It was a cold, winter’s night, yet Royce sat perched upon the rooftop of what once was the Medford house. Sitting in his tattered black cloak with his glowing dagger at his side, Royce waited. He remained motionless well into the night, the only disturbance coming from the rats scurrying across the muddy street of the Lower Quarter, the poorest subsection of the kingdom of Melengar.
After a long while of waiting, Royce finally heard something. At first it was faint, so faint that it seemed only he could hear it. The noise got louder with every passing minute. They’re coming, Royce thought.
Even though they weren’t visible, Royce knew who they were. He always knows. As the noise got ever louder, it became clear that the makers of the noise were running. Suddenly, three figures appeared on the road—Royce’s road.
For the first time in hours, Royce moved. Making no noise, he dropped from his vantage point onto a balcony just below. The noise got louder. They’re getting closer. Royce looked towards the noise, and it became clear that three men were running down the way.
“Hurry, before we’re too late,” said one.
“We don’t even know what we’re running to,” grunted another.
“Quiet! If you want a full pouch of gold tenents tonight, you’ll do as you’re told,” said the last, who was clearly the leader of the three.
The men kept running, and Royce kept watching. As the group quickly approached the house Royce kept watch from, the leader exclaimed, “Stop!” Like well trained dogs obeying their master, the two men came to a halt.
“You better have a damn good reason for stopping us Albert!” said one of the two. The captain, who we now know as Albert, responded with a simple hand gesture. Royce smirked from the balcony as the three men stealthily headed to the run down building across the way.
    The three men approached the building, but only Albert went inside. As if perfectly planned, Royce jumped down from the balcony and creeped up behind the two men who were standing in the wake of Albert. Unlike most rogues of his day, Royce was a romantic. He enjoyed toying with people in the position of the two men before him. Following suit, Royce tossed a rock, he had picked from the ground, into the run down building.
“What was that?” asked one of the two men outside.
    Before they could react further, Royce popped in behind them and whispered, “me.” Simultaneously, he unsheathed his dagger and with a twirling motion, slit the throats of both men. The two bodies hit the floor with a thump. This never gets old.
    Royce searched the bodies of the two men, who are now easily identified as two thieves from the Crimson Hand, the notorious thieves guild of Melengar, for a key. To his relief, he found it dangling around one of their necks.
    “You can come out now Winslow,” Royce said as he stood up, snatching the key.
    Albert slowly came out from the building saying, “That was eerily graceful, like always.”
    “Did you expect otherwise?”
    “Well, um, no. I simply felt compelled to reiterate how intriguing you are.”
    “In that case, your compliment is most welcome.”
    “Now what?”
    “Let’s go find Hadrian and Gwen. We need to act fast.”

***

    “What do you say? A barrel of rum for 3 silver tenents? ” Royce and Albert heard a sailor ask as they entered the Fairman’s Pub, seated just across from the docks of the Lower Quarter.
“What do you two want?”, barked the barhand, who had just seen the pair enter.
“Nothing from you,” replied Royce, flipping a silver tenent to the man. I hate questions.
“Where are they?” asked Albert.
“Stop talking and follow me.”
Royce continued walking through the pub, until he reached a set of stairs at the back corner of the building. Gracefully walking up, he entered a hallway, illuminated by a single flickering lamp. There were six doors in the hall. Royce eyed each door carefully looking for some sort of sign. Seeing none, he walked down, until a loud squeak was heard.
“What was that?!” Albert asked as he took a step back.
“You,” Royce replied with the faintest chuckle.
“But...how?”
Paying no attention to Albert, Royce pushed the door in front of the ornately robed man and walked in.
“Took you long enough,” said Hadrian as he saw the door open.
“It would have helped if you told me which room was yours before we left,” replied Royce.
“Shut up you two!” protested Gwen as she gave Royce a kiss on the cheek.
“Hadrian, how exactly did you get the floorboard to squeak for me and not Royce?” Albert asked puzzled.
“I didn’t.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“You must’ve put on some pounds while we were away” Hadrian replied with a hearty laugh.
“Enough,” said Royce. “We need to act fast.”
“I’ll take it you found what you were looking for then,” said Hadrian.
“Of course I did.”
Gwen threw her pack over her shoulder, “Let’s go.”

***

    The graveyard was a sore sight on a night such as this. The moon shined overhead, silhouetting the tombstones in an ominous glow.
    “Do you see anyone Royce?” whispered Hadrian.
    “There are two watchmen just over the hill, guarding the front of the main entrance with two more roaming along the sides.”
    “What exactly is the entrance?” asked Albert.
    “It’s the mausoleum with a fist on the roof,” whispered Hadrian.
    “Hadrian take Winslow and handle the right side, I’ll take Gwen and go left. Try to be quiet for once,” ordered Royce.

***

    Hadrian and Albert, moved quickly over the hill until the guards came into sight. They continued quietly until they were positioned by a tree near the guard patrolling the right side.
    “Let’s move right behind that mausoleum over there. When the guard walks by we’ll, you know...” Hadrian whispered as a he made a slitting motion across his own neck.
    For the first time, the two were able to move as quietly as Royce. They got in position behind the mausoleum and waited. They stood for just over five minutes before Albert grew restless and turned to Hadrian with a shrug. Hadrian gave him a look and Albert, who was now slightly fed up, returned to waiting motionlessly, but in the very instant Albert turned back, a button popped off of his out of character dress shirt. As the button hit the cold earth, Albert let out a not so faint, “Oh my!”

