Garrett strode the wharves, his black cloak billowing in the chill wind that had sprung up. The light from the many taverns and alehouses glared out harshly onto the wooden boardwalk which formed the docks. All manner of ships were moored on the frigid waters, their hulls and sails black and creaking in the night.
It was three days since Garrett had first arrived at Donovan's door. In that time he had made his preparations. Galen had arrived at once after she had been summoned. Garrett had informed her of his plan to infiltrate the thieves' guild. Of course she was furious at being asked to do another task for something she was partly paying for. She was always furious. Donovan had managed to pacify her somehow. In any case she had agreed to the plan and gone along. Garrett had contacted his friend in the Moonshadow guild. Using him he had managed to find out a great deal about the storeroom complex. Garrett bought a map and had attempted to get the guild member to label and fill in as much as possible. The man had also divulged the location of the dockside entrance and how to spot it. When his service was done Garrett had paid him off, he left without complaint.
After that, Garrett had gone over the map with Galen for the next two nights without pause. They had not been pleasant sessions, with many a stinging remark being used on a regular basis. However, by the second night they had gained a mutual respect of each other. There were fewer insults being thrown around and more work getting done. In the end Garrett came to respect Galen's no nonsense approach towards everything, and she came to tolerate Garrett's aversion to confrontation.
The arranged night had come, and they had both set out for the docks on separate routes. The plan was that, Galen would bluff her way in as a buyer, and get to the room where the guild had most of their items on display. She would cause a commotion in a security station, which was designed to draw many of the guards to that location. Meanwhile, Garrett would be going in through the dockside entrance. He would swim inside and make his way to the area where the Vestrius was kept and link up with Galen. When they were both there, they would escape out through the front door into the alley.
So there Garrett was, walking down the docks to a place where he could reach the entrance easily. He wore his usual burgling attire. He was armed with his broadsword and bow. He also carried several specialized types of arrows in addition to thirty broadheads. He had a scouting orb and a flashbomb with him and three daggers. There was also his lockpick set, blackjack, his map, compass, and lastly he carried a rope and the special grappling hook he had bought. This fit near perfectly under his cloak, and he could move about as easily as if he carried nothing.
The night was cold and unfriendly; the cloak did little to shield Garrett from the biting cold. A drunk accosted Garrett near a stack of crates. "Givesee a poor man shhoomthin to take the shill offa the noight?" He said, his speech slurred. Garrett pushed him aside. "Out of my way drunkard, I have no time for this." The man backed off muttering darkly. Garrett took in everything around him as he walked. The men staring at him from the depths of an alley. The prostitute warming up to a sailor on watch. The dark shapes crossing the rooftops, thieves on the prowl.
He came to the spot. It looked not different than the other stretch of boardwalk he had already covered. But the Moonshadow contact had been very specific in his description of its location. Garrett recalled his words. "Its just outside the pub 'Klipman's Locker'. Fifteen paces to the right of pier 137. There's a queer rock formation just beneath it. It makes the water look higher than it is. You could fit a rowboat full of men right under there, though it don't look like there's room enough for a crate. The rocky outcrop beneath the pier is fake. It can be moved aside to reveal the tunnel leading right under the boardwalk."
There was Klipman's Locker. The sign swung loosely above the door. Garrett turned around and saw the number 137 painted on a sign attached to a post. He turned to the right and walked 15 paces. He looked down. There was the spot. It didn't look special in any way to Garrett's eyes. He waited until he was sure nobody was looking. Without a second thought he stepped off the pier.
The water was deathly cold. It soaked into his clothes and stung him with its touch. Garrett had secured his equipment tightly to himself before leaving, so none of it floated off. He surfaced his head. The cold night air took his breath away as he exhaled. He grabbed onto a post that anchored the boardwalk. Blinking the water out of his eyes he peered in under the quay. The man had been right, there was a large cavity under the docks. The rocks there slanted downwards as they met the pier. Garrett forced his legs to move and swam in under the docks to the rock wall beneath. He gripped the rock with slick hands and started to pull it. The rock shook and shifted but otherwise didn't change much. He swam over and tried another spot. His muscles were cramping up and the cold seeped into him. The rock moved again, but did not change much. He tried another spot. The rock slide sideways and revealed a dark opening. Garrett used what strength he had left to power his way inside. The tunnel was unlit and so Garrett found himself swimming alone and cold in the dark. He had no idea as to the width or height of the tunnel and so felt like a speck in the impenetrable wall of gloom that surrounded him. His strength was failing; the cold of the water was sapping his strength. Just when he felt he could swim no more and that he would die there in that tunnel, he came to the end.
He was in a dimly lit chamber. The walls were made of cold stone and there were torches in brackets set into them. The chamber was not overly big, but could accommodate a large amount of people. The water took up about half of the chamber and the rest was a rocky floor with several wooden docks built onto it. A number of rowboats were moored on the docks and the area was covered with crates and barrels. It was at the moment, devoid of people. Garrett swam weakly up to the docks and pulled himself up out of the water. There he lay, cold and shivering on the wooden docks. The water dripped slowly off of him and he breathed in gulps of slightly stale air. Finally when he felt his strength coming back he tried to stand. He did so shakily and stumbled over to a stack of crates. He looked around the dock area. There were three passages, which led off of the room. Garrett pulled open his leather scroll case and slid out his map. Luckily the case had protected it from the water. He unrolled it and lay it flat on the crate. Looking it over he checked his route.
