TheThievesTale

The Thieves’ Tale
Prologue
The Crows had been a prominent and successful guild of thieves and rangers since the great city of
Attaschi was founded more than 1,500 years ago. They had worked for the government, and they had
worked for themselves. It was a beautiful bit of chemistry that had resulted in plentiful quantities of gold.
Gradually, however, the days of wealth and fame had faded, and the Crows had become little more than
occasional scouts for the Attaschi Council. Maybe it was bad luck, or perhaps they had stolen from the
wrong person. The only thing they knew for sure was that things had changed when their old leader,
Berith, had died.
No one felt the shame of their decline more than their leader, Olivia. Their successes were her successes;
their failure, her failure. As their days of failure stretched into seasons and even years, she became more
and more desperate to restore the guild to its former glory. At the height of her desperation, she turned
to the Nightingale, a notorious thief from a far off land; and planned a heist so dangerous and so daring
that it would either restore the Crows to their legendary wealth and power, or destroy them forever.

Thieves, Rangers, and Other Discarded Things
“Olivia, this won’t end well.” Olivia’s right-hand man, Vareen, paced back and forth across
the stone floor. The rest of the guild sat around the small room that served as their living
quarters, listening anxiously to his tirade. “Surely you realize that there is no way to know how
competent, let alone trustworthy, this “Nightingale” truly is. In our business, trust is the most
valuable commodity; do you know why? It’s because there isn’t much of it to go around. Yet,
you seem to think that a few grand stories mean this man in motley is the ideal candidate to
spend the last of our funds on.”
Vareen had a tendency to drag one of his claws a bit when he was angry. The sound was
near unbearable, but Olivia had to remain composed. If she flinched, physically or mentally, they
would all know how desperate a situation their guild faced. She was desperate, there was no
doubt about that, but letting it show would only weaken her resolve and erode the Crows’
confidence in her leadership. Her ability to lead, and the quiet desperation of men and women
who had nowhere else to turn, were the only things holding the Crows together.
“Vareen,” she replied angrily, rising from her seat to confront him, “You are like a brother
to me, but if you dare question me again, you will need to find somewhere else to sleep, do
you understand me? This is my operation, and I will handle it as I see fit. When Berith died…”
“When Berith died, WE gave you the reigns,” Vareen shot back. “WE decided that you
should lead; don’t you dare forget that. You lead us because we allow you to. Most of us have
been in the Crows since you were a lass, so don’t you dare suppose that you can do what you
please and dismiss our concerns. You may be the leader, but you are still one of the youngest
and greenest of us. Don’t make us regret naming you our leader.”
Vareen continued his lecture, but Olivia tuned him out as she contemplated what he had
said. He was never this talkative, so she knew that he was genuinely angry with her. And he was
right; her comrades had been the ones to put her in power. She just wished she could make
Vareen see that hiring the Nightingale was the only thing she could do to reverse the Crows’
decline. They needed his help to pull off the heist of the century, a heist that would remind the

entire city that they were powerful thieves, not submissive rangers.
As matters stood now, Olivia reflected, the Crows were hardly thieves at all, let alone
powerful and successful ones. Their thieving was limited to picking pockets and quietly
ransacking homes, but they rarely even did that anymore. It seemed that all they did these days
was conduct scouting jobs for the Attaschi Council. The pay from those jobs kept them fed and
armed, and perhaps yielded a little good faith between them and the Council. What the jobs did
not yield, however, were wealth, power, or respect. Olivia sighed quietly. Even though the Crows
were now a brittle shell of the family she once knew, that didn’t stop her from loving Vareen or
Bogush or even Odric, the loose lipped buffoon. She loved them all, and she wanted what was
best for everyone. She needed something to spark a rebirth of the Crows she had joined so
many years ago. That is why she needed to get additional help; that is why she needed the
Nightingale.
If this move were successful, it would cost them quite a bit of coin, but they would
finally re-establish the Crows’ presence in Attaschi and begin making gold again. Maybe someday
they could move out of this tiny room. Maybe her legacy could be moving into the city of
Attaschi itself. Regardless, this would be the move she would be remembered for in the coming
ages, for better or for worse.
Olivia sighed again. “Vareen, we can’t just sit around and wait for a random job to come
to us. We can’t go on like this and still call ourselves thieves. Can’t you see what we have
become? We are patsies, and I don’t like it one bit. The city owns us now. I may never have met
this Nightingale person, but I know what he does. He is a legendary thief in Evera. He doesn’t
even work for contracts. He runs that city. He steals what he wants, when he wants. The guards
can’t stop him, and I was barely even able to find him when I wanted to hire him.”
Her voice softened. “Vareen, I need you to trust me now; I need to cash in on the trust
you all have in me. This is my move to make, and I need you all to support this, or it will not
work.”
Vareen was dumbfounded by the soft plea from their hard leader. He hadn’t seen her

