“Why is a child of your age trying to rob someone at dagger point?” Nimby asks with a sudden edge to his voice.
“It’s the final test for entering the guild as an apprentice thief,” the boy explains through his whimpering. “Either you steal the money or kill the target. This test determines if you’re going to be trained in the art of thievery or the art of assassination. The guildmaster feels that the younger the apprentice, the more skilled they will become when they get older. He believes that a child can learn faster than an adult whose mind is already cluttered. This is the philosophy that the guild has upheld for the past three years.”
“You know a lot about this for a child,” Nimby mentions.
“I was raised by a guild member and trained in their ways,” the boy claims. “All I need to do is pass this test and I will be an official member.”
“What if you were to fail this test?” Nimby asks, easing the dagger away from the boy’s throat.
The boy wipes the remaining tears out of his eyes and takes a cautious step away from the halfling. “They only take in orphans or children who are sold to the guild by their parents. Those who fail the final test are made to drink a memory-erasing potion. The guildmaster rebuilds their memories before they are put into a guild-run orphanage. This is how the guild watches the failures and makes sure that the potion never wears off. Some children get adopted and are still watched while they are with their new families. Those that remain in the orphanage until the age of fifteen are dealt with depending on their gender. Boys are sent to be sailors for Cerascent pirates that work with the Rodillen guild. Girls are sent to various brothels in exchange for money.”
“Here, kid,” Nimby whispers. Walking past the boy, he slips four gold coins into the kid’s hidden pocket. “You stole four gold coins off of me. This should get you in and keep you out of that mess.”
“Yes, sir,” the kid whimpers.
“A little advice. Get out of the guild and out of Rodillen. Use the guild for whatever skills you can learn and then disappear when you’re old enough to survive on your own. The guild never goes after runaways that make it beyond the north woods. Believe me or not, but you will live longer,” Nimby says. He sheaths his dagger and starts to walk back to the busier streets. He turns back to see if the kid is still there while the stray cat leaps onto the halfling’s injured shoulder. The child is gone and the abandoned dagger is the only sign that he was ever there.
“This day has really sucked. I was nearly decapitated by a saw blade. I’ve fallen down marble stairs. I was almost swindled by a gnomish vendor. A stray dog bit my shoulder. Some junior thief tried to rob me in an alley. I come out of all this with less money than when I woke up this morning,” Nimby mutters, patting an empty pocket in case he is being watched. The cat nuzzles his chin in exchange for a scratch behind the ears. “At least, I found a new friend. I think I’m going to name you Nightshade since you’re dark blue. Anyway, I can only think of one thing that could make this day worse. So, it’s going to happen any second now. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
“The guildmaster would like to talk with you, Nimby. Follow us,” demands a cloaked man, who seems to appear out of thin air. Four more cloaked figures join the man and silently move until they have Nimby surrounded.
“Thank you, Gabriel. I was wondering what was keeping you from getting to this,” Nimby says as he looks up at the sky. He shakes his head in mild amusement, as he is lead, at dagger-point, into another alley. “Honestly, I expected you guys an hour ago.”
One of the cloaked figures is about to say something when Nimby takes the lead. The halfling never breaks his pace as he goes through the illusionary wall. All of the thieves look at each other with worry before they follow their prisoner. The only sign that Nimby has gone into the alley is a mewing cat sitting across from the empty wall.
*****
The guild’s lair has been a well kept secret of Rodillen since the thieves came to power. It is rumored that its entrance is changed every month and the old entrances are booby trapped and sealed. Whatever the case, every thief in Rodillen knows where to go when called.
Far beneath the merchants and tourists, the guild lair houses the true rulers of the city. Massive columns of ancient stone support the ceiling of this vast subterranean room. It is a very warm and dry room with three fireplaces roaring along the back wall. There is no smoke or ash residue on the ceiling or walls because the smoke from these fires escapes through natural vents leading to the surface. Scattered around the room are small hills of treasure that have been collected over the years. These piles of gold and gems reflect so much of the light from the fires that torches are unnecessary. A wide variety of stolen tables and chairs placed about the room while the thieves mingle and toast to the continued success of the guild. Women with very little clothing dance and steal amid the rowdy guild members who drunkenly enjoy Rodil darts and card games. In the center of it all is the golden throne of the guildmaster.
