Daron felt the weight of
the impending mission. Heavy resistance, connections beyond the city –
it all pointed to something more than just common thieves. Something
larger was simmering beneath the surface, and he knew they had to get to
the bottom of it.
Joren
broke the silence, placing a hand on Daron's shoulder. "We can do this,
partner. This isn't the first time we've taken on a dangerous job."
Daron nodded slowly. "Yes, but this time it feels different. There's something going on, and I wish I knew what."
"Whatever it is," Joren said with a crooked smile, "we'll find out, and then we'll do what we always do: restore order."
With
one last glance at Lysara—who was already absorbed in her papers—the
two left the office. Daron took a deep breath as they walked down the
corridor. They had no time to lose.
"Let's move," he finally said as they headed toward the armory. "Silver Harbor isn't going to wait for us."
The
golems were already waiting at the gate, ready to begin their deadly
march through the streets of Elaris. The mission had begun.
Daron
and Joren stepped out of the Shadow Watch, where one of the imposing
carriages of the Shadow Guard awaited them. These techno-magical
vehicles were a symbol of the Guard's efficiency and power—a perfect
blend of old craftsmanship and cutting-edge techno-magical finesse. The
Shadow Guard used them not only for their speed and mobility but also
for their symbolic meaning: they represented unyielding order and
constant surveillance.
Unlike
the elegant and appealing city carriages, the Shadow Guard's coaches
exuded cold strength. Their exteriors were made of reinforced metal,
black as night and interlaced with violet and bluish shimmering glyphs
that kept the magic flowing and provided additional protection. A soft
hum of magic was audible, but it carried a deeper, darker tone
reminiscent of the Guard's determination.
The
carriage's wheels didn't touch the ground but hovered a few centimeters
above it, allowing the massive, blade-like contours of the structure to
glide silently over the streets of Elaris. A steady, faint vapor rose
from the lower parts of the carriage as the magical systems activated,
enveloping the vehicle in a mystical aura.
Joren grinned as he looked at the carriage. "These things always look so intimidating, even when they're just standing still."
Daron nodded in agreement. "They're meant to show that we're always on the move, always ready."
The
carriage door opened with a gentle hiss, and Daron and Joren climbed
inside. The interior was spartan—quite the opposite of the more
luxurious coaches of the Palace. Here, everything was designed for
function: armored walls, sturdy seats, and a cockpit with crystal
controls that linked the driver to the carriage's magical systems.
"Let's
get going," murmured Daron as the carriage set off silently. The golems
accompanying them followed without a sound, their massive feet barely
making contact with the ground, yet leaving heavy, shimmering tracks
behind.
The Shadow
Guard carriage glided noiselessly through the streets of Industria,
powered by techno-magical energies humming deep within its core. Daron
and Joren sat side by side, silently feeling the steady rhythm of the
journey through the city. Outside, on every side of the carriage, the
massive golems of the Iron Guard marched with slow, powerful steps that
made the earth tremble with each impact. The enormous stone creatures,
brought to life by magic and technology, exuded a presence as menacing
as it was reassuring.
Joren
glanced at the golems and shook his head slightly. "No matter how often
I see them, they still make me nervous. It feels as if they could crush
us just as easily as our enemies."
Daron nodded. "Terrifying, yes. But undeniably effective. I only hope they stay on our side."
The
golems, encased in a mix of stone and metal, were etched with fine rune
lines that glowed bluishly as energy coursed through their massive
bodies. They embodied the power that united the Iron Guard and the
Shadow Guard—a joint weapon against chaos and threats. Their enormous
arms, from which delicate puffs of steam occasionally emerged, seemed
ready for battle at any moment.
The
landscape of Elaris changed as the carriage glided along the river. The
waterway was the city's pulsing backbone, lined with trading ships and
airships ferrying goods through the city. Many of the vessels, like the
carriage, were powered by techno-magical energies; their metallic
surfaces glittered in the sunlight as they moved nearly silently over
the water. Every now and then, steam would rise—a relic of days when the
city was not so deeply entwined with techno-magical innovations.
Above
the streets, almost majestically, airships with enormous, shimmering
domes drifted gently, powered by the same magic that propelled the
Shadow Guard's carriages. Their shadows fell like giant clouds over the
city and its streets as they docked to unload new cargo from the ravaged
lands.