From the docks, he had to go through the left most passage. There he took the third door on the right and went through a storage room, after that he would be in another passage and would need to go right until he reached the end. At the end there would be a common room for guild members. He needed to exit through a door on the left of that chamber. He would be in another hallway. From here, he would have to enter a door at the far end. These were the dormitories; he would have to exit through a door to the left. From there it was down another passage, through the kitchen, the mess hall, the main hall, the security station, and then he would be in the restricted area. Somewhere in there, the Vestrius would be kept.
He rolled up the map and replaced it in it's case. He started off down the passage, ever alert for the sound of footsteps or voices. He reached the third door and entered. The storage room was unlit and empty of people. Crates were stacked throughout the room. Garrett ghosted through and was about to exit at the other end, when the door opened almost in his face. He went with the door as it swung towards him and stood silent behind it. Five men entered the room, all holding torches. "You two grab that crate over there, and you guys can each grab a barrel. One man was directing the other four. They put their torches in brackets around the room and hefted up the things that the leader had indicated. All were wearing black leather jerkins and face masks. The guild emblem was evident on their shoulder pads. Each one was armed with a short sword.
Garrett crouched deep in the shadows behind the door and scrunched himself up into a ball. The men turned around and went out the door, carrying their burdens with them. The leader was last to leave; he took one final look around the room and then shut the door. Garrett waited until he was sure nobody was around. He stood up from the shadows and went to the door. Peering out, he looked both ways down the hall. There was nobody. He advanced out into the stone passage and took a right, keeping to the shadows created by the spotlights of the torches. As he approached the end of the corridor he could see a large amount of light and hear a lot of noise coming from up ahead. He reached the end and peered around the corner formed by a half-pillar holding up the archway entrance to the room.
The room was filled with men and women, drinking, and eating and talking. A roaring fire was in the stone fireplace at the far end of the room and there was a large amount of rugs covering the floor. Furniture was haphazardly strewn around the large room. A food table had been set up at one end. This was the common room. Garrett looked up and saw wooden rafters supporting the high ceiling. There was no way he could get through a room like this sneakily. He would have to dim the lights. Garrett pulled out his bow and three water arrows. These arrows were tipped with crystal heads, filled with water. He nocked all three arrows to his bow at once. Drawing the string back as far as he could, Garrett leaned around the corner, aimed, and released.
The arrows flew close above the heads of the people. All three went straight into the large fireplace. The crystal tips shattered on impact and doused the fire. Being the only source of illumination, the room went dark instantly. People started shouting and the room was thrown into chaos as they milled about. Garrett didn't waste the opportunity. Not wanting to simply run through lest he be discovered Garrett decided to take the high road. He yanked out his grappling hook and rope. Spinning it in a wide arc he let it fly up towards the ceiling. The hooks caught a rafter and held. Garrett ran into the room until the rope was hanging straight down above him and not sloped out into the passage. He began to climb as fast as he possibly could. The lights would soon be back on. He reached the top and pulled himself onto the rafters. He whispered "release" and the hooks came undone, he caught the grappling hook in his hands and hoisted the rope up to himself.
Not a moment to soon. Somebody had the sense to run and grab a torch from the hallway. He went to the fire and relit it. The lights were back and people were talking again. They began searching around the room for a sign of the culprit. When they found nothing, some shrugged and went back to talking, although there were many who did so with hands on swords, and wary eyes.
When Garrett was sure that nobody was looking up at him he stood and slid carefully across the rafters until he was directly above the passage he needed to exit out of. There, he stuck the hook into the wall high up and dropped the cord. He payed out the rope until it dangled just above the archway. Then he laid the extra rope over the hook so that it was shortened to the proper length. Grabbing onto it, Garrett slowly rappelled down the wall until he was at the end of the rope. There he dangled, just above the archway. At what he judged was the proper moment, he let go of the rope. He landed softly on the floor and shoulder rolled into the corridor. He waited, back pressed against the wall, breathing heavily. He peered around the corner, watching the scene. It appeared nobody had noticed him. Garrett looked up and whispered "release". The hook plummeted down and Garrett caught it deftly. He returned the rope and hook under his cloak and continued on down the passageway.
At the far end he exited through another door. The dormitories were dark. The only illumination was a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. The room was filled with beds, all stacked in levels of three to take advantage of the limited space and high ceiling. There were around forty guild members all slumbering in various bunks around the room. Garrett shut the door quietly and moved in amongst the beds, being careful not to make any noise as he passed each sleeping form. As he was moving between two sleeping thieves, his feet crunched over some glass from a broken wine bottle. One of them snorted and rolled over; he grabbed the hem of Garrett's cloak. The second slumped slightly off his bunk and in front of Garrett. Garrett cursed mentally and reached down. He pulled a dagger out and sliced off the section of cloak that the thief was holding. He rolled back into his bunk, clutching the piece of fabric against himself and sucking it. Garrett was about to step over the second thief, when he suddenly slipped far off of his bunk. Garrett reached down and caught him before he hit the floor. The man's eyes fluttered open for a second and he stared straight at Garrett… "Mmm…its to early for that Erin." He mumbled as his eyes closed again. Garrett slowly slid the man back onto his bunk. He found the correct exit and went through.