“I must say that I’m surprised,” the blonde-haired man admits from atop the throne. He is slender and toned with an obvious love of black clothing. A thin and neatly kept mustache twitches on his face as he wiggles his mole-like nose.
“I’m surprised too, Devorius. I would have bet money on you being arrested and killed by now,” Nimby says from his isolated, wooden chair. An untouched mug of ale is at the halfling’s feet alongside a plate of food that he has kicked over. “Instead, I find you in charge of the guild. Guess this explains the recruitment of children and the decline of stealth. Did you personally train all the thieves that have been watching me from the shadows? Because I’ve been noticing them ever since my boat docked this morning.”
“First, you refuse my hospitality by ruining the meal that I have offered,” the blonde man growls. “Now, you insult me. I’m the guildmaster now and you shall refer to me as such.”
“Very well, guildmaster. Thank you for the poisoned food,” Nimby says with a calm expression of boredom. “I believe I smell a great helping of gravel asp venom. May I suggest flitter scorpion or ogre spider next time? You don’t need to use as much and the smell is not as easily detectable. Then again, you really don’t need an entire bottle of gravel asp venom to poison someone. Your predecessor must be crying in his grave if you’re the best that the guild has.”
“The great mask of Nimby. Nothing rattles your cage or causes you to back down from a challenge. You’re almost a legend in this city,” the guildmaster scoffs. He hurls a dagger that thuds into the chair next to Nimby’s head. “I’m sick of the tales surrounding the mysterious halfling thief of Rodillen. You’re nothing more than a coward and a worm.”
Nimby looks from the dagger to the guildmaster and yawns. “I could have caught that dagger.”
“You’re a fool, Nimby. My predecessor was right to exile you. Guild rules are too refined for a rogue like you,” the guildmaster declares with a pompous smile. “Yet, here I find you in my city even with the promise of execution above your head.”
Nimby pulls the dagger out of the chair and starts juggling it. He leans back and scans the atmosphere of the room. The carefree eyes of Nimby the carpenter have been replaced by a predatory stare that causes some of the younger thieves to slip away. A flick of his wrist sends the dagger soaring toward the guildmaster who attempts to catch it in his hand. The dagger stops an inch from his face, but everyone can see the blood trickling down his palm. He ignores the murmuring and muffled laughter of his fellow thieves.
“Not a clean catch,” Nimby states, amused by the reaction of the thieves. “How did you get to be guildmaster? Before I left, Rodillen had standards.”
“Such things are not the concern of a dead man,” the guildmaster snaps.
“Humor me, Devorius,” Nimby says, leaning back in the chair.
The guildmaster grins proudly before clearing his throat. “Very well, halfling. I gained this honor by the grace of my predecessor. When our leader perished during the night, we found t
hat he had written my name in the guild book as the next guildmaster. It is by his last will that I sit on the throne of Rodillen and increase our fortunes and influence.”
“How did he die?” the halfling asks, sounding as if he already knows the answer.
“Abruptly in his sleep.”
“Probably the night he wrote your name down.”
“I would not know.”
Nimby laughs to his heart’s content, a few of the surrounding thieves joining in until the guildmaster glares at them. When he calms down, Nimby happily announces, “I know thieves like you. You poisoned him with the same slop you tried to use on me today. Your predecessor was a poison master, so the smell of venom was always on him. At his age, he wouldn’t have noticed an extra scent in the air. All you would have had to do is make sure he didn’t have the antidote on hand or had built up immunity for the poison that you wanted to use. I would have given him small doses over time to make it look like he was ill, but you were never a patient man. You probably gave him a full dose and promised the antidote in exchange for the writing of your name in the guild book. You lied, of course.”
