A frontal attack would be certain death, he was no fighter and his tricks all limited, so what could he do but inspect his pocket in search for an answer, a golden key shined and he pondered a while.
A magical door requires a key, would it distinguish between this one and its own?
And so he came with a plan, with a lock pick and key he prayed for the night mother to guide his way.
*Click* went the door and a screech could be heard, it was the hinges stretching after a really long rest. There he stood with an incredulous look, had the night mother accepted his plea? Maybe this wasn’t such bad an idea.
After a meticulous examination and a few steps, he was inside that curious place. Heavy walls of cobblestone blocks adorned with torches that never ran out; At the end of the place a sat a set of stairs.
Closing the door, a sudden silence assaulted his ears, not even the flames dared to speak.
The place was tidy, in no way left behind, didn’t look abandoned, the torches were light. No cobwebs around even the cobblestone on the floor was heavily worn, no doubt someone used this place.
“No time to think about the meaning of this” he thought to himself, ignoring the chill.
No place to hide and no doors unlocked, at least the second he just supposed, were for someone to ever spot him, a dash and a clash would ever suffice?
Controlling his breath and with the lightest steps, carefully he creeps his way to the stairs, just in case traps be on place or foes to be patrolling the place. With every step, his bones would rattle, he would hear even the faintest of sounds as his ears grow desperate for something to kill the silence of the place.
And all of a sudden he started to hear: A faint whisper at first he mistook for the wind, but as every step he took to the door he would ponder the cause of this one weird sound.
“No time to figure” he thought to himself, already too late to go on and retreat. Steeping his steps, the sound accompanied, his respiration got heavier as the nerves appear; The door ahead was right next to his reach.
With a firm grasp, he took the knob and pulled it light, a sudden breeze brings darkness and a chill to his spine.
Turning around, all the lights were off, was it the breeze? Too spooked to think and quick as a flash stepped outside, door slamming behind, with the sound he but cringed as it resonated afar, but at least the previous room was but a memory now.
In front of him stood the darkest of rooms, only the faintest of lights could be seen from the thick glass of the windows that adorned the place. Lucky for him night vision was easy as closing his eyes, suddenly that room was bright as the day.
The massive room extended quite far, it was two stories, ceiling as high as the sky; The first floor was big, a chamber that is while the second was more of a path to a door: it had no floor by the middle but two small paths following rails that ensured from there no one would fall.
Blending with the shadows and scouting around, he just confirmed no one’s around. Not even a chirp from a mouse was heard, what was this eerie atmosphere of the place?
In the middle he could see a table just awaiting abuse: the blackest of woods made up its figure contrasting with the mantel of a shining white glow that presented details of the warmest of reds, such table was worth no less than a king, this was sure the place he wanted to be.
He ignored this glance and went up the staircase, a bluish hue that hit on the floor contrasted the bright red of the carpet about.
Both corridors followed behind of the rails becoming but one in front of the door. A full moon was engraved on the hardwood, emblematic indeed but mysterious was not.
“This is the place, I made no mistake” he reassured himself, skipping ahead to the sturdy door’s place.
In front of the door he could see no knob, was this another of the magical doors?
He touched the engraving, a chill through his mane. The door opens with grace as if by art of magic, giving him glance of a dark room ahead, a bed and some bookcases as well as some chests.
“The crown must be here, somewhere around here” the thief was skeptic but thinking of treasure matched by none.
He decided to risk it and stepped into the place, a sudden *Snap* and the door was now closed, the cat was trapped and his once black fur had turned all pale. With a stick on his throat and no weight on the stomach, he turned around faster than his body would let him, or was it just an adrenaline confusion?
“I have captured thee vile cutpurse” the sudden voice made his blood frozen, was it a guard that had tended a trap? He turned around like a sacredly cat only mare stood there just watching him act.
“Excuse me, fine mare, for I was searching for crowns and not expecting a diamond to suddenly show” as smooth as he could he had set up his words, was this the princess? He just didn’t know but for sure it’s a mare, were her to scream all his plans would be done.
“Thou cometh to plunder my virtue?” Asked the mare, not amused her face, was her desire that of being abused?
“Plunder’s harsh word for such palfrey as you, fondle is the world a gallant would choose” Said the thief, closing the distance.
The mare smiled and laid on the bed, as the thief approached ready for her.
“Thou hast mistaken picaroon, let us reave tantivy all the night long.”