As he walked down the hallway, a door suddenly opened up ahead. Garrett calmly slid into the shadows, pulling his cloak over himself. A man exited and walked past him and down the hall. Garrett stood and continued on. He reached the entrance to the kitchen and went inside, ducking low as he did so. The room was clean enough and quite large. There were two long countertops running down the center of the room and more countertops around the walls of the room. Then there were then all the other things you would expect to find in a kitchen: utensils, vegetables, cutting boards, cold stores etc… There were two cooks washing dishes at the far end of the room. They were having an argument of some sort. Garrett crawled forward around the countertops so that he could hear snatches of it. "-Can't remember every little thing I do!" Shouted one of the cooks, furiously scrubbing a large pot. "Well you'd better start, because it could mean the difference between Fengil honoring me or hanging me!" The second cook bellowed. "Listen, it wasn't my fault you lost his favorite knife!" The first yelled back. "Wa- wasn't your fault? You're the one who used the blasted thing as a cutting knife! Where did you leave it?" The second spluttered incredulously. "I left it right there!" The first hollered, gesturing at the countertop behind him. Garrett ducked behind it as the second cook turned to look briefly. "Well it ain't there now! I was given the damn thing to clean it and you go and use it as a cutting knife!" The second roared. "Well maybe that will teach you not to leave things like that lying around!" The first replied heatedly.
Garrett reached into one of the cupboards and grabbed a bottle filled with some sort of substance he couldn't identify. He tossed it over the countertop rows. The bottle shattered on the floor in front of an open cupboard. The two cooks whirled around immediately and went over to the bottle. "Aw look what you did! You didn't place the bottles properly and now there's a mess! Well you can clean it up." The first cook said. "ME! You were the one who was arranging the cupboards today! You should clean it up!" As they continued to argue Garrett crawled forward and out the door at the far end.
The mess hall was dark and empty. Garrett moved quickly through the sets of tables and chairs and out the opposite door. Another corridor and another close encounter with a patrolling guard later, and Garrett was in the main hall. The room had a high ceiling. The floor was of black marble and so were the cylindrical pillars supporting the roof. There was a clerk's desk in one corner, which faced the main doors at the far end of the hall. Past the desk was another archway, which led into a different passageway. There were numerous statues and plants situated around the hall and several small doors leading off of it, like the one Garrett had come through. Torches set into brackets in the pillars, as well as a large wooden chandelier hanging from the ceiling lighted the room.
Two guild members patrolled up and down the center of the hall, their boots clicking against the polished marble. Two more stood guard at the archway beyond the clerk's desk. A clerk occupied the desk, writing on a piece of parchment, the sound of his quill seemed incredibly loud in the quiet that would otherwise permeate the hall.
Garrett crept up to the pillars and crouched behind one. A guard passed down the hall on the other side of the pillar. When he was well away, Garrett moved in a crouch over to the next pillar. In this way he made is way almost to the clerk's desk. As he stood behind the final pillar he drew out a noisemaker arrow. Nocking it to his bow he waited until the proper moment. He spun out from behind the pillar and let the arrow fly. As it did so, the arrow began to emit a high pitched whine as it flew. When it struck the stone wall across the hall the tip jarred violently, giving off a rattling racket, which went on long after the initial impact. Needless to say, the guards were immediately suspicious, drawing swords they advanced cautiously towards the opposite end of the hall. While they were searching Garrett slid under the front of counter that the clerk was behind. The man had stood up when he heard the noise and was now scanning the hall with his eyes. Garrett slipped past him and moved off through the archway. Perhaps I overestimated the skill of these men when I spoke with Donovan; this is almost to easy.
Garrett paused about halfway down the hall and pulled out his pocket watch. "Show time." He muttered something far off down the hall exploded. The passage shook and Garrett struggled to stand. As soon as it stopped there was a hiss of releasing pressure. "Right on time."
****
Galen strode the docks with an air of confident grace. He usual red attire had been replaced by a more functional set of clothes. She wore a slit-legged skirt of dark brown velvet and a long-sleeved shirt of black. Over this she wore a deep green cape with a shallow hood. Her legs were covered with thin black leggings, which actually kept the cold out marvelously, due to the fine Jonarian weave. At her side was a modest sized sling bag.
She made for the tavern in front of her. The sign "Three Mugs" was posted on the wall next to the door. The hand was crude and there was a picture of three mugs painted roughly below the words. The place was a two-story affair, with peeling paint and brightly lit windows, especially the main one next to the door. Galen opened the door and entered a world of smokey air and the scent of roasted meat and sweat. The place was hot, a large hearth the cause of that. Men sat at round tables or in booths, shouting loudly and laughing louder over platters of meat, potatoes and tall mugs of beer. Waitresses moved amongst the rowdy crowd, deftly avoiding pinches directed at their bottoms as they carried trays to and from the kitchen. Galen moved amongst the tables to the back of the bar. Men eyed her hungrily and some of the more rowdy ones whooped at the sight of her. She ignored them. A man reached out to grab her. Instantly she had a hand around his outstretched wrist. The man screamed in pain, Galen held on for a few moments and then let go of him. He collapsed to the floor sobbing and clutching his wrist in pain. His whole arm was covered in crystallized ice. The tavern went silent, all eyes were upon her face, and some a little lower than that. The man's friends stood and drew their weapons. "You filthy bitch!" One of them shouted. Galen just stared him down, rage evident in her eyes. He made to attack her, but before he could, the bartender snapped his fingers. Three men stood from nearby tables and moved in, all were armed. "There'll be no trouble here this night, take your grievances outside if you wish." One of them said quietly. The man and his friends looked undecided for a moment. Then looking down at the man's heavy sword, thought better of himself. With a dark curse he lowered his weapon. The whole gang of them made for the exit, two carrying their whimpering companion. The three bouncers returned to their seats and slowly the general talk started again until it was as if nothing had occurred.
