Dragon (S)Layers Ch. 53

Including two potential thieves or murderers.

Without her shadow bending armor Lostariel stood out as a form against them, and Felicia wasn't much better– they flattened themselves against the wall as the guard passed. Waited a beat. Then Lostariel slipped into the opposite stall and swept some hay aside. Sure enough, a small trap door hid under the hay. Before Felicia could question how she'd found it or even how safe it was, the assassin was opening it. She took a moment to ensure it was safe before she climbed down.

The tunnel was dank and tight, made of hewn stone and re-enforced with thick iron struts, lit by an eternally glowing crystal at the opposite end, it made her think of the smugglers tunnels back under Laleah. "What is it with us and tight dark spaces?"

As expected, Lostariel remained silent. She was focused, predatory, her stride utterly cat-like. It was insane to think of her as anything other than a predator, yet somehow the young plains walker found herself eying the woman and wondering, not for the first time, what might've been. In a different life. Hell, in this one, too.

It was dumb, so was she, so what? Dreams and hopes weren't a thing to be shunned. Maybe they'd find out what could be one day. She already had an idea of what Lostariel respected in another person. All she had to do was figure out how to emulate that. Strange her thoughts would turn to that in an otherwise dire situation. . .

Lostariel saddled up to the door and went through her routine of checking it. When she was finished she crouched down, searched around the latch and hesitated. She sat like that, utterly still to the point she wasn't breathing any more and waited. After some seconds she leaned forward once more and instead of trying the handle, she produced one of her daggers and used it as a wedge against the lock. Pushing it up and tripping it open, she didn't look relieved or anxious so much as unsure.

That struck Felicia as odd so she touched the woman's shoulder, gaze curious. Lostariel hesitated another second before she murmured. "My mentor used traps like these. Watch." She eased the door open gently revealing a tiny wire strung from the handle to an unseen device on the other side of the frame. Felicia was careful to follow Lostariel's movements, watching as the woman carefully slackened the wire and then clipped it with her blade. She stood up and then as though she knew it'd be there, clipped another near the top without comment. Once they were through and positive the root cellar was actually safe, they checked the devices the wires had been attached to.

Felicia was familiar and quite good with snares and the like, but something in the sophistication of these mechanical creations tugged at her on some primal level; tiny gears and a wound band of metal were attached to a thimble's worth of black power, and to that a paper wrapped rectangle which Lostariel dislodged from either trap. By way of explanation she cut one of them open to show Felicia a haphazard collection of tiny metal scraps, bent steel and iron, copper and others that'd been turned to the purposes of horrrific maiming and, if one was unfortunate to get both of them at once, a very bloody, very grizzly end. Evidently Lostariel shared the disgust roiling about in Felicia's gut. She clipped the other payload and tossed the mess in the corner.

Even knowing there were other people in the building didn't slow down their prowl. They cleared through the cellar in short order, passing dusty kegs and racks and racks of wine bottles enroute to the stairs that would lead them to the home proper. Lostariel checked the door, eased it open and paused to listen for traffic. Beyond the door was an expansive kitchen wrapped in exotic tile and smelling of lavender. Small baskets of hanging plants gave the place a splash of green that clashed against the otherwise placid tans and whites and actually made the place seem kind of alive. Lived in.

No one stopped their advance, as they prowled through the kitchen into the pantry and the servant's quarters beyond that. It struck the young plains girl how clean and crisp the beds were, how not so much as a speck of dust was out of place in the empty room, almost as though the entire building was holding its breath, waiting for something. . .

Did Lostariel sense it too? She didn't give any indication she did, though she was careful, as always, to wait, listen and then peek before moving from one location to another. Her fundamentals were their doctrine; identify the next place you're going to move to, listen for the sounds of the area, move silently. It was dangerous, tedious, and a far cry from the crashing thunder and churning earth of her homeland, but Felicia kept up as best she could.

