Night fell completely, cloaking the city in deep shadows punctuated by sparse, flickering lanterns in the main streets. Here, near the warehouse, darkness reigned supreme, broken only by the sliver of a moon overhead. I remained motionless on his rooftop perch, observing the two guards stationed by the warehouse door. As predicted, discipline waned with the late hour; both men were visibly dozing, heads slumped forward, their vigilance nonexistent. 'Pathetic. Complacency is a fatal flaw.'
Time to act. I descended the building's rough wall with silent, practiced ease, landing softly in the alleyway adjacent to the warehouse entrance. I needed to separate them. Reaching into the accumulated filth near the alley mouth, I found a loose brick fragment. With precise aim, I skittered it across the cobblestones further down the alley, creating a faint but distinct scraping sound, like something being dragged into the darkness. I then flattened himself against the wall just inside the alley's entrance, shrouded in absolute shadow, one of the thugs' daggers held ready in a reverse grip.
One of the guards – the slightly larger one – stirred, jerking awake. He grumbled, peering into the darkness towards the source of the sound. After a moment's hesitation, clearly annoyed but obligated, he unslung his spear (more a formality than a ready weapon) and ambled cautiously towards the alley mouth, leaving his partner still dozing. "Oi? Anyone there?" he called out gruffly, stepping just past the threshold into the deeper gloom.
Perfect. Before the guard's eyes could adjust, I exploded from the shadows behind him. One hand clamped firmly over the man's mouth, stifling any cry, while his other arm snaked around the guard's neck. I applied immediate, targeted pressure to the carotid arteries, locking in a sleeper hold. The guard tensed, realizing the attack instantly, struggling futilely against the hold, trying to stamp his feet or elbow back to alert his partner. I simply tightened his grip, maintaining the pressure while dragging the rapidly weakening man deeper into the trash-filled alley. Within seconds, the guard's struggles ceased as oxygen deprivation hit his brain. He went limp.
I lowered the unconscious man to the ground. Working quickly in the near-darkness, I've stripped the guard of his ill-fitting armor, sword, tunic, and pants, leaving him shivering in just his undergarments. I used strips torn from the guard's own tunic to bind his hands and feet securely, then stuffed another rag into his mouth as a gag. I taken the man of a small coin pouch from a hidden pocket. A quick search of the immediate area yielded the guard's sword, which I leaned against the wall for the moment. I dragged the naked, bound form further into the alley's deepest recess, covering him partially with refuse.
'One down. Now for the negligent partner.' I returned to his concealed position just inside the alley mouth, waiting.
Minutes stretched into perhaps ten or fifteen. Eventually, the second guard stirred, likely noticing his partner's prolonged absence. He stood, stretched, then peered towards the alley. "Oi! Marcus! You done checkin' shadows? Get back 'ere!" he called out, his voice carrying easily in the quiet night. No reply. With a sigh of annoyance, the second guard picked up his own sword and walked, much less cautiously than the first, towards the alley entrance. "Marcus? Stop messin' about…"
He stepped into the alley, his eyes trying to pierce the gloom. He saw the discarded spear first, then, deeper in, the unmistakable shape of his bound and naked partner. Alarm finally registered on his face. He opened his mouth to yell, simultaneously reaching for the sword at his hip.
He never got the chance. I moved again, a blur of controlled violence from the opposite side this time. Same technique: hand over mouth, carotid sleeper hold locked in instantly. This guard struggled less, succumbing even faster than the first. I efficiently Idered him unconscious, dragged him beside his partner 'Marcus', stripped him bare, bound him with his own clothes, and gagged him. I collected the second set of armor, sword, and coin pouch.
'Incompetent,' I thought with chilling detachment, surveying My handiwork. 'City guards, supposedly protectors, taken down with basic stealth and non-lethal techniques. Is security this lax throughout the city, or is this district simply considered beneath proper policing? Useful either way.'
Before approaching the warehouse door, I recalled spotting two other figures lurking nearby earlier – likely Skinner's underlings keeping a loose watch or waiting for instructions. I needed to neutralize any potential witnesses or interfeIce before attempting entry. I quickly donned a crude disguise, but sufficient in the darkness – and tucked away the swords, keeping the daggers accessible. I smeared some grime from the alley wall onto his face and clothes, then shuffled out, adopting the posture of a down-on-his-luck beggar.
I spotted them easily – the same two men from the market square, trying to look inconspicuous near a closed market stall across the street. I ambled towards them, projecting weariness and poverty. "Spare a coin? Anything? Haven't eaten…" I mumbled, keeping his head down initially.
They eyed him with suspicion, their hands instinctively moving towards their weapons. Night was falling, and beggars near a potentially sensitive location were inheItly suspect. "Get lost, vagrant," one of them snarled.
I looked up, letting them see my grimy face,"Please… just some scraps…"
Suspicion warred with contempt on their faces. The first thug, the more aggressive one, sneered cruelly. "Alright, maybe… you wanna earn some food? Do somethin' for me first…" He grinned maliciously, clearly intending some degrading task or perhaps just wanting to beat me or kill up for amusement while they waited.
"Yes! Anything!" I replied, injecting desperate eagerness into my voice.
The thug chuckled and took a step forward, raising a fist to deliver a casual blow. "First, let's teach you some manners…"
Before the punch could even begin its trajectory, I moved. my hidden dagger, gripped tightly, lashed out from beneath my beggar's pose. Not a slash, but a direct, powerful thrust aimed precisely at the man's throat, crushing the larynx and severing major vessels. A choked, wet gurgle was the only sound as blood erupted. The man collapsed instantly, eyes wide with shock and sudden death.
The second thug reacted a split second later, shock morphing into rage and fear. "You bastard!" he roared, drawing his own short sword with surprising speed. He cursed, I fluently swung wildly.
'Sloppy. Emotional reaction overriding technique,' I analyzed even as he moved. I dodged the first angry slash easily. As the thug recovered for another swing, I threw the dagger from my left hand – not the one used for the throat stab – aiming it low, towards the man's leg. It was a feint, a distraction. The thug instinctively flinched, his sword dipping slightly to parry the perceived threat.
That fraction of a second was all I needed. I surged forward, closing the distance inside the sword's effective range. my right hand, holding the bloodied dagger used on the first man, snapped upward in a vicious, targeted thrust. I bypassed the hastily recovering sword arm, driving the blade deep into the man's exposed armpit, angling upward towards the heart and lungs.
The thug gasped, a look of utter disbelief on his face as the blade sheared through muscle and found vital organs. The sword clattered from his nerveless fingers. I twisted the dagger brutally before withdrawing it, stepping back as the man crumpled to the ground, dead before he fully hit the cobblestones.
Silence descended again, broken only by the distant city hum. I quickly dragged the two bodies into the deepest shadows of another nearby alley, retrieving his thrown dagger from the second thug's leg where it had embedded harmlessly in thick leather padding. I wiped his blades clean on their tunics before searching them, finding only a few more copper coins and crude knive.
I returned to the warehouse door, now clad partially in guard armor,,having eliminated four potential threats within half an hour. I examined the heavy wooden door. Solid construction, reinforced with iron bands. I tried the handle.
Locked. As predicted. 'Now, how to get inside?'
I quckly knocked on the door