"Look at
that," Joren said, pointing at an especially large freighter moored at
an air dock. "These ships supply the entire city. And now, a handful of
thieves is turning everything upside down."
Daron frowned. "It's not just theft. They know exactly where to hit Elaris where it hurts. They want chaos to spread."
The
carriage crossed a wide bridge spanning the river as it neared Silver
Harbor. The atmosphere changed noticeably. Where one would normally hear
the bustling commerce and the shouts of dockworkers, now there was an
ominous silence. The docks—once the heart of Elaris's trade—appeared
frozen, empty, and abandoned.
"Too quiet," Daron said softly, his eyes sharply scanning the deserted streets. "Something isn't right here."
Joren
nodded as his gaze swept over the abandoned quays. "The Thieves' Guild
has entrenched itself well here. We need to be cautious."
When
the carriage finally halted at the edge of the harbor, the door opened
with a soft hiss. Daron and Joren stepped out, the massive golems
following closely and immediately positioning themselves at their sides.
Silver Harbor lay before them. The normally bustling quays—where
merchants and sailors busied themselves—were deserted.
Instinctively, Daron reached for the hilt of his sword and took a deep breath. "Time to assess the situation."
"This
isn't right," Joren whispered, his voice barely more than a muted echo
in the oppressive silence. He looked toward the empty docks: the usually
busy warehouses were locked up as if they had sealed themselves off,
and high above, unmanned ships cast gloomy shadows over the harbor from
the floating cranes. "Look at that – where are the people? The usual
hustle, the constant noise – everything is wiped out. Stay alert,
Daron."
A cold shiver
ran down Daron's spine. "Golems, cover our backs," he commanded in a
firm, controlled tone. The massive golems followed, their runes glowing
as they formed an impenetrable wall of stone and metal, the bluish gleam
of the runes lighting up in the dusk.
With
a tense look, Daron pointed at the side of a warehouse where strange
symbols were scrawled at irregular intervals. "Over there – check out
these markings. Can you decipher them?"
Stepping
closer, he examined the engraved runes that looked familiar – the
unmistakable emblem of the Thieves' Guild leader. "This is definitely
his mark. It suggests that something big is underway. It's odd that they
would display their presence so openly."
Daron
pulled a small, glowing device from his pocket, its display flickering
in soft blue and violet hues. "My scanner isn't picking up any life
signs in this warehouse. It's as if the entire place has fallen into an
icy slumber. Let's go in."
With
a determined kick, Joren pushed open the heavy door, its clanging metal
breaking the silence—and behind it revealed a gloomy, abandoned
interior.
They combed
through the warehouse as the faint hum of an unknown device filled the
space. "Damn, look at this," Joren murmured, pointing at a strange
apparatus that vibrated softly and emitted an ominous hum.
"My
scanner's acting up," grumbled Daron, irritated as the display
flickered to red. "We're losing track—it seems they've arranged
everything so we can't tell what's going on."
Without
hesitation, Joren drew his sword. In a swift, decisive movement, he
split the device in two. "Problem solved, or not?" he asked with a
crooked smile that offered little comfort.
Daron
shook his head and looked around. "This can't be all. Why leave the
entire area so unguarded? This is a trap. My scanner is still
malfunctioning."
Suddenly,
a loud, panicked scream shattered the tense silence. A woman burst
through a hidden side door, her face twisted with fear as she screamed,
"Help! They're attacking us! They've captured my colleagues!"
From
the shadows emerged two burly figures—henchmen of the Thieves' Guild,
their malicious expressions revealed in the dim light. "Hold it, little
one! Escape is futile!" one thundered, but when he saw the determined
faces of Daron and Joren, he flinched.
Without
hesitation, the Shadow Guardians stepped in front of the terrified
woman. As one of the attackers charged her, Daron reacted immediately.
Spinning with a razor-sharp flourish, his rapier whistled as its blade
precisely struck the attacker's shoulder. Joren drew his pistol, and a
single, well-aimed shot sent the second assailant crashing to the
ground, motionless.
"Is he still alive?" Joren asked quickly.
