Morrigan was waiting at the corner of Copper Lane and Third Circle, looking like nothing more than another late-night wanderer. She'd traded her collection of pendants for a simple dark cloak, and without the jingling charms, she moved with surprising silence.
"Punctual," she said approvingly as we approached. "Good. The window begins in ten minutes."
She led us down a narrow alley that ran behind the Ravengate Merchant's Consortium building. Up close, the structure was even more imposing than it appeared from the street—five stories of dressed stone with narrow windows and heavy iron reinforcements. The kind of building designed to keep valuable things in and unwelcome visitors out.
"Service entrance," Morrigan whispered, stopping beside a plain wooden door. "The night shift assumes anyone using this entrance has legitimate business. Confidence is key."
She produced a brass key from her cloak and inserted it into the lock. It turned smoothly, with barely a click.
"How do you have a key to—" I started.
"Questions later, dear boy. Work now."
The door opened into a service corridor lit by dim magical crystals. The air smelled of parchment and ink, with an underlying metallic tang that suggested magical wards. My Threat Assessment skill immediately activated, analyzing the environment for potential dangers.
Two guards in a room about thirty feet ahead. I could hear their low voices and the casual tone suggested they weren't on high alert. Another set of footsteps moving slowly down a different corridor, probably a routine patrol. No immediate hostility detected.
"Guards?" Kira whispered.
I held up two fingers, then pointed ahead. She nodded, understanding.
Morrigan led us down the corridor, moving with the casual confidence of someone who belonged here. Past storage rooms filled with boxes and ledgers. Down a stone staircase that descended into the building's depths. The magical lighting grew dimmer as we went deeper.
At the second sub-level, my Threat Assessment skill picked up more activity. I could hear voices and movement scattered throughout the area, but the tones suggested routine work rather than active searching. Guards stationed at key points, following predictable patterns.
"Third level," Morrigan breathed, gesturing toward another staircase.
This one was narrower, older. The stones were worn smooth by countless feet, and the air carried a musty smell that spoke of age and accumulated secrets. My new armor made no sound as we descended, the Silent Movement skill keeping our footsteps completely muffled.
The vault level was different. Instead of corridors, we entered a large chamber divided by rows of iron-barred chambers. Each vault was marked with a number and secured by both mechanical locks and glowing magical wards.
"Vault 247," Morrigan whispered, pointing toward the far end of the chamber.
I listened carefully, my Threat Assessment skill analyzing the environment. One guard at the entrance we'd just used, relaxed, probably reading something. Another stationed near the opposite end, occasionally shifting but not moving around. No active patrols in the vault area itself.
We made our way between the rows of vaults, staying low and moving quietly. The magical wards cast eerie shadows that shifted and danced as we passed. Some vaults hummed with contained energy. Others were silent as tombs.
Vault 247 was halfway down the third row. Unlike some of the others, it showed no signs of magical protection beyond a simple warding glyph. The mechanical lock was more substantial. A complex arrangement of tumblers and catches that would challenge even an experienced thief.
"Your box better be worth this," Kira muttered, examining the lock.
"Oh, it is," Morrigan replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Kira produced her lock picks and went to work. The soft scraping of metal on metal seemed loud in the silence, but my Threat Assessment skill detected no change in the guards' alertness levels. Whatever was occupying their attention, they weren't paying attention to small sounds from the vault area.
"Got it," Kira whispered after several tense minutes.
The vault door swung open with the faintest creak. Inside was a small chamber lined with shelves, each holding various containers, boxes, and wrapped objects. The organization was precise. Everything labeled, catalogued, arranged according to some system that spoke of bureaucratic efficiency.
"Third shelf, left side," Morrigan directed. "Wooden box with brass corners."
I found it quickly. The box was exactly as she'd described, roughly book-sized, dark wood reinforced with brass, and secured with a lock shaped like a raven. The label read "Property of M. Ashworth - Storage Fee Paid Through Year's End."
"This it?" I asked, lifting the box carefully.
"That's it," Morrigan confirmed. "Now we—"
My Threat Assessment skill suddenly screamed warning. Multiple people approaching fast, their movements coordinated and purposeful. Not the casual pace of routine patrols - this was a deliberate response to something.