Galen moved up to the bartender. "I'd like today's special." She said in a low voice. "I thought you'd be with them, ain't nobody else who could do that in here if they weren't with them." With a gesture to follow him, he moved off. She followed the man through the heat and steam of the kitchen and out a back door. As soon as she was out the door in the enclosed alley he yanked the door shut. Galen went to the end of the alley and stopped short of the wall. "Golden Rod." She said. The wall groaned and slid aside. A man was standing in a small room just behind the wall. He bowed as she stepped inside. "What can the Moonshadow do for its honored customer this night?" The man said with perfect eloquence. "I am a representative of Richard van Wyker, here to examine some of the guild's wares as per the invitation." Galen said, her tone authoritative. "May I see some proof of this claim?" the man replied. Galen reached into her bag and pulled the letter out, handing it to the man. His eyes flicked over the letter and when he was done, he brought the envelope up and smelled the wax seal. "This is an official guild correspondence, I can tell by the scent of the wax. However, are you aware madam that the letter reads that only sir Richard is permitted to enter?" the man said. "I am well aware of the terms of this epistle. However, my lord Richard wishes to inform you that he is unable to come personally as he has recently been injured." "Oh how terrible, how did this come about?" The man asked. "Something hit him on the head." She replied. "Well tell Lord Richard that we are sorry about his injury but I'm afraid we still are unable to allow you entry." "He also said to inform you that he is quite willing to pay double the asking price for any items you may have available, in return for letting his trusted representative in of course." The man raised an eyebrow, the only indication of his surprise. "One moment madam if you please." He grabbed an object of some sort off the desk; Galen couldn't see what it was. He began speaking into it, Galen couldn't make out what he was saying either. A few minutes later he put the item back on the desk and turned to Galen. "Darkblade Fengil Anerson has agreed to allow you entry on the condition that you are to have an escort as you view the items." "Done" Galen said. "Very well, follow me madam." The entrance shut behind her as she stepped inside and followed the man down a narrow flight of steps.
The stairs ended at a long narrow tunnel, which went on for quite a distance before it ended in a door. The man pulled the door open for Galen who nodded in thanks to him and strode into the main hall. He accompanied Galen down the rows of pillars to the clerk's desk. Galen's escort began having a conversation with the clerk over her visit. As she waited for them to finish, she thought back on the past few days. At first when Garrett had contacted her about the job she had been adamant about it. This was supposed to be his contract. Why was she getting involved? Granted, she had facilitated his infiltration the ball, but that was a special circumstance. They must have argued for hours in the parlor at Donovan's manor. Neither had been willing to give ground. Finally, Donovan had stepped in and given his infallible logic: "The faster we get this over and done with the faster we may each go our separate ways." Galen still seemed dissatisfied with this but had given up with arguing. As long as it didn't look like she had given in, it was fine. How she hated having that arrogant bastard around! But, he was the best in his trade, and Galen needed the best for something as big as this. The Vestrius was worth so much to so many; having to put up with Garrett was worth it. She would be the first to get it! Donovan was merely a means to an end. They shared wealth, resources, and intelligence in their quest for the Vestrius, yes. But Galen was not about to share the prize. When she had the power of the Vestrius in her grasp, Donovan would need to be eliminated. Garrett would be paid off, and she would be triumphant! The only reason she deigned to pay him, rather than try to kill him as well, was that it would be dangerous having someone like Garrett angry with her if she failed. Despite her extreme dislike of him, she respected the man's talent and skill. Besides, she would have enough dangers to worry about once she had the Vestrius.
The two men finished conversing and the doorman motioned for Galen to follow him down the hall past the clerk's desk. The stone hallway was nearly pitch dark, with torches spaced at distant intervals. At the end of the hall they came upon the security station.
The station was merely a large stone booth with windows. The booth took up one half of the room and the other half provided walking space for people to pass and proceed into the restricted section. There were seven guild members manning the station. Five were sitting around a table in the center of the booth playing at cards. The other two were sitting at an iron control station. The entire area was brightly lit by oil lamps. The lamps were covered and could only be turned on or off at the control station. A mechanical face was mounted above the glass windows of the booth; its view covered the whole area. It too could only be turned off from the control station. The only other piece of furniture in the booth was a weapons rack. The rack held five short swords, three bows, seven daggers, and two spears.
Galen knew all about this area from her sessions with Garrett. They had gone over it countless times. This area was where her distraction was to take place. Galen's guide stopped at the station and spoke with one of the guards through a metal grill. This was her chance. Galen reached into her slingbag and surreptitiously pulled out a specially designed mine, which she had altered for her purpose. Galen placed the device on the stone wall, just below the glass. It stuck there as she drew her hand away. At the same time she checked her pocket watch. Galen magically altered the mine; it had taken quite a bit of energy to imbue it with the correct properties for their purpose. Three seconds after she stuck the mine to the wall it began to shimmer and fade. Then, it disappeared completely. It was still there, but invisible to the human eye.
