Into the Den

The rogue Dorlas had already reconnoitred the building, and swiftly described the exterior to Animir as the pair approached. The front entrance was too obvious, so they decided to enter via the side door.

The emblem of the long-bankrupt merchant house the premises had once belonged to - a key and a fish - meant nothing to Animir. Five minutes' work with her tools and the simple lock clicked open, and she silently opened the door.

Inside was quite a large open space. Doors lined the wall to her left, and a flight of stairs directly opposite her led upwards. Between her and the wall with the doors were three men in ring armour, talking quietly; they didn't appear to have noticed the door opening.

Moving like a whisper of deceit, she and Dorlas crept through the shadows along the right-hand wall, and into the staircase. Moving silently up these, they discovered another room at the top, a bunk room by the look of it, with two more guards asleep in beds and one at a table.

They crept through here too, not disturbing anyone, and gained the next room. There they found a meeting or council chamber, with a heavy wooden table and many chairs, and pictures lining the walls. These portrayed a variety of scenes, but the theme was always the same.

The moment of death.

Each showed a sentient at the point of death, whether in battle, from age, by accident, by murder... that one, diamond-crystal instant when the transition happens from a living being to a pile of cooling meat. That vital moment was the object of the entire lives of the Lamenters, and that obsession was made crystal clear here.

It disturbed Animir somewhat. These are not normal people, she thought. Perhaps the word 'insane' wasn't fully accurate, but no mind in a fit state for society could work this way. She shivered at the thought of her friends captive to such people.

Perhaps this disturbing event was why she wasn't quite as careful opening the next door. For whatever reason, when she did so, she found herself face to face with a guard, standing up and talking to another who was seated at a table, in a room very similar to the first one - stairs and all.

The man's eyes widened, and he drew breath to react. Swiftly, Animir cast a Hold Person, planning to freeze him while she quietly dealt with the other, but the magic failed, and he drew his sword. She leaped forwards and attacked as Dorlas stepped quickly in, snapped the door shut to deaden the sounds, and threw a knife at the seated man.

Animir's attack was faultless; her first stroke slashed the guard's hand off at the wrist and the second backhanded across his throat, dropping him silently in a spray of blood. Dorlas' knife hadn't slowed the seated man, who struggled out of his chair just in time to be battered down and into unconsciousness by Animir, who wanted a prisoner. Dorlas flung another dagger at one of the sleepers, who were getting up, roused by the noise.

The other former sleeper rushed Animir with his sword raised, but she stood her ground coolly and cut him down with a single stroke as he charged. Dorlas accounted for the other, and the fight was over.

While Animir roped the prisoner and checked the others were dead, Dorlas listened carefully, and heard nothing. It appeared the little fracas had gone un-noticed... for now.