“You’re making false accusations,” the guildmaster warns him. “Remember that I will have you executed, exile?”
Nimby smiles broadly. “I’m not an exile.”
“Liar. My predecessor had told all of us of your treachery and punishment,” the guildmaster claims, nervously running a hand through his blonde hair. “You killed your own guild brothers because they did their job in a way that you disapproved of. It was decreed on that day that you would remain an exile and be killed in front of the throne if you ever returned.”
“I’m sorry the gods saw fit to make you so stupid,” Nimby says, crossing his arms and looking to the ceiling. “The rules of the Rodillen guild state that all decrees of exile made by a guildmaster are voided upon his or her death. My exile was made under the rule of your predecessor, which means that his death grants me the right to enter Rodillen without punishment. It’s one of the founding laws of the guild, which can only be amended by one who is descended from the original guildmaster.” Nimby pauses and gives the guildmaster a cunning grin. “I believe you are descended from a rug weaver of Bor’daruk. Before you try to make the decree of exile again, I should warn you that any attempt to reinstate a voided exile without a recent cause will result in your removal from the guild. A thief that holds a grudge is seen as a liability.”
“Enough! Tell me why you’re in Rodillen!” the guildmaster screams, his face redder than the fires behind him.
Nimby sighs before shifting in his chair, eventually leaning forward. “I have nothing to hide. I’m here because the ship I was on needed supplies. We were told to stay off the ship until the morning. I will be out of your territory before you steal your lunch. My business is simply that of passing through and none of my actions would have affected the guild if you had simply left me alone.”
“Ah-ha! You said that your actions would not affect the guild if we left you alone. That means you are planning an act of retaliation for your detainment. You’re going to interfere with our plan, right?” the guildmaster asks before he realizes that he’s said too much.
“Your plan? I think I just found something interesting,” Nimby says with a charming, playful smile. “I’m in the middle of the guild lair with no escape. You might as well tell me since I’m sure you plan on killing me just on principal. Maybe even use me as a scapegoat for a crime that you committed recently. Either way, a lone halfling does not stand a chance against the entire guild of Rodillen.”
“Sadly, I hate you and do not want to waste my time any longer,” the guildmaster says. He sits up straight and looks around at the gathered thieves. “Throw him into the fireplace and watch him burn. Please feel free to take bets on how long he will scream. Get him!”
Three stocky thieves stop their card game to grab Nimby. He doesn’t bother to fight them as they carry him toward the roaring fireplaces. The guildmaster is about to yell something else when Nimby quickly slips out of his shirt and hits two of his captives in the legs with long needles that were hidden in his belt. Both of them fall on their face and scramble to remove the painful weapons. The halfling snatches his shirt back from the third thief before the man can figure out why his friends have collapsed. Nimby sidesteps the man’s pathetic tackle and hops onto the lip of the fireplace.
“It really has been nice seeing you again, Devorius,” Nimby announces with a dramatic bow. “Sadly, I have to go and take care of some errands before it gets too dark. Have fun with these toys.” He pulls out the fireworks as the guildmaster leaps from his throne and makes a psychotic sprint towards the halfling.
“I’ll kill you!” the man shrieks, getting within a few feet of Nimby. The fireworks drop into the fireplace as Nimby leaps into the air. He lands on the head of the guildmaster and launches himself behind a stack of barrels. The force of his jump sends the man’s face slamming into the stone lip of the fireplace. The guildmaster is starting to get up when the fireworks explode out of the fire that is only a few inches from his face. Ale-soaked tables ignite as the guild members run for cover. The entire hideout has erupted in chaos that easily covers the escape of their captive. Nimby is already at the lair’s exit when he hears a painful scream from the fireplace.
“I know I shouldn’t look, but I have to,” the halfling mutters.