"Company," I hissed. "Multiple guards, coming this way fast."
"Impossible," Morrigan said, but her expression had gone sharp. "The shift change isn't for another hour."
"Tell them that," Kira said, already closing the vault door. "How many?"
I concentrated, trying to get an accurate count. "Four, maybe five. Moving like they know exactly where they're going."
"Trap?" Kira asked.
"Or coincidence," Morrigan replied, though she didn't sound convinced. "Either way, we need to leave. Now."
But my Threat Assessment skill was painting an increasingly problematic picture. The approaching guards weren't just responding to a general alarm - they were moving with the kind of coordination that suggested they knew exactly where to look. One group positioning to cut off our exit route, another spreading out to search systematically.
"They're cutting off our exit," I said. "This wasn't random."
Morrigan's face had gone pale. "Someone knew we were coming."
"Who else knew about this job?" Kira demanded, her hammer appearing in her hand.
"No one who would—" Morrigan stopped, her expression shifting to something between fear and anger. "Oh, that clever bastard."
"What?"
"Blackwood. He must have been watching me, waiting to see what I'd do." She clutched her cloak tighter. "The box contains financial records, yes. But they're not just about him. Half the Consortium's leadership has been laundering money for the Iron Syndicate."
The implications hit me immediately. "You're not just trying to prove Blackwood hired assassins. You're sitting on evidence of a massive corruption network."
"Information is power, dear boy. And the Consortium's been very careless about their record-keeping." Morrigan's smile was sharp. "Blackwood's assassination contract payments are just one small part of a much larger operation."
"Great," I said, tucking the box into my pack. "So now we're not just thieves. We're thieves caught stealing evidence that could bring down half the city's merchant leadership and their Syndicate partners."
The guards were getting closer. My Threat Assessment showed them spreading out in a search pattern that would reach our hiding spot within minutes.
"Alternative exit?" Kira asked.
"Service lift at the far end," Morrigan said. "But it's manually operated and not exactly quiet."
"Better than fighting our way through armed guards," I said. "Lead the way."
We moved quickly between the vault rows, staying low and keeping the iron bars between us and the approaching search. My Threat Assessment skill helped us time our movements, warning me when guards were looking in our direction and when it was safe to advance.
The service lift was exactly what Morrigan had described: a simple platform operated by a hand-cranked winch. Old, creaky, and definitely not designed for stealth.
"This is going to make noise," Kira observed.
"Less noise than fighting," I replied, testing the winch mechanism. "And we're out of better options."
My skill told me the guards were getting closer, their voices carrying hints of urgency and frustration. Maybe two minutes before they reached this end of the chamber.
"Everyone on," I said, starting to turn the winch handle.
The platform lurched upward with a grinding sound that seemed to echo through the entire vault level. Below us, I heard shouts as the guards reacted to the noise.
"There! The service lift!"
"Faster would be good," Kira said, watching the vault chamber recede below us.
I cranked the handle as quickly as I could manage. The platform rose past the second sub-level, then the first. Behind us, I could hear the guards organizing pursuit, but they'd have to use the stairs while we had a direct vertical route.
We emerged into a storage area on the ground floor. Through the windows, I could see the first hints of dawn touching the eastern sky.
"Exit?" I asked.
"Loading dock," Morrigan said, pointing toward a set of double doors. "Opens onto the alley behind the building."
We made our way quickly through the storage area, past stacks of boxes and filing cabinets. My Threat Assessment skill detected movement throughout the building below us, but nothing on this level yet. The guards were still organizing their search of the lower floors.
The loading dock doors were secured with a simple bar latch. Kira lifted it, and we stepped out into the pre-dawn air of Ravengate.
"Well," I said, patting the box in my pack, "that was educational."
"And profitable," Morrigan added, though she still looked shaken. "Assuming we can stay alive long enough to use what we've acquired."
"Speaking of which," Kira said, "where exactly do we go from here? Because I'm guessing our rooms aren't safe anymore."
I thought about the Consortium guards organizing pursuit, about Blackwood's assassins still hunting us, about the box full of evidence that half the city's leadership probably wanted back.
"Good question," I said. "Anyone know a place where we can lay low while we figure out our next move?"
"As a matter of fact," Morrigan said with a recovering smile, "I do."