The doorman had finished speaking with the guard and again motioned for her to follow him. They passed the station and went through another hallway. At the end of this was the restricted section. The room was carpeted with deep red, and lit by candelabra's around the room. Various artifacts were placed in glass cases on pedestals, or locked away in iron safes. There were more mechanical faces here as well, their tireless gaze panning the room. The restricted section was a series of rooms similar to this one, some had the extra vault or guard, but all were fairly congruent. From the guild contact, Garrett and Galen had learned that the Vestrius was held two rooms up from the one Galen currently stood in. He said it was contained in a vault on the back wall, which could only be opened if one had the proper key and the proper combination. Luckily Garrett had gotten a wax imprint of the key from the guild contact and had gotten a copy made. It had cost them a small fortune to persuade him to get them one, since it meant stealing from Darkblade Fengil, a very quick way to die.
The vault had a mechanical face directed at it, as well as two guards stationed near it. Galen made a show of perusing the items on display, frequently checking her watch. The guild member who was with her waited patiently in silence. At length, she made her way to the room where the vault was. She examined some of the other items here and asked the odd question about them. As she was examining a particularly magnificent jeweled sword next to the vault door she carried out the next part of the plan.
With her back to the guide, standing behind her and her body beyond the guards' peripheral vision she reached into her slingbag, her cape masking her hands from view. Galen pulled out another device. It was a squat metal box, about the size of her palm. On its face was a dial, like the kind on combination locks. Galen placed the device against the vault's combination mechanism, which was directly to her left. The dial on the apparatus began to spin silently. Galen continued to examine the sword while the device spun. The guards and her guide were all intent on watching her that they didn't even glance at the vault. Even if they had, the device was small and in the shadows. They had timed this to the second; Galen kept glancing at her watch. It was nearly time…
The device suddenly stopped spinning and clacked. The guards half turned to look at the vault.
Galen triggered the mine with her magic.
The entire area shook as the mine exploded at the security station. Galen fell off balance and smacked her head on the glass sword case. She toppled onto her back and lay unconscious there. The two guards also fell to their knees and the doorman managed to grab hold on something. Alarms went off throughout the complex. The two guards stood as the shaking stopped. "What in the hell was that!" "I don't know! It came from the security station!" They made to leave. "What about her?" The guide said. "Forget her, we'll come back later, she isn't going anywhere." The guide shrugged and followed them out.
****
Garrett sprinted up the passageway, alarms ringing all around him. He came upon the devastation at the security station. There was a gaping hole in the stone booth, which was choked with rubble. The air was thick with smoke that filled the room. Through the mist Garrett could just make out the bodies of the guards, buried under the rubble. The glass had been shattered and there was blood smeared down the back wall. The mechanical face was broken, its parts strewn about the room. Garrett did waste any time and dashed onwards the, alarms urging him to hurry. He ran down the passage past the station. About halfway he heard feet rushing down the hallway towards him. In the darkness of the passage, he had no trouble keeping out of sight. A column of men rushed past him, intent on reaching the security station. They had soon passed and Garrett took off once again at a run.
He got to the restricted section and wasted no time avoiding the mechanical faces. He dashed through the rooms and into the room where the vault was. He stopped as he saw Galen lying prone on the floor. As he approached she immediately stood up. "The key, quickly!" she shouted over the alarm "Why were you lying on the ground? Garrett asked as he pulled the key from his cloak. "All part of the act, now hurry up!" Galen replied as she yanked the device off the vault. "It is cracked, correct?" Garrett said as he jammed the key into the lock and twisted. "Of course. " She replied haughtily. At that they heard the key click in the lock. The vault mechanism cycled and the heavy metal door groaned open. The inside was completely empty, except for a single pedestal in the center. There, on a satin cushion, was the 2nd half of the Vestrius. It was similar to the first half, except in place of a headpiece there was a notch at the top. A notch that Garrett bet would fit perfectly into the bottom of the first piece. It also had no band of silver around it's center.
Galen made to grab for it but Garrett snatched it up first. Galen turned to him, anger flaring up in her eyes. "Give it too me!" She shouted. "I will be keeping both pieces until my payment has been effected. " Garrett said coolly. "You will do no such thing! Give it to me you bastard!" Galen raged. She extended her fingertips; flame arced out and melted the pedestal next to Garrett. He didn't flinch. "I know where the first piece is hidden, you won't find it without me." Galen gave him a look of such intense anger that he stepped back a pace. "When we get out of here, I will deal with you." She said, her fury only barely suppressed. "I have no doubt of that." Garrett muttered darkly.
They fled back through the restricted section and out into the hallway, the alarms still ringing loudly. As they neared the security station they slowed. Garrett motioned for Galen to stay back and crept up to the wall. Men we all over the station, searching through rubble and talking. Garrett examined the situation for a moment and then decided on a course of action. He crept back to Galen. "When I whistle, I want you ready to run directly past the station, don't look at it, just run understand?" Galen merely nodded. Garrett turned and moved back up to the end of the hall. Pulling the flashbomb out, he stepped into the room. Garrett whistled and tossed the bomb. The men all whirled around at the sound; they saw the flashbomb hit the ground directly in front of them. It exploded in a blinding flash, Garrett averted his eyes. Galen was already dashing down the hall at the far end. Garrett followed her, shoving past the blind and stumbling guards. He caught up to her easily and they ran side by side.