this frail since he had brought her in off the streets all those years ago. He felt responsible for
her failings and her successes, but he hadn’t had to face the former very often. Olivia was a
capable leader, and there was no reason for him to believe she would fail the guild now.
Vareen’s silent pause seemed to last ages as he stared quietly at Olivia. His gaze was soft and
understanding. The tide of battle over her decision to hire the Nightingale was moving in her
favor. Vareen may not have been the only opposition to her plan, but he was the only one with
the gall to call her out on it. With him in her corner, she could do as she pleased.
“Very well, but we will need to keep our eyes on him the entire time,” Vareen relented.
“He is not to be trusted, and will need to do only what we allow. Nightingale may be a strong
ally, but only if he is indeed an ally. You may lead, but I will not allow you to lead us to ruin.”
The silence that followed when he finished speaking was soon interrupted by a warm hug
and a hushed “Thank you.” Olivia would turn things around; she had to.
The days passed slowly as Olivia and her comrades awaited the arrival of the Nightingale.
They had just enough capital in their vault to cover the contract with him, so each of them
picked up extra jobs within the city, and Vareen spent every day in the wilderness scouting for
threats and resources. While everyone else worked to increase revenue, Olivia began to search
Attaschi for valuable targets for their heist. The palace would have been a good place to start,
but she couldn’t get too carried away. After all, these were the people providing work in the
tough times and protection in the good times. The rulers were a tricky bunch, but Olivia had
always admired that about them. She was always the one to negotiate with them, because she
hoped to learn their craft. She dreamed that someday she would hold their seats of power.
Now, however, was not the time to make that dream a reality. The rulers, despite being just as
sleazy as the thieves, did have some form of genuine power, power that could not be evaded by
fleet feet or absorbed by the heaviest armor. Robbing them would only ensure the guild’s
destruction.
Instead, Olivia turned her attention to the mercenaries, named the Golden Bastards,
who were headquartered in the city. Their tower was imposing, and she had heard stories of the
myth-like weapons housed there. Weapons were not of much use to her, but weapons that

famous and powerful would surely fetch a nice price. To leave a lasting mark, she would sell
them back to the mercenaries themselves. It was the most dangerous move the guild could
make; the mercenaries were numerous, armed, and powerful, but if Olivia were successful, the
Crows would be famous once again. Everyone would talk about them, and loose lips and
pockets of coin would soon elevate the guild to its former status. It was settled; they would
raid the Golden Bastards’ rarest and most valuable swords, armor, and jewelry and sell the
pieces back to them at an exceptional price. Now Olivia just needed to meet the Nightingale and
inform him of her plan.

The Crows’ Nest
Rayel peered around the room, unable to believe his eyes. The sights were so foreign, so
strange, that he found himself gawking. Suddenly, he caught the eye of a stranger staring back
at him. He jerked in surprise, lost his balance, and plummeted to the floor. As he lay there,
panting, the world seemed to contract around him with every heavy breath. There was nothing
this world could have for him tomorrow that it had not shocked him with today. As he searched
the dark tavern around him, he found little that was familiar. No one other than brown-haired,
brown-eyed Legionnaires and the occasional blonde bombshell lived in his hometown of Evera.
Now that he was no longer in Evera, he could not fathom how different the rest of the world
was, or, rather, how much difference managed to squeeze itself into this tiny inn outside
Attaschi.
There were brawny men with scales that ran from their legs up across their foreheads.
There was a long, slim woman whose body extended at least a foot above his head. Her ears
had narrow tips, and her eyes were easy to gaze upon. Some of the men were as short as
children, and others were paler than the dead. There were buxom women and blonde
enchantresses. There was even a barmaid who seemed to be a human-sized cat. Her pulsing
veins and bulging arms had him questioning what lay between her legs. There was another
woman who was green. That realization alone baffled him as he slowly gazed around the room,
but it was no more confusing than the giant man, or at least he thought it was a man, who
seemed to have the face of a horse. He was almost disappointed when the horse’s head came
right off. Beneath was a jovial fellow who laughed heartily while he stretched his hand out to
help Rayel. “Whoa there, little man, have too much to drink already? I mean, I’m sure it wouldn’t
take much, but I haven’t even seen you order yet. Come on, get off that floor; I haven’t cleaned
it in ages.”
The man looked friendly enough. He was perhaps the most normal-looking fellow in the
inn. He was the size of a gorilla, but other than that (and the weird horse’s head), he seemed to
be a normal human being. Rayel took the large man’s hand and rose from the floor in one quick

