Like prowling wolves on the hunt the trio pushed forward, ever alert, ever vigilant. Each step through the clinging growth was made with care, trying to flow silent, to not disturb anything that might raise the alarm. The dark made it hard to ascertain just what lay before them and so they trod slow, weapons at the ready.

Bushes loomed up before them, and branches snagged at them, while water dripped ever from above, impeding their way. There were no paths marked out, just a wilderness of dense growth more akin to a jungle than a city garden, thick and verdant in all directions.

They struggled on, at times forced to turn back, to seek alternative routes as dense hedges barred their way. All soon were marred with cuts and scratches from the ordeal.

For how long it took them to navigate their way, they could not tell, for it felt like an eternity in a night, as the rain eased off and patches began to break in the clouds, revealing the first scattering of stars above, and with it some scant light, just barely enough for them to perceive what lay ahead.

It eased their travels as the clouds continued to fray and more starlight pierced the heavens above, tinting the gardens with an ethereal silvery hue, sharpening the shadows that lay about.

Then, in their stumbling, they happened upon a singular path, meandering between the hedges, a clear way that appeared to lead to the building at the heart of the gardens. Narrow in stature, it nonetheless was a welcome relief from pushing through the dense foliage that had clung all around them.

They paused for a moment there, to regroup, to shake off the excess of water and leaves that clung to them from their journey, to study the way ahead. No danger they had spotted, yet it did not ease the tension they felt, building ever stronger.

Once more they set off, following the path align through the hedges that grew high above them, blocking all sight but for that which lay ahead, above or behind. The ground beneath them, once soft grass, turned to rough stones, ones that shifted and scraped if they did not step with care, and each time it sounded loud in the still silence that clung unnatural about them.

With twisting turns the path led on, ever inwards, on occasions openings appearing to either side of them, plunging back into the clinging foliage that grew thick beyond the hedges. Tempted as they were to leave the path and return to the silence of the gardens, they stuck at it, for fear of once more becoming lost in the growth. On the path they were making progress, even if the danger remained that they would be heard, or spotted.

A straightening of the path, and before them it opened up, and the building appeared before them, a stout place of stone, yet plainly made, and simple. A tiled roof, four solid walls and a few windows showed, though in none appeared light. No fancy decorations could be seen, no statues or colonnades, nor elaborations of any kind. In all, it appeared out of palace for the district it was in, the kind of place more at home in the lower districts, down near by to the river, a commoner’s house, if one a little larger than normal.

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Around the building, the approaches had been cleared, with no cover to behold, no shadows to aid an approach. If any observed from within, their approach would be marked; none could make it across the clearing and stay hidden.

“I expected more,” Ivkarha whispered at the sight of the building. “This appears not to be the house of a sage, least wise the parakor.”

“Zalasfir is an uncommon one,” Kato responded softly. “Little should come as a surprise.” He held up his hand of a sudden, standing in the exit from the pathway. “Quiet.”

They stayed still, silent, listening for whatever it was that had alerted Kato. No noise could be heard, no disturbance. Moments passed, and then more, and still Kato made no moves, standing alert, sword at the ready. On dragged the minutes, Ivkhara shifting balance from one foot to the other, crouched low, expectant. Aedmorn stood still, eyes closed, senses questing, trying to pick out anything from the confusion of life abundant all about.

All unexpected Kato leapt, sword flashing pale in the starlight. A sudden cry cut short, the sound of steel upon flesh and then the crumpling of a body falling to the ground.

Aedmorn and Ivkhara were out after him in an instant, finding him standing over a darkened bundle, a fallen body, the nature of which was impossible to make out in the shadowed dark. Aedmorn knelt beside it, seeing a robed and hooded figure.

“I heard nothing,” Ivkhara said. “How did you know they were there?”

“A hint of movement,” the big man responded quietly, looking around, sword held before him. A drop of blood ran down its length, to drip to the ground.

“Esir preserve us!” Aedmorn hissed. “This is no man.” He had pulled back the hood of the slain figure; even in the faint starlight, its features could be seen to not be that of a human. Hairless and smooth scaled, it had more of likeness to a snake than a man; even in death, its eyes appeared to gleam ith a pallid yellow light. Thin lips ere curled back in sudden pain, showing fangs like those of a snake.

“It would appear that the mystery of the hooded servants is solved,” Kato remarked, crouching down alongside Aedmorn. He twitch aside the creature’s robes with the tip of his sword, to reveal a scaled hand clutching a long, curved knife, one with serrated edges design to tear rather than cut. The blade appeared damp with a substance unknown.

“Do not touch,” Aedmorn warned. “It is poisoned.”

“What are they?” Ivkhara asked.

“In the lands of the far east, in dark and steamy swamps are said to dwell a race steeped in the darkest arts of magic and poison,” Aedmorn replied. “Seldom do they emerge, though when they do, it is as killers for hire, assassins without peer.”

“And Zalasfir has three more,” Kato stated, standing once more. “They die as easily as any others, though.”

“As long as we see them in time.”

A soft laugh came from Kato. “Then it is for the best that we are not spotted, yes?” He stared at the house before them. “We had best get moving, least morning arrive afore we are done with this place. Let us make use of the dark while we still have it.”