(((Wrath)))
 
The mission Wrath had been chosen for was one of the utmost importance to the guild.  It was not often that the guild had traitors in their midst and Wrath took a great deal of pride that whispers of his name in crowded hallways were one of the reasons why.  It did happen on occasion that some young rogue decided to go rogue; Wrath was often called upon to find these.  Quite often finding the thief didn't present a problem most young thieves left a trail of one kind or another if you were trained to look for it, he was.  No, more often that not the problem was thieves who had heard the rumors knew the fate that awaited them at the hands of the Thieves Guild's "thief catcher", assassin, rogue slayer.  He knew he was called many different names by many different people and most of them not pleasant.  As for his own name due to a childhood infection in his throat his vocal cords no longer were present.  He was quite content with the name the Guild had given him, Wrath.
 
The name was but one of many things that the Guild had given him.  They had "rescued" him from the gutter of some god forsaken town where he had been barely able to scratch out an existance by fighting and stealing.  The first year had been grueling as he had been put through intensive training after intensive training.  It had honed his already unique fighting abilities to another level entirely but had shown his flaws as well.  While he could use any melee weapon under any star there was a mental block of some kind that kept him from understanding the workings of ranged weapons.  True he could throw a spear or a grenade with ease, but shooting a bow or a rifle was beyond his reach.  He wasn't sure if it was to help compensate for the lack of ability or because the guild recognized his other abilities that he was granted access to some of the Guild's prized possessions.  Shadow Guantlets were a personal favorite of his as they allowed him to remain hidden from view long enough to get close to a target.  If need be they could be utlilized as a punching weapon as well but that tended to be frowned upon.  If you were that close to a target a simple knife was often far more better to use than expensive tech.

Yet another of the wonderfull toys the Guild had deemed him worthy enough to have in his arsenal was the Pretas Chain.  He had used chains as weapons from when he was a very young boy.  They were cheap, easy to obtain and effective.  The Pretas Chain was none of those things, especially if the rumored origion of the chain was true.  Rumors circulated that is was created by a necromancer who was skilled in the art of forging souls into objects of all sorts.  He made the mistake of trying to forge the souls of barbarian warriors not knowing their fierce nature extended beyond death.  A simple length of chain was forged before the sould imbued it with their own energy using it to fashion a magical net from one length of the chain.  The net surrounded, entangled, constricted, and ultimately consumed the necromancer.  Only a few brave individuals have tried using the Pretas Chain and Wrath could say with pride he was one of them.

He did a quick check of his gear to ensure that he had everything before he entered the building ahead.  Far too often a a thief died not because they weren't trained but because they hadn't brought the equipment they needed to survive.  Wrath believed in being prepared; he also believed in being as quiet as possible.  A problem when one was carrying around twenty feet of chain.  The solution had taken some time to figure out.  The Pretas Chain wound around his torso four times taking time to unroll and use as a weapon but the Shadow Guantlets could buy a bit of time.  If need bbe he could use the blades crisscrossed accross his back but he was far better at more nontraditional weapons.

(((Roland)))
 
Roland watched the elf known as Wrath with a sense of awe bordering on fear.  If even half of what was said about him was true he was not to be trifled with.  The fact that the Guild had singled him out to go along with him on a mission left him with a feeling of dread and trepidation.  The man who had delivered his mission to him must have known that as he hadn't come with the mission alone.  He had come bearing gifts from the research and development department, one gift to be precise.  Roland had laughed when given the single pair of spectacles.  What did a dwarf with perfect vision need a pair of glasses for?
 
He was told to practice his illusionary skills in the barracks before wearing the glasses.  Something that he would have done anyways.  While he was an aspiring thief his skills as a "magician" and illusionist were things he prided himself on.  With an elaborate illusion in place in his room he donned the spectacles and was amazed to witness the illusion evaporate before his eyes.  Glasses on and the illusion returned, off gone.  He wasn't sure what reason the guild had for giving him the glasses, or for sending him on the mission, but he was gratefull for both.
 
Roland knew that Wrath couldn't speak so he began a series of small gestures almost imperceptible to somebody outside of the Thieves Guild.  They allowed for quick, silent and secure communiation between thieves.  Are we ready to go?

Are we ready to go?

