The stark difference between the warm, humid exterior and the dark, cold interior assaulted Sigurd's senses. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he noticed he stood before a long narrow hallway that turned into a sharp corner at the end.

Scant torches fixed upon the corridor's walls lit pockets of sanctuary among the dark, while the rest remained shrouded. Next to some of the torches were sturdy wooden doors, all closed.

After identifying everything, Sigurd carefully walked down the hall. Under each of the doors, light seeped through, and from behind them, he could hear voices and people shuffling around.

Deciding it would be bad to linger long, Sigurd picked up the pace and rounded the corner. The corridor kept going, but then also had junctions splitting off like crossroads. He counted three along the way, not including the wall at the end.

He made a mental image of the layout to aid in his escape and kept going, taking a right turn at the far end, wary of the labyrinthine makeup of the fortress.

Sigurd hugged the wall to his left and pressed onward. Unease crept in with every new juncture he saw, every new path to choose; the uncertainty of being in a fortification without any inkling as to where to go made him anxious.

After passing along various wooden doors and a few more corners, he arrived at a different entrance. Blocked off by a metal door with bars, he surmised it was his best bet, as it might lead to the fortress’ dungeon.

To his surprise, the door wasn't locked and he stepped through. What next met him was a long wide hallway. A few feet into it was a large opening to a new room, and from within he could hear raucous laughter. Directly in front of him, however, were stacks of boxes, old furniture, and other knick-knacks.

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They were arranged in such a way that the slightest move would set it all tumbling, and that is exactly what happened as soon as he tried and failed to pass through there cleanly. All it took was one wrong motion.

“Oh fuck!" Sigurd silently cursed his large frame.

A loud, thundering clatter erupted around him, as several crates fell, lamps toppled over, and various smaller things were scattered about.

“What the hell was that?!" One of the bandits inside the room asked, interrupting their jovial laughter. “Hey newbie, go check it out!”

Panicking, Sigurd tried to think what to do on the spot. Retreating wasn't an option, he had no time. Hiding wasn't an option, he would be too exposed. And going forward would mean passing directly in front of the door. So he did the only thing he could: he hugged the wall next to the large, open entrance and waited in ambush.

The slightly inebriated bandit hobbled out of the room, passing right by Sigurd. He was ready to take the man by surprise but wanted to wait until the last second.

“What the fuck happened here? What a mess..." The bandit asked as he turned to face the disaster in the hall.

He took a few steps forward, brushing past Sigurd, yet remained completely oblivious to his presence.

Shaking his head, the bandit shrugged his shoulders and concluded: “Huh. It must've been the wind.”

He then turned and faced Sigurd, staring him directly in the eyes. Face to face, he was clearly in his line of sight. The bandit furrowed his brow, upset, as Sigurd held his breath, a sweat drop trickling down his cheek.

After a few seconds, the bandit cracked a smile, winked at Sigurd, and went back into the room, shouting, “It was nothing, probably rats or something! All the shit in the hall just fell. Now let's keep the card game going!”

Flabbergasted, Sigurd let out a quiet sigh and wiped the sweat off his brow. ‘What was that?!' He thought, glancing across the hall.

When he turned around, he saw a mirror on the wall behind him. Except, he didn’t see his reflection. ‘Holy shit, am I invisible? That's the only reason I can think of to explain what just happened.’

He pumped his fist, giddy, and then thought, ‘If this is thanks to the Concealment skill, then I may not have had to sneak around after all!’

Nodding in acknowledgment, Sigurd pressed forth confidently. He made no effort to hide as he passed the large entrance; the men within, caught up in their gambling and drinks, were none the wiser to his presence.