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Chapter 1: It was Just a Pencil

Through the doors of the grand courtroom of Keesh, an outside observermight believe nothing was happening. They couldn’t be more wrong. 

“YOU BREAK INTO THE RICHEST WOMAN IN THE CITY’S HOUSE, AND STEAL A PENCIL?” 

Screeched the judge at the thief, sitting chained to a chair and tied to twoguardsmen standing on either side. It’s a good thing they only found out aboutthe pencil.

“A HOUSE WHICH HAD BEEN BROKEN INTO NOT TEN MINUTESBEFORE?” 

The thief sat, with his mind racing. In his ten years of thieving, he had

never been caught. That was for amateurs, cutthroats, bandits, pickpockets andthe like, not a professional thief like him. He was being too cocky. It was hismantra to be careful. To never be cocky. That was an amateur mistake andworthy of his tongue being cut off in the Thieves Guild. It was still a bonus theydidn’t realize that he was the one that had broken out ten minutes before.  

“YOU WILL BE SENTENCED TO DEATH!” 

It was a good thing he was freelance. Anyone not in the Guild and as goodas him could break out of any jail west of the Circle Sea before the day long waitfor the noose.

“Wait, your honor!” 

What? No one knew who he was, no one knew he was a thief; no oneeven knew he existed. The ship captains whose ships he took passage soonforgot of his existence, and his old fences were paid so well they never told theirinformation.

“I have information on who this man really is!” 

The thief looked up. His piercing gray eyes settled on the man standing inthe witness booth. He never forgot a voice, and he never forgot a face. And herecognized both of them. It was his fence, the one he had back in Khal-Modeen,the one that he had paid the most kirr. He was the only fence he trusted enoughto reveal he was the thief that had bounties of millions and millions of dollars,enough to get more than if you won the Keeshian lottery on a day when theGrand Dragon Prince was feeling charitable. He was the one he thought wouldnever betray him. He was the one he must have been wrong about.

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“This man is not who he seems! He is the thief that no one has evercaught! He has a bounty of more money than the treasury of most smallcountries!” 

“HOW DARE YOU! I PAID YOU MORE MONEY THAN MY BOUNTY AT

THE TIME FOR YOU TO KEEP QUIET! I PAID YOU ENOUGH FOR YOU ANDYOUR ENTIRE FAMILY TO LIVE LIKE KINGS!” 

As the thief, so angry he was close to foaming at the mouth, screamedthese words, he realized something. His fence had been pointing at the guardnext to him. His blind rage had doomed him to life in prison, if he was a normalman. But his skills had perfected his speed lock picking, and while the wholecourtroom turned into a melee, it seemed to him as if time had slowed down forthe sole purpose of him escaping. He escaped from the handcuffs with the easethat can only be gained through years of practice, taking him less than a fewseconds within his slowed down perception of time.

And a true thief never goes anywhere without his kit. So in the time it tookhim to escape from his handcuffs, he already had mentally selected the perfectitem to escape from the rope binding him to the chair. One quick jerk with astiletto broke the rope, and gave him a perfect weapon. A springboard leap onthe chair landed him within feet of the door, but by this point his slowed downperception had ended, and he was on his own for the escape.

One stab took down the guard standing at the door, killing him with nopain, and not enough time to make a sound. But lasted just enough time to alertthe others. Reverting into speed mode, he threw the stiletto behind him, hitting aguard in the leg and leaving only two left. Running to the door he quickly lifted thebar and threw behind him, hitting the downed guardsman’s chest and trying toopen the door, he realized that this was a Klatchian doorlock. It would beimpossible to pick it without at least a few minutes of complete concentration,and it was Khal-Modeenian iron-wood, so it would take a small army with a fewbattering rams a year to break it open. As he was considering this, the back doorof the courtroom burst open, and it filled with reinforcements. The thief was shotwith a blunt arrow in the chest, hard enough to bruise, but not to injure. The thieffell on his knees, and felt a sword on his throat.

As he fell, one thought flew threw his mind, making the second it took toreach the floor seem like an eternity.

Revenge.

Chapter 2: Any Jail West of the Circle Sea

As the thief came too, he started to involuntarily shiver. He never dreamedof being back in a place like this, almost identical to the prison cell he started histraining in, with his old master, teaching him everything he could in a 5 square

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meter jail cell. Right up until how to escape. He often wondered what hadhappened to the old man, probably died in the cell, but, who knows? Any goodthief always has a few tricks up his sleeve, and the man who trained him certainlywas a good thief, if an old one. The thief started laughing at the folly of those whohad thrown him into this prison, this little underground shack, for anything that

has a door or a window can be escaped from; no matter how much time it wouldtake. So the thief started pacing, trying to piece together an escape route, oranything really. So the thief inspected the window, made from Klatchian steel,nigh impossible to break, and heard the sound of the sea from the window, thecrashing of waves, baying of gulls, and a few cursing fishermen, of course. Thisclued him to that he was either on the Circle Sea, the Tiben River, or the Acken.He silently hoped he was on the Acken River and not the Tiben or the Circle Sea,because the Acken bordered Klatch and he could make a much better profit inKlatch than in Kanu. Then he heard something he had hoped never to hear again.The screech of a Kurak-Ha.