Wrath had beena against the clumsy oaf of a dwarf coming with him on the particular mission but his arguements had been overuled by those above him.  Somebody wiser than himself had deemed it necessary even when arguement after arguement had been presented against him coming along.  Now on a dark corner on a desolate street in front of a dillipadated building this disposable dwarf dared ask if he was ready?  Rather than answer the question Wrath pretended not to have seen it.  Without a backwards look at the young thief he began moving forward.

The building was large and at one point could have possibly been a shopping establishment of some kind.  Glass windows had long ago been replaced with wood and iron, glass doors that had once opened on their own for streams of customers hung wide open revealing nothing but the darkness within.  The single story building had a flat roof top and that Wrath thought might be the best way to gain entry withought alerting his prey.  It was quite simple to throw the Pretas Chain up towards the roof and then trigger the net.  Within seconds the net had the railing of the roof secure in its grasp and Wrath began to haul himself up the chains link by link.

The rooftop had seen better days but also looked like it would hold the combined weight of both him and the dwarf with no forseeable problems.  It took but a moment to locate an access hath to a ladder leading down into the interior of the building.  Most likely to a staff room of some kind Wrath assumed.  He looked back towards where the chain still dangled waiting for the dwarf to follow him up.

Roland had used his fair share of chains building and maintaining his various illusions as a stage magician.  As he climbed the chain he could feel something just below the metal something malicious, something hungry.  He hoped his first contact with the chain would be his last it gave him the creeps.  The surface of the roof could not get there fast enough for him but he finally got his feet on solid wood and metal and heaved a small sigh of relief.  The roof was just like a million other rooftops flat for the most part with occassional outcroppings of pipes, ducts, and whatnot.  Several of these offered intriguing points of entry for a former stage magician even if his wide body screamed he wouldn't fit.

Expecting that anything he had to "say" would be ignored by the enigmatic Wrath Roland pulled the glasses out of a pocket and began to look over the rooftop.  Incredibly he witnessed half of the roof vanish before his eyes.  Places where there had been solid material turned into gaping holes and the most terrifying part of all was the red blinking lights that Roland was able to see.  A single word ran over and over through his mind, surveilance.  Somebody was expecting Wrath to come pay a visit.  Somebody that had talent with illusion spells.  Roland battled within himself for a moment deciding to leave Wrath to his own devices or to warn him of the predicament.  He decided for both his sake and the Guild's he would have to warn the elf.

The roof is trapped.  Holes are everywhere.  Cameras too.  I can see withe these.  Try them.

With the message sent Roland took off the glasses and extended them over to Wrath.

The roof is trapped.  Holes are everywhere.  Cameras too.  I can see withe these.  Try them.

Wrath was none to eager to fall through a hole in the rooth to his doom.  He did as the dwarf had instructed putting the glasses on he stared around the rooftop seeing nothing out of place.

You're wasting my time with these things.  There is nothing wrong with the rooftop.

Discretion was the better part of valor though.  Keeping the chain looped where it was he pulled it up and grapped hold of the opposite end.  Keeping tension on the chain he slowly began making his way along the roof.  It was only when his foot sunk deep into "the roof" that he admitted his mistake.

They only work for you.  Seems the Guild knew what they were doing having you along.

It was going to be the closest thing to an apology the dwarf was ever going to get from Wrath.  That much was certain.  Even more certain was the fact elf and dwarf were going to have to work together to get to their prey, and then to deal with him.  Illusions, why did it have to be a mage?

Roland knew the words were all he was going to get frome the elf and let himself appreciate getting those.  He took his glasses back from Wrath and placed them over his eyes.  Once again the landscape of the rooftop changed and he took his time relaying it.

This hole is twenty feet by five feet.  Cameras angled upwards at a thirty degree angle.  100 feet ahead is another hole the entire width of the roof.  Three of the air ducts do not actually exist but I'm uunable to see why from this location I need to get closer.

Wrath seemed to soak in the information that he was gathered thinking long and hard on it.  Or maybe it was just that he couldn't speak.  There was that.  Then there was the inky blackness that began covering the first hole with the camera.  That was a neat little trick.

Graduation.  Get yours.

It was as if the elf were a mind reader.  It wouldn't surprise Roland if he were.  There wasn't much about Wrath that would surprise him.

