Something wasn't right. Garrett could feel it, the lurking sense of danger, in the back of his mind. He brought it to the fore and scrutinized the house more carefully. Donovan's manor was dark; its window's like dead, hooded eyes staring out at Garrett. The chimney was lacking smoke. The silence was oppressive as though even the wind knew that to break it would be like blasphemy. The streets in the area were devoid of life. Garrett didn't like it. He pushed open the iron gate, its hinges squeaking loudly in the quiet. Garrett strode up the garden path, each step felt like an eternity. Garrett reached the door and was about to knock, when he thought better of it. He pushed the heavy door open.
A scene of carnage greeted his eyes. There were bodies strewn around the entrance hall. Three on the stairs and two sprawled on the floor. They were servants; Donovan had quite a few. The corpses looked violently mutilated and those with faces still intact wore looks of terror. Among the dead, Garrett recognized Harold. He had answered the door for the last time. Garrett's sword was out in a twinkling; the ring as it left the scabbard was piercing. He cautiously advanced inside, stepping over the corpses. He moved up the stairs, his eyes darting to and fro. Every step echoed in the eerie silence of the house. Garrett reached the hallway at the top and nearly tripped over a body in the darkness. The hall was also littered with corpses, in much the same position as the previous ones. Papers and furniture had been torn to pieces and scattered around the area, as though a tornado had ripped through. Lamps were cracked and broken, and blankets had been spilled out of a closet and torn up. As Garrett advanced down the hallway he heard a sound from one of the rooms. His head whipped around. It had come from one of the sitting rooms; its door lay broken in the entryway. Garrett advanced inside; his heart beat madly, his senses telling him to run. He pushed down his instinct and pressed on.
The room was a windowless sitting room, destroyed and corpse infested much like the rest of the house. In the midst of the destruction, something still lived, although barely. A servant was sitting in one of the chairs that were still upright. His clothes and skin and been brutally slashed. His face was lined with deep red gashes and caked with dried blood. He was slumped down in the chair, one hand across his chest, the other hanging limply off to the side. He gave a deep moaning sound as Garrett entered, followed by a violent cough. "What the hell happened here?" He said, moving closer to the man. "They came…(cough)…killed everyone…looking for Donovan…(cough)…said he had something they…(cough)…needed (cough)." Garrett went over to him and kneeled beside the chair. "Who came? What were they looking for?" The man stared at him. "Them! (cough)…looking for the Vestr- (cough). They were…" The servant suddenly convulsed, blood spilled from his mouth, staining his clothes. He slumped back in the chair, dead. Garrett stood and brought up his sword. They were looking for the Vestrius. He had hidden it before he left for the guild. He hoped it hadn't been found. Who would do something like this? And where was Donovan?
Garrett moved back into the hall and continued. He had to get to his room. Get the 1st piece of the Vestrius and get the hell out of this grave. He came to the door of his room. It was intact and closed. Garrett listened at the door. He could hear someone just inside, hear their breathing and the faint creak of his bedsprings. They were sitting on his bed. Garrett prepared his sword. With a mighty kick, the door flew open and banged against the wall, its hinges protesting noisily. Garrett rushed inside, sword drawn.
The windows were open, letting the cold breeze in. The thin white curtains blew in the draft, like pale ghosts. The chill of the room seemed more than just cold. As though it carried an essence of menace. The entire room was bathed in the blue moonlight. A figure sat on the bed, cloaked in black the same as Garrett, his entire body covered from face to feet. "Greetings Garrett, I was wondering when you would arrive." The man said. Garrett stopped in the doorway he stared at the man. "Who the hell are you?" He said. It seemed more a threat than a question. "Don't you recognize me? No I don't suppose you do. It had been so long since we last met. I am Keeper Lukas." Garrett stood stunned into silence for a moment. "Please take a seat." Lukas said, motioning to a chair across from the bedside. "I'll stand." Lukas shrugged. "Why are you here? What's going on?"
"All valid questions my friend, but more than I can answer simply." Lukas said. "I am not your friend, you were the teacher and I was the pupil. The relation ends there." Garrett said coldly. "You are a keeper, we are brothers, bound by the same oath." Lukas said. "No, you are a keeper, I am not. The oath means nothing to me. Words said to appease the ears and satisfy the stupid, nothing more." Lukas showed no hint of emotion. "Whatever the case, I believe you asked a question." "Yes." Garrett said. Lukas nodded slightly. "This house was raided by the watch. They were here on the belief that Donovan was involved a conspiracy with several other nobles to assassinate the Lord Governor. His entire household was believed to be in the know, and so was slaughtered as well; cells are overcrowded enough as it is. Donovan was taken in to the watch station. He is awaiting execution." Lukas finished. "The keepers do nothing but meddle in the affairs of others, I have no doubt you had some hand in this, you seem to know the whole story in any case." Garrett said. "The keepers strive to maintain things the way they were meant to be. To tip the scales to far is to destroy the balance." Lukas said. "I read the chronicles, there is no need to quote it like I am a novice."
