A dark figure stood on a light hill, striding in the bathing light of dawn. Dressed in complete black he had the resemblance of a reaper with a stream of white hair billowing behind him. Like death's companion a crow woman came after, her face obscured by a long grey mask. Silent, unwanted, they walked, up to the door set into the hillside.
Without speaking the leading figure moved to the door and set a hand on it. He paused, before grasping a handle pulling it open. Hinges ripped with the sound of ugly grating, and he threw the wood to the side, letting it be little more than a wreck. Tilting his head around he waited for the kenku to catch up before ducking his head and going into the hill itself, a smile upon his lips.
There was a cry, ragged and shocked. Immediately Stare grabbed her two daggers from her belt and moved into a fluid pace, kicking her awareness into gear. Easily she slid around Vitruvion as he kept striding, heading in and through, swirling in a dervish of black. An awkward and uncertain being was stumbling at them, sword drawn out and pointed. Still Vitruvion strode as he had done before, his cane clacking like nothing else was happening. But Stare was moving. By the time the man had grunted his way a quarter of the way down the corridor she was at him, slapping aside his blade with one of hers, then jabbing his throat with the other.
Blood spilled, red and thick. It stained down her plynt dagger, running in the filler as the man collapsed as a corpse and she took back her blades. She blinked, watching his fall and breathed in slow, waiting for the clack-clack to catch up with her. Catching up with her breath she wiped the dripping blood on her tunic as he came a halt behind her.
"One," he counted. "Keep your blades drawn."
She nodded, her breath coming back to normal, before she started off again, her eyes round and dark. Scanning the area she saw corridor that dipped down the stairs and away, and slipped into her sight of heat. There were no obvious bodies coming up the steps, but there was a warmer varient coming from below them. She blinked, glanced back to Vitruvion who merely looked at her, his whole body now tense, but still elegantly poised.
They're still here, she clear in her mind. I didn't think ...
There is a define intelligent, authoritative power here, he replied calmly, It was clear from your memories last time. Carefully she started up the stone stairs as he went on. This facility is far too prepared, useful and tactical to abandon lightly.
Slowly she nodded and kept herself prepared, able to act in the slightest sign of attack. Her heart hammered as she turned around the corner of the steps, a light source becoming clear ahead, warm bodies likely.
The walls were cold, as ugly as she remembered. She kept going, onwards but with no need to turn around and check if Vitruvion was there - for the breath on the back of her neck told her she was. As her feathers began to rustle with a quiet breeze snaking its way through the passages, she found herself coming eye sight with the top of the stairs, and a long, fine corridor, with one passageway off.
Straight ahead is the room that the mage was in, she said.
Be ready. Vitruvion said, And duck when I tell you to.
She frowned but got into a ready crouch and bared herself for what might come. Slowly they went as a pair, her like the foreshadowing and him the main course. Daggers eager she went as quiet as she could into the tunnel that was lit by bracketed torches.
Nothing stirred. Thus, onwards they went, deeper, further. The corridor to the side came up and Stare ducked against the wall - before very slowly peeking around.
Three men dressed in rough hide hauberks, in a long corridor. Each with a sword at his side, and all sitting on stools in the middle of it all, laughing to one another. A series of doors ran down one side of the space, ones that she knew were rudimentary bedrooms, and a store room. They did not seem to notice her, engrossed as they were in something in between them, that included a handful of cards each.
Slowly she leant back, twisting around to find herself eye to eye with Vitruvion. He stood about a metre away, one hand grasping the head of his cane tightly. If it was anything like the one he had six months ago, Stare knew that it probably had a blade inside. He seemed thoughtful, though stood with a certain amount of tension. There was a pause of silence between them.
Them first, Vitruvion said into her mind. Anyone that might be in the mage's room will likely call them in some way when we attack them.
Slowly Stare nodded and geared herself. Breathing in she shifted her hands around her dagger hilts before turning all the way back around to face the corridor again.
Wait ... the god paused, and then grinned. Ah yes, I thought I could now. I can teleport you straight between them, Stare. Without needing to move myself.
Her head tilted back slightly and she eyed him. Now?
Now, indeed, he inclined his head. I could not teleport others before, just enchant items to do so - but it seems I can with you. Now anyway.