swoop. The large man was even stronger than he had expected.
“Why don’t you come over to the bar while you settle down? They call me Ashmouth on
account of my love for sweet cigars, but my name is Odric, if you don’t find Ashmouth to be
adequate, which I don’t,” Odric said lightly as he worked his way to the other side of the bar.
“So who are ya and what can I get for ya?”
Rayel thought the question was a bit probing, but then again, what good is a barkeep
who never opens his mouth? He did not answer right away as he attempted to focus on Odric.
The patrons of the tavern were just too unique to be ignored. He couldn’t take his eyes off all
the different sorts of people in this room. He took several deep breaths as he forced his eyes
to return to Odric, the one bit of sanity in the inn.
“I would like your darkest ale, you know, something thick and flavorful. Oh, and my name
is Rayel. I’m not from around here, and, well, is it always this...interesting around these parts?”
The barkeep chuckled as he dipped a mug beneath the nearest cask. His laugh bellowed
through the entire room. Rayel would not have been surprised if the whole town could hear
him, but no one flinched or turned. No one cared. Rayel was suddenly able to relax. It was a
beautiful thing. No one cared what he was doing or thinking. This tavern might be the most
obscure place in the whole of the kingdoms, but at least here he could find that little bit of
peace he longed for. The smell of alcohol and stew calmed his nerves. It reminded him of home.
The dim candles were a nice touch, too. A few odd people were far better than hundreds of
people just like himself. His fears slowly drifted away into a quiet wisp of relief as he emptied a
few mugs of ale.
The remainder of the night passed slowly, but it held no fear, so when Rayel’s head hit
the pillow at the inn, rest came easily. He wasn’t worried about the people who had hired him or
whether or not anyone at the inn had figured out who he was. He felt he had done a pretty
good job of being pathetic. His eyes closed, and he dreamt of all the people in this small inn, of
all the kinds of people he had not been aware of just a few hours earlier. His sleep was peaceful
and undisturbed. Unfortunately, no one came to wake him in the morning. By the time he

managed to rouse his head from the pillow, noon had passed, and the tavern was already filling
up. Rayel was a bit angry with himself, but he also couldn’t help but smile at the thought of
another night in his cups. The bar was noisy and crowded, but again, his humble host was more
than grateful for his company.
“So, I’ve been wondering, are all these people from around here?” Rayel asked in a
moment of simple curiosity. “I mean, are their families from Attaschi, or are you just about the
most popular innkeeper this side of the Velvet Sea? I mean, there were really only humans in
Evera.”
Odric chuckled, as he seemed to do every few moments (He was beginning to think
Rayel was constantly inebriated.). “Y’know, boy, I don’t really know. I don’t really have time to
leave all that often. I got Kara doing all the traveling to buy supplies. All I know is that most of
these guys here are pretty regular, but I suppose they could just visit Attaschi pretty frequently.
It is the capital of Glenmara. Lots of important people in that city, and not a one visits this
dump.” Odric poured Rayel another drink and moved on to another customer.
Rayel suddenly felt a palm and three claws rest upon his right shoulder. It startled him,
and he swung around in his seat and up onto his feet. The man in front of him had the skin of a
snake and the sharp eyes to match. He wasn’t particularly tall, but he seemed to be quick. The
lizard man seemed surprised by Rayel’s reaction and held his hands in the air as if surrendering.
“Did I hear that you are from Evera? It’s a funny thing; I have been waiting for a friend of
mine from that particular city. Well, maybe ‘friend’ is too kind of a word. See, we hired a man
from there to work with my guild for awhile. Unfortunately, I don’t know what he looks like; all I
know is that the contract he sent said he would respond to the name ‘Nightingale.’” The voice
dripped with an odd mixture of contempt and guile. Rayel knew this must be Vareen.
“The contract arrived, then,” Rayel responded. “I must admit, I did not expect to meet
you here at the inn, but I suppose that’s my fault. You see, I was just a little tired from my
travels, and I simply could not get out of that lovely bed upstairs.” He gave Vareen a half-cocked
smile. “Would’ve been nice if you had sent up some company, you know, as a courtesy. But,