"The chronicles are a wealth of knowledge and wisdom to all an-." "Spare me the fanatical drivel. You still have not answered my question. Why are you here?" Garrett said. Lukas sighed. "I am here to do exactly what you hate the order for. Maintain the balance. Garrett, the Vestrius is an artifact of immense power, it cannot be permitted to fall into the wrong hands." Lukas said. "No." Garrett said plainly. "What?" Lukas said, puzzled. "No, I will not hand it over. That is what you were going to ask was it not? You damned keepers. Always do you preach about keeping the balance, but you are no better than anyone else is. You strive to acquire any item you may need to further your own ends, always claiming to do it for the good. You keep things in the shadows, letting just enough slip to manipulate those who would serve their purpose for you. We are all pawns to you, expendable. To long have you meddled in my affairs, though I have done my utmost to prevent it."
Lukas still showed no reaction to Garrett's statements. "If we truly do keep things in the shadows as you say, then we must have taught you well. You are the shadows; darkness is your business. You have taken the skills we gave you and perverted them, furthered your own ends." Lukas said. "I never said that my actions were to maintain any balance. They are purposed to benefit me." Garrett replied. "Be that as it may, you have aided us in the past." Lukas said. "Never intentionally I assure you." Garrett muttered. "Though you may refute it, you have done so, regardless of intent. Do not make things difficult for yourself or for us." Lukas said tonelessly. "I will not comply, especially not to veiled threats. The Vestrius is in my possession and will remain so. The meddling of the keepers ends here and now." Garrett said, menacingly. "Oh, and by the way brother Lukas, you weren't very thorough were you?" Garrett said. "What are you speaking of?" Lukas asked. "You are a liar is what I am speaking of. Your story doesn't fit. One of the servants told me, before he died, that whoever did this was looking for the Vestrius. You tell me that the watch came and arrested Donovan on conspiracy charges. I'm inclined to believe the man with his last breath of life. I want the truth. What happened here? Was the Vestrius so important that you would slaughter innocents to get it? To preserve the balance? Where is the balance in this?!
There was dead silence as Garrett stopped talking. Lukas spoke; his voice was now a raspy hiss. "I tried to be reasonable with you Garrett, your death would have been quick and painless. But now, I'm afraid we are going to have to do this the hard way."
Lukas sprang at Garrett, his cloak shredded, revealing his true form. The creature was like a cross between a human and lizard. Though its shape was human, it had scales of dark green all over it's body. The head was like that of a snake, flat, with slit eyes and a nose. The arms and legs were strong and heavily muscled. It had webbed feet and humanoid hands. Its chest was also covered in strong muscular tendons. A pair of short membrane wings sprouted from its back. On the forearms were wicked looking claws that grew straight from the skin. They extended to the fingertips and then about the length of a short sword from the fingertips to the point.
The creature hacked at Garrett with his forearm claws. Garrett brought his broadsword up to parry the blow. The impact was blindingly painful, that alone cracked the bone in Garrett's arm. The blow bent the blade out of shape completely, rendering the sword useless. Garrett cried out in pain. As the creature's second arm came around, Garrett ducked and leapt under it onto the bed. The beast spun around lightening quick and brought a forearm claw whistling down at Garrett's head. Garrett rolled aside and not a moment too soon. The claw raked a slash straight through the mattress. The second claw was descending the moment Garrett rolled. He pushed off the nightstand with his feet, rolling backwards as the claw sliced the mattress where he had just been. The monster gave of a shriek of anger. Garrett rolled off the bed and landed in a crouch. As he did so, the monster grabbed the bed and heaved it aside. It crashed into the desk, splintering both pieces of furniture to matchsticks. The thing came at Garrett, swinging its deadly claws. Garrett ducked the first blow, and dove between the thing's legs. Garrett slid across the polished floor and leapt up, drawing his only dagger. The beast whirled around to face Garrett, shrieking still. Garrett plunged the dagger into the fiend's face.