He turns to see the guildmaster with his head covered in colorful flames. The man blindly gropes around him until he is bumped by another thief and falls into the fireplace. Those around him move quickly to pull him out, but the guildmaster is severely burned and barely able to speak through his charred lips. By the time the thieves have finished patting out the fire on their leader’s body; Nimby is long gone with a handful of gold coins.
The chaos has ended by the time a new figure materializes within the shadows of the ceiling. She hangs there like a bat and tries to force the look of entertained glee from her face. Trinity sighs as her astral shadow vanishes and her mind returns to her body, which is meditating in a tree outside of town. Her joints creak as she stretches along the sturdy tree branch. It is the perfect hiding place with enough thick leaves to conceal her from casual sight, but not enough to block her view of the nearby town.
“I was told that they were the best and that they were perfect for my first trap. Then, that halfling turned them into fools and gave them something more important to worry about. Their damaged leader will take precedence over all current jobs since that is the way of the guild. So, all that money and planning has gone to waste,” Trinity whispers to herself as she continues to stretch like a cat. “Still, Nimby is an interesting curiosity. He reminds me of someone, but I can’t put my finger on it. Oh well. This failure was unforeseen, but not tragic. I believe it’s time for introductions.”
7
“You are far too reckless,” Aedyn states while stretching his fingers. He scans the calm tavern with a slow, lazy gaze. A deep breath allows the priest to take in the smell of fresh stew while he focuses on a bard’s soft flute song.
“What’s your point?” Luke asks.
“You have fallen for every trap,” the priest claims, turning back to Luke. “All of your actions have been predictable and forced by your opponent. You only have one course of action left.”
“I won’t give up,” Luke snaps. A smiling, blonde barmaid puts two mugs of frothy ale at the table. She is about to say something to Luke when Aedyn politely motions for her to be quiet. The pretty girl feels a little dejected until she looks down at the table.
“Did you ever learn the rules of chess?” Aedyn asks.
“I know it has rules. I got it! I move here,” Luke announces. He moves his king a space forward and grins at Aedyn. The barmaid tries hard not to laugh at the fact that the king is Luke’s only remaining piece and Aedyn has only lost three pawns.
“I win and you pay the young lady,” Aedyn declares. He takes a sip of his ale while Luke eyes him su
spiciously.
Luke scans the board and looks up at Aedyn with confusion in his emerald eyes. “How do you win if you don’t move?”
“Look at the entire board, Luke,” Aedyn suggests, hanging his head in frustration. “I can take you with either of my knights, a rook, the queen, a pawn, and a bishop. As per our arrangement, the loser pays for food and drink. Please, pay the young lady.”
“Be proud that you defeated a man who didn’t know the rules,” Luke says, handing some gold coins to the girl. She blushes and looks like she is about to say something before scampering off to take an order.
“I asked if you wanted to play another game,” Aedyn reminds him.
“I thought chess was like checkers.”
“Where would you get a foolish idea like that?”
“You didn’t say it wasn’t.”
“I did not say it was.”
“Then, I guess we know whose fault it is.”
Aedyn flashes Luke a victorious smile. “Yes, it is your fault for not asking me if it was like checkers.”
“That is it, priest.”
Both of the half-elves jump to their feet, glaring at each other across the table. The bartender and barmaids pay them little attention as they continue to try to stare each other down. A few patrons who have recently arrived look over at the possible fight and prepare to run out of the building. Minutes pass with neither of the young men speaking or moving.
“We need a new game,” Aedyn announces.
“Drinking contest,” Luke suggests with a grin. “First one to drop out of his seat has to pay for breakfast. Do we have a bet?”
Aedyn is about to agree when he realizes a problem. “I have already had four. How many have you had?”
“Three. Guess we have to make it even before we start,” Luke says. He picks up his fresh drink and slurps it down. The forest tracker wobbles on his feet for a second before steadying himself.
“Barkeep! Keep bringing drinks until one of us is on the floor,” Aedyn requests with a smile of approval.
Legends of Windemere: 02 - Prodigy of Rainbow Tower Page 14