hey, it’s not like I’m here to save your asses.” He clapped his hands together and smiled. ”Now
that we have met, I suppose it is time for you to introduce me to the rest of your guild. Now,
let’s go.”
“We won’t have to go far,” Vareen responded. “Nightingale, did you wonder, perhaps,
why you were set up in this little inn outside the city? This place, the Captain’s Call, is home to
our merry band of brothers. Come with me to the cellar; it is time to meet the Crows.”
The lizard man guided Rayel down into the cellar. Just as Rayel began to think that it was
not as spacious as a secret hideout should be, the man moved his hand along a massive cask,
and it opened. Through the cask was a stone hallway. The lighting from the few scattered
torches and elegantly housed candles were too dim to tell whether the hallway was manmade
or natural. The two men walked down it for what seemed to Rayel to be a very long time. They
finally reached a series of lit sconces surrounding a door at the end of the hall. Through the door
was a smallish room surprisingly well lit, considering the fact that there was no natural light
seeping in from anywhere.
Through the door, Rayel could see the members of the guild sitting along the walls of
the room. There were three burly men sharpening dirks and daggers in one corner. The was a
stunningly beautiful woman and a much older man exchanging stories in another. The woman
was wearing a foreign outfit that looked like it had a hundred extra pockets. It would be ideal for
looting a house or hall. The older man seemed to be in plain street clothes, his hair draped over
his shoulders. He and Vareen were the only non human people in the room. The old man looked
like a gorilla. He was a beastly fellow. In all, there were ten beds, fifteen locked chests, the
members of the guild, and that one wondrous beauty in the room. As Rayel entered, they all
rose and stared at him. The beauty’s eyes were intoxicating, but the rest of the room seemed
to actually be toxic. Rayel began to sweat. Then he felt those claws on his shoulder again.
“Everyone, meet the Nightingale. He will be assisting us on our missions and living with
us here in the Crows’ Nest. If anyone has objections, well, it’s too late, really, since I already paid
the man.” The group chuckled, as the joke relieved the tension in the room.

Rayel still didn’t know anyone’s names, but with their stares broken, they seemed much
less likely to kill him as he slept.

The Sharpest Beak
“So this is the grand headquarters; it’s a little dank and musty for my taste, but as long
as the gold is good, I suppose I will just have to get over it.” Rayel gave a wry smile. “So, where
is my gold, and what's the job?”
“Your gold is right here,” the beauty replied, pointing to one of the locked chests, “and
we will discuss the job soon enough. First, though, we need to clear some things up. I am Olivia.
I lead the Crows. You work FOR the Crows, so you will follow every damn word that comes from
these lips.” Olivia continued asserting her dominance over her new employee, but he didn’t
seem to notice.
“Olivia. A beautiful name for a beautiful lady.” Rayel stepped forward to shake her hand.
“It is an honor to meet such a...”
“So, now that you’ve met everyone, it is time to get to work,” she interrupted him
brusquely, rebuffing his proffered hand. “I thought about starting you off slow with a few small
jobs, but you’re the Nightingale, and you have all our coin, so tonight we pull the heist we paid
you for. Now, this job will be dangerous, so it will have to be just the two of us.” Her tone
became condescending. “You see, if we bring too many people to do this job…”
Rayel felt a flash of annoyance. “Yeah, I know; too many people means too much
attention. Quiet jobs are the best jobs. I have done this before, you know. Let’s see if I can
guess what else you were going to tell me.” He began ticking off points on his fingers. “Pack
light. Move quietly. Work fast. Fill your pockets. Grab small valuables first.” He stopped and
gazed coolly at Olivia. “You came to me because I know all this already. You can trust me to be
careful and prepared.”
Olivia was infuriated by his insolence. She had thought all that gold coin would have
earned her some respect and loyalty from the famed Nightingale, but instead, he was being a
little shit.
“You may know how to run a heist,” she replied angrily, “but you are still working for me.

