RoH: Thieves in the Night

Remant came awake with his left hand around someone's throat in an unbreakable grip, while his victim flailed and struck at him with one arm. For a moment he considered commanding his hand to release its grip, but the figure above him wore a cloth over the lower half of its face and strange, dark lenses over its eyes. The lenses were held in some sort of wire frame, the design unfamiliar but the purpose obvious. It was night outside, and the intruder was Vanil, so the lenses most likely allowed their wearer to see in the dark. Which meant...

His hand clenched and twisted, and a cracking sound filled the tent. The intruder slumped, completely limp. Remant sighted and shoved it aside, then looked around. Yes, there was an unfamiliar dagger on the ground beside his bedroll. He slipped out of the blankets and rose into a crouch, then reached down and pulled on his black leather gloves. He didn't bother with his boots; those could wait. 

There were other figures moving in the darkness, but none seemed to have noticed him yet. There should have been guards at the edge of the camp, but none of them were visible. Downed, then, he thought. Hopefully not dead. He did not want to see what would happen if the intruders realized that anyone in the camp was awake and mobile. 

So he reached down and clasped his sword, and then he reached into the depths of his mind. The unwelcome remnants of power were still there; he touched them, and called for darkness. 

There were no sounds as the camp went black, but after a moment of stillness the intruders raised their blades; several of them silently called up spells as well. Remant couldn't see them; not exactly. But this darkness was his and he knew the place of everything in it, while even with their enchanted lenses the intruders couldn't see him. 

It was only a small effort to slip up to the nearest intruder and gut them. The darkness drank noise as well as light; the first death was silent.So were the second and the third. 

The fourth was trickier; that intruder had given up on seeing, and extended a sort of warning-web of magic around him. He turned to meet Remant's blade, and he fought well, trying to move in past Remant's guard with his shorter blade. It might have worked, too, if Remant's left hand hadn't caught the intruder's wrist and held it for the brief moment necessary for Remant to put his blade through the man's heart. 

And these were men, all of them. That was unusual; most bandit troops had some women among them. Remant puzzled over that as he killed and killed again, dispatching the last two intruders. Then, finally, he let his darkness withdraw. It was a relief, more than anything else. The darkness was hungry, and his control of it was limited; much longer, and it might have devoured everyone within reach, friend and foe alike. I really need to learn more of sorcery, he told himself again. Everything I know is either trivial, or dangerously extreme. 

The intruder at his feet coughed out a mouthful of blood. "They said... there was power... here." He drew a shuddering breath. "The beast-bound... will come... for--" There came a soft rattling sound, and his whole body relaxed. Remant wiped his blade on the man's dark tunic, then sheathed it. It was time to see who else had survived.