"Yeah, but he's only lightly injured," Daron replied coolly as he swiftly tied up the unconscious man.
Turning
to the woman, whose eyes still shone with terror, Daron said
reassuringly, "You're safe now. We're here to clear the docks of these
scum—and to rescue your crew."
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With
a trembling voice, she replied, "Thank you... thank you for helping me!
Please, my people—they're being held at the far end of the docks. You
have to help them!"
Daron stepped closer to Maria, gently taking her trembling hand. "I'm Daron. Calm down. Tell us what happened—you're safe now."
"My
name is Maria," she began, pausing to take a shaky breath, "it was
terrible. They came at night, held weapons to our heads, and demanded we
go to the 'Goldwing'—the ship, it only returned yesterday. Marcus
refused, and then... they just killed him." She sobbed, shaking her head
in despair. "You must help, please!"
Daron stood beside Maria, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Maria, take a deep breath. You're safe now."
After
giving Maria a moment to collect herself, Daron turned to Joren. "My
scanner isn't working at all here. It's as if they deliberately
sabotaged our systems. I suspect there are more of these devices –
either someone from Industria is working with the guild or the influence
comes from outside."
"Or maybe it's connected to the incident in Aranthia," Joren replied thoughtfully, as Daron briefly thought of Valara.
"Let's
interrogate the prisoner," Daron said, quickly looking around to ensure
no one else posed a threat. Only when he was sure the area was secure
did he tap the bound man with the tip of his boot.
The
prisoner stared silently at him, beads of sweat glistening on his
forehead. Joren knelt beside him and said mockingly, "Do you even know
who you're dealing with? Silence won't help you."
In a trembling voice, the man muttered, "I won't tell you anything. I'd rather die..."
"Dying would be an easy way out for you," Joren retorted with a grin.
Daron
met his gaze intently. "We have our methods to extract the truth." He
lifted a small, sparkling vial. "Do you know what this is? Medusa
extract. It paralyzes your limbs and severs your nerves – you remain
alive, but in excruciating, frozen agony." Calmly, he dripped a little
onto his rapier and slowly brought the sharp blade to the prisoner's
wound. "Do you really want to keep silent?"
Suddenly, the man burst out in panic, "Stop! What do you want to know?"
"How many of you are there? What are you planning?" Daron demanded unequivocally.
With
a quivering voice, the man answered, "We are twenty. Our mission is to
plunder the ship. We were ordered to take anything valuable and to keep
an eye out for a small, golden orb."
"Where are your men stationed?" Daron pressed.
"At the dock before the ship. We've barricaded ourselves with the dockworkers – please..."
Losing
patience, Joren struck the prisoner sharply on the temple. Shortly
after, he collapsed unconscious. He wouldn't be able to tell us any
more.
Joren eyed the vial, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Medusa extract? Are you sure?"
Daron smiled slightly. "Of course not. He didn't know it was just an Alrun tincture."
Turning
to Maria, who was still trembling, Daron said, "Stay here. You're
safest here. We'll take care of the rest and free your people."
He added reassuringly, "Stay here. You're safest here. We'll get your crew out."
Joren, looking skeptically toward the dock, said, "We should get an overview first. Without a functioning scanner, we're blind."
Daron nodded. "Stick close to me – we approach carefully."
Crouching
low, they moved silently through the dark shadows between crates and
warehouses. They halted at a suitable cover. Cautiously, Daron peered
out and scanned the dock area.
"I
count twenty men, split into three groups," he murmured after a brief
observation. "The largest group is holding the prisoners right by the
ship. If we deploy the golems skillfully, we can lure most of the
attackers away."
"Good plan," Joren whispered. "Two golems as a diversion. We strike as soon as they react."
Daron raised his hand and signaled the two massive golems, which began moving silently toward the area.
The two Shadow Guards waited tensely, ready to seize their chance as soon as the distraction took effect.
The
golems moved quietly to a secluded quay. Their massive forms emerged
threateningly from the shadows. Suddenly, with destructive force, they
began tearing apart crates and barrels. The deafening crash echoed over
the silent docks. Wood splintered, metal bent, and panic instantly
spread among the attackers.
"What the hell is that?" one man shouted in horror.
