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"So, tell me again why we're doing this after all we've been through the last few days?" Jinn asked in a harsh whisper as he and the other three members of the guild clung to the shadows between two buildings.

Petrus looked worriedly at Albert. Though the half-elf was normally quite boisterous about how far his skills had come along in recent months since joining up with them, this would be his first big heist. The armed guards unnerved him, and he shook visibly in the warm summer night. Dougal was well aware that the youth was terrified, but that's what he was counting on. He hoped that his fear would help him run when the time was right. An overconfident thief would tire, but someone who was scared could run forever.

Albert, on the other hand, was entirely accustomed to seeing armed guards, though this would be the first time he'd be helping deal with them. The dwarf had been given a small knife to hold on to for protection, though in typical fatherly fashion, Dougal had told him that he could only draw the weapon if it meant the difference between life and death.

"It's because I refuse to give up on a job," Dougal replied, urged by Isaac's insistence. They had come too far and spent too long in Altair to leave empty handed. They were only two fragments away from finishing their task. "Besides, stealing a Sylvan artifact and a rare sword is an easy enough task."

"And the guards?" Petrus asked, his voice quavering.

"A mere trifle to deal with." Dougal checked his potion belt, where he kept a number of glass vials strapped in leather harnesses for quick access in case he needed a quick antidote for poison or a grease slick to slow pursuers. It wasn't a habit of his to double check whether he had all his tools with him or not, but even he had to admit that the increased security was making him quite a bit nervous.

The manor before them was huge, much more so than Lord Astor's home had been. Supposedly, the man that lived there was an important councilor in charge of the city's commerce. That meant he had deep pockets, ones that seemed to call out to Dougal.

_ Whatever other treasure this man has is peanuts compared to what we're really after, _ Isaac admonished him. Dougal could feel the sting behind those words, as though he were being scolded like a child. _ Our focus is the Sylvan artifact. That one treasure could change our lives more than all the gold in the world. _

"We've been waiting here for an hour. When are we going to make our move?" Albert whined as he paced around. Jinn reminded him to keep quiet and to stop moving so much, something he'd said numerous times since they'd taken up their watch, but the dwarf was incapable of listening to such a simple command.

"It's almost time," Dougal said. He looked skyward and squinted to get a better look in the dark. He could barely make out a large cloud that was drifting towards the moon. He was waiting for the light to be blotted out so he could get into position. A lot of the Mithril Blades looked to be humans and half-elves, and they would lack the night vision that elves had. Dougal would have the advantage. All he needed to do was wait.

A half hour later, the streets were nearly pitch black as the thick cloud drifted in front of the moon. The only light that remained were the sparsely placed street lamps that flickered dimly. Dougal blinked his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. He could still see fairly clearly thanks to his dwarven sight, but it wasn't very far and it was only in black and white.

"Alright," Dougal whispered as he turned to his companions, "We're moving out. You three understand the plan?"

Albert and Petrus nodded emphatically, then grinned when they looked at Jinn. The gnoll was oblivious to their stares, but he understood his role. All he had to do was secure their escape route and make sure the Mithril Blades didn't surround them.

Only Dougal would be going into the manor. He needed to be able to access a second story window to get where he wanted to go, and he had some experience with scaling walls. Due to Jinn's large frame and the way his legs bent, he would not be able to accompany the dwarf. This time, Dougal was all on his own, in a manor full of Mithril Blades.

_ This job will be a piece of cake. What are you so worried about? _Isaac asked, his words startling the dwarf. He could feel his father's dominance spreading through his mind. _ Let me take control of your body. I can be in and out in half the time. _

And with a pile of dead bodies behind you, Dougal shot back. Shut up and watch, I can do this myself.

To say that he was nervous would be an understatement. He swallowed hard, and nodded to the others before he took off down the street. He took the long way around, his footfalls silent like a cat's, and moved to get into position at the rear of the manor.

* * * * *

Albert counted down the seconds since Dougal left them. When he reached six hundred, he looked up to see the moon still obscured. It was likely going to rain, which would help cover their tracks later.

"Alright, let's get this over with," he said with a sigh of resignation.

Petrus gave a grin that could hardly be seen in the shadows. "Scared?"

"Only a fool would not be scared of doing this," Albert replied. "Wait here for us, Jinn. We might need help if things go south."