They were almost out, when they heard the shouts of the guards behind them. They raced down the rest of the hallway and burst into the entrance hall. They started for the main doors but as they did so, a plethora of thieves suddenly appeared from hiding. They ran to block the intruder's escape, while others raced towards them, swords raised high. And the men from the security station came closer still. Garrett swore violently. He grabbed Galen's arm and pulled her off towards a side door. They beat their pursuers to the door and Garrett slammed it open.
They raced on through the passageways, the guards never far behind. Then they reached a bend in the hallway where their pursuers lost them from sight for a moment. Without a second thought Garrett pushed Galen into a nearby closet and them leapt in behind her, slamming the door as he went. The closet was cramped and small, Galen was pressed right up against Garrett's chest, their faces almost touching. Galen was about to angrily protest when Garrett clapped a hand to her mouth. The footsteps in the hallway were almost right outside the closet. Something was digging into Galen's back; she squirmed forward and wrapped her arms around Garrett, pulling herself to him. Garrett felt very uncomfortable just then. The men outside the closet were searching the nearby rooms; Garrett could hear them opening doors all along the hall. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Garrett quickly thought of something. He made a sign with his hands to Galen. He pointed to both himself and her and covered his eyes in a gesture of concealment. Galen got the message and nodded. She signed back, pushing her two fingers close together. Garrett nodded and wrapped his arms back around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Moments later he felt his whole body tingle with an odd sensation. Like someone was pulling a blanket over him. At that moment the closet door opened and light spilled in. A guild member poked his head in and looked into the closet, his eyes passing directly over them. Then he pushed the door shut again.
Garrett realized that he was sweating and panting heavily, and he was gripping Galen tighter than he meant to. He could feel her body trembling against him, hear her deep breathing. He relaxed his hold on her a little but she still gripped him tight. It had been very close. The footsteps moved off down the hallway. When he was sure that nobody was outside he began to extricate himself from Galen. She let go, looking rather sheepish. The feeling of the spell left Garrett and they were visible again. He pushed the door open cautiously and looked both ways down the hall. It was clear. They stepped out into the hallway and began moving again, Garrett checked his map, they were in a hallway just off of the dock area, they would go out that way. He led her to the correct door and out into the docking area.
The place was filled with men, some were loading crates and barrels onto the small rafts and others were checking cargo manifests. Still others were unloading cargo and patrolling the area. Garrett grabbed Galen's wrist and led her into the shadows behind a crate stack before they were noticed. "How are we supposed to get out of here?" She asked. "The place is crawling with guards, we'll never make it into the tunnel alive." "If you can use your magic t-." "I can't, I'd never be able to hold it that long." She said. "Alright, well here's what we do. You and I stow away in some of those outgoing rafts, we can hide under the tarps. They sail out through the tunnel and we jump off when they do." Galen looked at him skeptically. "You have a better idea?" he said. "No, but I don't like this one all the same." She replied. "We'll it's the only choice we have, now let's go."
Garrett led Galen through the gauntlet of guards, ducking into the shadows and behind crates. They made their way over to the rafts. When nobody was looking, Galen crawled forward and onto the raft they had chosen. She wriggled in under the tarps and lay still. Garrett was about to follow, when a group of guild members approached. He shrank back into the shadows and waited. They continued to load their cargo until the raft was fully laden. Then, three of them boarded the raft, two took up long oars and the other sat in the back on one of the crates. They untied the mooring ropes and the raft began to drift off. There was no time for Garrett to reach it before it was cast off. Instead he slithered quickly over to another raft that was about to be pushed off. He came up behind one of the guards and cracked him over the head with his blackjack, dragging his body into the shadows. The first raft was already fairly far out, the guild members poling it out with the oars. Garrett crept onto his raft and slid under a tarp. Moments later he felt the raft jerk and shake as the crew boarded it.
Garrett lay quite still as the raft began to move. He began thinking about what they were going to do when they reached the exit, when suddenly he heard someone scream. People started yelling and his raft rocked dangerously. He managed to squirm around so that he could peer out from under the tarp. Across the water he saw the second raft. Two of the oarsmen lay dead, draped over the crates. Galen was standing on the raft as the third man came at her. As he did so, flames burst from her fingertips, covering him. He screamed in agony, as he became a living torch. The man lurched around the raft and toppled into the water. What in the hell is she doing! He thought.
The men on Garrett's raft had bows. They nocked arrows and were about to fire. Galen didn't see this; she was too intent on conjuring up another spell. Garrett kicked out at their legs from beneath the tarp. They stumbled, their arrows falling from the strings. Garrett leapt into action. He sprang up and whipped the tarp at the closest man, entangling him. With a swift kick he was off the raft and struggling to untangle himself as the water rushed in over his head. Another of the men came at Garrett, a dagger in hand. He lunged at Garrett, who ducked under his arm and came up behind him. The man whirled and swung at Garrett again. Garrett leapt back out of range, rocking the raft dangerously as the balance tipped. Garrett whipped out a dagger of his own, twirling it masterfully in his hand. The space was to small to bring out his broadsword. The man lunged again; Garrett leapt up to the side and onto a crate, just narrowly missing the other man, who had been coming up behind him. Garrett jumped off the crate, as the first man swung at his legs. He landed so that both of them were in front of him. As he hit the deck, the raft angled up into the air, crates slid off into the water and Garrett had to dodge one and try to keep his footing. As the crates slid off, the weight equalized and the raft splashed back down into the water, sending a spray of water flying up.