“RUN FOR COVER! THEY’LL DESTROY US ALL!” 

“WHAT IS THAT THING?” 

“SAVE ME! I’M BURNING!” 

It all happened at once. The Kurak-Ha burned the town to the grown,razing everything. The thief saw it happen from his window. The green-scaledcreature flew through the sky, burning everything in its path with terrible fire,almost white-hot from the already hot sea air. It looked vaguely like a dragon ofthe old legends, but it was so terrifyingly real. With the threat of a Kurak-Ha in hismind, he worked overtime to escape from the cell, rallied by the cries of terrified,confused, enraged, hungry, and filthy prisoners baying for blood and crying forfear. He picked up an old nail and attempted to pick the lock, but he couldn’t.

 Any jail west of the Circle Sea.He wasn’t west of the circle of the circle sea anymore. He was in Keesh.

Keeshians spared no expense in the search for luxury and security, and hadfound a quite little niche in the perfect combination of the two and held on fordear life. He reached for his kit, and realized that he wasn’t wearing hiscustomized thieving clothes anymore, with dark patterns to hide in the shadows,padded boots to silence the steps, and pockets for all he had and could find. Hewas wearing a tattered sackcloth outfit that they had thrown him in when they puthim in jail and confiscated his kit. Maybe with his kit and his outfit he couldescape and make it across the ocean, but there wasn’t a chance in hell of himescaping the conventional way in a Keeshian prison. But maybe he could escapeunconventionally. With the threat of the Kurak-Ha driving him and everyonearound him, he might be able to get out using nothing but skill and a little bit ofluck. But knowing him, he might be able to substitute luck for some skill. Hestarted banging the door to attract the guards, until he looked down and noticedsome food. He threw the water at the other prisoner, as with the bread. Reaching

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down to get the cheese, he felt something hard and metallic, a key! He quicklyslotted it in and slipped out of the cell taking of the sackcloth shirt and the oldsandals they had slipped on him, and slid into the darkened hallway of the prison,while the confused prisoner he had been throwing his food at gobbled it downand tried to lick the water of the cell bars. A guard came down the corridor to yell

at him for eating more than his daily ration, but the thief snuck up behind and puthis left hand over the guard’s mouth and his right arm in a chokehold of his neck.Quickly throwing on the guard’s uniform and putting his weapons in his belt, hedragged the guard into his cell, slammed the door, and locked it. As he walkedthrough the prison, all he could hear were the muffled screams of the villagersbeing slowly slaughtered by the Kurak-Ha.

Chapter 3: I Don’t Think We’re in Keesh Anymore 

As the thief strode out of the prison, he noticed something. There were trees

everywhere, so many trees the eye could barely count them. Large trees, smalltrees, brown trees, white trees, leafy trees, leafless trees, trees as far as the eyecould see. But there weren’t any coastal forests in Keesh… The only majorforested area was… Khal-Modeen. The only Kurak-Ha breeding place was inKhal-Modeen… He wasn’t in Keesh anymore… He was in Khal-Modeen, he wasin his home, and he was in Khal-Modeenian territory again without any of his kit.For any normal man, this would mean death. But he was not a normal man.Scrambling up the side of a small ironwood building he started dancing andscreaming. The Kurak-Ha turned, it’s attention drawn by the thief and startedshooting towards him in the air, its small brain thinking of one thought. Kill. As theKurak-Ha shot through the air, the thief prepared himself to jump. One splitsecond before the Kurak-Ha hit the thief, he jumped and landed exactly on theneck of the Kurak.

I hope I remember the lesso-

“SCREEEEEEEE!” 

As the wild Kurak-Ha screeched and thrashed, the thief reverted into simplemuscle memory and reached to his waist to grab one of his extendable poles.

“Shi-“ 

“SCREEEEEEE!” 

No equipment… this might make things difficult… the thief silently thought as hishand grabbed the air that would’ve been his belt. He wrapped his arms aroundthe creature’s neck and started to choke as hard as he could, while screamingKhal-Modeenian phrases that the Kurak might have heard or been trained withbefore. As the thief pulled with all his might, the dragon suddenly went very calm

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and slowly lowered itself to the ground, waiting for the thief to hit it like a normalKhal-Modeenian warrior. But the thief just yelled, and forced the Kurak back intothe sky