“So, everyone knows the plan?” Syril, still in his Raphael disguise asked the group in the alley behind the warehouse they were about to enter.

  Linar had already taken care of the lookout on this side, and the town guard was waiting for their all clear before entering.

  “Yes dad ,” Grom said. “We understood it the first time you went over it.”

  Bill, in his armor that matched Grom’s rose his hand sheepishly with the clatter of metal, “I really appreciated the repetition. I understood by the third.”

  A pebble clattered to the ground beside them, and they all looked up to see Linar glowering at them from the roof.

  “Alright, let’s go,” Syril said, as he moved to climb the rope.

  Grom followed, using the rope to hold them against the rough brick wall as they walked up it. Bill went next while Ellen waited patiently below.

  Once all three men were up, Ellen slipped her foot into a loop at the end of one rope and was rapidly pulled up.

  “I thought you said you were strong,” Grom teased Ellen.

  “No,” she said. “I said I did cardio.”

  “Why couldn’t she teleport again?” Bill asked.

  “I thought you said you understood the plan,” Syril said.

  “I do,” Bill said. “but I don’t understand the why behind it.”

  “No magic,” Ellen answered before the irritated Syril could in a less kind manner. “They might be able to detect it.”

  “Doors open,” Linar called from nearby.

  As they headed to the door, Grom caught sight of two bodies on the roof, each slain by a slash across the neck and shook his head in disappointment. He wouldn’t argue the necessity of dealing with criminals that exploited the weak in such a manner, but he didn’t enjoy it. He much preferred killing beasts and monsters to the men who emulated them.

  The open ‘door’ was much closer to hatch than door, set into the ground with a crude lock on it. Linar was the first down, signaling the all clear shortly after.

  “How clear?” Syril whispered down.

  “What does that mean?” Linar shot back.

  “Is it clear enough for the twinned clankers to come down?” Syril asked.

  Bill and Grom looked to each other, expressions lost beneath their helms.

  “They’re just jealous,” Grom told his taller twin.

  “Let me check,” Linar said, returning shortly and confirming.

  The ladder led down to a narrow staircase which had the look of a late addition to the original construction. At the bottom, the door opened into what had once been and office, now a crude supply room for rooftop guards. It was a mix of crossbows, bows, bolts, arrows, and strangely, a few brooms.

  “I should have brought a weapon,” Ellen mused on seeing the weapons and recalling the no magic rule for the initial attack.

  “Grab one,” Bill said.

  Ellen perused the racks and selected a broom.

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  Noticing the strange looks she got, she shrugged.

  “I don’t know how to use those,” she said.

  “And your royal self knows how to use a broom?” Grom asked.

  “Why do you think the fey trade for children?” She asked. “They need someone to do the grunt work. They hate cleaning up their messes. Do you think I chose an ooze as a mentor because I had a lot of options? He was the garbage disposal. I eventually realized his gurgling pops were communication after a few months of doing the dishes. The first spell he taught me was a cleaning spell. Eventually I knew enough magic to handle all my chores and could focus on more interesting magics.”

  Ellen spun the room experimentally and then frowned and chose another until she found one that suited her.

  Once they were situated, Linar looked through a crack in the door before running out into the next hallway to scout ahead.

  He rounded a corner and came back shortly, wiping blood off his daggers.

  “Hallway’s clear, but there’s a lot of doors ahead,” Linar reported.

  Through the next few rooms, Linar silently cracked the doors. Many were occupied with a sole person busy at work at a desk, and a silent blow dart coated with one of his concoctions was sufficient to deal with all of them. It was unlikely that any of these were the muscle of the organization, but it didn’t take much muscle, skill, or training to point a wand of fireballs, so it was best not to leave any potential enemies in the rear.

  While Linar cleared one room and the others waited outside, a door opened, a man walking out eye’s intent on the ledger in his hand. Ellen was the nearest, and she acted immediately, sweeping his feet out from under him with the broom. He hit the ground hard with a thud, and she thrust the course straws of the boom head into his face, muffling his cries until Linar returned to blow a dart into his neck.

  Once the top floor was clear, the went to the stairs. The stairs were along the outside of the building, evidenced by the one wall sharing the same stonework as the exterior, while the other was a wooden interior one.

  “Two thugs at the bottom,” Linar warned.

  He and Syril, each wielding a borrowed crossbow waited at either side of the stairs, and at an unspoken signal the two men leaned around the wall, firing bolts into their targets, each shooting the one opposite them as they had and visibility on a larger portion of their body due to the crossed angle.

  As soon as the shots were loosed with their loud twang and crack , Bill and Grom ran down the stairs. Both men at the bottom of the stairs collapsed, bolts entering their torso’s from high and behind. By the time Grom and Bill made it to the bottom, blood had already started to pool around their bodies.

  The collapse of the two men didn’t go unnoticed and the steady sound of workers moving crates and products around stopped and someone cried out in alarm.

  The first to try to enter the stairway was taken completely by surprise as Bill’s axe caught him in the center of his chest. Despite the presence of the two clearly dead bodies, he’d taken no precautions before charging in.

  The next were more circumspect, firing arrows blindly into the opening. A hit their targets, only to glance off the armor.

  While they held the door below, Linar took out a small hand drill, and quickly made a hole in the wall beside him. Peeking out, he billowed his cape intending to teleport, but nothing happened.

  “Anti-magic field!” Ellen shouted, attempting to cast a spell and failing. “There’s got to be an anchor object for the effect!”

  She ran up the stairs, repeatedly casting as she went.

  Syril tried his own magic, finding it too had no effect.

  Grom muttered a prayer and similarly found himself powerless.

  “Good thing I’m not actually a cleric,” he muttered to himself as he swung his mace at the next thug that tried to enter.

  They held the door, waiting for Ellen to return. Pots of smoking gas flew into the opening, but Grom and Bill repeatedly kicked them away. Despite their efforts, visibility at the bottom dropped to nothing.

  “I got detect magic active!” Ellen said, running back. “Magic worked on the ladder to the roof. And I signaled the guard”

  Syril signaled with his hands, preparing the team for a charge out into the smoke, when a ten foot diameter hole suddenly opened in the wall beside them, revealing the warehouse beyond.

  “Come on!” Ellen groaned. “How is that not magic?”

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