His opponents had managed to keep their footing and came at him. As the one in front lunged, Garrett grabbed his wrist and twirled inwards, reversing the blade of his dagger as he did so. He jammed it into the second man's chest. The guild member cried out and dropped his short sword. Garrett twisted the first man's arm violently. The man didn't cry out but grunted in pain. He kicked out at Garrett's legs, knocking the thief to the floor. Garrett pulled his opponent as he fell, bringing the man toppling down at him. As he fell, Garrett extended his legs rolled back. He sent his attacker over his head to crash into a stack of crates. He recovered quickly and jumped up as Garrett regained his footing. He pulled another dagger from his cloak as the man grabbed a short sword from his fallen comrade, who was lying in a pool of blood on the deck. He lunged at Garrett, who dodged the swing and sliced outwards at the man. His attacker ducked under the swing and charged Garrett, head down. They slammed into and crate, the guild member trying to impale Garrett with his sword. Garrett grabbed his wrist, holding the blade back from his face. Garrett brought his knee up into the man's crotch. He jerked back, tears welling up in his eyes. The man screamed in a violent rage and directed a two handed swing at Garrett's neck. Garrett brought his dagger up to defend. The sword smashed it from his hand with bone-jarring force and it splashed into the water. The man swung at him again, Garrett was not quick enough and the blade sliced through his cloak and suit, dragging a long gash down his forearm. Blood welled up and stained his suit from the inside. Garrett ignored the pain and ducked the next swing aimed at his head. Garrett came back up and brought his elbow around, cracking it against his opponent's face. The man stumbled back, blinking away the colored spots exploding in his vision. Garrett delivered two punches to the man's chest, winding him. As he doubled over, Garrett whipped out his last dagger. Garrett grabbed the man's hair and yanked him upright. With eyes of cold unfeeling Garrett plunged the dagger into the man's heart. As his eyes clouded in death Garrett kicked him to the deck.
The chamber was lit by an incredible display of light. Galen was unleashing the full extent of her power, and it was terrifying. Fireballs blazed burning contrails across the water as they flew into the mass of men on the docks. Lightening bolts crackled and seared the air as the danced. Discs of energy scythed through the ether, slicing flesh and bone. Galen had entered a trance like state on the raft, her eyes closed and hands upstretched. She murmured constantly, her words indecipherable; not that anyone could even hear them. Something around he neck glowed brightly. The thieves were firing arrows madly at her. Most splashed into the water, but several hit the raft, sticking into crates and barrels.
Garrett grabbed a pole and began rowing towards her. Arrows thunked into his raft as the archers noticed him. Garrett dropped the pole momentarily and shoved some crates over so that he was covered from the archers. He picked up the poled and started again. His arms were sore by the time he reached her raft. As the two craft bumped together he dropped his pole and started rowing the one Galen was on. He didn't dare break her concentration. The raft slowly made its way to the tunnel opening. Arrows continued to splash into the water all around them. Some of the archers had taken to lighting their arrows and so, small pinpricks of fire whistled through the air at them. A few struck the raft but Garrett was quick to stamp them out.
The thieves had launched three rafts after them; each filled with ten men and no cargo. The combined effort of all ten men versus Garrett's strength had a predictable outcome. They were fast gaining on the two escapees. Galen seem to preoccupied with keeping the archers at bay. Garrett dropped his oar, bringing the raft to a dead stop. He pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow. Drawing the string, he aimed and released. One of the men on the rafts tumbled off the raft, an arrow jutting from his throat. Garrett repeated the process, dropping the oarsmen as the rowed towards him. But there were thirty men and he had thirty arrows. He couldn't afford a single miss. They were also cutting the distance quickly; he couldn't possibly get them all before he and Galen were overrun. "Galen!" He shouted as another guild member dropped to the deck of his raft. "Galen! I need your help! Galen!" It didn't appear she heard him.
Then, when they were almost at the raft, she heard. Her eyes snapped open and she thrust a hand at one of the craft. Lightning lanced towards it. As it impacted the water, electricity crackled around the rafts. The metal crossbeams in the vessels provided perfect conduction. On all three rafts men jerked and twitched violently. Like crazed marionettes on invisible strings. One of them made a powerful leap before the electricity hit. He hurtled through the air towards their raft, short sword drawn and ready. Garrett whipped out an arrow and shot him through the chest as he flew. His corpse smashed into the crates and slid off into the water. Galen stopped the flow of electricity. The men all fell to the deck, dead.
Arrows continued to fall like rain…flaming rain. Garrett dove at Galen, knocking her out of the way as an arrow whistled through the air behind them. It thunked into the deck. Garrett leapt up and stamped it out. Galen just lay on the deck, in a state of shock almost. Garrett pushed a stack of crates in front of them and started paddling. Arrows stuck in the crate, burning. The boxes began to be consumed in fire. Garrett kicked one off the stack into the water. His arms ached from the strain; the wound in his left arm was bleeding profusely, making it painful to move. He concentrated his every nerve into making each stroke of the oar. The pain felt as though his arm was on fire. Mentally he accepted it, the pain, he let it flow through him, as though it were blood. Another box crackled and smoldered in flames. He kicked this one off as well. Their cover was getting scarce. Galen just lay trembling on the deck, her eyes staring straight up, and her skin pale.