"Back off, you idiots!" another yelled frantically as several henchmen, weapons drawn, charged at the golems.
"The diversion is working," Joren whispered contentedly.
"Then let's move," Daron replied tersely.
Crouching
low, the two Shadow Guards crept cautiously through the icy darkness
between crates, barrels, and abandoned warehouses. The damp chill of the
harbor seeped into their clothes, each breath forming white mist, while
in the distance the creak of an approaching airship could be heard.
Suddenly,
Daron raised his hand and halted abruptly. In the shadows stood another
enemy, nervously glancing between the prisoners and the battleground.
Daron froze for a moment, pressing himself against the damp wall, hand
already gripping his rapier's hilt tightly. The man eyed them
suspiciously and took a step forward – but a loud bang caused by one of
the golems made him spin around. Seizing the moment, Joren fired a
silent, precise shot. The man crumpled silently before he could raise an
alarm.
Shortly
afterward, they reached their objective unseen: they observed from the
shadows the position of the prisoners. About six men were nervously
standing guard, weapons at the ready, their eyes shifting uneasily
between the captives and the distant golems.
"Hopefully the golems will hold out long enough," Joren whispered tensely.
"They will," Daron replied firmly. "Ready? Now!"
Both
leaped from the shadows simultaneously. Daron elegantly whirled his
rapier, its silver blade flashing through the moonlight as it
incapacitated the first opponent. At the same moment, Joren fired
precise shots that reliably felled their targets. Within moments, most
of the surprised guards were either neutralized or fleeing.
At
that moment, the golems approached again. Their heavy steps made the
pier tremble as they advanced purposefully on the remaining enemies. The
magical runes on their stony bodies shone brightly. With a powerful
movement, one golem grabbed an attacker, effortlessly lifting him and
hurling him thunderously against a stack of crates, which then
splintered apart. The second golem stomped the ground – a magical
shockwave spread out, knocking the remaining foes to the ground in a
daze.
"Hurry, you're
free!" Daron called to the bound dockworkers as he skillfully cut
through their restraints with precise rapier strikes.
One
of the dockworkers looked up at Daron with tearful eyes. "We... we
thought no one would help us anymore... Can we really trust you?"
Daron
placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and replied in a firm tone,
"We belong to the Shadow Guard. You're safe now. Stick close to us;
we'll get you out of here."
Joren
maintained a vigilant watch, keeping the last enemies lurking in the
shadows at bay with his drawn pistol. Daron quickly led the dockworkers
through the dark alleys, while the two massive golems, their runes now
glowing, formed a protective barrier to ensure no one followed.
After
the last skirmishes faded, the golems still stood unyieldingly on the
quay. Their stony bodies were bathed in a faint, bluish glow from the
magical runes. Around their feet lay scattered debris of wood and metal,
and hardly any foes stirred. Anyone who dared oppose them was
effortlessly subdued—as if they were mere toys in the hands of these
gigantic, unstoppable guardians.
Daron
briskly escorted the freed dockworkers back to Maria, who waited in the
shadows with a pale face and trembling hands. When she recognized her
colleagues, tears of relief streamed down her face.
"You're alive... you're free!" she whispered gratefully.
"We keep our promises," Daron reassured her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "You were strong. From now on, you're safe."
Joren,
still scanning the surroundings, said, "I'll get reinforcements from
the Shadow Watch so we can secure the docks completely and evacuate the
survivors." His gaze shifted one last time over Maria and the
dockworkers. "Take good care of yourselves."
"Hurry
up," Daron said sternly, his eyes scanning the area. The chaotic clamor
around the golems was gradually subsiding; only isolated shouts and
footsteps could be heard until finally, calm prevailed.
Soon
after, Joren returned with a squad of heavily armed Shadow Guards,
their techno-magical armor softly shimmering in the darkness. Swiftly
and efficiently, they began arresting the remaining foes and securing
the quay.
"Lysara has been informed," Joren reported briefly. "The docks are back under control."
Daron
nodded gratefully but then looked thoughtfully toward the ship. "Before
we leave, we should check out the Goldwing. There might be answers
waiting for us there."
