penetralia
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Within the corridors on the Mage’s Temple, the shadows stirred. It was not a large movement, as only the most observant would hope to catch even a fleeting glimpse of it, but it was there. And within those flickering shadows, a man moved.
Each of his steps was careful and measured, even as he moved at a quick pace. His breathing was controlled to the point where one would think him dead had he been lying still. Even his scent was masked, pulled into the shadows that surrounded him.
He deftly avoided the many magical traps in the Temple, resisting the urge to scoff at the simplicity of it. Oh sure, a lesser thief would be captured within seconds. A normal man would likely blunder right into an alarm trap and be captured easily. But he was no simple thief. Stationary wards and traps posed as much threat to him as a passing breeze did to a giant. And the guards were not much better.
They were skilled enough, and kept a keen eye open for clever intruders. But the mages tended to put more faith in magic than men, and there were few guards patrolling the halls. It made his quest all the simpler.
He made his way inwards, towards the very center of the vast Temple. The place was huge, and built like a complex maze, but he made his way through all the same. He did not stop until he reached his destination. A set of double doors larger than some houses, carved with intricate designs. There were masterpieces of form and function. Large and heavy, few would be able to open them physically. And the patterns that at a glance looked to be simple ornament, were in fact powerful protective spells.
He knew how to get by them though. That was the easy part. The hard part was getting passed the guards. There were three of them, standing at perfect attention in front of the doors. Two were human. They would pose more challenge than the patrols, but not much. But the third? That was a sentry golem. It would no doubt be able to see through his shadows, and could not be tricked or bribed.
He would need to disable it to get through the doors. But doing so would no doubt alert the human guards. But dealing with those two would no doubt ensure the golem would see him. Quite the conundrum. But he still had his ways.
He silently pulled out a thin, black rod. He was loath to use this so soon, as he only had three. But he needed its power. He broke the rod, the material snapping silently. The moment he did, the world slowed around him. The shadows grew denser, enveloping everything around him. For the duration, not even the golem would see him. If anyone could, they would see him appear to teleport.
But the effect was brief. So he moved. He dashed, skirting the sentries and heading for the door. He jumped slightly, landing in a shadow. A shadow that he fell through like it was empty air. He came out on the other side of the door. He grinned. The Mage’s Vault. The world’s greatest repository of magical goods. It made the treasuries of most kingdoms seem like a child’s savings.
He crept through the place, knowing there were likely defenses even here. Everywhere he looked, there were riches beyond his wildest dreams. A single item from the Vault would make him a rich man. But he was not there for mere wealth. He had a much different goal.
He passed blades that could split mountains. Gems with enough magical power to boil oceans. Treasures that could grant wishes, raise the dead, and even change reality itself. But he passed by all of them without a second glance. His goal was a seemingly random section of wall housed between two racks filled with magical crystals, gems and jewels. He placed his hands on the wall, skilled fingers searching the cracks and grooves in the stone.
And he found it. He found what he was looking for. A hidden button smaller than a baby’s fingernail. When it was pressed, a perfectly concealed section of the wall slid open, revealing a hidden compartment. And inside was a scroll.
There were thousands of scrolls in the Vault, of course. But none like this. It looked so ordinary. Just another piece of parchment, like one could find anywhere. Even the band keeping it rolled up seemed to be plain cloth. He knew otherwise though. He knew exactly what was written on the old parchment.
He took it, slid the compartment closed, and slipped the scroll into a specially made case on his belt. Then he turned and headed back to the doors in much the same way he had arrived. He had gotten in and gotten what he came for. Now he just had to get out.
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Ooo, mysterious. I wonder what's written on the scroll. What secrets of ancient power might it hold?
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