You have taken my money, and now your ass is mine. If I tell you to take up a sword, you take
up a sword. If I tell you to kill the guards, you kill the guards. If I tell you to run in circles, you do
it without asking questions. Remember, you work for me, and you will show me respect.”
Olivia’s tirade left her exhausted and Rayel astounded. The silence between them stretched on
and on as they traded furrowed brows and angry glances.
Finally, Rayel spoke through gritted teeth. “So, great and awesome leader, tell me what
your plan is for tonight.”
“We are raiding the tower of the mercenary band headquartered in Attaschi,” Olivia
responded, ignoring Rayel’s angry sarcasm. “There are four entrances. Two are on the ground
level; one is below ground, and a fourth is attached to the castle walls. The one on the walls will
be well guarded. The ground level entrances will have a few guards, but they are only there to
keep the drunks out. They shouldn’t have much in the way of training. We will enter there.”
“What about the underground entrance?” Rayel responded, quick to point out what he
thought was an oversight in Olivia’s planning. “I’m assuming we would have to enter from the
sewers. I doubt they have any of their mercenaries enter from down there, if they even know
the entrance exists. They would never see us coming.”
Olivia watched Nightingale getting excited for the job and once again presuming he knew
more than she did. She didn’t know whether to be excited that he was getting so involved or
angered by his overwhelming condescension.
“The underground entrance is connected to the sewers, but it is also the most heavily
guarded,” she replied slowly, as if she were schooling a green recruit. “So, we will enter right
through the front door. Since there is no real membership policy, we should be able to enter
under the guise of joining their band of bloodthirsty alcoholics...”
“Be that as it may, we still don’t want to be noticed as we enter,” Rayel said, cutting
Olivia off again. “If someone sees us enter but not leave, they may become suspicious. The
fewer people who see us the better. So, we’ll still enter through the front door, but first we will
employ a distraction. I am sure there is some drunk in Attaschi who will gladly faint or brawl in

front of the entrance for a few crowns. Don’t worry,” he couldn’t help adding, “I will loan you
the capital for the job.”
The smug grin never left his face. Olivia would have punched him if he weren’t so
incredibly clever. His plan would work perfectly, and the fact that he was a well-built stranger
would make their story plausible once they got in the door. Things would come together nicely
tonight.
“Oh,” she stammered, trying to hide her reluctant admiration. “Well, you had better earn
all that coin we gave you. I spent a week arguing with Vareen to get him to agree with the plan.
It’s not just our asses if you fail; it’s your ass, too. We will let you rot in any manner of dungeon
if you fail us on this first job. Now get ready. We move into the city in an hour. We’ll spend a
few hours in the tavern, so no one will see us entering the city tonight.”
Olivia was proud of her plan, and immediately headed towards her trunk to get her
equipment; Rayel began to rummage around in his sack as well, though his bag didn’t seem
large enough to hold much of anything. It was possible that he worked in his regular clothes,
Olivia mused. It would make him inconspicuous.
She turned away from him and began to strip down to her undergarments. She slid her
feet into fine navy leggings. They were thin, light, and perhaps most importantly, flexible. She
pulled them up around her hips. They hugged against her waist and ass in a way that perfected
her form. It was a nice perk of the outfit. She slid a similar shirt over her breasts and pulled it
down until it met the leggings. The shirt was a little longer than it needed to be, but that was
just because the armor would pull at it quite a bit. There were a number of narrow slits along
the side to help hold the armor close to her body. She placed an odd piece of leather over her
left shoulder. She brought the straps from the base around under the other arm. One strap
wove neatly through the slit in her shirt. She pulled hard so the armor was as tight as possible
when she finally buckled it. This one piece ran from shoulder to hip. She began to place piece
after piece of leather armor around her body, until most of her was covered. It must have
weighed a full stone, but she had become accustomed to the firm and constant embrace of the

