Demetrius leads them from the side street into the guild storehouse. Inside, the air is cold with lake salt and old timber, and every footstep stirs dust from the boards.
Tall shelves vanish into shadow. A warped side door stands ajar, and the iron lock on its bar shows fresh scrape marks from the inside.
The Lead Settler
Someone was here before us. The lock was worked from within.
The Thug drifts to the wall with his knife low, scanning the dark rafters. Charmaine stays close to Demetrius, her freed wrists held protectively against her chest.
Demetrius cloudkin
The marks are new. Whoever fled or hid here did not leave long ago.
Charmaine Liverwarr
Then we are not alone in the dark tonight.
From deeper in the storehouse, a faint scrape answers, followed by the soft shift of something breathing behind the stacked sacks.
Secure the storehouse against the intruder