Silas scaled the fallen stones, testing each one before putting his weight on it. Years of hunting had taught him that rushing got you killed. The same principle applied here - one loose rock, one missed handhold, and he'd let anything that was waiting know he was coming.
The wall's height gave him a better view of the estate. Broken fountains dotted an overgrown lawn that might have once been gardens. Statues stood half-buried in wild grass, their features worn smooth by weather.
The manor itself stretched wider than he'd first thought, with multiple wings branching from the main building.
He dropped down inside the wall, landing in a crouch. The grass reached past his waist, perfect cover for anything that wanted to stay hidden. He drew his sword, the familiar weight settling into his palm.
Movement caught his eye. Halfway up the drive, something large slithered among the overgrown grass. He glimpsed a flash of green, some kind of snake coiling around a broken fountain.
He saw it just for a second, then it disappeared behind the stone edges.
He swallowed. So the rumors about feral beasts patrolling the estate yard were true enough.
He approached the gate, summoning up courage.
Sure enough, two massive suits of dull, time-worn armor stood on either side of the gate, each one nearly eight feet tall.
They had horns coming out of helmets, half-chipped, and heavy pauldrons battered with old scars. The Gemini, some had called them. The estate's infamous gate guardians.
At first, they looked inert, but as Silas came close, their visors glowed a faint, baleful crimson. They shifted in unison, swords scraping across the ground in a grinding hiss.
Silas crouched lower in the grass. The armors hadn't moved since their initial stir, but their crimson gaze tracked his position. Their massive swords were ready to strike.
He needed to reach that front door.
Fighting those things head-on would be suicide, he'd seen enough enchanted constructs to know better. But maybe...
The snake he'd spotted earlier gave him an idea. If the grounds were as wild as they looked, the original wards must have started to wear down, and with it, the magic on those suits.
He circled wide through the grass, keeping low. The armors' heads turned in perfect sync, following his movement, but as they did, the joints creaked and screeched from age and disuse.
Twenty yards to the door. The grass provided decent cover, but one wrong move and those blades would find him. He kept his sword ready, though steel probably wouldn't do much against whatever magic animated them.
Fifteen yards.
A branch snapped under his foot. The armors took a synchronized step forward, their steps sending tremors through the ground. But they didn't charge. They were anchored to their posts, defending the entrance.
Ten yards. He could see the door clearly now , heavy oak bound with iron, weathered but intact. The armors' crimson gaze burned brighter. Their grip tightened on their weapons.
Five yards. The grass thinned here, leaving him exposed. The armors raised their swords in perfect mirror images of each other. Silas tensed, ready to dodge.
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But they didn't attack. They stood frozen, weapons raised, as if waiting for something.
Silas pulled out the inheritance documents, his movements slow and deliberate. The armors tracked him, their crimson gazes burning through the morning mist. He held up the scroll, making sure the estate seal was visible.
"I have proof of inheritance," he said, keeping his voice steady. "Blood-sealed and everything."
The armors stood motionless. Testing a theory, Silas took another step closer to the door.
Their visors flared bright red. Their swords began to descend.
"I have the official clearance—" Silas stopped, raising the scroll with the estate seal higher.
No answer came, just the metallic squeal of ancient joints. One lifted its sword in a silent threat, while the other advanced, blocking his path to the gate.
A wind stirred the weeds at his feet. The yard beyond seemed to hold its breath, watching.
"Tough crowd," Silas muttered. He carefully pulled the stamped scroll from his coat, waving it with a tense smile. "Magistrate said I can go in."
The first suit's visor flared deeper red. In a sudden blur, it swung its massive sword horizontally, aiming to cleave him in half.
He dove backward. The blade whooshed inches from his chest, slamming into the iron gate with a deafening crash. Sparks flew.
"Guess not," Silas gasped, rolling to his feet. He scrambled to yank the Summoner Orb from his belt. His sword would be useless against those monstrous blades.
The second armor moved. Its massive frame shifting to cut off Silas's escape. Both suits advanced as one. The only sound was the grinding screech of ancient metal plates.
Silas backed away. His street instincts screamed at him, these things were too big to take down. Fighting them head-on would be like trying to take down a building with his fists.
All it would do is get him killed.
His fingers found the summoning orb. He poured mana into it, not caring what came out as long as it could buy him time. Light burst from the sphere, coalescing into a form in front of him.
A Bog Frog materialized, its warty body barely reaching his knee.
The creature's bulbous eyes blinked up at him, throat sac pulsing. Silas had a basic idea of what it could do. Bog Frog's had a acidic poison they spit out.
But the armors were magical constructs or spirits. Either or. Would acid even work on them?
Silas's mind raced back to Dolan's streets, he'd survived worse odds. Sometimes the best defense was a good distraction.
"Hit the joints," he commanded the Bog Frog. The creature's throat sac swelled before launching a spray of liquid at the nearest armor's knee.
The acid struck the armor's knee joint with a sizzling hiss. Green liquid ate through years of rust and grime, revealing nothing underneath but empty space. The construct's leg seized mid-stride, its movements becoming jerky and uneven.
Silas's heart leaped. The acid was working. If he could target enough weak points-
The second armor's blade swept down in a brutal arc. The Bog Frog didn't even have time to croak before the massive sword split it cleanly in two. Its warty body collapsed, pieces flopping onto the grass.
Dark blood splattered across the stones before the creature's remains dissolved into wisps of magical essence.
Silas's stomach turned. He'd seen plenty of creatures die, but he hadn't expected a summon to die that way.
That said, it gave him a window.
A split second and that was all Silas needed. He darted between them, inheritance papers clutched tight. The door's ward pulsed as he approached - ancient magic recognizing ancient blood. He slammed his palm against the lock, shoving the papers against it.
"Come on, come on," he muttered.
Behind him, metal scraped on metal as the armors turned.
The lock clicked. Silas yanked the door open and dove through just as a massive blade embedded itself where his head had been. He kicked the door shut, hearing the wards snap back into place.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he slumped against the wood. The dim corridor ahead was littered with debris - broken chairs, torn carpeting, all covered in a thick layer of dust. Light filtered weakly through cracked windows.
"Some yard," he said between breaths, listening to the sounds of shifting metal outside.
The armors seemed content to return to their posts, leaving him alone in the manor's musty silence.
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TAMED/SUMMONED MONSTER ROSTER (6 SLOTS)
[Grey Owl - E - Common]
Status: Available
Notes: Aerial superiority, excellent grip strength. Best used for quick strikes from above.
[Lesser Salamander - E - Common]
Status: Available
Notes: Fire breath effective for area control. Burns easily tire larger opponents.
[Bog Frog - E - Common]
Status: Dead
[Unknown]
[Unknown]
[Unknown]