cold leather. She almost enjoyed the feeling of it shifting back and forth across her body.
She was surprised to find Rayel sitting on the other side of the room with a smirk on his
face as she turned back to him. “Very nice, Livi, but don’t you think people might notice all the
extra armor, especially on a body as fine as yours? I mean, I will never forget that heart shape as
you bent over to put on those boots.”
Olivia smiled flirtatiously before crossing the room, pulling a small dagger from her cuffs,
and sliding it slowly across his throat. The blood might be a bit much, but the wound should help
him blend in once they were inside the mercenaries’ tower.
“Say another word about my wonderful ass, and this dagger dances with your little prick.
Understood? You work for me and will respect me, remember? Now, that little scratch might
be enough for you to get into the building unquestioned. So let’s go…idiot.”
Olivia smiled as she walked away, ignoring his growled “cunt” as she turned. She was
finally in control of the situation, and it felt fantastic. She pulled a light fleeced cloak around her
body and led Rayel out of the cellar. She led him out the door, up the road, and to the gates of
the great city, Attaschi. She wondered if he was as full of wonder as she had been when she had
first seen the golden beasts engraved on the doors, but she didn’t want to give him some false
sense of kinship. Strength would be her only weapon in the year to come, and she would wield
it mercilessly.

Feces and Gold
The gates looked like they were made of gold, but they were probably only gold plated,
Rayel mused to himself as they approached Attaschi. There was no way a city with physical
doors at the entrance arch would be all that profitable. Any city worth ransacking had one or
more picket gates made of steel or wood they could drop in case of a murder or theft. Two
doors were easily opened from the inside, though they were much better at keeping the wrong
people out. The designs were intricate, the lions fierce, the dragons fiercer. Rayel couldn’t help
but have some respect for whoever had managed to sculpt the base of this false beauty. It was
made of either iron or steel, both hard metals that would have been extremely difficult to work
with. Someone who had that much mastery of their craft deserved admiration.
As he and Olivia entered the city, no one gave them a second glance, but Rayel stared at
everyone around him. The city was bustling with the same sorts of people he had seen at the
inn, and he was still struggling to wrap his mind around the diversity. He was so absorbed in
watching the crowd that he failed to pay attention to Olivia until she suddenly herded him into
the tavern. Rayel didn’t even have time to catch the name outside the building before he was
falling into his chair. The lighting was much brighter than at the Captain’s Call, but it was also
much earlier in the day. The time passed slowly as they waited for the sun to set. It took an
hour of gentle coaxing to get Olivia to allow him a single mug of ale, but it was well worth it. His
thirst began to return by dusk, but by then they were on their way across the city to the Golden
Bastard headquarters.
It was a plain place; you wouldn’t know by the exterior that it housed legendary weapons
and gold greater than most men’s imaginings. Rayel wasn’t most men, but he was sure the gold
would be more than adequate. Olivia scouted the perimeter while Rayel found some hapless
drunks to create a diversion. It cost a bit more coin than he had hoped, but it would be well
worth the investment, if they didn’t get caught. The drunks started circling the building
searching for Olivia; Rayel had told them she was the angry one with big tits. That description
wouldn’t please Olivia, but she wouldn’t know. The drunks found her soon enough and then, at
her direction, positioned themselves not ten feet from the double doors of the main entrance

and began to slap each other. It got intense quickly; even Rayel began to believe that at least
one of them didn’t know this fight was staged.
As the fight continued, and the guards at the door ran over to separate the drunks,
Rayel moved to Olivia and began to push her towards the door. She did not like that, and he
received knuckles to nuts for his effort. He was surprised by how well he managed to maintain
his composure as he hurried through the entrance.
He and Olivia found themselves in a main room that was well lit and quite populated.
There were noblemen in fine embroidered doublets and ladies in gaudy, poofy dresses. Rayel
hadn't seen so many people like himself since he had arrived. It was weird not to see the cat
people or snake people who had surrounded him the past few days. It seemed like the people in
this room were holding some sort of grand gala. A crimson sign hung from the ceiling,
embroidered with golden letters declaring, “Welcome, Prince James.” Rayel felt a flash of
concern. It would be more difficult to rob the place if there was extra security and an honored
guest. However, his greed quickly overcame all of his worries. The security might be greater than
anticipated, he reasoned with himself, but they had still managed to slip through the front door
unnoticed. Plus, with the presence of Prince James and his wealthy supporters, there would
surely be plenty of gold to go around. It wouldn’t take long to steal a fortune in gold and
valuables.
Rayel brought Olivia to the middle of the floor and began to step around the room with
her hip and hand in tow. “I am going to distract these people down here,” he whispered in her
ear. “I need you to get upstairs and grab the valuables. The sewers are our best chance for
escape, so head there when you are done.” Olivia didn’t like taking orders from anyone, but his
plan seemed well formed, so she just nodded.
“Okay, then.” Rayel brought her close, kissed her cheek, and freed her from the dance.
Rayel began moving through the room like an up and coming socialite while Olivia went
upstairs to case the place. The people were surprisingly nice to someone they had never met
before. They were pretty good about giving out drinks, too. Rayel drank a few glasses of a