They swept from the servant's area to a broad dining room that seemed to be following the trend of the rest of the estate. Decorated in purples and whites, not even the linen had been smudged by dirt. It connected to several other doors and cubbies where servants could deliver food or take away dishes, Felicia imagined. Lostariel, seeming familiar with the layout of such a place lead Felicia to the set of double doors at the front of the room. She performed her routine of checking and waiting, then slowly eased the latch down until it gave– she peeked. A pause.

Felicia drew in a short breath, suddenly aware of how vulnerable they actually were. This had been a terrible idea.

Lostariel touched her arm, made a walking gesture with two fingers and then pointed them at a side door. Then she pointed up. Before Felicia could argue or even ask for clarification, the assassin picked up and slipped through the double doors leaving her alone. She wanted to shout, to charge after her mentor, but she also knew this mean a chance at finding the old man's daughter and maybe, just maybe, doing some good here besides just getting her things back.

Knowing there was nothing else she could have done, she did exactly as she'd been trained by both her homeland and the assassin; she picked herself up and crept up to the side door. Peeking in revealed a hall, itself leading to a side hall– a winding labyrinth around the main halls and corridors with fleeting glimpses of the chambers that they circled. It was strange, unsettling even, that for ever corner she turned there was another clean hall waiting for her; the entire place was built up to allow the servants to be invisible. Something like that took money, a lot of it. . .

Felicia kept pace with Lostariel, checking the nooks and crannies she found before moving on to the next chamber, marking out the place in her mental map. When she got to a tight spiral stair case, she crept up the steps with such care that she couldn't hear her own foot steps, padding up two at a time she crested the second floor to see only a single door a dozen feet in front of her.

And a flickering candle light spearing tendrils of light across the painted wood flooring.

"Son of a bitch."

Felicia edged up a couple more steps, crouching as she'd seen Lostariel do before she steepled her fingers against the door's edges, ear to the wood. Nothing stirred, no sounds, not so much as a miscast shadow. A good sign, maybe. She peeked through the key slot. The room beyond was simple, swathed in fine cloth and wood trim that looked polished to a mirror sheen with an overhead lamp throwing shadows over some of the most ornate furniture the young girl had ever seen in her life. It looked like a sitting room, a place to meet people for talks and discussions; a tray on the middle table looked suited for serving drinks and the like.

Just as she went to reach for the handle, she saw it. A wire at the top of the frame attached to a latch on the door, connected to a hinged platform with a jar of clear liquid on top of it. It was obvious what was meant to happen when the door opened. The jar would empty its contents on to the unsuspecting victim and. . . .gods only knew what that would do. Felicia stopped cold. Who came up with this crazy shit? It was the same thing she'd seen in the guard's office, but at least this time she could disable it. . .

After disconnecting the latch from the wire, Felicia gingerly eased herself in. A sharp right turn and she followed the wall to the double doors leading to the second floor hall– to her chagrin not only was the door open and the hall beyond it well lit, she could see the main hall from her position. Lostariel was just making her way up the stairs. She waved her hand to get attention and the assassin crouched reflexively, eying her a moment and nodding.

So together they came at the hall from opposite angles, stopping at each of the four doors between them to check for movement or sound. When they finally met, Lostariel put her fingers to her eyes, ears and mouth. 'See, hear anyone?'

Felicia shook her head which made Lostariel frown. After a moment she drew a spiral in the air and pointed to the end of the hall. They were going up it seemed.

Felicia nodded and turned to follow. They prowled through the hall, right up to the lip of the curve. In her state of hyper awareness, she swore she could feel something tremor through the wood her hand was touching. A subtle thing. The pulsing of a heart? The movement of–

Then it happened.

Lostariel was peeking around the corner, something exploded in front of them. Bright white light. A form erupted from the door between them and the corner. Moving fast. A flash of steel. Felicia dived by instinct, shoving off with her foot. Scrambling. She cried out to warn her friend.

There was no hesitation. Lostariel rolled forward, spun into a combat crouch. She'd flung one of her daggers towards the form. Male. Broad. Brown hair. Older. Armed. Felicia grabbed for her kukri. A wound in the wall where her neck had been a moment before. Shit, shit, shit.

