Disclaimer: I own nothing, etc. Don't sue me!
A/N: It's been ages since I've played Thief so I don't remember exactly how this level goes so sorry, and this more The metal age than the dark project.... But you get it.
I need feedback!!! if you want to give me feedback.
He stepped out from the shadows.
Leaving his hiding place behind the shadowy figure silently moved, after two of the city watch had moved past.
I can't believe the bar was a setup!
The shadow seethed. As he walked along, ducking behind any fortifications that projected their black silhouettes in the long treacherous vistas Garrett tried to navigate through. He had to get to his house, find the gate keys, and escape.
He was disappointed to have let himself be fooled so easily.
Shit! The entire force must be on patrol tonight.... And looking for me.
He ducked behind the bridge to avoid detection. It wasn't enough, there was a sentinel behind him, walking slowly in his direction, sure these guards were stupid, but they had deadly aim.
Slowly, silently he dropped himself into the river below. Waiting for the noise to dissipate before he could move. He'd have to make the rest of the way now, through the sewers, unless he could find someway out of the murky waters.
Right, then left. Another right and he was in luck, there was another bridging point ahead and a ladder out of his self-imposed prison. The bridge was guarded. The gate beyond was a beacon of light, and hope, his house lay five minutes from there.
If I can just get my blackjack... carefully.
He removed the blunt instrument from its resting place, crept up behind the guard, raised his weapon and with all his might, smashed it down on the head of the loathsome burrick.
It fell unconscious to the ground; the two guards at the gate were immediately on their guard.
"What the hell was that? I know you're out there, you can't hide forever!"
One yelled, the other taunted, "Here kitty kitty kitty."
Garrett laid a mine, directly in the path of the first guard. A huge explosion illustrated the street, leaving the last guard standing in shock for a second, giving Garrett time to wield his sword and put an end to the ugly mess.
He dumped the bodies in the estuary and stealthily carried on, hoping no other guards would be alerted by the moaning of the only surviving victim, as he slowly drowned in the dank stream below.
Garrett hated fighting, much as these guards deserved everything they got, the violent approach was Neanderthal; lacked finesse.
There was a small glow in the distance. A yellow hue cast on the path in front showed Garrett his house was just ahead.