Chapter 3: To Catch a Thief

Crow collects the key and pulls the stakes out of position discarding them in a pile in the false wall. "A key, to what I wonder."

Yeah, if the ring leads west, I say we stick with that.
Dar moves up carefully, avoiding the plates, and does a neat trick shown him by his halfling mentor. Closing his eyes, in intense concentration.

Trig peers at the object, approaching until she can get a better look at it.

Trig frowns, puzzled at what it could mean but on high alert. She pulls a crossbow bolt out of its quiver and tosses it down the hallway, past where the mirrors start.

Darv shrugs, takes a breath, and walks through the passageway.

Taal, eyes on the floor. Tailor looks at his feet and keep walking past the mirrors

Swiftly Crow skulks ahead, shifting from shadow to shadow. He walked on the sides of his feet, as a fox might, keeping the soft glowing rapier concealed beneath his cape, at the low ready. Kukri extended ahead, in position to make space for a rapid one two strike. He would not allow himself to be taken by surprise again. He recited mentally what he had learned of the nature of evil as he had read in the book "How to Be Evil."

"'Treachery, tyranny, perfidy. They share two universal charateristics. Evil in power conceals itself. Evil in weakness endures.' I am worse than evil, which is why I am best at goodness."

Hard won confidence was steeling the young man. He had already proven the worth of his sword. Now, he had a mission, and the desire to show his superiors he was not just a capable leader. He was the best and natural choice for it.

"God of Justice. Dark Father. Tyr, thought blind you see everything. Witness me."

Gratitude to his god was easy while holdong the physical proof of his answered prayer. Aristina's rapier had fit his hand perfectly, the weight and balance perfectly balanced to his wrist. The edge, so sharp, any cut no matter how small would doubtless prove fatal. Even now he understood that the blade was cursed, but it was gleefully accepted. For it was meant for his hand, and he was meant to hold it.

The danger had become critical. Crow did not know if it was the blade's magic, his own instinct, or something in the too still air. But he could sense impending violence. The shock of hair at the nape of his neck, rising to the saggital crest, and extending to his forehead stood on end. "Tarna, I got that feeling again. Smells like old blood and hate." Crow whispered from the darkness, not trying to threaten his superior position. He couldn't be sure if it was his hate tricking him. The cold chill running down his spine met the burning hate in his gut and gave Crow the feeling of pin pricks all over his skin.

He continued, steadily, from shadow to shadow. Just as he had been trained.

"West, south, door," Airn says. "At some point, something is going to find us," he says, thinking of the burnt-out torch they'd passed. He stretches a little bit, anticipating trouble. "Gotta stay limber! Tailor, does you kitten or evil detector know if anything is after us?"

Darv stands stalwart, as stalwart as a young lad can!

"I think we're ready," Trig responds to Tarna, uneasily reloading her crossbow. "...ready to get out of here..." she adds under her breath.

Crow shoulders up to the side of the door opposite Tarna keeping his weapons at the high ready. Prepared to advance to the fore sector of dominance upon her breach. "On your count."

Tailor and Taal nod in unison, and Tailor ready his crossbow.