***

    Soon after departing the other two, Royce and Gwen were stationed alongside the patrolling guard on the left. Without saying a word, Royce stepped behind the guard and unsheathed his dagger. Finally—
—Royce caught the guard’s falling body, setting him on the ground without making a sound.
    “Isn’t it funny how a woman like me is in love with a man like you?” Gwen whispered as she stepped forward.
    Royce eyed Gwen, smiled, and then continued onward. First it was just Hadrian, now it’s a whole brigade. How the times have changed. Royce was surprised to see the two guards in front, still unaware of Hadrian and Winslow. I’m impressed. Unfortunately for Royce, disappointment was soon to follow, as he heard the words “Oh my” come from the voice of the one and only Albert Winslow.

***

    “Who’s over there!” shouted the guard on patrol.
    “Good job Albert,” Hadrian sighed as he stepped out from his cover.
    “Now who do you think you are? Walking into my cemetery with what, three swords? Ha! ”
    “I’m a simple mourner of course,” Hadrian said as he pulled his two swords from his side.
    “Oh, so you need two swords to fight me? I’m flattered,”
    “You shouldn’t of said that,” Hadrian said as he sheathed his two smaller swords and grabbed the two-handed spadone from his back.
    “Going for size now are we?”
    Hadrian took a step forward, putting an end to the guard’s chatter. The guard reciprocated and took a jab at Hadrian. Hadrian parried with ease, throwing the sword from the guard’s hand. Hadrian lifted his spadone overhead, shifting his weight forward, and swung at the guard, splitting him into two. Before the halves could hit the ground, Albert said, “um, Hadrian...”, motioning to the two guards now running towards them. Hadrian stepped forward, ready to greet the two, when he saw a shimmer behind them. Almost instantly, the two bodies fell, and the quarrel was over.
    “Winslow, this is the last time we take you anywhere,” Royce said as he stepped forward.
“I second that,” agreed Hadrian.
“Considering all the guards are taken care of, I’d say it’s a job well done,” rebuttled Albert who stood proudly.
“Let’s get what we came here for and get out,” grunted Gwen, who was obviously annoyed.
The arguing stopped, and the four of them walked to the entrance of the main mausoleum. Royce pulled the key from his pocket and stepped to the door.
“Why couldn’t we have just taken the key off of one these thieves? Surely, one of them must have one somewhere,” started Albert.
“Do you think we would have gone through all that trouble if there were keys hanging from every thief's neck?” retorted Royce, who at the same time inserted the key into the door of the building. With a twist and a tug, the door was open, and the group walked inside. Looking around, it became apparent that this wasn’t an ordinary mausoleum; the entire room was bare, except for a small vase in the center. Royce stepped forward, and looked inside the vase. He signaled to Gwen, who at once took off her pouch, grabbed a small sack from inside, and handed it to Royce. Royce opened it and revealed a large silver sphere, with a hole going through the middle.
“Now, where’d you get that?” questioned Albert.
Ignoring him, Royce dropped the sphere into the vase. A series of clanging followed. For a moment, nothing happened.
“Now what?” asked Hadrian.
    Before anyone could respond, a slit creaked opened from the ceiling, letting a single beam of moonlight shine through into the dark room. The group remained silent, and Royce stepped forward, following the beam until he reached the wall. With the slightest amount of hope, Royce pushed the small pocket of light, and to his and the rest of the group’s amazement, a crypt rose to their right.
    “Dwarves never get old,” said Royce.
Hadrian walked over to the crypt and lifted the lid. Peering inside, he saw what was left of the Hatter, the founder of the Crimson Hand. Royce, who had walked up beside Hadrian, stuck his hand inside and took the crimson top hat from what was left of the Hatter’s skull.
    “I got you something old friend,” said Royce as he handed the hat to Winslow.
    “We got what we came for, now can we get out of here before the sun rises?” asked Hadrian.
    “Let’s go, we need to finish this once and for all” replied Royce.

***

Gwen, Albert, Hadrian, and Royce all sat on the porch of a public house that lay directly across from the main square of the Lower Quarter. In the center was a large statue of Maribor, the God of all humans. As the sun started to rise, the four of them could see shadows emerging from the alley ways. Breaking form, the shadows stepped into the main square, looking at the statue in awe. Many gasps followed, as the people, who are now recognizable as members of the Crimson Hand, looked up at the statue, seeing the crimson hat of their founder on Maribor’s head. As soon as they realized what exactly this meant, they quickly retreated, but not back into the shadows, for they knew they were no longer a place safe enough to hide. Instead, they ran up and all the way out of Melengar. After the last of them was out of sight, the group laughed for a long while, until Gwen said, “I never thought the day would come, but we can finally begin to rebuild from the ashes.”
Acknowledging what Gwen said, Albert continued, “And good riddance to  you lousy, no good, classless thieves! ”

The End.