Even as she heard the twang, and the thud of a bolt hitting ... something, either flesh or wood. It did not matter to her. Blood or splinters might fly and she would still be suffering the same panic. For no matter how many people might die around her, no matter how many bodies may be stored in this small hole, she was concentrating. And her frustration was growing.
"Just where the fuck is it?" she yelled.
The crates and boxes in the room were all overturned. Some were broekn in her fury, their halves scattered to either side of the room. Broken bits of wood, shards and random nails were sticking up in places that really were not safe for anyone. Not even a prison where torture was likely.
Not even a place like the Hollow.
As Stare heard the shouts of a man outside, that was definitely older than Nevin, she remembered her friend suddenly. Pausing whilst holding the current box she was smashing to pieces she looked down at the vial in her hand. Nevin had said something about healing. Lifting the vial up slightly she saw the swirl of crimson and suddenly what he said came to her. Before she had not really been listening - after all who would when one of the items vital to their future happiness wsas missing and possibly, or rather should be in this room?
Red liquid meant blood, and from Nevin that meant useful. He had mentioned healing, and she trusted the man, thus she pulled the vial to her face and plucked out the stopped with a careful tug of her beak. Then, as the bedlam continued outside and words such as, "you are a freak," and, "I prefer them living," came around the edge of the door. Pausing, she seemed to grasp something of reason again, and she threw the contents of the vial down into her throat. As the iron and copper tasting liquid slid smoothly down her throat she glanced back at the room around her, with the remains of the room around her. All she saw was a shattered place, with a throat-cut body lying on the floor, the cobbles slowly becoming drowned in blood. On her body was her chainmail, around her waist were her dagggers and waiting to the side, back on the hook where she had rehung it was her helmet. Jaw tight and meaningful understanding coming to her she began to realise the futility of her mission.
Honestly, she had been through every crate in this room. Twice at least. She had found various other times - rusted daggers and food supplies - as well as a chestpiece armour that seemed to be made from a deep red drakescale. It was around the correct size for Nevin, but perhaps he had not seen it when he had come in first. Certainly it was his colour, and certainly it far too elaborate for any of these guards, who seemed content in their leather hide. Grabbing it and her helmet mask she quickly tied the two of them onto her belt, and then made certain to also collect the keys. Twisting around she placed her back to her irrational mind determined to search for something that was not there and took up her two daggers. Marching out into the corridor she caught the last descent of Sandor the guard. Blinking, she nodded to Nevin who seemed to be stunned, standing there over his third body, blood slowly dripping from the club in his hand.
"You kill well," she said quietly, as she strode over, her eyes glancing down the their most recent corpse.
Then she turned again, her heart still racing and part of her still screaming for her to go back to the store room and look for the cuff. Vitruvion will be mad, it cried.
Forcing herself onwards she gripped her daggers tighter, eyes growing darker as she percieved the rest of the corridor before them. It was wider than the one below. Perhaps eight feet across and with a couple more doors went off from the sides further down. At the end of the corridor was an archway, which was bi-sected by a perpendicular corridor, routes going left and right. The sets of keys that they had would go far, it was to be sure. But what did wait for them next was going to be difficult. A mage would await them certainly, though he had not come yet. More guards was definitely possible, however they had not come with the commotion so far. Going over to the closest door that was set to the side she peered in through the small grill - for it was a mirror to the one behind. Within she saw an empty room, save for a low bed to the back, and a small trunk on the floor. A candlestick on a table.
"Bedroom," she said, back to Nevin. "No one is in it, and I would wager the next one is the same. Onwards," she suggested, raising a dagger and pointing to the end of the corridor.