golden wine and mingled with every lonely woman in the room. He spun and danced about in
tight embraces. Every woman wanted to be the next to feel his bulging arms against them, and
every man was ready to choke him. He had to admit, this was new to him, but distracting
people was a gift, he supposed. Unfortunately, by the sixth or seventh woman, he stumbled
into the princess. She was quickest to jump into his arms. She must have had more drinks than
anyone else in the room. The prince did not seem impressed.
The princess pushed against him as they danced; he could feel her body against every
inch of his. She began to slowly nuzzle his neck. He began to push back against her. The princess
enjoyed every moment, but, inevitably, the song eventually ended. They were slow to separate.
They took several steps back and simply gazed upon each other. She was beautiful, but Rayel
wouldn’t break character as a common socialite trying to enjoy his time at this lovely gala. He
stood expressionless before her, and walked out of the room with what cool he had left. He
retreated to the kitchen, where all the servers seemed to be tending to the guests. He quickly
shifted the gems and necklaces from his mouth and wrists to pockets that were easier to
access. Just as he finished, he heard what sounded like someone coming, a lot of somebodies,
in fact. “Shit,” he thought to himself. “Either pissing off all the men in the room wasn’t the best
course of action, or the women have discovered their missing jewelry.”
He slipped down the stairs in the back of the kitchen. The stairs were caked in grime. He
could feel his feet stick with every step. He descended staircase after staircase until he reached
the entrance by the sewers. It was less guarded than Olivia had suggested. The only person
standing outside the door was…Olivia? He was surprised to see her down here so soon; he
hadn’t even planned to be down here yet. She seemed to have a few good pieces with her, but
nothing outstanding.
Rayel looked at her quizzically and then back at the quickly approaching figures. He
pushed her into the sewage drain, and they rode the dirty water and excrement toward the
outside. Olivia grasped for his clothes while trying to keep herself from drowning, nearly
drowning the both of them in the process.
“It’s okay; the outlet is only a little further,” he eventually heard her mutter to herself. It

was good to know they were almost out. Finally, Rayel could see the moonlight shining upon
the outlet. They flew from the drain into the vast lake beside the tower. There was a bit of a
thud when they landed. The hard feeling beneath his ass caught Rayel off guard. He scrambled to
his feet and kicked into the water to see what was there. His foot began to throb in pain as he
connected with something metallic, heavy, and unyielding. He reached into the water to see
what had nearly broken his foot. He picked up something heavy; it was an entire steel shield
with fine engravings all over the plate. Olivia had evidently managed to throw everything she had
stolen through the drain before they had needed to escape themselves. As Rayel continued to
study the shield, he realized that its engravings looked oddly familiar. Olivia spoke to him softly,
“You remember those beasts, don’t you? I think the gates are beautiful, too. It was surprising
to see such intricate carvings of animals on a piece of metal that was used to absorb blows.
Surely the crafter realized the carvings wouldn’t match the gates after the first round of
combat. Now, come on; we have a lot more to dig out of the water.”

Nightingales and Ravens
It had been a week since the heist, and it appeared that Olivia had misjudged her political
clout. The Council wouldn’t see her, and the guards were eager to arrest her. It became more
and more apparent that the Golden Bastards had struck a deal with the Council. Maybe the
Crows shouldn’t have stolen from the prince. Now, she and Rayel were stuck in this tiny room
all the time, and even though Vareen and the rest came and went constantly, they could no
longer do the ranger jobs. More importantly, Olivia mused grimly, the lack of political support
made their meeting with the Golden Bastards that night even more dangerous than she had
initially imagined it would be. Getting all the jeweled weapons and golden necklaces had been
the easy part, despite the sewer trip and Rayel hurting his back because the stubborn fool had
insisted on hauling the loot back himself.
A brief smile crossed Olivia’s otherwise solemn face. The room might have been stuffy,
but it held fantastic memories of her friends and comrades. To her surprise, she realized that
Rayel was one of those people. Olivia had been stuck alone with him fairly often of late. It could
be awkward sometimes, but against all her better taste he was growing on her. It was nothing
romantic; he was more of a brother than anything, but she already trusted him as a friend. Such
strong feelings after such a short time was strange, but Olivia had spent more than a year
tracking his exploits and locations. She had felt like she knew him before he even entered her
realm. She did have to assert herself to assure obedience, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an
idol of sorts. Every thief in the world knew his name, and they all either praised him or cursed
him. It felt good to know she would have such a skilled partner as she readied herself for the
standoff.
Olivia knew that by the end of the night she would either be dead or richer than she had
ever hoped. The scouts in the city had confirmed that the Golden Bastards were gathering
massive quantities of gold. Olivia would bring her band of merry thieves and about a dozen
beggars and hired hands to help carry the gold and to provide support in case the mercenaries
tried to double cross her. Perhaps there was an easier way, but a face to face trade was the only