The dagger imbedded itself in its jawbone. The thing shrieked even louder, black blood spilling from the wound. It whipped out at Garrett with its forearm claw; Garrett dodged aside, but not fast enough. The blow was only glancing, but the creature's strength was immense. Garrett sailed backwards and crashed through the wooden shutter doors for the closet. It felt as though one or two of his ribs were broken. Clothing spilled out of the closet, as did a bag filled with Garrett's equipment. Garrett stood up quickly, pushing through the haze of pain. The creature was nearly on top of him, having stopped to yank the dagger out of its jaw. Garrett moved, spinning aside as the creature charged past into the closet. Clothes were shredded and blankets ripped apart as its razor sharp claws tore into them. The thing whirled almost at once and charged Garrett again. Garrett once again dodged its deadly thrust. The points of the claws burst through a dresser cabinet. The creature was momentarily stuck, its claws having gone through the dresser and jammed into the wall behind. Garrett toppled the cabinet down on the creature. With a mighty shriek, the thing held up the dresser and, moments later, burst its claws out the sides, sending wood splinters flying. Garrett heaved a desk chair at it. The beast merely swatted it aside, the chair smashed into the nightstand, destroying both.
It advanced slowly on Garrett, arms upraised. Garrett circled with it, moving until his back was to the broken closet. He crouched down and grabbed something, his eyes never leaving the circling monster. With a screech it charged in. Garrett leapt backwards, pushing off the wall next to the closet. He flipped through the air over its head with the help of his boots, nearly hitting the ceiling. As he passed over it, he jammed the mine he had been holding onto its back. The mine was already armed. As Garrett landed heavily facing the beast's back, he threw himself backwards. The creature swiveled around and opened its mouth to shriek. The mine detonated. The explosion was not incredibly large, but still big enough. The room was awash with heat; it singed Garrett's face and burned his skin. Then all was silent.
The room was filled with thin smoke that was already filtering out the window into the night. Garrett lay on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. His entire body was in pain. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe. He slowly and ever so painfully lifted himself off the floor. The room was in absolute ruin. Partly from his battle with the creature and partly from the explosion. The walls were blackened and there were chunks of wall missing. There was furniture and pieces of furniture strewn around and charred. The door had been blow off its hinges and lay on the floor in the hallway. The windows were shattered and swung brokenly on their cruxes. Amongst the devastation was the smoking carcass of the thing. It lay barely recognizable near the closet.
Garrett struggled forward. After taking two steps he stumbled and fell to his knees. His ribs and arm were broken, his skin was burned and singed, and the wound he had taken in the Moonshadows guild had reopened. He struggled up, using a broken bedpost as leverage. He stumbled drunkenly towards the closet, collapsing just as he reached it. He stopped his fall with his good arm, rolling onto his side when he hit. Lying next to his split bag of equipment he rummaged through the pile of things until he found one of his healing potions. He uncorked the little glass bottle with his teeth and drank deep. The effect was slow; Garrett must have lay there for an hour or more as the potion worked on his severe injuries. Finally he felt well enough to stand without falling. His injuries were still there, but the pain had been reduced to a tolerable level. He would be able to manage for awhile, before the effects wore off and the pain returned. He gathered up what equipment he could carry in a single backpack and slung it over his shoulder. The wind was blowing through the room and Garrett wrapped his cloak tight about him. He went over the wrecked bed and pulled on the far-left bedpost. The top popped off; a thin wire attached to the bottom. The inside was hollow, with the string running down into it. Garrett pulled the string out. At the end of the wire, there was a cloth bundle tied tightly. Garrett undid the string and unwrapped the cloth. The first half of the Vestrius lay undamaged in his hand, the blue headpiece glowing brightly. He dropped this piece into the leather cylinder with the second piece.
Garrett left the wreckage of Donovan's house and moved off down the dark streets as quickly as he dared, lest the pain take him in his fragile state. His mind felt clouded and his thoughts blurry and fragmented. His senses were dulled and so were his reflexes. He was as vulnerable as a child. Which is why he never saw them coming.
Garrett stumbled through the marketplace, the shops and stalls empty and dark. The fountain in the canal was silent; its water flow turned off for the night. The empty tables outside the café were bathed in the harsh glow of one of the streetlamps that dotted the market square. As Garrett passed a darkened alleyway, a figure stepped out behind him and struck him over the head. He fell to the ground with a thump, unconscious. Five more figures stepped out of hiding and converged upon his unconscious form. "Pick him up." One of them said. "We have much to discuss."