The form ducked to the side and lunged- stopped when he saw Lostariel bringing her next blade to bear. In another second he was ducking back into the room he'd come from. Felicia was slow to gather herself but Lostariel was already up, striding towards the door, towards the threat. She grabbed her second blade from the hole in the wall. Without so much as a glance back, she peeked. Started to duck low to enter.

"Wait!" Felicia called. It's a trap! Her mind screamed before her voice could.

But Lostariel didn't wait.

Another explosion rocked the hallway– this time it wasn't light that filled the hall but concussive force that blew Lostariel into the opposite wall. Massive plumes of dust and fire followed her, choking off the hall, sending shards of hot wood and cinder in every direction. Lighting the hall. For a brief instant it looked like the aftermath of a lightning strike but in the next a battlefield.

Lostariel was scrambling towards her, wobbly and off balance by the blast. Felicia dove to haul her up, both hands grabbing material. They half ran-half stumbled around the corner, Felicia lead the charge– right up to the first door they came across. Lostariel yanked her hair and shoved her against the opposite wall with power she'd never expected. It happened so damn fast the girl could barely keep track of the happenings; Lostariel, covered in dust and bleeding from a gash in her forehead sheathed one blade and turned her body flat against the wall before chucking her other blade down the hall ensuring it went end over end for the first couple feet.

As soon as it crossed by the frame of the door immediate to their right something in the floor gave. Just a little bit, but it was circular and big enough that someone would lose their footing in it. Almost like the floor was made of soft clay. Lostariel lead them around the divot, kept low and fast. Felicia kept checking behind them but their would be attacker didn't make another appearance immediately. However from her new angle, she did notice a couple of wires at head level. Scabs of fabric wall coverings also just slightly askew near them.

"What the fuck did you get me into?!" Felicia heard herself say through the numb shock of pain and fear coursing through her veins. There was no heart in it, no fire, but it felt like it needed to be asked. Asked and not answered.

They stopped beside the next door they came across, Lostariel ran her finger along the frame, turned the handle just enough for it to unlatch and backed up. She stabbed the tip of her blade in between the frame and door, twisted and wrenched it until the door started to creak open. Something sprang and she dived back, throwing herself over Felicia.

But nothing exploded. Something did clank though.

She tumbled off into a crouch against the opposite wall and peeked. Felicia got a whiff of something particularly acrid and heavy. Like rotting meat decaying super fast. When Lostariel picked up to move past the door she followed, finding the source of stench in a splattering of acid cast across the dissolving floor. Wisps of smoke curled in the air from a now skeleton-like floor where only the beams under it were visible. The tiny room beyond held only a privy and some mix of paper products Felicia had never seen before.

The two women split up there, taking to opposite sides of the hall with a low profile that kept them below the wood framing that ran the length of the wall. When they came to the southern corner of the estate it was Felicia who had to peek around the corner. More empty hall rolled out before her, ending in a rather obvious staircase to the third floor. She relayed this information with a spiraling finger and walking hand gesture. Lostariel peeked, glanced back down the hall.

A trap, this had to be a trap. But why? Who'd know they were even coming?

It wouldn't be a question they'd find any answer to just waiting, not with a killer on the loose. Lostariel pushed around the corner and together they started up the hall to the stairs. Felicia took a position to the left, Lostariel to the right, Lostariel made her way up the steps and when it was clear she clicked her tongue twice to signal her charge to follow.

Another hall.

"Gods dammit." Felicia clutched her kukri tightly. This was shorter by far, perhaps the size of the average home back in Sorash, wrapped tight around a central room with a single offshoot to the right. This time Felicia took the lead, following her side of the hall until she came to the outcropping– a windowed balcony that overlooked the rest of the village. A possible exit. Unless–

She squinted against the gloom. Sure enough, more wires at head level. She turned to the rest of the hall. Hesitated.

"Holy. Shit." Her heart backed up when she saw the criss crossing wires deeper in the hall, it wasn't just at one level but multiple, an array– a gaggle, maybe? It was as if someone had shone light through shattered glass. She looked to Lostariel and shook her head, trying to make up some kind of weird short hand for what she was seeing by forming a grid with her hands, then drawing a finger across her own throat.