Then, they made the tunnel. The noise receded into the distance until there was silence. They were alone in the darkness. Garrett let out a heaving sigh and slowed to an easier pace. The journey seemed to stretch on, nothing but dark and the occasional drip from the tunnel roof. At last the tunnel ended and they sailed out into the harbor. Garrett docked the raft on a pier near the tunnel entrance. He picked Galen up in his arms and leapt to the dock. There, he lay her down and checked her over. "Galen? Are you alright?" He said. His voice colder than he meant it to be. She seemed to awaken from a dream at the sound of his voice. "Garrett? I…give me the bottle…in my bag…blue liquid." She said weakly. Garrett pulled open her bag and rummaged through it. His hands clasped around a glass bottle and he drew it out. He uncorked the bottle and put it to her lips. She drank about a quarter of the contents before pushing it away. She sat up, steadying herself on his shoulder. "I'll be alright, just give the healing potion time." She said, her voice returning to normal. "Garrett, I want to…thank…you for what you did back there. You saved my life." She said. Garrett couldn't believe her voice could be so calm. "And you saved mine. We'll call it even." He replied. She stared up into his eyes and he stared back. Then she blinked and nodded. "Keep the Vestrius piece, I will come to Donovan's tomorrow to see the end of this matter." She rose from the dock, standing a little shakily. She leaned on Garrett for support. They reached the end of the quay and started down the boardwalk.
As they approached an alleyway something moved to block their path. Four somethings. "We've business with you witch." A voice said. Four men stepped out of the shadows. It was the patrons from the Three Mugs. The leader's ugly face leered out at them, his chipped and rusted saber evident. Two others carried hefty clubs and the last held a very ragged bow, a quiver and a long dagger. "Your little stunt at the bar is gonna cost you." He said, his rotten, yellow teeth bared. He turned to Garrett. "We ain't got no gripes with you sneaksman, leave the woman and walk away." Garrett gave them one of his piercing stares. "You've gripes with her, then you've gripes with me. Trust me, you don't want that." His three companions seemed ready to bolt at the sight of Garrett, but the leader wasn't so intimidated. "I'm warning you taffer, get out of here." Garrett was tired, cold, and injured, he was in no mood for this. "Clean the grime out of your ears and listen to me you whoreson. I said I'm not leaving, so you had better get the hell out of my way or I'll step over your corpse." Garrett's voice was cold as ice and hard as diamonds. "Oh ho! You want to fight taffer?!" The man said, bringing his sword up. "No, but if you insist."
Garrett moved. He kicked out at the leader, catching him in the stomach. The man doubled up, the air knocked right out of him. Garrett grabbed the sword out of his hands and whipped it at his stunned companions. They ducked as the saber whipped over their heads. Garrett was on them in a flash. He punched the first one in the face; he stumbled back, his nose broken. As another raised his club he smashed him across the face with a backhand and then decked him with his other hand straight on. He fell hard. The third man lunged at him while he was busy with the second. Garrett snapped his leg out. He heard a crack as the man's head whipped back. He fell to the ground, his skull split on the cobblestone. The second man recovered and made to attack him. Garrett whirled around and ducked under the swing. He grabbed the man's wrist and pulled it up behind his back. With a snap his arm broke. He cried out as Garrett pushed him to the ground. The leader had also recovered and came at him; Garrett ducked a clumsy punch and hit him with three rapid-fire jabs to his midriff. The man opened his mouth but no air came in. Garrett punched him once in the face, he fell." The third man came at Garrett again, blood streaming from his mouth. Garrett leapt into the air and delivered a jump-kicked at the man. He flew back and hit the ground. Garrett landed with a thump. Three bodies lay in the street around him and the fourth man was running as fast as he could down the street.
"Now I owe you one." Galen said. As she stepped into the street, her mouth agape. "They were idiots, real men aren't so easy." She nodded vaguely, still staring at the bodies. "Listen you seem fine, will you be all right getting home?" She snapped out of her reverie. "Yes, I'll be fine, thank you again." Garrett nodded. They reached the end of the docks and turned onto the streets. Garrett's arm was hanging limply at his side. Galen noticed this. "Your arm." She said. "Its nothing." He replied dispassionately. She ignored him and grabbed his arm, rolling up the sleeve. The gash was deep but not to wide. Galen grabbed her healing potion out from the slingbag and poured some into the wound. Then she pulled a cloth out and wrapped it in a bandage tight around his arm. It hurt, but Garrett didn't let it show. They continued to walk together, since they were headed in the same direction for the moment. "How did you do that?" Garrett asked. "Do what?" She asked. "The thing in the cave, all that magic, I never knew you were so skilled." He said. "I'm not." She replied. Reaching into her shirt, she pulled out a talisman. It was gold, wrought around a finely ground crystal. The crystal was dark, as though its brilliance had been taken away. "This is called a Dineri. It is a very rare artifact that, when used by a sorceress, has the ability to greatly amplify her power for a period of time. It can only be used once and is incredibly draining on the user." She finished. Garrett looked at the Dineri for a time. "I see, we'll I'm glad you decided to use it, we would have been dead otherwise." She only nodded and replaced the talisman.
The time came for them to part. "Well, this is it. I will see you at Donovan's tomorrow." Galen said. With that she drew her cape around her and walked off around the corner. Garrett was left alone on the empty street. He stood there for a time and then spun on his heel and moved off down the street, his cloak billowing in the same chill wind.