There were doors lining the hallways, but he headed straight for the one at the end. the treasure was hidden somewhere downstairs.  He would have to navigate a maze-like path to find it, but at least it wasn't in the opposite side of the building.

The door was slightly open, and he slipped a couple fingers in the crack and put his eyes against the opening.  It was a spacious room, lavishly decorated with vases and murals stretching across the walls.  There were a couple guards standing at the only door he could see, which probably led downstairs.  Shadows still lapping at his body, he slinked through the door and kept at the side of the room, where the light from the windows didn't reach.  He glided with the shape of the shadows and slinked behind vases, along the tapestries. The guards looked bored out of their minds, chatting to each other, not paying attention to the shifting light and dark in the side of the room.

He was behind on of the guards and pulled a needle out of his pouch, pricking the neck of the guard lightly.  The man swatted his nape and grumbled something about mosquitoes and the other guard shrugged.  They continued talking, something about in-game hacks, before the man started warping his words. He paused, confused, and tried again.  The other guard looked at him bemusment, and asked, [i]uh, I can't understand you man.[/i]The guard tried again and chocked on the word, this time, falling to his knees, hands on the ground to support himself.  The other guard rushed to his side, and knelt, shaking him lightly--they paid no attention to the figure that appeared behind him--the shadows lapped at the both of them, before swallowing them whole--

Emerson stood in front of the door, a wicked smile on his face, and the outfit of one of the guards snugly fit to his form.  His cape was hid under clothing with ease; it was amorphous and intangible.  The guards had disappeared by now, and it would take them a while to respawn. He walked through the door with confidence, and he was in a room with spiralling stairs; he skipped down the steps, feet not touching the ground for more than a second, and went all the way to the bottom.  He was in a hallway, part of a larger room which steps leading to the first floor, reminiscent of the entrance hall to a castle where people would hold balls--except not as large or glamorous.  Capriciously, he twirled, feeling like a second rate belle.  He grinned again, and took a step forward.  He heard a door open.

He leapt back and crouched behind a wall--there was someone who had entered from the side door, who rushed to darker area of the room, also crouching.  Well, that wasn't a guard.  Too damned suspicious.  Emerson waited from his position, eyes tracking the movement of the figure with the white long hair.