There was little to search in the warehouse. The Orcs had destroyed everything.
Renato climbed the stone stairs to the entrance on the second floor. A heavy stone door blocked the way, its surface covered in sword cuts and axe marks.
It seemed the Orcs had tried to break through the door, but failed.
A bent crowbar was wedged into the edge of the stone door. Duergar craftsmanship was sturdy indeed; even the Orcs' brute strength could not budge it.
Renato extended his right hand and pressed his palm against the door's keyhole.
Shadow energy began gathering in his hand. Wisps of black mist seeped between his fingers like living things and coiled around the metal lock cylinder.
The corrosion was slow. The shadow energy reacted with the metal, giving off a faint hiss and thin trails of black smoke.
Controlling shadow energy was extremely difficult. It was like breathing: effortless when he paid it no mind, but deeply uncomfortable the moment he tried to control it deliberately.
Renato focused, fine beads of sweat forming at his temples.
Nearly a minute passed, and his temples began to ache faintly from the sustained spellcasting.
Just as Renato was about to give up, the metal lock disintegrated completely. The stone door slid inward a crack, stirring up a cloud of accumulated dust.
Renato pushed the stone door open, waved away the dust, and stepped into the room.
The second floor was a bedroom, evidently belonging to the owner of the general store.
A stone bed was covered with thick animal hides. Beside it stood a low table holding a dim Magic Lantern and several ledgers.
It could burn forever without lamp oil. Magic really was convenient.
The room was small and simply furnished, with the practical style typical of Dwarves.
A metal