The gnoll grunted a response. "I don't take orders from you, pup. I'm waiting only because that's what Dougal ordered me to do."

Albert and Petrus took off down the alley way, running as fast as they could. Their hearts were racing, but it wasn't from the sprint. They came up to the manor's gates across from their hiding place, screaming for someone to help them.

"There's a monster over there!" Petrus wailed, pointing behind him. "We're being chased! Help!"

A few guards within earshot turned to look at the commotion, surprised to see children awake at such a late hour. They were hesitant to move and help, as doing so would force them to abandon their posts.

"Look, kid," one man said, kneeling down to look him in the eyes, "There's nothing out there. Why don't you and your friend run along and-"

"But sir, you have to believe us!" Albert assured him. He grabbed the man's wrist and tugged, trying to make him budge. "There really is a monster in there! It tried to eat us!"

The man was about to give a response when someone else shouted, "Sir, there is something! It's the gnoll from the other day!"

"What?" the guard looked up and indeed, now he could see the vague shape of something there. An arrow zipped by, trying to strike Jinn but it missed. The gnoll came bounding out of the shadows and ran off.

"Damn it Dougal!" he shouted in frustration as he dropped to all fours and sped off. He was going to make the dwarf pay for springing such a cruel trick on him.

Whistles filled the air and guards drew their weapons as they took off after the gnoll. All the guards near the gates ran off, hoping for an easy catch that would net them a year's worth of pay in a single bounty. Replacements came out of the manor and watched the front doors in large numbers as soldiers one-by-one reinforced the homes defenses while the others chased after the fugitive gnoll.

Later, when someone would inquire about the children who claimed to have been chased by the gnoll, they found that the two youths were already gone.

Somewhere up on the second floor, a window opened almost noiselessly as a dwarf crawled inside.

As Dougal clambered into the manor, he checked to make sure there were no guards inside the hallway. He didn't see any, and unfortunately the noises outside made it impossible to hear if anyone was moving about. Perhaps they hadn't thought to guard the upper floor? If so, it would be a foolish mistake on their part.

_ Don't make any assumptions! _ snapped Isaac, jarring Dougal into attention. How many years had it been since the night his father died? He doubted he would ever get used to having the other man's thoughts and words in his mind. The man rarely spoke, and that made it only more distracting when he did speak up.

In the distance he could hear the sound of a snarling, raging beast just before he shut the window. Despite the fact that he'd just put his best friend in danger by not telling him the whole plan, he couldn't help but smile and try to suppress a laugh. He was bound to hear about it later, but he knew that Jinn would be fine. Dougal refocused his mind the task at hand: securing the treasure and getting out alive.

With trained skill, Dougal flitted from the window towards the darkened walls. He avoided the middle of the hallway in the hopes that the edges of the wooden floor wouldn't creak nearly as much. He came to the end and peaked around the corner, spotting a guard walking around and looking nervously at the windows. With the man distracted by the commotion going on outside, Dougal took the opportunity to slip his pack off his back and dig into one of the pouches for a dart and a thin laminated wooden tube.

He set the blowdart down and grabbed a vial off his belt. It was no more than a few drops of a grey liquid, but it's potency meant that it was more than enough for what Dougal needed. The stopper came off easily and he dipped the tip of the dart into the poison. It wasn't designed to injure or kill someone, but it was capable of paralyzing someone temporarily. He didn't want to risk using his magic this time, just in case someone nearby could sense it. The last thing he wanted to deal with was being chased before he had secured the artifact.

The guard continued to come closer, but he was still stopping periodically to look out the windows to try and see what was going on. Dougal set the dart within the blowpipe and crouched against the wall. He looked over his shoulder periodically to see how close the guard was getting.

The distance between them looked to be about twenty feet. In the darkness, Dougal would need him to get nearly on top of him to be able to find a spot to hit him with the dart. The guard passed the window and went back to his patrol, moving closer to Dougal's hiding spot.

The leather of the dwarf's boots squeaked as he shifted his weight, and the man stopped.

"Who's there?"

Close enough, Dougal thought grimly. He pressed the tube against his lips and aimed as he leaned around the corner, firing the dart at the man's exposed neck with remarkable precision.

The man gasped and staggered as the poison entered his veins before he began to totter to the ground. Dougal had to move fast to catch him. As he got under the large man to ease his fall, the dwarf realized his error and had to make a choice. Either let the man fell on him and risk injury, or let him fall to the ground with a crash that would likely wake everyone in the mansion up.