Daron
and Joren cautiously boarded the ship. Inside the Goldwing, the weak
glow of the techno-magical emergency lights cast an almost ghostly
atmosphere. A musty scent of salt and aged metal permeated the air,
mixed with a faint aroma of grease and something foreign, almost
electric. The techno-magical lamps, usually providing bright
illumination, flickered weakly and cast diffuse shadows across the
rust-colored metal walls.
With
practiced vigilance, they meticulously searched every berth, quietly
opening creaking cupboard doors and inspecting crates—some locked, some
ajar. Suddenly, Joren stopped abruptly and ran his fingers along a wall.
"Daron, look at this."
He
tapped gently against the metallic panel, which sounded hollow. With a
swift movement, he loosened an almost invisible wall plate. Behind it
lay a hidden compartment, its interior pulsing faintly in shades of blue
and red.
"There's
something here," Joren whispered in fascination as he carefully reached
in. His hand uncovered several techno-magical devices, their intricate
surfaces covered in delicate, pulsating glyphs.
Daron
stepped beside him and studied the apparatus closely. "These are
exactly the same devices that blocked our scanners. This technology is
clearly too advanced for ordinary thieves."
"A powerful patron, then," Joren murmured. "That makes things even more complicated."
Examining
one of the devices more intently, the pulsing light reflected faintly
in his serious eyes. "And more dangerous. Lysara must be informed
immediately about what we're dealing with."
With
one last scrutinizing glance, they packed the devices away and
hurriedly left the ship. Daron sensed that this was just the tip of the
iceberg—the beginning of a much larger threat lurking in the shadows.
"Daron,
look at this," Joren murmured, holding one of the devices aloft in
fascination. "These are exactly the same things that disabled our
scanners."
Daron
carefully took the device from him, turned it over in his hands, and
squinted thoughtfully. "This technology is far too advanced for ordinary
thieves. Someone with great power is deliberately backing them." He set
it down and sighed deeply. "We need to report this to Lysara. The
prisoners surely know more."
"The
interrogation is scheduled for tomorrow morning," Joren said. "Let's
head back to the Shadow Watch and file our reports. I think we've done
enough for today."
Daron
nodded wearily, feeling the fatigue settle deep into his bones. For a
moment, his thoughts drifted again to Maria and the suffering her crew
had endured. "We did good today. I shudder to think what those bastards
would have done to Maria and her people if we hadn't arrived in time."
Joren
smiled gently and clapped him on the shoulder. "Oh, you hero – at least
let's celebrate with a drink at Minora tonight. And you're picking, of
course."
A slight smile crossed Daron's face. "Maybe even two. You didn't fight half bad today."
"Not half bad? I saved your life at least twice!" Joren playfully protested.
"I know," Daron replied quietly and seriously. "Thanks for that."
They
exchanged a knowing smile before setting off together toward the Shadow
Watch. As they walked through the nocturnal streets, the silence of the
night settled over them like a soft blanket. Only the distant hum of
techno-magical streetlights and the far-off sound of crashing waves
accompanied their steps.
"Do
you think the Thieves' Guild is connected to the murder in Aranthia?"
Joren asked thoughtfully as they made their way back to the Shadow
Watch. "Their equipment was exceptionally advanced – too advanced for
mere hoodlums."
Daron
paused for a moment, gazing into the darkness. "I wonder the same. This
high-tech gear suggests that someone powerful is operating in the
background. The question is: who benefits from keeping us and the city
in the dark? Perhaps someone wants to deliberately sow chaos, and the
murder in Aranthia is somehow linked."
"So
you believe there's a connection between the Thieves' Guild, the
Aranthia murder, and that mysterious elder?" Joren asked gravely.
Daron
nodded slowly, his expression hardening. "I'm not sure. A dangerous
game is being played here—powerful figures are pulling the strings from
behind the scenes, and the thieves are merely pawns on a larger board.
Today, we only scratched the surface."
Joren sighed deeply and replied with a grim look, "Then we're in for hard times."
"I
fear so too," Daron said calmly. "We don't even know our enemies at
this point. Hopefully, after the interrogation tomorrow morning, things
will become clearer. And then we'll finally discover what's really going
on."
"Then we'd
better be well prepared," Joren said determinedly as they stepped
through the gate of the Shadow Watch to file their report and brace
themselves for the challenges ahead.