A bulky warrior in full, silver knight armour stomped down a stone hallway, flanked on either side by similarly dressed guards. Two massive axes were tied to his belt. The two men on either side carried kite shields and broadswords.
Their path was illuminated by golden chandeliers hanging from the ceiling on silver columns. Each golden chain linking the canopy to the candle cups was hand-crafted in its unique aesthetic design. From forests of trees to sand dunes, the different biomes of the world were presented in their full glory. Each tree was painstakingly separated from its cousins by a marginal gap. Each cactus possessed small spikes. The foreground, mid-ground and background all blended together to bring the world to life yet remain distinct and discernible from each other. The ball, prisms, arms and candle tubes were all engraved with dazzling patterns and shapes, bejewelled with all varieties and rarities. Even the canopy, forever obscured from the casual glance of passersby, was adorned with jewels of untold wealth that would make even the most prestigious of silversmiths green with envy.
Yet the man and his companions didn't spare a glance for the visual feast just meters above their eyes, nor the paintings and artworks lining the walls. Their pupils remained forever latched to the wall at the end of the hallway.
The three men didn't follow the path around the corner, halting a few feet from the barren cobblestone wall. Nicholas walked forward until his nose was nearly touching the vertical surface.
"Owls fly overhead," he whispered.
The wall remained still.
The guild master rapped his knuckles against the stone. Once. Twice. Thrice. With the fourth impact, there was a click. Nicholas gently pressed his hand against the surface and pushed. The "wall" slowly swung open without a sound, revealing a massive chamber.
One side looked like a library, filled with bookshelves. The other held wooden desks and seats neatly stacked in rows of ten. In the centre of the room was a massive war table with a detailed, three-dimensional terrain model. Flags and red lines dotted the entire surface. Mini-figures of all assortments, military, civilian and sell-swords were placed throughout the map. Many more boxes of these miniatures sat beneath the table.
The room was bustling with activity. Men and women hurried about, dressed in black robes with V-shaped collars. The inner layer contained a white tunic covering the body up to the neck. Puffy, white sleeves peeked out from beneath their black sleeves. Black Tudors shifted about on their heads as they walked to and from the library and their desks.
Books, basic pencils, quills and ink lay scattered haphazardly across their workstations, often overflowing onto the floor. Maps, diagrams and sketches of faces were all littered about on every desk.
The guild master walked in, immediately greeted by a warm welcome from the castle's seneschal. Clapping each other on the back, Patrick shoved a thin book into Nicholas's awaiting hands.
"You know the drill."
Nicholas nodded. His hands and eyes glowed blue briefly. His lips retreated from their U-shaped arc downwards into a flat, thinly pressed line.
The guild master flicked through the book, eyes scanning and re-scanning each page quickly. His friend arched an eyebrow, "I'm afraid that book contains all the knowledge we have on their current activities." Gently prying the tome out of his friend's death grip, Patrick grabbed Nicholas's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"You and I both know that the previous books on this organisation are misleading at best. They have changed too much for the past to have any meaning."
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The guild master opened his mouth and closed it, giving him a defeated nod.
"Let's get this over with..."
Patrick led the three newcomers down a side corridor lined with wooden doors. Walking over to the fifth left one, the seneschal knocked five times. A two-second pause. Six more times. After the final thump, the door swung open, revealing two fully armed guards. The two warriors barred their way, "Identifications," they muttered gruffly, eyes scanning the three intruders.
Golden badges were handed out. A few minutes passed. They switched hands, returning to the possession of their original owner. The two guards moved out of their way.
After the quartet entered the room, the guard standing beside the door grabbed the steel handle and shoved his entire body weight against the half-steel, half-wood fixture. After a few moments of pushing, the room was closed off, resuming the image of an utterly grey, enclosed box.
With the door having reached its original position, the runes lining the inside flared red. A massive thunk as the lock system re-engaged, sliding five thick steel bars into their corresponding slots in the door frame.
Their boots no longer emitted a soft scuffing noise when in contact with the floor but a sharp screech of steel.
The room was boxed in on all sides by metal. Runes covered the room from head to toe, left to right. No wall, floor, ceiling or door was untouched.
The guard further away from the entrance approached the wall parallel to the doorway. Another variety of knocks and pauses. After a few seconds of waiting, the "wall" opened to reveal a cosy living room illuminated by the warm glow of a roaring fireplace. Above the mantel was a large portrait of a woman dressed in a sapphire dress, a man in a purple robe and a small child at the centre. A couch, a coffee table covered in bowls of fruit, sugary treats and other miscellaneous items and chairs littered about the place. The walls surrounding the space were inlayed with multiple wooden doors.
A man with facial features distinctly similar to the young boy sat on one of the sofas adjacent to the doorway which the quartet had entered from. The two guards marched to a corner after completing their duties. A shattering yell was launched from the figure sitting in the chair.
"PATRICKKK! WHEN CAN I LEAVE?! YOU PROMISED!"
"Oscar, you and I both know that your class is one of the most sought-after ones in the world! I will state my reasoning again. Our enemies would love to either kidnap you for ransom or use your skills for their own agendas. But the most appealing option would be to simply kill you and remove a powerful threat from the board. And at such a time when troubles are running rampant, it is simply unsafe for you to leave..."
"I can't even escape if my life depended on it, the runes and material you used are interfering with my magic... I AM BASICALLY A PRISONER OF MY OWN COUNTRY FOR NO REASON!"
The seneschal's hands clenched into a fist. His eyes narrowed, blazing with anger. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off as the resident snarled, "Just get on with it, where would you like to go?"
"The Coltherstone hold."
The man raised an eyebrow, "Seems like you are constantly sending people to that place but alright." He turned to look at the three heavily armed warriors, "Hello Nicholas, long time no see. You three are the travellers yes?"
The guild master nodded.
"Righteo then," waving a hand at the three. The air in front of them trembled and stirred. A swirling black disk appeared, suspended vertically mid-air. As the oval expanded to human size, the starry night sky transformed into a blue vortex. Oscar grabbed a small, blue flask sitting on the table and drained it dry. The portal mage then withdrew a small handkerchief from within his robe and dabbed away at the beads of sweat on his forehead. Clearing his throat, Oscar continued, "Depending on if the anti-teleport runes are working properly, you may appear outside of the walls instead...Just be aware," before gesturing for the trio to enter.
Muttering a quick thanks, the guild master and entourage approached the portal. The two guards behind him stepped forward, quickly disappearing into the swirly blue substance. As Nicholas began following them, he felt a hand snatch his arm.
A faint, nigh-undetectable whisper entered his ears. "Do not underestimate them! We've lost too many good men already. They have evolved much since your last encounter!" The hand retracted.
Giving the barest hint of a nod, the guild master vanished into the blue whirlpool.