Lostariel frowned at that, peeked around the corner. . . .the expression of 'who does that?' was almost comical if not for the irritation behind it. The trickle of blood running her face didn't help matters either.

No one could have gotten through that without some kind of bodily harm, and yet– Wait. No. There had to be a servant's route through here, surely. Felicia crept over to her mentor to murmur in her ear. "The servants use halls that go around the rooms. Maybe there are some around here?"

She nodded.

"You okay?"

Another empty nod.

"Hey-"

"I'm fine." Lostariel turned away, running her fingers along the wall. Felicia did the same on her side and together they searched the hall until it seemed like there was nothing to be found. Felicia was just about to give up when Lostariel clicked her tongue twice to get her attention. Turning, she saw the assassin digging her blade into a crack in the wall. A couple of good yanks and a portion of it opened outwards smoothly. The room beyond was sizable, taking up most of the space of the floor, a lantern shown brightly in the rear of the room highlighting a very straight sight to the young plains walker.

Leather in her world was a tool to protect oneself from danger, to carry things and to shelter oneself from the elements. But here. . . .here it was a work of art. Art– of a sort. A particular kind of mind would have found the fusion of leather and exposed flesh strangely beautiful; haunting in what it symbolized. She ignored, for the moment, the strapped tables and work benches that occupied the center of the room in favor for the dozen of highlighted humanoid forms bound to the ceiling around its circumference.

At first they looked like humans, but as they eased into the 'gallery' of the prostrate forms that were bound to the ceiling– whether with their arms over their heads or behind their backs, it became clear that they were mannequins. Each of the dozen wore something different and exotic; a braided dress of silk rope coiled around voluptuous curves with serpentine windings restraining one figure's arms over its head got Felicia's attention in particular. It was beautiful, flowing. . . .highlighting all the twists and turns of the mannequin's form in such a way that the light was given so little to play off it actually highlighted what would've been flesh.

For a moment, just one, she imagined Lostariel wearing it. Or Sarah. Absurd. Even in the heart of this insanity she found it beautiful. Lostariel ignored the figures in favor of the two doors punctuating the room. After checking them for traps she peeked into one that, if Felicia could read the shadows right, emptied out into the hall they'd come from. They were running out of time and options; it was dangerous to wait, suicide even but Lostariel didn't seem in a big hurry; she checked over the work benches and tables while Felicia kept watch.

"Aha," she exclaimed after a moment. At Felicia's glance she held up her own leathers in all their light absorbing 'glory'. Is this where their equipment had ended up? As scraps on the table? Or– was this part of their attacker's plan?

"Ngh. . ." Felicia groaned. People could go crazy thinking about this stuff and she was half way there already. If the 'planted equipment' theory was true, though, there was little they could do as it was. Lostariel almost seemed to make a point of defying that expectation by sliding into her jacket and strapping it down, tying the legging around her waist and tucking them through the straps on her chest.

Suitably protected, she crept up to Felicia and touched her shoulder. A quick shared glance had Lostariel casting her eyes down, a brief flicker of something- maybe regret- lighting her purple eyes. "No armor for you." She whispered.

"Plan?"

Something in the killer's eyes flickered; appreciation. They had to be quick, there was no time for worrying about the 'small' details. Lostariel glanced back into the room, then at the tables. A smirk touched her mouth; a very dark, wolfish smile.

A couple of gestures later and they'd worked out a general idea. Felicia crept up to the door in the back of the room while Lostariel carefully hauled one of the work benched to the door that faced the hallway. When the time came she'd break the window and shove the table into the trip wires, hopefully drawing the other would be killer's attention, giving them time to react.

It wasn't as if he didn't know they were already in here or even where they were exactly, but if he'd thought for a moment his traps had been sprung and caught someone, they'd have that split second longer to react. Lostariel seemed confident, even if Felicia was less so.

Everything was a learning experience.