From the brothel's wine cellar a hidden trap door led further down to a dark passage through a jarring staircase, which he hoped will connect at some point to the institute itself.
He struck a match, its light somewhat enhanced by the bronze pipes bolted to the ceiling and hurried his steps as much as he could, finally reaching the old riveted iron door at the end. It was bolted shut.
A sudden rattling noise skived his ear, turned his head and looked back in horror. At the far end of the passage, above the staircase, the door was opened. Someone was coming. He was caught between them and the closed door, like a cornered rat. In a surge of strength he took three steps and jumped, bracing one foot against the wall and thrusting off, catching the other foot on the opposite side and thrusting again, higher, so that his outstretched arms could reach the pipes. A pair of legs were visible descending the stairs.
He pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around the pipes, and then through sheer force rolled over above them, so he faced the floor. He looked down with despair. His stick pulled apart and readied. There was nothing else he could do.
They were coming. How long had he taken? Had he been seen? Heard?
A moment later - holding his breath despite his heaving chest - he saw them. One held a torch, the other rummaging his pocket. Finally a large key appeared, gleaming in the torch's blaze, which disappeared soon enough in the ancient doors keyhole. Heavenly light engulfed the tunnel, just for a second, before the total darkness took hold of it again.
The stick is 785 grams in total, 52 cm long in its closed state. The blade itself is 31.5 cm long, 28 mm wide and 6 mm thick, Forged of 5160.
The scabbard as well as the hilt is constructed of wenge and iron.
Closes with a manly click and it also needs considerable force to be opened. Behaves as a mace prior to it
Hope you guys like it!
He struck a match, its light somewhat enhanced by the bronze pipes bolted to the ceiling and hurried his steps as much as he could, finally reaching the old riveted iron door at the end. It was bolted shut.
A sudden rattling noise skived his ear, turned his head and looked back in horror. At the far end of the passage, above the staircase, the door was opened. Someone was coming. He was caught between them and the closed door, like a cornered rat. In a surge of strength he took three steps and jumped, bracing one foot against the wall and thrusting off, catching the other foot on the opposite side and thrusting again, higher, so that his outstretched arms could reach the pipes. A pair of legs were visible descending the stairs.
He pulled himself up, wrapping his legs around the pipes, and then through sheer force rolled over above them, so he faced the floor. He looked down with despair. His stick pulled apart and readied. There was nothing else he could do.
They were coming. How long had he taken? Had he been seen? Heard?
A moment later - holding his breath despite his heaving chest - he saw them. One held a torch, the other rummaging his pocket. Finally a large key appeared, gleaming in the torch's blaze, which disappeared soon enough in the ancient doors keyhole. Heavenly light engulfed the tunnel, just for a second, before the total darkness took hold of it again.
The stick is 785 grams in total, 52 cm long in its closed state. The blade itself is 31.5 cm long, 28 mm wide and 6 mm thick, Forged of 5160.
The scabbard as well as the hilt is constructed of wenge and iron.
Closes with a manly click and it also needs considerable force to be opened. Behaves as a mace prior to it
Hope you guys like it!
