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Shadows

Gilmir’s hand tightened on the grip, ready to draw and strike in one swift motion.

The guard extended his sword slowly, probing the dense shadows before him. Hobble shifted, and Gilmir winced. He faced a dilemma: if the guard made a sudden move, escape would be impossible. Yet, striking him down would spark chaos, forcing them to fight all the guards in a messy and potentially dangerous confrontation, particularly risky for Hobble.

The sword tip inched closer, and Gilmir realized it was past time to act. With a sinking feeling, he slid his left foot forward, improving his stance for the strike. He drew in a deep, slow breath.

“Harby?” Pillar called out. “Why are you just standing there looking at the wall? Get moving – start searching!”

“Yes, captain!” The guard, Harby, shouted back, and Gilmir grimaced as a gush of foul breath followed the words.

Harby turned slowly and, with a last glance over his shoulder, moved off in another direction.

Gilmir heard Hobble release a breath and turned to look down at him. Although Gilmir's superior vision had allowed him to see the guard, he wasn’t sure how much Hobble had registered. Apparently, enough to know it had been a close call.

“We need to move,” Gilmir whispered.

“Where?” Hobble mouthed.

Gilmir pointed upward and whispered, “Up.”

Hobble craned his neck. “Won’t they see us?”

“I hope not. I’ll extend the shadows.”

As Hobble started climbing the wall, Gilmir followed. Their goal was the stained glass windows halfway up. The climb was challenging, but small cracks and reliefs from carvings provided hand and foot holds.

Halfway to the window, a voice rang out, “What’s that? Is that shadow moving?”

Gilmir stopped and reached out with one hand, patting Hobble’s leg to halt him as well.

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“What do you mean?” Pillar’s voice echoed.

“I swear I saw that shadow move,” the first voice insisted.

Gilmir turned and saw a small, bald man pointing directly at their location. “It’s just a shadow,” Pillar dismissed, “it flickers in the light.”

“No, that’s not it,” the Baldy insisted.

“That’s where I saw the strange shadow!” Harby interjected.

“I can’t stay still like this much longer,” Hobble whispered, strained.

“Hold tight,” Gilmir responded, assessing the situation. He scanned the room below and his dismay grew as he noticed several bows among the men staring at their hiding spot.

“Well,” Pillar decided, “let’s see if those shadows hide something. Bobby, Joe, Alder, fire a few arrows at that spot.”

“Yes, captain!” sounded the answers.

“Crap,” Hobble muttered.

“Get ready to move,” Gilmir whispered. “I’ll distract them, then we smash the window and get out!”

“Well then,” Hobble said and started moving.

Gilmir turned towards the men, as far as he was able to hanging on the wall. Two of the guards had their bows ready, arrows nocked. Falling stars! Was this the one time humn guards would prove effective? Extending his free hand towards the men, he channeled his powers, conjuring a near-solid globe of darkness around Pillar and his bowmen.

The twangs of bowstrings and several outcries rang out. Gilmir turned and climbed. An arrow slammed into the wall behind him, another landing somewhere above.

“Ouch!” Hobble exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Glancing up, Gilmir saw Hobble hanging by his fingers, a grimace on his face. Blood trickled from his thigh, as an arrow fell to the floor. Luckily, just a glancing hit then.

“Keep moving,” Gilmir hissed.

“I can’t!” Hobble replied, “I can’t hold on anymore!”

“If you fall, you’re dead,” Gilmir stated, glancing over his shoulder. The voices and sounds below indicated it was only a matter of time before they emerged from the globe.

“Thanks. For. The. Info!” Hobble growled.

Gilmir reached Hobble’s flailing feet and placed one on a relief. “Move! Arrows will soon rain like curses in a bathhouse full of dwarves!”

Reaching the window, Gilmir pulled out his short blade.

“There!” came the call from the group on the floor. “I see them! Two shapes up by the window!”

Holding on to the windowsill, Gilmir flipped the sword over in his hand.

“Shoot them!” Pillar’s command echoed as Hobble reached the sill.

Gilmir slammed the hilt of his sword against the window. The blade bounced back, pain shooting up his arm – the glass was unharmed.

“Hurry!” Hobble urged. “They’re aiming at me! At us!”

Gilmir struck the window again to no avail.

“Break the glass!” Hobble’s voice rose.

“You handle the arrows,” Gilmir responded, adjusting his position for more forceful blows.

“How?!” Hobble asked, just as several bowstrings sang.