way for her to regain recognition as a power in the city.
The sun set at the usual time, but there was nothing familiar about this sky. The world
felt distant. The entire night would be defined by whether or not she could pull this off. No one
would remember if the dragon was in clear sight or if the North Star shone through the clouds.
None of that really mattered. All eyes were on her. Nothing could comfort her unsettled mind.
Her nerves were at a fever pitch, and it took great effort to keep herself steady. Vareen seemed
to notice, but he was not such a fool as to bring the situation to light. Weakness in this
moment, perceived by either side, would be detrimental to the cause.
The Golden Bastards seemed to have arrived at the stated meeting place early. There
must have been at least twenty of them, probably more, guarding the outside of the tower.
With their apparent clout, Olivia had thought they would have had the entire city guard in tow;
instead they had only ten guardsmen. It was a curious development, to say the least, but Olivia
did not have the time to fixate on the details. She needed to get in and out as quickly as
possible. As she climbed the stairs of the tower with her disheveled band of thieves following,
she was at long last a leader to them all. They listened to her words and followed her
commands, and in the end, that was all she could ask. Her stomach lurched as she strode up
step after step. The door before her at the top of the stairs would change everything. Whatever
happened next, it would happen on the other side of that door. She could not bring herself to
open it. Everyone was relying on her, and it was too much to bear. She could feel their eyes
pierce her body as she leaned back against the wooden door. It was damaged. She could feel
splinters poke her back and the broken column scratch against her. It didn’t hurt, but provided
just enough discomfort to let her know she was still alive. “Ready?” she murmured to them all
before driving her back into that fractured door.
The gleaming moonlight welcomed them on the other side. There stood the Guard
Commander and several mercenaries. This moment that seemed so much greater than her
began to shrink. Olivia strode across the roof and up to her marks. They were surprised to see a
woman, no doubt, but that was no excuse for that stupid look on their faces. Their faces quickly
turned to half cocked smirks as the Nightingale strode across the roof behind her. It was almost

as though they were expecting him, or maybe they assumed he was the actual leader. Women
weren’t held in very high regard in these parts.
“It’ll be okay, Livi; don't you worry,” Nightingale whispered as he neared the Bastards. It
was then that she realized there were no sacks of gold, only twenty armed men. They were
armed to the teeth, and some were already raising crossbows. As she turned to shout, she
found time slowing. It was as if all she could do was watch this butchering. The sharpened dirks
did no good, and the sacks remained empty. Her Crows were the first to die, and then the
beggars were shot down.
She turned back to check on Nightingale. In that moment, she felt an excruciating pain in
her collarbone. The arrow was tagged with a simple purple feather. The world spun around her;
the dragon was the only constellation she could make out, but it seemed to be everywhere. The
moonlight gave way to a frightening darkness, an all-consuming darkness. She felt death’s cold
grip as life slipped from her body. In that moment, she realized that the priests and shouters
were all liars; death was the only one she would meet. Before she could embrace the spiteful
cunt, his grasp was loosed, and she felt herself fall. She fell and fell through a darkness the likes
of which she had never known.
After what felt like hours, she felt a harsh thud. She shot up from the ground. Her
breaths were heavy, and the pain excruciating. She sat there, trying to regain her composure.
She finally rose, clenching the arrow that had pierced her. She wasn't strong enough to pull it
out. As she wandered around the tower, she came across Vareen lying still on the ground. She
knelt down beside him.
“I told you we couldn’t trust Nightingale.” With those final words, Vareen’s head fell to
the side, and that old heart stopped beating. Olivia held his head in her lap as the night passed
silently away.

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