone. And that he would see it every night when he closed his eyes until the rest of his life.



There were sounds of battle and Erik could feel the strong magic used. He tried to forget the pain tormenting is entire body as he made his way out of the scorched room. No attackers had come there, they seemed certain that nobody could have survived the explosions.



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Theroieon was standing in his room, looking at the image that his mages had conjured, and he was starting to get nervous.



"Can't you show me a clearer image?" he asked on of the mages. The woman looked at him and shook her head. "There's smoke, which always makes seeing more difficult," she started to explain in a tired voice, "and there's also lots of magic around, with our portals and their defence spells. That affects the image."



"You would get a better look if you went there yourself," a younger mage noted, trying hard to disguise his disgust. He was aware that they were mercenaries and worked for the highest bidder, but there was something about Theroieon that made the young man hope they hadn't taken this job. Maybe it was because of his eyes that seemed, not insane, he pondered, but not normal either. He hadn't spoken to his companions about this, and he didn't know whether he could find the right words to describe his feeling. "He is dangerous," was the only clear thought in his mind, the thought he was more and more aware of every moment.



"I'll go there to rip the heart of Aran Linvail's chest when the battle is over," Theroieon answered coldly. "Before that, there is no need for me to go there. My men know what to do."



"Kill everyone," the woman mage noted and Theroieon started to laugh. "Of course. The best way to get rid of those rats is to kill them all."



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Jarlaxle had never ran so fast in his life. The dark elf ran past merchants selling their products, buyers admiring their latest purchases, nobles and their bodyguards, beggars. They all had heard the explosions, but then the word had spread; the thieves are fighting each other. Not many had paid any attention to the events after that; they weren't in the middle of the fighting and it did not concern them, so there was no need to bother.



The drow reached the entrance to the docks and was met with crowds of people running away from the area. There was fighting going on in the streets, he could see it, but probably most of the fighting took place inside the guild. Jarlaxle, moving quickly through the mass heading to the opposite direction, noticed that one of the secret doors leading to the guild had been opened and people were pouring out of it. Workers in the guild, prostitutes and cleaning ladies that were no threat to anybody. The attackers did not seem to think so, because two portals opened in front of the escaping group. Nobody had time to come out of the other one before a fireball flew into it. Jarlaxle noticed Isaldora, who had just flung the deadly spell, among the people. There were screams and then the portal closed. The attackers from the other portal, which was closer to the escaping people, didn't waste time wondering about the fate of their companions, but attacked the group right away. But they hadn't expected the fighters that emerged from the group to meet them, or the dark elf - Jarlaxle had abandoned the illusion spell that disguised his identity - attacking them from behind. They soon learned that not all rats were that easy to kill.



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"They call themselves fighters?" Chalmira shouted to Elenwyd over the noises of battle. The siblings had joined the largest fight in the main hall, and thus far they had found the fight to be easy. Theroieon's fighters had been told that the explosions would cause great panic among the people in the guild and then the fight would be easy. They hadn't expected much opposition and now that they met it, they didn't know how to react.



"Fighters-in-training!" Elenwyd shouted, spinning around and slashing a deep wound on the arm of an enemy mage. The portal he had helped to support collapsed.



"Pity they won't have the time to get any better," Chalmira shouted and send ten darts to approaching attackers. "Unless some nice necromancer wakes them up after this is over."



"I don't think so," Elenwyd grinned darkly, preparing a magic missile spell and sending it to hit a large fighter who had been trying to catch a young prostitute. "Not that one at least."



*********************************************



"This is not possible!" Theroieon shouted and kicked a chair across the room. The two mages exchanged a glance. They both shared the same thought; hopefully he goes there and gets killed.



"Those idiots," Theroieon muttered. "How can they be losing! That's impossible, I don't... What happened?" he asked when the image the mages had been reflecting disappeared.



"I'm not sure," the woman said, trying to catch her breath. The failing spell had sent waves of pain through her brain. "Someone noticed the spell and broke it. You cannot win this battle," she continued. "They are more powerful than you thought and we were informed. Our contract ends now."



"I kill you if..." Theroieon started to say, but the two mages released the transportation spells they had prepared for a situation such as this and disappeared. The mages in the guild houses followed the silent call and disappeared from the battles, to the surprise of Shadow thieves and shock of the attackers. Suddenly the portals had gone, except for two which were upheld by mages belonging to Theroieon's group, and with the portals disappeared the way of escaping for many of them.



Aran Linvail, covered in blood, mostly of other people's, looked at the fighters around him. "They have already lost. Kill them."



Tassa heard the commotion and dared to sneak out of her room. Servants were running around, grabbing everything they could and making their way out of the house. Tassa ran back to her room, collected all the jewels and small, precious ornaments she could carry, dressed into hooded cloak and joined the escaping servants. Theroieon had lost and she had only little time to get out of the city and start a new life somewhere where it was safe.



Theroieon had ordered his mages to close the last portals leading to the guild houses and help him. But before they managed to open a new portal leading outside the city, they in turn were surrounded by opening portals.



"It would be wise just to drop your weapons and do what we say," Erik said. Artemis Entreri stepped into the room from behind the gnome and raised Charon's Claw. "That is less painful in the long run," the assassin said and when Theroieon looked into his eyes, he knew that the man spoke the truth. No torture method conjured by the Shadow Thieves terrified Theroieon at that moment as much as the look in Entreri's eyes.



"I give up," he said, dropping his weapons. The assassin walked to him and hit him, knocking him unconscious. "That's a pity."



"I think Aran will let you have a turn with him," Erik said. "But you have to join a very long queue."



"I'm a patient man," the assassin said quietly. "And getting him into my hands is something worth waiting for."