_ Let me do it! _

No!

Isaac attempted to assert control at that moment, and prevented Dougal from worming his way out from under the man. Had he been more agile and a bit stronger, he would have been able to execute the maneuver flawlessly. His lack of finesse resulted in the man collapsing on his left arm and chest. Pain flared up Dougal's chest and into his chest, and he repressed the choked grunt of pain that threatened to come out. The wind was knocked out of him as he was crushed beneath the unconscious guard, and he remained there for a moment until he could breathe properly.

That could have gone better, Dougal thought as he wormed his way out from under the guard. He rubbed his shoulder and frowned. He'd be feeling sore in the morning.

Dougal tucked his tools back in his pack and took off down the hall. Freya had looked at the manor before they'd arrived, and said that the master bedroom was on the southern side of the building, looking over the lake just outside the city.

After navigating the halls for a few minutes more, Dougal finally found his destination. The door to the bedroom had another guard outside of it. Another dart did him in, and luckily for Dougal this man was much smaller than the first. He got him to the ground without much trouble. At last, he had safe access to Roygan's bedroom.

Never felt so happy to get into another man's bedroom, Dougal thought dryly as his expert fingers worked his lockpicks as quickly and silently as possible to get the door open.

Stepping inside, the dwarf saw the large, luxurious bed where the lord and lady of the house slept. They had a lace curtain pulled closed around the entire bed, and from within Dougal could hear one of them snoring. He couldn't see inside the bed, but they probably couldn't see through the curtains either. Hopefully they would stay that way, Dougal thought.

Now then, where would they hide the Sylvan fragment? Dougal scanned the room, his eyes first falling to the end tables on either side of the bed. No, too obvious and a tad too small.

There was an elegant, wooden chest at the foot of the bed, with golden filigree on its surface. An armoire was laid up against the side wall to the left of the bed. The fireplace was lit with a dim fire still consuming the mostly charred wood. Photos and paintings were hung up on the walls, and a large mirror was set up next to the armoire.

The chest and the armoire are far too obvious as well.

_ Behind the painting, _ Isaac said, his words coming off more as a command than a suggestion._ Cliched and tacky, but a perfect place to hide something from those who aren't looking for it. _

As he crossed the room, something caught Dougal's eye out of the corner of his vision. A suit of armor was set up on one side of the room, next to a window. It was elegant and for nothing more than show. The suit's gauntlets rested on the pommel of a sword that was planted into the marble base of the stand.

Looks like we have one half of what we're here for.

As the dwarf drew closer to the sword, he could begin to sense the magical aura coming from the scabbard, removing any doubt about whether it was the simulacron sword. It called to him, and like a starving animal, he hungered to hold it. Dougal licked his lips and stepped towards it and examined the suit. He didn't expect that it would fall down if he took the sword out, but even as he gripped the handle and lifted it out, he watched the armor cautiously.

He'd extricated the weapon from the suit's grasp when he felt a chill and heard footsteps walking towards the door. A burst of magical energy struck him mentally, as someone nearby began to work a spell. Without taking the time to look, Dougal leapt from where he stood and, upon landing, dove towards the window. He ended his journey with a tumble behind the curtains.

The door flew off it's hinges, blasted open by a wave of arcane force that had Dougal surprised at how powerful it was. It was almost suffocating, like someone or something malevolent was gripping his throat and squeezing nearly to the point of crushing his windpipe. The tattoo on his stomach burned like he was about to be incinerated.

_ Damn it, we were so close! _Isaac screamed. Dougal insisted for the voice to be silent.

He crouched low against the wall. He was scarcely aware of the pitter-patter of rain against the window pane as he hid, trying to stay out of sight.

The power the sorcerer threw around so freely had caught Isaac's attention. _ How can a human have that much power? _ He spoke with a curiosity that belied the danger of the situation. Did he think he could just get up to ask this person where their power had come from? Dougal was terrified, never before having seen someone with so much magic at their beck and call. But feelings of curiosity washed over him from Isaac's corner of his mind, threatening to take control.

Dougal clamped down on his fear, trying to keep control of his body. If he moved, he was dead, that much was certain. No matter how much experience Isaac had shared with him, this was beyond anything he had seen in his life. He was outmatched, and he needed an opportunity to get out.

