Scattershot

[SoulTorn]

As the door finished sliding into the recesses of the thick wall, a tall Human woman, dressed in the uniform of the local militia, held up her hand before Glim could take a step forward.

"What is your business here, vermin?" she asked in a voice that was harsh and cracked.

So this was their famed Songstress Danae, thought Glim. He idly wondered how long her shift was, to cause her defensive songs to break her voice so.

Glim gazed beyond her, into the unusually dark depths of Sanctuary. "I am here to meet with Aroai," he calmly stated. She responded with a blank stare.

He worked hard to conceal his distaste of her lack of knowledge. Just as he was about to brush past her, a voice echoed from further within the structure. "Let him in, Danae. Be sure to search him first.". A single bead of sweat trickled down Glim's forehead. It was both a blessing and a curse that at least someone there knew the protocol.



After a lengthy search of his meager possessions she motioned to the guards stationed just inside the door. Glim did not see fit to point out that she had overlooked the dagger concealed in the tight sleeve of his robes. Walking into the darkened foyer of Sanctuary, he was confronted with the results of the butchery. Disdaining to acknowledge the pain and suffering around him, he walked serenely on.

As he wandered through the inner door, a thought came to him. The corridor on your left.
He swung abruptly left; heading down a narrow hallway that was slightly hidden from easy view by a massively stout column.

Flickering torches lined the walls of the new hallway. They did not appear to be the old-fashioned torches, nor did they have the aspect of technology. Glim made a mental note to inquire into their nature, when such time was available to him.

Further down the hallway he walked, his soft leather boots muffling the impact of his footfalls. He passed several closed doors, each reinforced with vyeftium. These did not contain what he sought, he knew. Though how he knew he could not say.

A brief push to his chest caused him to stop. He peered around, puzzled by the stop. Then he saw it. Barely visible beside a slender decorative column there was what appeared to be a button, set flush with the wall. Surrounding it were, indeed, thousands of other such buttons...but this was the one he needed.

Reaching out a slender hand, he pushed the button. A faint click sounded as it was fully depressed. Leaving one finger on that button, he reached as far as he could stretch and hit a second button. This one, oddly enough, pushed outward against the pressure he applied.

A slow, faint grinding sound came clearly to his finely attuned ears. He smiled briefly to himself as he continued his journey down the corridor.

If he had looked in a mirror - had one been available - he would have noticed his eyes had shifted to a milky white.