The Shadow Guantlets once again proved their worth by blacking out a small number of cameras that could have been troublesome.  They still weighed heavily on Wrath's mind however.  Blocking a single camera and then moving the shadow to block yet another camera while blocking the numbers present did in fact give away your position to anyone who was paying attention.  The question was, was there a person in fact monitoring each and every one of the security cameras?

There were means of avoiding the cameras altogether of course.  Ways to stealthily infiltrate the building without having to axcess the roof.  Perhaps they would have been better?  Second guessing himself never led to anything good.  He sent a signal back through the Pretas Chain and the net collapsed into nothingness.  This was where things were going to get interesting, interesting and dangerous.  He coiled the chain on the floor next to him before securing it with the net.  Fast roping was a technique used by paramilitary groups, militaries, and yes even by thieves.  The descent took approximatly one second.

Roland watched Wrath descend into the darkness below and cringed he knew what was coming next.  He was supposed to follow the elf down.  Sure he had been trained but training and implementing the training were two entirely different things.  He pocketed the glasses before slowly moving down the chain until his feet were just above floor level.  He dropped to the floor and looked around trying to see where exactly they had arrived.
 
A deep darkness covered the majority of where he had landed but some things were easy to make out.  The pattern of tattered clothing hanging from display racks were most evident.  Or would have been if not for the blinking neon sign that illuminated the room they had entered bathing it in a strange pink glow.  The guady neon pink sign held two words, welcome Wrath.
 
On impulse Roland reached for the glasses and unsurprisingly found much of the room they had entered vanished from sight.  Additionally the neon sign did, the light from it disappearing as well.  The dwarf had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen in this place.  Whoever this was knew they were there and that Wrath was the one coming for him.  To taunt him took some series balls... Roland hoped Wrath was going to be alive to remove them when all was said and done.

Wrath studied the room intently knowing one was walking in to a trap, or a series of traps, was one thing.  Getting through said traps was something different.  Here in the dark and with an unknown number of illusions among other things life was going to be difficult.  He hid a grin when the dwarf slowly came down the chain, but then coiled it around himself to get it out of the way.  The neon sign flashed and Wrath shook his head.  That was one cocky son of a bitch.

A single flare was pulled from a small pouch on his hip the light illuminating the room.  It was obvious that this place had once been a department store of some kind and had been abandoned many, many years ago.  The clothing once new had been eaten by bugs or destroyed by time.  Mildew clung to clothes and walls alike and the stench of excrement and urine flooded the senses.  So, abandoned but not forgotten.  Some squatters used it for sleeping in or protection from the elements.  Not that the holes in the roof would protect from much.  With the flare in hand Wrath began a slow stroll taking a mental inventory of the immense room.  There were a few doors leading who knew where but he wasn't interested just yet.

Past the clothing department and into an area that might have been electronics.  It seemed looters or just thieves in general had destroyed this section taking with them every last scrap that might have value.  A toy section was near by and Wrath took his time walking the battered aisles.  Toys wrapped in plastic still remained and he fought back the urge to grab hold of something, anything and take it with.  Just seeing these toys reminded him of a childhood he had never had.

Tucked away against the far wall was sporting goods section and here Wrath took a considerable amount of time.  Guns, knives, tents, fishing poles, all manner of goods that the store once sold were long since gone.  However there were other finds that held his interest.  A couple of loose tent stakes made their way into his pouch alongside a small skillet and a travel mirror.  Satisfied with his haul he began looking closer at the doors.

Roland watched Wrath weave his way through the old store with a bemused interest.  What could a centureis old building possibly have to offer? Other than a proving ground for the glasses he supposed.  He put the glasses on and found something out of the ordinary.  A small section of tile just in front of Wrath glowed a deep red while interestingly the chain around Wrath's chest glowed a soft blue. 

With Wrath's back to him he knew he couldn't communicate with thieves speach.  Instead he called out to him.  "Wrath, wait!"  He walked forward passing the elf and began to study the floor tile in depth.  A whistle escaped as he was able to determine just what had caused the red glow.  The tile had been boobytrapped with a pressure switch.  When he switch was triggered it would have pushed one set of runes up against another set unleashing who knew what kind of devastation.  A few minutes later with the trap defused Roland took the time to peruse the rest of the floor that he could see.  Scattered throughout the building bits of red glow could be seen.  From the rafters overhead to bits of clothing.  It seeme Wrath had gotten extremely lucky making it as far as he had.