The lord of the house was awake, and his wife clung to her bedding as she held it against her body. She leaned in close to her husband, seeking safety in his arms, and stared at the stranger coming into the room.

"Who dares to intrude on my home!?" the elf shouted. He leaned closer and blinked, trying to focus his half-closed eyes. "Cormac? Is that you?"

"Good evening, your Lordship," spoke a raspy voice. "And to you, Lady Roygan. I hope you're both doing well."

Wait a minute, isn't he the man who put a bounty out on Jinn and I? Dougal tried to think back to when they were chased by the Mithril Blades, trying to piece together the shattered memories he had from that night to see whether it was the same noble or not. Everything from that day was so muddied, he could scarcely remember anything prior to waking up in Maika's home.

"Time is short, so I won't waste too much more of it. I'm seeking something of value. I'm sure you know what it is," Cormac said.

Dougal couldn't see him, but he could hear the faint rustling of cloth as Roygan moved. He cast a glance up at the window and saw the lock sitting there. Slowly, his hand snaked upwards and undid the latch as quietly as possible, all the while listening to the conversation between Roygan and Cormac.

"Why should I listen to some frail old man like you? Get out of my damn room!" Roygan shouted, fury overtaking his more logical senses.

A low, unearthly moan echoed from down the hall, turning Dougal's blood into ice within his veins. He'd never heard anything of it's like, neither anything that he'd experienced or anything that he could remember from his father's memories. It was so unnerving that he wanted to cover his ears to block out the sound.

When the sound died down, he could still hear something clattering and scratching it's way towards them. He dared to take a glance from behind the curtain to see what was at the door. Suddenly, he wished that he hadn't looked.

A half dozen skeletons shambled towards the room. Dougal was transfixed by the sight of the undead. The stories that Jinn had told him about the Darkpaw gnoll's horrible powers over life and death had been terrifying but nothing more than stories. Seeing the walking dead not only moving towards him, but wielding weapons, was one of the most terrifying things that he'd ever seen.

The skeletons' bones were still bloodied and he could see bits of decaying skin hanging off, like the skin off an over-cooked chicken. Their teeth were rotted and their hollow eyes stared in the distance with their sinister grins. They wore armor, and Dougal nearly gasped out loud when he realized that the armor belonged to the Mithril Blades. The sorcerer had killed and raised the soldiers that surrounded the house.

Dougal had to force himself to stop looking, fearing that maybe one of them might be his companions. If this sorcerer had arrived only minutes after him, he worried that Albert or Petrus or Jinn might be among the living dead. If the man was a powerful enough spellcaster to have killed and raised the dead in only a few minutes, he feared that he might not be able to get out alive.

I need to stay focused, he thought, tapping into his father's memories to help him try to find a way out of his predicament. Think, think! There has to be some way out of here without dying.

The lock on the window gave easily enough, but he'd need a moment to open it and slip out. Even a couple seconds would be more than enough time for the sorcerer to fry him where he stood, or so he reasoned.

"I won't give you anything, Cormac!" Roygan shouted. He'd risen from his bed and was making his way towards his armor stand, keeping his eyes on Cormac and his undead entourage.

Dougal looked at the sword in his hands and wondered if perhaps he should slip the object back in the man's hands. Maybe he would stand a chance? A larger part of him argued that part of the reason he'd even come to the manor was to retrieve the sword. Saving the lives of nobles, while certainly an admirable goal, was not what he came here to do.

"Hah, do you honestly think you have any choice in the matter?" Cormac said almost gleefully. He licked his lips and produced a knife of some kind from a hidden leather sheath that was concealed somewhere within his robes. He leapt forward, taking the naked man by surprise.

Cormac surprised Dougal with his impressive speed. For someone who sounded like he would have trouble breathing with his throat gurgling every time he spoke, and for someone so old looking, he was fast. Sorcery was a part of it, but the kinds of movements that Cormac was capable of executing didn't come from magic entirely. Part of it was natural skill, despite his obvious age.

The knife flashed out several times before Cormac finally landed a clean blow on Roygan. The man staggered back, yanking his sliced arm away. It didn't matter what he did, as the necromancer moved in for the kill and drove the dagger into his stomach.

"You will make a fine addition to my army, Roygan," Cormac said in a low voice. They stood right in front of Dougal, and he could hear them clearly as they spoke. He could see the thin line of blood seeping out from the stab wound.

"Run!" Roygan shouted to his wife, though Dougal felt like it was directed at him. Despite his mind screaming at him to move, his body would not obey.

He realized that it wasn't fear that held him in place, but his father's will. Isaac! Let me get out of here!

_ Not until we get what we came here for. _

Your treasure isn't worth dying.

_ Just shut up for once and stop questioning your old man. _ Dougal could feel his vision becoming more distant, as if he was being removed from his body. The sounds around them were just as close as always, but they appeared muffled. _ It's time I showed you how a real thief works. _

While Dougal and Isaac had been arguing, Cormac and his unholy entourage had dispatched both the Lord and Lady Roygan. He wiped his bloodied dagger on the bedspread and returned it to its sheath. The old man wasted no time in searching the room, tearing apart armoires, dressers, and cabinets in his search for something.

What is he doing? Dougal thought as he watched.

_ Isn't it obvious? He's after our relic! _

After several frustrating minutes, Cormac cursed and recomposed himself as he stopped to think. He was standing several feet from where Dougal was hiding, and the dwarf was terrified that he might look over at the window and see the bottoms of his boots sticking out underneath the curtains. Dougal wanted to swallow the growing lump in his throat, but he couldn't even manage that as he was forced to watch whatever it was Isaac was planning on doing.

Cormac finally decided to start tearing down the objects hanging on the walls as he searched for a hidden compartment. He eventually managed to find a small door built into the wall that was hidden behind one of Roygan's family portraits. With an incantation and a wave of his hand, the air glowed with a blue light as he magically unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Inside was an ornate looking chest, not unlike the one that Dougal and Jinn had liberated from Astor's mansion.

The dwarf's face beamed as he laid his eyes upon their prize. It was obvious what was contained in that box, and that's when Isaac decided to make his move.

Don't you think about it! Dougal scolded, trying his damndest to reassert his will over his own body. Whatever Isaac was doing was giving him complete control and was blocking him out, as though there was a solid brick wall separating Dougal's mind from his physical body.

As Isaac pulled the simulacron sword from its sheath, Cormac stood up straight, bristling at the sound. By the time he turned around, the dwarf had darted out from his hiding place and had already hacked the skulls of two skeletons while unleashing his full might against the remainder.

Arcane words flew from Isaac's mouth as blistering flames exploded from his palms, consuming the mansion and the skeletons standing around him. The all engulfing flames incinerated the bed and the Roygans' bodies as well before he finally turned to look straight into Cormac's eyes.

"Hi there. I'll be relieving you of that now," Isaac said, holding his hand out as if expecting Cormac to simply give him the box.

The man turned, sneering as he held the box under his arm to keep it away from Isaac. "Do you expect me to give it up so easily?"

"A dwarf can dream, can't he?" Isaac replied. He moved to place his hand on his hip, near his belt pouch.

Cormac paused, a grin creeping across his sagging face. "You're that Dougal that's been such a thorn in my side."

"Well, you're not wrong."

Wasting no further time with words, Isaac produced a thin vial from the pouch that he subsequently tossed onto the ground with a grunt. The glass shattered as the concoction hit the open air, creating a blinding flash of white light that filled the room.

Cormac shrieked in pain as he backed away, reaching up at his eyes. He backed into a wall and lost his grip on the chest that he held onto so dearly. Seeing his opportunity, Isaac sprang, grabbing the chest as he sheathed the blade he held. By the time Cormac regained his sight, the dwarf had already muscled his way out of the window.

_ Have fun, kid, _Isaac said before returning control of Dougal's body as the dwarf floundered his way to the ground. He hit the dirt and tried to roll but couldn't do it successfully. He twisted his right ankle inwards and heard a crack. He swore he felt the ball of his ankle touch the ground.

"Damn it!" he shouted out in his frustration. He couldn't afford to stop but it was difficult to move. He needed to get out of the manor and warn his companions.

Raising a hand towards the sky, Dougal released a flare spell into the air. The red light, signaling their retreat, illuminated the streets before it fizzled out. He hoped that the others would have seen it and would make a beeline for the Hideout as soon as they were free of the pursuing Blades.

However, Dougal couldn't worry about them at that moment. He had to hobble as quickly as he could to get away from everything. To get away from the Blades, away from the undead, and away from the sorcerer.